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diff --git a/30687-h/30687-h.htm b/30687-h/30687-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f2117f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/30687-h/30687-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4647 @@ +<!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 The Lord of Misrule, by Alfred Noyes</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + body { margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%; text-align: justify; } + p { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-indent: 1em; } + p.noind { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-indent: 0; } + + h1,h2,h3,h5,h6, .center { text-align: center; } + hr { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 70%; + height: 1px; background-color: #dcdcdc; border: none;} + hr.full {width: 100%; height: 5px;} + hr.art { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 40%; height: 5px; background-color: #708090; + margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em } + + table.nobctr { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; } + table.reg { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both; } + table p { margin-left: 1.5em; text-indent: -1.5em; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; } + + td.tc2 { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0; text-align: left; } + td.tc3 { padding-right: 0; padding-left: 0; text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + + a:link, a:visited, link {text-decoration: none} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal; } + .f80 {font-size: 80%;} + .dropcap:first-letter { float: left; margin-right: 35px; line-height: 70%; font-size: 3em; width:auto;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 5%; text-align: right; font-size: 10pt; + background-color: #f5f5f5; color: #778899; text-indent: 0; + padding-left: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; font-style: normal; } + + .figcenter {text-align: center; padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em;} + + div.poemr {margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + div.poemr p {margin-left: 0; padding-left: 4em; text-indent: -2em; margin-top: 0.2em; margin-bottom: 0em; } + div.poemr p.s { margin-top: 1.5em; } + div.poemr p.i1 { margin-left: 1em; } + div.poemr p.i2 { margin-left: 2em; } + div.poemr p.i3 { margin-left: 3em; } + div.poemr p.i4 { margin-left: 4em; } + div.poemr p.i5 { margin-left: 5em; } + div.poemr p.i10 { margin-left: 10em; } + div.poemr p.i12 { margin-left: 12em; } + + div.quote { margin-left: 2em; font-size: 90%; line-height: 1.2em; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em; } + div.quote p { margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em; } + + .pd05 {padding-top: 0.5em;} + .pd2 {padding-top: 2em;} + .pd3 {padding-top: 3em;} + .pd5 {padding-top: 5em;} + + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lord of Misrule, by Alfred Noyes, +Illustrated by Spencer Baird Nichols</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Lord of Misrule</p> +<p> And Other Poems</p> +<p>Author: Alfred Noyes</p> +<p>Release Date: December 16, 2009 [eBook #30687]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LORD OF MISRULE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Marius Masi, Juliet Sutherland,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img style="border:0; width:454px; height:700px" + src="images/img4.jpg" + alt="Cover." /> +</div> + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<hr class="full" /> +<h3>THE LORD OF MISRULE</h3> + +<h5>AND OTHER POEMS</h5> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<table class="reg" style="border: 1px solid black;" cellspacing="10" summary="data"><tr><td> + +<div class="f80"> +<p class="center">BY THE SAME AUTHOR</p> +<hr style="width: 20%;" /> +<p class="sc">Drake: An English Epic</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">The Enchanted Island and Other Poems</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">Sherwood</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">Tales of the Mermaid Tavern</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">The Wine-Press</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">Collected Poems. 2 Vols.</p> + +<p class="sc pd05">A Belgian Christmas Eve (Rada)</p> +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img style="border:0; width:461px; height:700px" + src="images/img1.jpg" + alt="Front page." /> +<p>Come up, come in with streamers!<br /> +Come in with boughs of May!</p> +<p style="padding-left: 12em;"><i>Page 1.</i></p> +</div> + + + +<div class="pd3"> </div> +<h2>THE LORD OF<br /> +MISRULE</h2> + +<h5>AND OTHER POEMS</h5> + +<h6>BY</h6> +<h3>ALFRED NOYES</h3> + +<h6><i>WITH FRONTISPIECE IN COLOURS BY<br /> +SPENCER BAIRD NICHOLS</i></h6> + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<div class="figcenter"> +<img style="border:0; width:120px; height:153px" + src="images/img2.jpg" + alt="logo" /> +</div> +<div class="pd2"> </div> + +<h6>NEW YORK</h6> +<h5>FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY</h5> +<h6>PUBLISHERS</h6> + + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<div class="center f80"> +<p><i>Copyright, 1915, by</i><br /> +<span class="sc">Frederick A. Stokes Company</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 20%;" /> +<p><i>All rights reserved, including that of translation<br /> +into foreign languages</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="pd3"> </div> + +<div style="float: left; width: auto; clear: both;"> +<img style="border:0; width:150px; height:42px" + src="images/img3.jpg" + alt="logo" /> +</div> + +<div class="pd5"> </div> +<hr class="art" /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<table class="nobctr" width="70%" summary="Contents"> + +<tr style="font-size: 70%; "> <td> </td> + <td class="tc3 sc">PAGE</td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Lord of Misrule</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page1">1</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Repeal</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page7">7</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Search-lights</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page9">9</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Forward</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page11">11</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Spell</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page13">13</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Crimson Sails</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page18">18</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Blind Moone of London</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page22">22</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Old Grey Squirrel</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page28">28</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Great North Road</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page31">31</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The River of Stars</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page34">34</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Knight of Old Japan</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page43">43</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Beyond Death</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page44">44</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Strange Guest</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page46">46</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Ghosts</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page49">49</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Day of Remembrance</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page51">51</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">On the Embankment</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page53">53</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Iron Crown</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page58">58</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Old Debate</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page59">59</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Song of Hope</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page60">60</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Hedge-rose Opens</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page62">62</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The May-tree</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page63">63</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Old Letters</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page64">64</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Lamps</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page66">66</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">At Eden Gates</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page68">68</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Psyche of Our Day</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page70">70</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Paraclete</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page73">73</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">After Rain</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page75">75</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Death of a Great Man</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page76">76</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Roman Way</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page78">78</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Inner Passion</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page80">80</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Country Lane in Heaven</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page82">82</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">To the Destroyers</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page84">84</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Trumpet-call</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page85">85</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Heart of Canada</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page89">89</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Return of the Home-born</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page91">91</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Salute from the Fleet</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page93">93</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">In Memory of a British Aviator</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page103">103</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Waggon</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page105">105</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Sacred Oak</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page107">107</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The World’s Wedding</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page120">120</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">In Memoriam: Samuel Coleridge-Taylor</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page123">123</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Inscription</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page126">126</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Values</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page127">127</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Heroic Dead</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page128">128</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Cry in the Night</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page130">130</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Astrid</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page133">133</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Inimitable Lovers</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page136">136</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Crags</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page143">143</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Ghost of Shakespeare, 1914</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page147">147</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The White Cliffs</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page152">152</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">On the South Coast</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page154">154</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Older than the Hills</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page156">156</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Torch</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page158">158</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Outlaw</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page161">161</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Young Friar</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page163">163</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">A Forest Song</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page167">167</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Trumpet of the Law</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">Thrice-armed</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page180">180</a></td> </tr> + +<tr> <td class="tc2 sc">The Song-tree</td> + <td class="tc3"><a href="#page182">182</a></td> </tr> +</table> + +<hr class="art" /> +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page1"></a>1</span></p> +<h3>THE LORD OF MISRULE</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p >“On May days the wild heads of the parish would choose a +Lord of Misrule, whom they would follow even into the church, +though the minister were at prayer or preaching, dancing and +swinging their may-boughs about like devils incarnate.”—<i>Old +Puritan Writer.</i></p> +</div> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">A LL on a fresh May morning, I took my love to church,</p> +<p>To see if Parson Primrose were safely on his perch.</p> +<p>He scarce had got to <i>Thirdly</i>, or squire begun to snore,</p> + <p class="i2">When, like a sun-lit sea-wave,</p> + <p class="i3">A green and crimson sea-wave,</p> +<p>A frolic of madcap May-folk came whooping through the door:—</p> + + <p class="i2 s">Come up, come in with streamers!</p> + <p class="i3">Come in, with boughs of may!</p> + <p class="i2">Come up and thump the sexton,</p> + <p class="i3">And carry the clerk away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page2"></a>2</span></p> + <p class="i2 s">Now skip like rams, ye mountains,</p> + <p class="i3">Ye little hills, like sheep!</p> + <p class="i2">Come up and wake the people</p> + <p class="i3">That parson puts to sleep.</p> + +<p class="s">They tickled their nut-brown tabors. Their garlands flew in showers,</p> +<p>And lasses and lads came after them, with feet like dancing flowers.</p> +<p>Their queen had torn her green gown, and bared a shoulder as white,</p> + <p class="i2">O, white as the may that crowned her,</p> + <p class="i3">While all the minstrels round her</p> +<p>Tilted back their crimson hats and sang for sheer delight:</p> + + <p class="i2 s">Come up, come in with streamers!</p> + <p class="i3">Come in, with boughs of may!</p> + <p class="i2">Now by the gold upon your toe</p> + <p class="i3">You walked the primrose way.</p> + <p class="i2">Come up, with white and crimson!</p> + <p class="i3">O, shake your bells and sing;</p> + <p class="i2">Let the porch bend, the pillars bow,</p> + <p class="i3">Before our Lord, the Spring!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page3"></a>3</span></p> +<p class="s">The dusty velvet hassocks were dabbled with fragrant dew.</p> +<p>The font grew white with hawthorn. It frothed in every pew.</p> +<p>Three petals clung to the sexton’s beard as he mopped and mowed at the clerk,</p> + <p class="i2">And “Take that sexton away,” they cried;</p> + <p class="i3">“Did Nebuchadnezzar eat may?” they cried.</p> +<p>“Nay, that was a prize from Betty,” they cried, “for kissing her in the dark.”</p> + + <p class="i2 s">Come up, come in with streamers!</p> + <p class="i3">Come in, with boughs of may!</p> + <p class="i2">Who knows but old Methuselah</p> + <p class="i3">May hobble the green-wood way?</p> + <p class="i2">If Betty could kiss the sexton,</p> + <p class="i3">If Kitty could kiss the clerk,</p> + <p class="i2">Who knows how Parson Primrose</p> + <p class="i3">Might blossom in the dark?</p> + +<p class="s">The congregation spluttered. The squire grew purple and all,</p> +<p>And every little chorister bestrode his carven stall.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page4"></a>4</span></p> +<p>The parson flapped like a magpie, but none could hear his prayers;</p> + <p class="i2">For Tom Fool flourished his tabor,</p> + <p class="i3">Flourished his nut-brown tabor,</p> +<p>Bashed the head of the sexton, and stormed the pulpit stairs.</p> + + <p class="i3 s">High in the old oak pulpit</p> + <p class="i4">This Lord of all misrule—</p> + <p class="i3">I think it was Will Summers</p> + <p class="i4">That once was Shakespeare’s fool—</p> + <p class="i3">Held up his hand for silence,</p> + <p class="i4">And all the church grew still:</p> + <p class="i3">“And are you snoring yet,” he said,</p> + <p class="i4">“Or have you slept your fill?</p> + +<p class="s">“Your God still walks in Eden, between the ancient trees,</p> +<p>Where Youth and Love go wading through pools of primroses.</p> +<p>And this is the sign we bring you, before the darkness fall,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page5"></a>5</span></p> + <p class="i2">That Spring is risen, is risen again,</p> + <p class="i3">That Life is risen, is risen again,</p> +<p>That Love is risen, is risen again, and Love is Lord of all.</p> + + <p class="i3 s">“At Paske began our morrice</p> + <p class="i4">And, ere Pentecost, our May;</p> + <p class="i3">Because, albeit your words be true,</p> + <p class="i4">You know not what you say.</p> + <p class="i3">You chatter in church like jackdaws,</p> + <p class="i4">Words that would wake the dead,</p> + <p class="i3">Were there one breath of life in you,</p> + <p class="i4">One drop of blood,” he said.</p> + +<p class="s">“<i>He died and He went down to hell!</i> You know not what you mean.</p> +<p>Our rafters were of green fir. Also our beds were green.</p> +<p>But out of the mouth of a fool, a fool, before the darkness fall,</p> + <p class="i2">We tell you He is risen again,</p> + <p class="i3">The Lord of Life is risen again,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page6"></a>6</span></p> +<p>The boughs put forth their tender buds, and Love is Lord of all!”</p> + + <p class="i3 s">He bowed his head. He stood so still,</p> + <p class="i4">They bowed their heads as well.</p> + <p class="i3">And softly from the organ-loft</p> + <p class="i4">The song began to swell.</p> + <p class="i3"><i>Come up with blood-red streamers</i>,</p> + <p class="i4">The reeds began the strain.</p> + <p class="i3">The <i>vox humana</i> pealed on high,</p> + <p class="i4"><i>The Spring is risen again!</i></p> + +<p class="s">The <i>vox angelica</i> replied—<i>The shadows flee away!</i></p> +<p><i>Our house-beams were of cedar. Come in, with boughs of may!</i></p> +<p>The <i>diapason</i> deepened it—<i>Before the darkness fall</i>,</p> + <p class="i3"><i>We tell you He is risen again!</i></p> + <p class="i4"><i>Our God hath burst His prison again!</i></p> +<p><i>Christ is risen, is risen again; and Love is Lord of all.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page7"></a>7</span></p> +<h3>THE REPEAL</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">I DREAMED the Eternal had repealed</p> + <p class="i1">His cosmic code of law last night.</p> +<p>Our prayers had made the Unchanging yield.</p> + <p class="i1">Caprice was king from depth to height.</p> + +<p class="s">On Beachy Head a shouting throng</p> + <p class="i1">Had fired a beacon to proclaim</p> +<p>Their licence. With unmeasured song</p> + <p class="i1">They proved it, dancing in the flame.</p> + +<p class="s">They quarrelled. One desired the sun,</p> + <p class="i1">And one desired the stars to shine.</p> +<p>They closed and wrestled and burned as one,</p> + <p class="i1">And the white chalk grew red as wine.</p> + +<p class="s">The furnace licked and purred and rolled,</p> + <p class="i1">A laughing child held up its hands</p> +<p>Like dreadful torches, dropping gold;</p> + <p class="i1">For pain was dead at their commands.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page8"></a>8</span></p> +<p class="s">Painless and wild as clouds they burned,</p> + <p class="i1">Till the restricted Rose of Day</p> +<p>With all its glorious laws returned,</p> + <p class="i1">And the wind blew their ashes away.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page9"></a>9</span></p> +<h3>THE SEARCH-LIGHTS</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>“Political morality differs from individual morality because +there is no power above the state.”</p> +</div> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">SHADOW by shadow, stripped for fight,</p> + <p class="i1">The lean black cruisers search the sea.</p> +<p>Night-long their level shafts of light</p> + <p class="i1">Revolve, and find no enemy.</p> +<p>Only they know each leaping wave</p> +<p>May hide the lightning, and their grave.</p> + +<p class="s">And in the land they guard so well</p> + <p class="i1">Is there no silent watch to keep?</p> +<p>An age is dying, and the bell</p> + <p class="i1">Rings midnight on a vaster deep.</p> +<p>But over all its waves, once more,</p> +<p>The search-lights move, from shore to shore.</p> + +<p class="s">And captains that we thought were dead,</p> + <p class="i1">And dreamers that we thought were dumb,</p> +<p>And voices that we thought were fled,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page10"></a>10</span></p> + <p class="i1">Arise, and call us, and we come;</p> +<p>And “search in thine own soul,” they cry;</p> +<p>“For there, too, lurks thine enemy.”</p> + +<p class="s">Search for the foe in thine own soul,</p> + <p class="i1">The sloth, the intellectual pride;</p> +<p>The trivial jest that veils the goal</p> + <p class="i1">For which our fathers lived and died;</p> +<p>The lawless dreams, the cynic Art,</p> +<p>That rend thy nobler self apart.</p> + +<p class="s">Not far, not far into the night,</p> + <p class="i1">These level swords of light can pierce;</p> +<p>Yet for her faith does England fight,</p> + <p class="i1">Her faith in this our universe;</p> +<p>Believing Truth and Justice draw</p> +<p>From founts of everlasting law;</p> + +<p class="s">Therefore a Power above the State,</p> + <p class="i1">The unconquerable Power returns.</p> +<p>The fire, the fire that made her great</p> + <p class="i1">Once more upon her altar burns.</p> +<p>Once more, redeemed and healed and whole,</p> +<p>She moves to the Eternal Goal.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page11"></a>11</span></p> +<h3>FORWARD</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">A <i>THOUSAND creeds and battle-cries,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>A thousand warring social schemes,</i></p> +<p><i>A thousand new moralities,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>And twenty thousand thousand dreams!</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>Each on his own anarchic way,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>From the old order breaking free,—</i></p> +<p><i>Our ruined world desires</i>, you say,</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Licence, once more, not Liberty.</i></p> + +<p class="s">But ah, beneath the struggling foam,</p> + <p class="i1">When storm and change are on the deep,</p> +<p>How quietly the tides come home,</p> + <p class="i1">And how the depths of sea-shine sleep;</p> + +<p class="s">And we who march towards a goal,</p> + <p class="i1">Destroying only to fulfil</p> +<p>The law, the law of that great soul</p> + <p class="i1">Which moves beneath your alien will;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page12"></a>12</span></p> +<p class="s">We, that like foemen meet the past</p> + <p class="i1">Because we bring the future, know</p> +<p>We only fight to achieve at last</p> + <p class="i1">A great re-union with our foe;</p> + +<p class="s">Re-union in the truths that stand</p> + <p class="i1">When all our wars are rolled away;</p> +<p>Re-union of the heart and hand</p> + <p class="i1">And of the prayers wherewith we pray;</p> + +<p class="s">Re-union in the common needs,</p> + <p class="i1">The common strivings of mankind;</p> +<p>Re-union of our warring creeds</p> + <p class="i1">In the one God that dwells behind.</p> + +<p class="s">Then—in that day—we shall not meet</p> + <p class="i1">Wrong with new wrong, but right with right;</p> +<p>Our faith shall make your faith complete</p> + <p class="i1">When our battalions re-unite.</p> + +<p class="s">Forward!—what use in idle words?—</p> + <p class="i1">Forward, O warriors of the soul!</p> +<p>There will be breaking up of swords</p> + <p class="i1">When that new morning makes us whole.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page13"></a>13</span></p> +<h3>A SPELL</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>An Excellent Way to get a Fairy</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">GATHER, first, in your left hand</p> + <p class="i1">(This must be at fall of day)</p> +<p>Forty grains of wild sea-sand</p> + <p class="i1">Where you think a mermaid lay.</p> +<p>I have heard that it is best</p> + <p class="i1">If you gather it, warm and sweet,</p> +<p>Out of the dint of her left breast</p> + <p class="i1">Where you see her heart has beat.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Out of the dint in that sweet sand</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Gather forty grains, I say;</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Yet—if it fail you—understand,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>There remains a better way.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Out of this you melt your glass</p> + <p class="i1">While the veils of night are drawn,</p> +<p>Whispering, till the shadows pass,</p> + <p class="i1">“<i>Nixie—pixie—leprechaun!</i>”</p> +<p>Then you blow your magic vial,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page14"></a>14</span></p> + <p class="i1">Shape it like a crescent moon,</p> +<p>Set it up and make your trial,</p> + <p class="i1">Singing, “<i>Elaby, ah, come soon!</i>”</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Round the cloudy crescent go,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>On the hill-top, in the dawn,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Singing softly, on tip-toe,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>“Elaby Gathon! Elaby Gathon!</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Nixie—pixie—leprechaun!”</i></p> + +<p class="s">Bring the blood of a white hen</p> + <p class="i1">Slaughtered at the break of day,</p> +<p>While the cock, in the fairy glen,</p> + <p class="i1">Thrusts his gold neck every way,</p> +<p>Over the brambles, peering, calling,</p> + <p class="i1">Under the ferns, with a sudden fear,</p> +<p>Far and wide—as the dews are falling—</p> + <p class="i1">Clamouring, calling, everywhere.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Round the crimson vial go,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>On the hill-top, in the dawn,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Singing softly, on tip-toe,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>“Nixie—pixie—leprechaun!”</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>If this fail, at break of day,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>I can show you a better way.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page15"></a>15</span></p> +<p class="s">Bring the buds of the hazel-copse,</p> + <p class="i1">Where two lovers kissed at noon;</p> +<p>Bring the crushed red wild-thyme tops</p> + <p class="i1">Where they murmured under the moon.</p> +<p>Bring the four-leaved clover also,</p> + <p class="i1">One of the white, and one of the red,</p> +<p>Bring the flakes of the may that fall so</p> + <p class="i1">Lightly over their bridal bed.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Drop them into the vial—so—</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>On the hill-top, in the dawn,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Singing softly, on tip-toe,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>“Nixie—pixie—leprechaun!”</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>And, if once will not suffice,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Do it thrice!</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>If this fail, at break of day,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>There remains a better way.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Bring an old and crippled child</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Ah, tread softly, on tip-toe!</i>—</p> +<p>Tattered, tearless, wonder-wild,</p> + <p class="i1">From that under-world below,</p> +<p>Bring a wizened child of seven</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page16"></a>16</span></p> + <p class="i1">Reeking from the City slime,</p> +<p>Out of hell into your heaven,</p> + <p class="i1">Set her knee-deep in the thyme.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Feed her—clothe her—even so!</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Set her on a fairy-throne.</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>When her eyes begin to glow</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Leave her for an hour—alone.</i></p> + +<p class="s">You shall need no spells or charms,</p> + <p class="i1">On that hill-top, in that dawn.</p> +<p>When she lifts her wasted arms,</p> + <p class="i1">You shall see a veil withdrawn.</p> +<p>There shall be no veil between them,</p> + <p class="i1">Though her head be old and wise!</p> +<p>You shall know that she has seen them</p> + <p class="i1">By the glory in her eyes.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>Round her irons on that hill</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Earth has tossed a fairy fire:</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Watch, and listen, and be still,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Lest you baulk your own desire.</i></p> + +<p class="s">When she sees four azure wings</p> + <p class="i1">Light upon her claw-like hand;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page17"></a>17</span></p> +<p>When she lifts her head and sings,</p> + <p class="i1">You shall hear and understand:</p> +<p>You shall hear a bugle calling</p> + <p class="i1">Wildly over the dew-dashed down;</p> +<p>And a sound as of the falling</p> + <p class="i1">Ramparts of a conquered town.</p> + + <p class="i2 s"><i>You shall hear a sound like thunder;</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>And a veil shall be withdrawn,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>When her eyes grow wide with wonder</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>On that hill-top, in that dawn.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page18"></a>18</span></p> +<h3>CRIMSON SAILS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">W<i>HEN Salomon sailed from Ophir</i> ...</p> + <p class="i1">The clouds of Sussex thyme</p> +<p>That crown the cliffs in mid-July</p> +<p>Were all we needed—you and I—</p> +<p><i>But Salomon sailed from Ophir</i>,</p> + <p class="i1">And broken bits of rhyme</p> +<p>Blew to us on the white chalk coast</p> + <p class="i1">From O, what elfin clime?</p> + +<p class="s">A peacock butterfly flaunted</p> + <p class="i1">Its four great crimson wings,</p> +<p>As over the edge of the chalk it flew</p> +<p>Black as a ship on the Channel blue ...</p> +<p><i>When Salomon sailed from Ophir</i>,—</p> + <p class="i1">He brought, as the high sun brings,</p> +<p>Honey and spice to the Queen of the South,</p> +<p>Sussex or Saba, a song for her mouth,</p> +<p>Sweet as the dawn-wind over the downs</p> +<p>And the tall white cliffs that the wild thyme crowns</p> + <p class="i1">A song that the whole sky sings:—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page19"></a>19</span></p> +<p class="s">When Salomon sailed from Ophir,</p> + <p class="i1">With Olliphants and gold,</p> +<p>The kings went up, the kings went down,</p> +<p>Trying to match King Salomon’s crown,</p> +<p>But Salomon sacked the sunset,</p> + <p class="i1">Wherever his black ships rolled.</p> +<p>He rolled it up like a crimson cloth,</p> + <p class="i1">And crammed it into his hold.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Chorus</i>: Salomon sacked the sunset!</p> + <p class="i4">Salomon sacked the sunset!</p> + <p class="i3">He rolled it up like a crimson cloth,</p> + <p class="i4">And crammed it into his hold.</p> + +<p class="s">His masts were Lebanon cedars,</p> + <p class="i1">His sheets were singing blue,</p> +<p>But that was never the reason why</p> +<p>He stuffed his hold with the sunset sky!</p> +<p>The kings could cut their cedars,</p> + <p class="i1">And sail from Ophir, too;</p> +<p>But Salomon packed his heart with dreams</p> + <p class="i1">And all the dreams were true.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Chorus</i>: The kings could cut their cedars,</p> + <p class="i4">Cut their Lebanon cedars;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page20"></a>20</span></p> + <p class="i3">But Salomon packed his heart with dreams,</p> + <p class="i4">And all the dreams were true.</p> + +<p class="s">When Salomon sailed from Ophir,</p> + <p class="i1">He sailed not as a king.</p> +<p>The kings—they weltered to and fro,</p> +<p>Tossed wherever the winds could blow;</p> +<p>But Salomon’s tawny seamen</p> + <p class="i1">Could lift their heads and sing,</p> +<p>Till all their crowded clouds of sail</p> + <p class="i1">Grew sweeter than the Spring.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Chorus</i>: Their singing sheets grew sweeter,</p> + <p class="i4">Their crowded clouds grew sweeter,</p> + <p class="i3">For Salomon’s tawny seamen, sirs,</p> + <p class="i4">Could lift their heads and sing:</p> + +<p class="s">When Salomon sailed from Ophir</p> + <p class="i1">With crimson sails so tall,</p> +<p>The kings went up, the kings went down,</p> +<p>Trying to match King Salomon’s crown;</p> +<p>But Salomon brought the sunset</p> + <p class="i1">To hang on his Temple wall;</p> +<p>He rolled it up like a crimson cloth,</p> + <p class="i1">So his was better than all.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page21"></a>21</span></p> +<p class="s"><i>Chorus</i>: Salomon gat the sunset,</p> + <p class="i4">Salomon gat the sunset;</p> + <p class="i3">He carried it like a crimson cloth</p> + <p class="i4">To hang on his Temple wall.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page22"></a>22</span></p> +<h3>BLIND MOONE OF LONDON</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">BLIND Moone of London</p> + <p class="i1">He fiddled up and down,</p> +<p>Thrice for an angel,</p> + <p class="i1">And twice for a crown.</p> +<p>He fiddled at the <i>Green Man</i>,</p> + <p class="i1">He fiddled at the <i>Rose</i>;</p> +<p>And where they have buried him</p> + <p class="i1">Not a soul knows.</p> + +<p class="s">All his tunes are dead and gone, dead as yesterday.</p> + <p class="i3">And his lanthorn flits no more</p> + <p class="i3">Round the <i>Devil Tavern</i> door,</p> +<p>Waiting till the gallants come, singing from the play;</p> + <p class="i3">Waiting in the wet and cold!</p> + <p class="i3">All his Whitsun tales are told.</p> +<p>He is dead and gone, sirs, very far away.</p> + + <p class="i3 s">He would not give a silver groat</p> + <p class="i4">For good or evil weather.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page23"></a>23</span></p> + <p class="i3">He carried in his white cap</p> + <p class="i4">A long red feather.</p> + <p class="i3">He wore a long coat</p> + <p class="i4">Of the Reading-tawny kind,</p> + <p class="i3">And darned white hosen</p> + <p class="i4">With a blue patch behind.</p> + +<p class="s">So—one night—he shuffled past, in his buckled shoon.</p> + <p class="i3">We shall never see his face,</p> + <p class="i3">Twisted to that queer grimace,</p> +<p>Waiting in the wind and rain, till we called his tune;</p> + <p class="i3">Very whimsical and white,</p> + <p class="i3">Waiting on a blue Twelfth Night!</p> +<p>He is grown too proud at last—old blind Moone.</p> + + <p class="i3">Yet, when May was at the door,</p> + <p class="i4">And Moone was wont to sing,</p> + <p class="i3">Many a maid and bachelor</p> + <p class="i4">Whirled into the ring:</p> + <p class="i3">Standing on a tilted wain</p> + <p class="i4">He played so sweet and loud</p> + <p class="i3">The Mayor forgot his golden chain</p> + <p class="i4">And jigged it with the crowd.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page24"></a>24</span></p> +<p class="s">Old blind Moone, his fiddle scattered flowers along the street;</p> + <p class="i3">Into the dust of Brookfield Fair</p> + <p class="i3">Carried a shining primrose air,</p> +<p>Crooning like a poor mad maid, O, very low and sweet,</p> + <p class="i3">Drew us close, and held us bound,</p> + <p class="i3">Then—to the tune of <i>Pedlar’s Pound</i>,</p> +<p>Caught us up, and whirled us round, a thousand frolic feet.</p> + + <p class="i3 s">Master Shakespeare was his host.</p> + <p class="i4">The tribe of Benjamin</p> + <p class="i3">Used to call him Merlin’s Ghost</p> + <p class="i4">At the <i>Mermaid Inn</i>.</p> + <p class="i3">He was only a crowder,</p> + <p class="i4">Fiddling at the door.</p> + <p class="i3">Death has made him prouder.</p> + <p class="i4">We shall not see him more.</p> + +<p class="s">Only—if you listen, please—through the master’s themes,</p> + <p class="i3">You shall hear a wizard strain,</p> + <p class="i3">Blind and bright as wind and rain</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page25"></a>25</span></p> +<p>Shaken out of willow-trees, and shot with elfin gleams.</p> + <p class="i3"><i>How should I your true love know?</i></p> + <p class="i3">Scraps and snatches—even so!</p> +<p>That is old blind Moone again, fiddling in your dreams.</p> + + <p class="i3 s">Once, when Will had called for sack</p> + <p class="i4">And bidden him up and play,</p> + <p class="i3">Old blind Moone, he turned his back,</p> + <p class="i4">Growled, and walked away,</p> + <p class="i3">Sailed into a thunder-cloud,</p> + <p class="i4">Snapped his fiddle-string,</p> + <p class="i3">And hobbled from <i>The Mermaid</i></p> + <p class="i4">Sulky as a king.</p> + +<p class="s">Only from the darkness now, steals the strain we knew:</p> + <p class="i3">No one even knows his grave!</p> + <p class="i3">Only here and there a stave,</p> +<p>Out of all his hedge-row flock, be-drips the may with dew.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page26"></a>26</span></p> + <p class="i3">And I know not what wild bird</p> + <p class="i3">Carried us his parting word:—</p> +<p><i>Master Shakespeare needn’t take the crowder’s fiddle, too.</i></p> + + <p class="i3 s">Will has wealth and wealth to spare.</p> + <p class="i4">Give him back his own.</p> + <p class="i3"><i>At his head a grass-green turf,</i></p> + <p class="i4"><i>At his heels a stone.</i></p> + <p class="i3">See his little lanthorn-spark.</p> + <p class="i4">Hear his ghostly tune,</p> + <p class="i3">Glimmering past you, in the dark,</p> + <p class="i4">Old blind Moone!</p> + +<p class="s">All the little crazy brooks, where love and sorrow run</p> + <p class="i3">Crowned with sedge and singing wild,</p> + <p class="i3">Like a sky-lark—or a child!—</p> +<p>Old blind Moone, he knew their springs, and played ’em every one;</p> + <p class="i3">Stood there, in the darkness, blind,</p> + <p class="i3">And sang them into Shakespeare’s mind....</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page27"></a>27</span></p> +<p>Old blind Moone of London, O now his songs are done,</p> +<p>The light upon his lost white face, they say it was the sun!</p> + +<p class="s">The light upon his poor old face, they say it was the sun!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page28"></a>28</span></p> +<h3>OLD GREY SQUIRREL</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">A GREAT while ago, there was a school-boy.</p> + <p class="i1">He lived in a cottage by the sea.</p> +<p>And the very first thing he could remember</p> + <p class="i1">Was the rigging of the schooners by the quay.</p> + +<p class="s">He could watch them, when he woke, from his window,</p> + <p class="i1">With the tall cranes hoisting out the freight.</p> +<p>And he used to think of shipping as a sea-cook,</p> + <p class="i1">And sailing to the Golden Gate.</p> + + +<p class="s">For he used to buy the yellow penny dreadfuls,</p> + <p class="i1">And read them where he fished for conger eels,</p> +<p>And listened to the lapping of the water,</p> + <p class="i1">The green and oily water round the keels.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page29"></a>29</span></p> +<p class="s">There were trawlers with their shark-mouthed flat-fish,</p> + <p class="i1">And red nets hanging out to dry,</p> +<p>And the skate the skipper kept because he liked ’em,</p> + <p class="i1">And landsmen never knew the fish to fry.</p> + +<p class="s">There were brigantines with timber out of Norroway,</p> + <p class="i1">Oozing with the syrups of the pine.</p> +<p>There were rusty dusty schooners out of Sunderland,</p> + <p class="i1">And ships of the Blue Cross line.</p> + + +<p class="s">And to tumble down a hatch into the cabin</p> + <p class="i1">Was better than the best of broken rules;</p> +<p>For the smell of ’em was like a Christmas dinner,</p> + <p class="i1">And the feel of ’em was like a box of tools.</p> + + +<p class="s">And, before he went to sleep in the evening,</p> + <p class="i1">The very last thing that he could see</p> +<p>Was the sailor-men a-dancing in the moonlight</p> + <p class="i1">By the capstan that stood upon the quay.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page30"></a>30</span></p> +<p class="s"><i>He is perched upon a high stool in London.</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>The Golden Gate is very far away.</i></p> +<p><i>They caught him, and they caged him, like a squirrel.</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>He is totting up accounts, and going grey.</i></p> + + +<p class="s"><i>He will never, never, never sail to ’Frisco.</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>But the very last thing that he will see</i></p> +<p><i>Will be sailor-men a-dancing in the sunrise</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>By the capstan that stands upon the quay....</i></p> + + +<p class="s"><i>To the tune of an old concertina,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>By the capstan that stands upon the quay.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page31"></a>31</span></p> +<h3>THE GREAT NORTH ROAD</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">JUST as the moon was rising, I met a ghostly pedlar</p> + <p class="i1">Singing for company beneath his ghostly load,—</p> +<p>Once, there were velvet lads with vizards on their faces,</p> + <p class="i1">Riding up to rob me on the great North Road.</p> + +<p class="s">Now, my pack is heavy, and my pocket full of guineas</p> + <p class="i1">Chimes like a wedding-peal, but little I enjoy</p> +<p>Roads that never echo to the chirrup of their canter,—</p> + <p class="i1">The gay Golden Farmer and the Hereford Boy.</p> + +<p class="s">Rogues were they all, but their raid was from Elf-land!</p> + <p class="i1">Shod with elfin silver were the steeds they bestrode.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page32"></a>32</span></p> +<p>Merlin buckled on the spurs that wheeled thro’ the wet fern</p> + <p class="i1">Bright as Jack-o’-Lanthorns off the great North Road.</p> + +<p class="s">Tales were told in country inns when Turpin rode to Rippleside!</p> + <p class="i1">Puck tuned the fiddle-strings, and country maids grew coy,</p> +<p>Tavern doors grew magical when Colonel Jack might tap at them,</p> + <p class="i1">The gay Golden Farmer and the Hereford Boy.</p> + +<p class="s">What are you seeking then? I asked this honest pedlar.</p> + <p class="i1">—O, Mulled Sack or Natty Hawes might ease me of my load!—</p> +<p>Where are they flown then?—Flown where I follow;</p> + <p class="i1">They are all gone for ever up the great North Road.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page33"></a>33</span></p> +<p class="s">Rogues were they all; but the white dust assoils ’em!</p> + <p class="i1">Paradise without a spice of deviltry would cloy.</p> +<p>Heavy is my pack till I meet with Jerry Abershaw,</p> + <p class="i1">The gay Golden Farmer and the Hereford Boy.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page34"></a>34</span></p> +<h3>THE RIVER OF STARS</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>A tale of Niagara</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">T<i>HE lights of a hundred cities are fed by its midnight power.</i></p> +<p><i>Their wheels are moved by its thunder. But they, too, have their hour.</i></p> +<p><i>The tale of the Indian lovers, a cry from the years that are flown,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>While the river of stars is rolling,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Rolling away to the darkness,</i></p> +<p><i>Abides with the power in the midnight, where love may find its own.</i></p> + +<p class="s">She watched from the Huron tents, till the first star shook in the air.</p> +<p>The sweet pine scented her fawn-skins, and breathed from her braided hair.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page35"></a>35</span></p> +<p>Her crown was of milk-white blood-root, because of the tryst she would keep,</p> + <p class="i2">Beyond the river of beauty</p> + <p class="i3">That drifted away in the darkness</p> +<p>Drawing the sunset thro’ lilies, with eyes like stars, to the deep.</p> + +<p class="s">He watched, like a tall young wood-god, from the red pine that she named;</p> +<p>But not for the peril behind him, where the eyes of the Mohawks flamed.</p> +<p>Eagle-plumed he stood. But his heart was hunting afar,</p> + <p class="i2">Where the river of longing whispered ...</p> + <p class="i3">And one swift shaft from the darkness</p> +<p>Felled him, her name in his death-cry, his eyes on the sunset star.</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 1.7em; font-size: 150%;"> .......</p> + +<p class="s">She stole from the river and listened. The moon on her wet skin shone.</p> +<p>As a silver birch in a pine-wood, her beauty flashed and was gone.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page36"></a>36</span></p> +<p>There was no wave in the forest. The dark arms closed her round.</p> + <p class="i2">But the river of life went flowing,</p> + <p class="i3">Flowing away to the darkness,</p> +<p>For her breast grew red with his heart’s blood, in a night where the stars are drowned.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Teach me, O my lover, as you taught me of love in a day,</i></p> +<p><i>Teach me of death, and for ever, and set my feet on the way,</i></p> +<p><i>To the land of the happy shadows, the land where you are flown.</i></p> + <p class="i2">—And the river of death went weeping,</p> + <p class="i3">Weeping away to the darkness.—</p> +<p><i>Is the hunting good, my lover, so good that you hunt alone?</i></p> + +<p class="s">She rose to her feet like a shadow. She sent a cry thro’ the night,</p> +<p><i>Sa-sa-kuon</i>, the death-whoop, that tells of triumph in fight.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page37"></a>37</span></p> +<p>It broke from the bell of her mouth like the cry of a wounded bird,</p> + <p class="i2">But the river of agony swelled it</p> + <p class="i3">And swept it along to the darkness,</p> +<p>And the Mohawks, couched in the darkness, leapt to their feet as they heard.</p> + +<p class="s">Close as the ring of the clouds that menace the moon with death,</p> +<p>At once they circled her round. Her bright breast panted for breath.</p> +<p>With only her own wild glory keeping the wolves at bay,</p> + <p class="i2">While the river of parting whispered,</p> + <p class="i3">Whispered away to the darkness,</p> +<p>She looked in their eyes for a moment, and strove for a word to say.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Teach me, O my lover!</i>—She set her foot on the dead.</p> +<p>She laughed on the painted faces with their rings of yellow and red,—</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page38"></a>38</span></p> +<p><i>I thank you, wolves of the Mohawk, for a woman’s hands might fail.</i>—</p> + <p class="i2">—And the river of vengeance chuckled,</p> + <p class="i3">Chuckled away to the darkness,—</p> +<p><i>But ye have killed where I hunted. I have come to the end of my trail.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>I thank you, braves of the Mohawk, who laid this thief at my feet.</i></p> +<p><i>He tore my heart out living, and tossed it his dogs to eat.</i></p> +<p><i>Ye have taught him of death in a moment, as he taught me of love in a day.</i></p> + <p class="i2">—And the river of passion deepened,</p> + <p class="i3">Deepened and rushed to the darkness.—</p> +<p><i>And yet may a woman requite you, and set your feet on the way.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>For the woman that spits in my face, and the shaven heads that gibe,</i></p> +<p><i>This night shall a woman show you the tents of the Huron tribe.</i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page39"></a>39</span></p> +<p><i>They are lodged in a deep valley. With all things good it abounds.</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Where the red-eyed, green-mooned river</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Glides like a snake to the darkness,</i></p> +<p><i>I will show you a valley, Mohawks, like the Happy Hunting Grounds.</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>Follow!</i> They chuckled, and followed like wolves to the glittering stream.</p> +<p>Shadows obeying a shadow, they launched their canoes in a dream.</p> +<p>Alone, in the first, with the blood on her breast, and her milk-white crown,</p> + <p class="i2">She stood. She smiled at them, <i>Follow</i>,</p> + <p class="i3">Then urged her canoe to the darkness,</p> +<p>And, silently flashing their paddles, the Mohawks followed her down.</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 1.7em; font-size: 150%;"> .......</p> + +<p class="s">And now—-as they slid thro’ the pine-woods with their peaks of midnight blue,</p> +<p>She heard, in the broadening distance, the deep sound that she knew,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page40"></a>40</span></p> +<p>A mutter of steady thunder that grew as they glanced along;</p> + <p class="i2">But ever she glanced before them</p> + <p class="i3">And glanced away to the darkness,</p> +<p>And or ever they heard it rightly, she raised her voice in a song:—</p> + +<p class="s"><i>The wind from the Isles of the Blesséd, it blows across the foam.</i></p> +<p><i>It sings in the flowing maples of the land that was my home.</i></p> +<p><i>Where the moose is a morning’s hunt, and the buffalo feeds from the hand.</i>—</p> + <p class="i2">And the river of mockery broadened,</p> + <p class="i3">Broadened and rolled to the darkness—</p> +<p><i>And the green maize lifts its feathers, and laughs the snow from the land.</i></p> + +<p class="s">The river broadened and quickened. There was nought but river and sky.</p> +<p>The shores were lost in the darkness. She laughed and lifted a cry:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page41"></a>41</span></p> +<p><i>Follow me! Sa-sa-kuon!</i> Swifter and swifter they swirled—</p> + <p class="i2">And the flood of their doom went flying,</p> + <p class="i3">Flying away to the darkness,</p> +<p><i>Follow me, follow me, Mohawks, ye are shooting the edge of the world.</i></p> + +<p class="s">They struggled like snakes to return. Like straws they were whirled on her track.</p> +<p>For the whole flood swooped to that edge where the unplumbed night dropt black,</p> +<p>The whole flood dropt to a thunder in an unplumbed hell beneath,</p> + <p class="i2">And over the gulf of the thunder</p> + <p class="i3">A mountain of spray from the darkness</p> +<p>Rose and stood in the heavens, like a shrouded image of death.</p> + +<p class="s">She rushed like a star before them. The moon on her glorying shone.</p> +<p><i>Teach me, O my lover</i>,—her cry flashed out and was gone.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page42"></a>42</span></p> +<p>A moment they battled behind her. They lashed with their paddles and lunged;</p> + <p class="i2">Then the Mohawks, turning their faces</p> + <p class="i3">Like a blood-stained cloud to the darkness,</p> +<p>Over the edge of Niagara swept together and plunged.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>And the lights of a hundred cities are fed by the ancient power;</i></p> +<p><i>But a cry returns with the midnight; for they, too, have their hour.</i></p> +<p><i>Teach me, O my lover, as you taught me of love in a day,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>—While the river of stars is rolling,</i></p> + <p class="i3"><i>Rolling away to the darkness,—</i></p> +<p><i>Teach me of death, and for ever, and set my feet on the way!</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page43"></a>43</span></p> +<h3>A KNIGHT OF OLD JAPAN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">MAKE me a stave of song, the Master said,</p> +<p>On yonder cherry-bough, whose white and red</p> + <p class="i1">Hangs in the sunset over those green seas.</p> +<p>The young knight looked upon his untried blade,</p> +<p>Then shrugged his wings of gold and blue brocade:</p> + <p class="i1"><i>How should a warrior play with thoughts like these?</i></p> + +<p class="s">Fresh from the battle, in that self-same hour,</p> +<p>A mail-clad warrior watched each delicate flower</p> + <p class="i1">Close in that cloud of beauty against the West.</p> +<p>Drinking the last deep light, he watched it long.</p> +<p>He raised his face as if to pray. <i>The strong</i>,</p> + <p class="i1">The Master whispered, <i>are the tenderest</i>.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page44"></a>44</span></p> +<h3>BEYOND DEATH</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<h5>I</h5> + +<p class="dropcap">IN lonely bays</p> +<p>Where Love runs wild,</p> + <p class="i1">All among the flowering grasses,</p> +<p>Where light, light, light, as a sea-bird’s wing</p> + <p class="i1">The chuckle of the child-god passes,</p> +<p>O, to awake, to shake away the night</p> + <p class="i1">And find you dreaming there,</p> +<p>On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you,</p> + <p class="i1">And the scent of the thyme in your hair.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Tho’ beauty perish,</p> +<p>Perish like a flower,</p> + <p class="i1">And song be an idle breath,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page45"></a>45</span></p> +<p>Tho’ heaven be a dream, and youth for but an hour,</p> + <p class="i1">And life much less than death,</p> +<p>And the Maker less than that He made,</p> + <p class="i1">And hope less than despair,</p> +<p>If Death have shores where Love runs wild</p> + <p class="i1">I think you might be there.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Re-born, re-born</p> +<p>From the splendid sea,</p> + <p class="i1">There should you awake and sing,</p> +<p>With every supple sweet from the head to the feet</p> + <p class="i1">Modelled like a wood-dove’s wing,—</p> +<p>O, to awake, to shake away the night,</p> + <p class="i1">And find you happy there,</p> +<p>On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you,</p> + <p class="i1">And the scent of the thyme in your hair.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page46"></a>46</span></p> +<h3>THE STRANGE GUEST</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">YOU cannot leave a new house</p> + <p class="i1">With any open door,</p> +<p>But a strange guest will enter it</p> + <p class="i1">And never leave it more.</p> + +<p class="s">Build it on a waste land,</p> + <p class="i1">Dreary as a sin.</p> +<p>Leave her but a broken gate,</p> + <p class="i1">And Beauty will come in.</p> + +<p class="s">Build it all of scarlet brick.</p> + <p class="i1">Work your wicked will.</p> +<p>Dump it on an ash-heap</p> + <p class="i1">Then—O then, be still.</p> + +<p class="s">Sit and watch your new house.</p> + <p class="i1">Leave an open door.</p> +<p>A strange guest will enter it</p> + <p class="i1">And never leave it more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page47"></a>47</span></p> +<p class="s">She will make your raw wood</p> + <p class="i1">Mellower than gold.</p> +<p>She will take your new lamps</p> + <p class="i1">And sell them for old.</p> + +<p class="s">She will crumble all your pride,</p> + <p class="i1">Break your folly down.</p> +<p>Much that you rejected</p> + <p class="i1">She will bless and crown.</p> + +<p class="s">She will rust your naked roof,</p> + <p class="i1">Split your pavement through,</p> +<p>Dip her brush in sun and moon</p> + <p class="i1">And colour it anew.</p> + +<p class="s">Leave her but a window</p> + <p class="i1">Wide to wind and rain,</p> +<p>You shall find her footsteps</p> + <p class="i1">When you come again.</p> + +<p class="s">Though she keep you waiting</p> + <p class="i1">Many months or years,</p> +<p>She shall stain and make it</p> + <p class="i1">Beautiful with tears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page48"></a>48</span></p> +<p class="s">She shall hurt and heal it,</p> + <p class="i1">Soften it and save,</p> +<p>Blessing it, until it stand</p> + <p class="i1">Stronger than the grave.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>You cannot leave a new house</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>With any open door,</i></p> +<p><i>But a strange guest will enter it</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>And never leave it more.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page49"></a>49</span></p> +<h3>GHOSTS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">O TO creep in by candle-light,</p> + <p class="i1">When all the world is fast asleep,</p> +<p>Out of the cold winds, out of the night,</p> + <p class="i1">Where the nettles wave and the rains weep!</p> +<p>O, to creep in, lifting the latch</p> + <p class="i1">So quietly that no soul could hear,</p> +<p>And, at those embers in the gloom,</p> + <p class="i1">Quietly light one careful match—</p> +<p>You should not hear it, have no fear—</p> + <p class="i1">And light the candle and look round</p> +<p>The old familiar room;</p> + <p class="i1">To see the old books upon the wall</p> +<p>And lovingly take one down again,</p> + <p class="i1">And hear—O, strange to those that lay</p> +<p>So patiently underground—</p> + <p class="i1">The ticking of the clock, the sound</p> +<p>Of clicking embers ...</p> + <p class="i10">watch the play</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page50"></a>50</span></p> +<p>Of shadows ...</p> + <p class="i12">till the implacable call</p> +<p>Of morning turn our faces grey;</p> + <p class="i1">And, or ever we go, we lift and kiss</p> +<p>Some idle thing that your hands may touch,</p> + <p class="i1">Some paper or book that your hands let fall,</p> +<p>And we never—when living—had cared so much</p> + <p class="i1">As to glance upon twice ...</p> + <p class="i12">But now, O bliss</p> +<p>To kiss and to cherish it, moaning our pain,</p> + <p class="i1">Ere we creep to the silence again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page51"></a>51</span></p> +<h3>THE DAY OF REMEMBRANCE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">DAZZLE of the sea, azure of the sky, glitter of the dew on the grass,</p> + <p class="i2">Pass to Oblivion</p> + <p class="i3">In the darkness</p> + <p class="i1">With all that ever is or ever was.</p> + +<p class="s">Yet, O flocks of cloud with your violet shadows,</p> + <p class="i4">O white may crowding o’er the lane,</p> + <p class="i2">The Shepherd that drives you</p> + <p class="i3">To the darkness</p> + <p class="i1">Shall lead you thro’ the crimson dawn again.</p> + +<p class="s">Bear your load of beauty to the sunset, and the golden gates of death.</p> + <p class="i2">The Eternal shall remember</p> + <p class="i3">In the darkness</p> + <p class="i1">And recall you at a word, at a breath.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page52"></a>52</span></p> +<p class="s">Even as the mind of a man may remember his lost and linkless hours,</p> + <p class="i2">This world that is scattered</p> + <p class="i3">To the darkness</p> + <p class="i1">Dismembered and dis-petalled, clouds and flowers,</p> + +<p class="s">Cities, suns, and systems, as He said of old, they sleep! Not a bird, not a leaf shall pass by,</p> + <p class="i2">But on the day of remembrance</p> + <p class="i3">In the darkness,</p> + <p class="i1">In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,</p> + +<p class="s">They shall flash to their places in the music of the whole, even as our fathers said!</p> + <p class="i2">For a Power shall remember</p> + <p class="i3">In the darkness,</p> + <p class="i1">And the universal sea give up her dead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page53"></a>53</span></p> +<h3>ON THE EMBANKMENT</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">WITHIN, it was colour and laughter, warmth and wine.</p> + <p class="i1">Without, it was darkness, hunger and bitter cold,</p> +<p>Where those white globes on the wet Embankment shine,</p> + <p class="i1">Greasing the Thames with gold.</p> + +<p class="s">And was it a bundle of fog in the dark drew nigh?</p> + <p class="i1">A bundle of rags and bones it crept to the light,—</p> +<p>A monstrous thing that coughed as it shuffled by,</p> + <p class="i1">A shape of the shapeless night,</p> + +<p class="s">Spawned as brown things that mimic their mothering earth,</p> + <p class="i1">Green creeping things that the grass lifts to the sun,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page54"></a>54</span></p> +<p>Out of its wrongs the City had brought to the birth</p> + <p class="i1">The shape of those wrongs, in one.</p> + +<p class="s">A woman, a woman whose lips had once been kissed,</p> + <p class="i1">(It was Christmas Eve, and the bells began their chime!)</p> +<p>She sank to a seat like a coughing bundle of mist</p> + <p class="i1">Exhaled from the river-slime.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Bells for the birth of Christ!</i> She heard, and she thought—</p> + <p class="i1">Vacantly—of her man, that was long since dead,</p> +<p>The smell of the Christmas food, and the drink they had bought</p> + <p class="i1">Together, the year they were wed.</p> + +<p class="s">She thought of their one-room home, and the night-long sigh</p> + <p class="i1">Recalled, as he slept, of his breath in her loosened hair.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page55"></a>55</span></p> +<p><i>He slept.</i> She opened her haggard eyes with a cry.</p> + <p class="i1">But only the night was there.</p> + +<p class="s">Nay, out of the formless night, at her furtive glance,</p> + <p class="i1">Crouched at the end of her cold wet bench, there grew</p> +<p>A bundle of fog, a bundle of rags that, perchance,</p> + <p class="i1">Once was a woman, too.</p> + +<p class="s">A huddled shape, a fungus of foul grey mist</p> + <p class="i1">Spawned of the river, in peace and much good-will,</p> +<p>And even the woman whose lips had once been kissed</p> + <p class="i1">Wondered, it crouched so still.</p> + +<p class="s">No breath, no shadow of breath in the lamp-light smoked,</p> + <p class="i1">It crouched so still—that bunch at the bench’s end.</p> +<p>She stretched her neck like a crow, then leaned and croaked,</p> + <p class="i1">“<i>A Merry Christmas, friend!</i>”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page56"></a>56</span></p> +<p class="s">She rose, and peered, peered at its vacant eyes.</p> + <p class="i1">Touched its cold claws. Its arms of knotted bone</p> +<p>Were wands of ice; like iron rods the thighs;</p> + <p class="i1">The left breast—like a stone.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Far, far along the rows of warmth and light</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>The Christmas waits, with cornet and bassoon,</i></p> +<p><i>Carolled “While shepherds watched their flocks by night.”</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>The bells pealed to the moon.</i></p> + +<p class="s">A bundle of rags and bones, a bundle of mist,</p> + <p class="i1">And never a hell or heaven to hear or see,</p> +<p>The woman, the woman whose lips had once been kissed,</p> + <p class="i1">Knelt down feverishly.</p> + +<p class="s">She plucked the shawl out of that frozen clutch.</p> + <p class="i1">The dead are dead. Why should the living freeze?</p> +<p>She touched the cold flesh that she feared to touch</p> + <p class="i1">Kneeling upon her knees.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page57"></a>57</span></p> +<p class="s">Her palsied hands unlaced the shoes—good shoes!—</p> + <p class="i1">She tore them quick from the crooked yellow feet.</p> +<p>If Death be generous, why should Life refuse</p> + <p class="i1">To take, and pawn, and eat?</p> + +<p class="s">A heavy step drew nearer thro’ the mist.</p> + <p class="i1">She bundled them into the shawl. Her eyes were bright.</p> +<p>The woman, the woman whose lips had once been kissed,</p> + <p class="i1">Slunk, chuckling, thro’ the night.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page58"></a>58</span></p> +<h3>THE IRON CROWN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">NOT memory of a vanished bliss,</p> + <p class="i1">But suddenly to know,</p> +<p>I had forgotten! This, O this</p> + <p class="i1">With iron crowned my woe:</p> + +<p class="s">To know that on some midnight sea</p> + <p class="i1">Whence none could lift the pall</p> +<p>A drowning hand was waved to me,</p> + <p class="i1">Then—swept beyond recall.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page59"></a>59</span></p> +<h3>THE OLD DEBATE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">HIS angels fell, and myriads grope</p> + <p class="i1">In doubt, for this dark cause alone,—</p> +<p>That God hath given them room for hope,</p> + <p class="i1">And made their struggling wills their own.</p> + +<p class="s">In the same breath, they plead for chains</p> + <p class="i1">And freedom; pray for ordered spheres,</p> +<p>Then murmur that the sun retains</p> + <p class="i1">Its course, unchecked by smiles or tears.</p> + +<p class="s">“The Omnipotent would grant us this,</p> + <p class="i1">Or else He is not good,” they say;</p> +<p>But O, the Power withholds their bliss</p> + <p class="i1">Till they agree what prayer to pray.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page60"></a>60</span></p> +<h3>A SONG OF HOPE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">NOT in those eyes, too kind for truth,</p> + <p class="i1">Which dare not note how beauties wane;</p> +<p>Nor in that crueller joy of youth</p> + <p class="i1">Which turns from sorrow with disdain;</p> + <p class="i5">No—no—not there,</p> + <p class="i1">Abides the hope that answers our despair.</p> + +<p class="s">Lie where they hid thy dead away.</p> + <p class="i1">Knock on that unrelenting door;</p> +<p>Then break, O desolate heart, and say</p> + <p class="i1">Farewell, farewell, for evermore ...</p> + <p class="i5">There, only there,</p> + <p class="i1">Abides the hope that conquers all despair.</p> + +<p class="s">The silence that refused to bless</p> + <p class="i1">Till grief had turned the heart to stone ...</p> +<p>What soul compact of nothingness</p> + <p class="i1">Could hear so fierce a trumpet blown?</p> + <p class="i5">Then hear, O hear,</p> + <p class="i1">The dreadful hope that equals all despair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page61"></a>61</span></p> +<p class="s">There, till the deep atoning Might</p> + <p class="i1">Shall answer all that each can pray,</p> +<p>The very boundlessness of night</p> + <p class="i1">Proclaims—and waits—an equal day.</p> + <p class="i5">There, only there,</p> +<p>—<i>But O, sing low, sweet strings, lest hope take wing!</i>—</p> + <p class="i1">Abides the hope that answers all despair.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page62"></a>62</span></p> +<h3>THE HEDGE-ROSE OPENS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">HOW passionately it opens after rain,</p> + <p class="i1">And O, how like a prayer</p> +<p>To those great shining skies! Do they disdain</p> + <p class="i5">A bride so small and fair?</p> +<p>See the imploring petals, how they part</p> + <p class="i5">And utterly lay bare</p> +<p>The perishing treasures of that piteous heart</p> + <p class="i5">In wild surrender there.</p> +<p>What? Would’st <i>thou</i>, too, drink up the Eternal bliss,</p> + <p class="i5">Ecstatically dare,</p> +<p>O, little bride of God, to invoke <i>His</i> kiss?—</p> + <p class="i5">But O, how like a prayer!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page63"></a>63</span></p> +<h3>THE MAY-TREE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THE May-tree on the hill</p> + <p class="i1">Stands in the night</p> +<p>So fragrant and so still,</p> + <p class="i1">So dusky white.</p> + +<p class="s">That, stealing from the wood</p> + <p class="i1">In that sweet air,</p> +<p>You’d think Diana stood</p> + <p class="i1">Before you there.</p> + +<p class="s">If it be so, her bloom</p> + <p class="i1">Trembles with bliss.</p> +<p>She waits across the gloom</p> + <p class="i1">Her shepherd’s kiss.</p> + +<p class="s">Touch her. A bird will start</p> + <p class="i1">From those pure snows,—</p> +<p>The dark and fluttering heart</p> + <p class="i1">Endymion knows.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page64"></a>64</span></p> +<h3>OLD LETTERS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">READ them? Strangle that sick cry?</p> + <p class="i2">Christ God, no!</p> +<p>Shut the box. Lock the lid.</p> + <p class="i2">You’ll be safer—so.</p> +<p>Could you read one crookéd word</p> + <p class="i2">Scrawled so long ago,</p> +<p>Love would rise before your face</p> + <p class="i2">And blind you, like a blow.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Close it! Quickly! For I caught,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>In a childish hand,</i></p> +<p><i>Something that she never thought</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>I should understand.</i></p> + +<p class="s">So I crouch. And shall our God</p> + <p class="i2">Prove Him baser yet,</p> +<p>He who filled her eyes with light</p> + <p class="i2">Quite renounce His debt,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page65"></a>65</span></p> +<p class="s">Give her worlds to love, and then—</p> + <p class="i2">Ere the sun be set,</p> +<p>Strike her down and coffin all?</p> + <p class="i2">Christ, shall <i>He</i> forget?</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Close it! Quickly! For I caught,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>In a childish hand,</i></p> +<p><i>Something that she never thought</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>I should understand.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page66"></a>66</span></p> +<h3>LAMPS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">IMMENSE and silent night,</p> + <p class="i1">Over the lonely downs I go;</p> +<p>And the deep gloom is pricked with points of light</p> + <p class="i1">Above me and below.</p> + +<p class="s">I cannot break the bars</p> + <p class="i1">Of Time and Fate; and if I scan the sky,</p> +<p>There comes to me, questioning those cold stars,</p> + <p class="i1">No signal, no reply.</p> + +<p class="s">Yet are they less than these—</p> + <p class="i1">These village-lights, which I do scan</p> +<p>Below me, or far out on darkling seas</p> + <p class="i1">Those messages from man?</p> + +<p class="s">Round me the darkness rolls.</p> + <p class="i1">Out of the depth, each lance of light</p> +<p>Shoots from lost lanthorns, thrills from living souls,</p> + <p class="i1">And shall I doubt the height?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page67"></a>67</span></p> +<p class="s">No signal? No reply?</p> + <p class="i1">As through the deepening night I roam,</p> +<p>Hope opens all her casements in the sky</p> + <p class="i1">And lights the lamps of home.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page68"></a>68</span></p> +<h3>AT EDEN GATES</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">T<i>O Eden Garden</i>—so the sign-post said;</p> + <p class="i1">I could not see the road;</p> +<p>But, where the Sussex clover blossomed red</p> + <p class="i1">Its runaway blisses flowed.</p> + +<p class="s">I traced them back for many a night and day,</p> + <p class="i1">—The way she, too, had gone!—</p> +<p>Till lo, the terrible Angel in the way</p> + <p class="i1">Inexorably shone.</p> + +<p class="s">Up to the Gates, a fearless fool I came;</p> + <p class="i1">Between the lily and rose</p> +<p>Fluttering these evil rags of sordid shame,</p> + <p class="i1">A thing to scare the crows.</p> + +<p class="s">“And hath the Master given thee, then, no word?”</p> + <p class="i1">The scornful Angel smiled:</p> +<p>Only two souls may pass my Flaming Sword,—</p> + <p class="i1">The Lover and the Child.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page69"></a>69</span></p> +<p class="s">I raised my head,—“Now let all hell make mirth,</p> + <p class="i1">Where Love went, I go, too!”</p> +<p>His eyes met mine. The sword sank to the earth,</p> + <p class="i1">And let her lover through.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page70"></a>70</span></p> +<h3>THE PSYCHE OF OUR DAY</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">AS constant lovers may rejoice</p> + <p class="i1">With seas between, with worlds between,</p> +<p>Because a fragrance and a voice</p> + <p class="i1">Are round them everywhere:</p> +<p>So let me travel to the grave,</p> + <p class="i1">Believing still—for I have seen—</p> +<p>That Love’s triumphant banners wave</p> + <p class="i1">Beyond my own despair.</p> + +<p class="s">I have no trust in my own worth;</p> + <p class="i1">Yet have I faith, O love, for you,</p> +<p>That every beauty in bloom or leaf,</p> + <p class="i1">That even age and wrong</p> +<p>May touch, may hurt you, on this earth,</p> + <p class="i1">But only, only as kisses do;</p> +<p>Or as the fretted string of grief</p> + <p class="i1">Completes the bliss of song;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page71"></a>71</span></p> +<p class="s">That you shall see, on any grave</p> + <p class="i1">The snow fall, like that unseen hand</p> +<p>Which O, so often, pressed your hair</p> + <p class="i1">To cherish and console:</p> +<p>That seas may roar and winds rave</p> + <p class="i1">But you shall feel and understand</p> +<p>What vast caresses everywhere</p> + <p class="i1">Convey you to the goal.</p> + +<p class="s">So was it always in the years</p> + <p class="i1">When Love began, when Love began</p> +<p>With eyes that were not touched of tears</p> + <p class="i1">And lips that still could sing—</p> +<p>And all around us, in the may,</p> + <p class="i1">The child-god with his laughter ran,</p> +<p>And every bloom, on every spray,</p> + <p class="i1">Betrayed his fluttering wing.</p> + +<p class="s">So hold it, keep it, count it, sweet,</p> + <p class="i1">Until the end, until the end.</p> +<p>It is not cruelty, but bliss</p> + <p class="i1">That pains and is so fond:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page72"></a>72</span></p> +<p>Crush life like thyme beneath your feet,</p> + <p class="i1">And O, my love, when that strange friend,</p> +<p>The Shadow of Wings, which men call Death</p> + <p class="i1">Shall close your eyes, with that last kiss,</p> +<p>Ask not His name. A rosier breath</p> + <p class="i1">Shall waken you—beyond.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page73"></a>73</span></p> +<h3>PARACLETE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">TONGUE hath not told it,</p> + <p class="i1">Heart hath not known;</p> +<p>Yet shall the bough swing</p> + <p class="i1">When it hath flown.</p> + +<p class="s">Dreams have denied it,</p> + <p class="i1">Fools forsworn:</p> +<p>Yet it hath comforted</p> + <p class="i1">Each man born.</p> + +<p class="s">Once and again it is</p> + <p class="i1">Blown to me,</p> +<p>Sweet from the wild thyme,</p> + <p class="i1">Salt from the sea;</p> + +<p class="s">Blown thro’ the ferns</p> + <p class="i1">Faint from the sky;</p> +<p>Shadowed in water,</p> + <p class="i1">Yet clear as a cry.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page74"></a>74</span></p> +<p class="s">Light on a face,</p> + <p class="i1">Or touch of a hand,</p> +<p>Making my still heart</p> + <p class="i1">Understand.</p> + +<p class="s">Earth hath not seen it.</p> + <p class="i1">Nor heaven above,</p> +<p>Yet shall the wild bough</p> + <p class="i1">Bend with the Dove.</p> + +<p class="s">Yea, tho’ the bloom fall</p> + <p class="i1">Under Thy feet,</p> +<p><i>Veni, Creator,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Paraclete!</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page75"></a>75</span></p> +<h3>AFTER RAIN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">LISTEN! On sweetening air</p> + <p class="i1">The blackbird growing bold</p> +<p>Flings out, where green boughs glisten,</p> + <p class="i1">Three splashes of wild gold.</p> + +<p class="s">Daughter of April, hear;</p> + <p class="i1">And hear, O barefoot boy!</p> +<p>That carol of wild sweet water</p> + <p class="i1">Has washed the world with joy.</p> + +<p class="s">Glisten, O fragrant earth</p> + <p class="i1">Assoiled by heaven anew,</p> +<p>And O, ye lovers, listen,</p> + <p class="i1">With eyes that glisten, too.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page76"></a>76</span></p> +<h3>THE DEATH OF A GREAT MAN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">NO—not that he is dead. The pang’s not there,</p> + <p class="i1">Nor in the City’s many-coloured bloom</p> +<p>Of swift black-lettered posters, which the throng</p> + <p class="i1">Passes with bovine stare,</p> +<p>To say <i>He is dead</i> and <i>Is it going to rain?</i></p> + <p class="i1">Or hum stray snatches of a rag-time song.</p> +<p>Nor is it in that falsest shibboleth</p> +<p>(Which orators toss to the dumb scorn of death)</p> + <p class="i1">That all the world stands weeping at his tomb.</p> +<p>London is dining, dancing, through it all.</p> + <p class="i1">And, in the unchecked smiles along the street</p> +<p>Where men, that slightly knew him, lightly meet,</p> + <p class="i1">With all the old indifferent grimaces,</p> +<p>There is no jot of grief, no tittle of pain.</p> + <p class="i1">No. No. For nearer things do most tears fall.</p> +<p>Grief is for near and little things. But pride,</p> + <p class="i1">O, pride was to be found by two or three,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page77"></a>77</span></p> +<p>And glory in his great battling memory,</p> + <p class="i1">Prouder and purer than the loud world knows,</p> +<p>In one more dreadful sign, the day he died—</p> + <p class="i1">The dreadful light upon a thousand faces,</p> +<p>The peace upon the faces of his foes.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page78"></a>78</span></p> +<h3>THE ROMAN WAY</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">HE that has loyally served the State</p> + <p class="i1">Whereof he found himself a part,</p> +<p>Or spent his life-blood to create</p> + <p class="i1">A kingdom’s treasure in his art;</p> + +<p class="s">Who sees the enemies of his land</p> + <p class="i1">Applauded, by her sects and schools;</p> +<p>And the high thought they scarce had scanned</p> + <p class="i1">Derided and befogged by fools;</p> + +<p class="s">—Better to know it soon than late!—</p> + <p class="i1">Struggling, he wins a meed of praise;</p> +<p>Achieving, he is dogged by hate</p> + <p class="i1">And furtive malice all his days.</p> + +<p class="s">O, Emperor of the Stoic clan,</p> + <p class="i1">Enfold him, then, with nobler pride.</p> +<p>Teach him that nought can hurt a man</p> + <p class="i1">Who will not turn or stoop to chide.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page79"></a>79</span></p> +<p class="s">Can falsehood kindle or bedim</p> + <p class="i1">One bay-leaf in his quiet crown?</p> +<p>Ten thousand Lies may pluck at him,</p> + <p class="i1">But only Truth can tear him down.</p> + +<p class="s">Why should he heed the thing they say?</p> + <p class="i1">They never asked if it were true.</p> +<p>Why brush one scribbler’s tale away</p> + <p class="i1">For others to invent a new?</p> + +<p class="s">No, let him search his heart, secure</p> + <p class="i1">—If Truth be there—from tongue or pen;</p> +<p>And teach us, Emperor, to endure,</p> + <p class="i1">To think like Romans and like men.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page80"></a>80</span></p> +<h3>THE INNER PASSION</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THERE is a Master in my heart</p> + <p class="i1">To whom, though oft against my will,</p> +<p>I bring the songs I sing apart</p> + <p class="i1">And strive to think that they fulfil</p> +<p>His silent law, within my heart.</p> + +<p class="s">But He is blind to my desires,</p> + <p class="i1">And deaf to all that I would plead:</p> +<p>He tests my truth at purer fires</p> + <p class="i1">And shames my purple with His need.</p> +<p>He claims my deeds, not my desires.</p> + +<p class="s">And often when my comrades praise,</p> + <p class="i1">I sadden, for He turns from me!</p> +<p>But, sometimes, when they blame, I raise</p> + <p class="i1">Mine eyes to His, and in them see</p> +<p>A tenderness too deep for praise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page81"></a>81</span></p> +<p class="s">He is not to be bought with gold,</p> + <p class="i1">Or lured by thornless crowns of fame;</p> +<p>But when some rebel thought hath sold</p> + <p class="i1">Him to dishonour and to shame,</p> +<p>And my heart’s Pilate cries, “Behold,”</p> + +<p class="s">“Behold the Man,” I know Him then;</p> + <p class="i1">And all those wild thronged clamours die</p> +<p>In my heart’s judgment hall again,</p> + <p class="i1">Or if it ring with “Crucify!”</p> +<p>Some few are faithful even then.</p> + +<p class="s">Some few sad thoughts,—one bears His cross;</p> + <p class="i1">To that dark Calvary of my pride;</p> +<p>One stands far off and mourns His loss,</p> + <p class="i1">And one poor thief on either side</p> +<p>Hangs on his own unworthy cross.</p> + +<p class="s">And one—O, truth in ancient guise!—</p> + <p class="i1">Rails, and one bids him cease alway,</p> +<p>And the God turns His hungering eyes</p> + <p class="i1">On that poor thought with, “Thou, this day,</p> +<p>Shalt sing, shalt sing, in Paradise.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page82"></a>82</span></p> +<h3>A COUNTRY LANE IN HEAVEN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THE exceeding weight of glory bowed</p> + <p class="i1">My head, in that pure clime:</p> +<p>I found a road that ran through cloud</p> + <p class="i1">Along the coasts of Time....</p> + +<p class="s">Out of that mist of years there came</p> + <p class="i1">A cross-barred gate of wood.</p> +<p>I clutched, I kissed the unheavenly frame</p> + <p class="i1">So hard, it trickled blood.</p> + +<p class="s">My head upon the iron lay.</p> + <p class="i1">I slobbered blood and foam.</p> +<p>Yea, like a dog, I knew the way,</p> + <p class="i1">A hundred yards from home.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>Iron and blood and wood! They knew</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>The secret of that cry</i></p> +<p><i>When the Eternal Passion drew</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Their Maker through—to die.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page83"></a>83</span></p> +<p class="s">I knew each little hawthorn-cloud</p> + <p class="i1">Along my misty lane,</p> +<p>Then my heart burst. She sobbed aloud,</p> + <p class="i1">Between my arms again.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page84"></a>84</span></p> +<h3>TO THE DESTROYERS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">YES. You have shattered many an ancient wrong,</p> + <p class="i1">And we were with you, heart and mind and soul,</p> + <p class="i1">But there are fools who cast away control</p> +<p>In life and thought and art; because the Strong—</p> +<p>We dare to say it—have now destroyed so long,</p> + <p class="i1">That careless minds forget the unchanging goal—</p> + <p class="i1">The nobler Order which shall make us whole,</p> +<p>The Service which is freedom, beauty, song.</p> + +<p class="s">We shall be stoned as traitors to your cause</p> + <p class="i1">While the real traitors that you did not know,</p> + <p class="i2">Chaos and Vice, trumpet themselves as free.</p> +<p>Pray God that, loyal to the Eternal laws,</p> + <p class="i1">A little remnant, mauled by friend and foe,</p> + <p class="i2">Save you through Truth, and bring you Liberty.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page85"></a>85</span></p> +<h3>THE TRUMPET-CALL</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<h5>I</h5> + +<p class="dropcap">TRUMPETER, sound the great recall!</p> + <p class="i2">Swift, O swift, for the squadrons break,</p> + <p class="i1">The long lines waver, mazed in the gloom!</p> + <p class="i2">Hither and thither the blind host blunders.</p> +<p>Stand thou firm for a dead Man’s sake,</p> + <p class="i1">Firm where the ranks reel down to their doom,</p> + <p class="i2">Stand thou firm in the midst of the thunders,</p> + <p class="i1">Stand where the steeds and the riders fall,</p> + <p class="i2">Set the bronze to thy lips and sound</p> + <p class="i2">A rally to ring the whole world round.</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us!</p> + <p class="i5">Sound the great recall.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page86"></a>86</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Trumpeter, sound for the ancient heights!</p> +<p>Clouds of the earth-born battle cloak</p> + <p class="i1">The heaven that our fathers held from of old;</p> + <p class="i2">And we—shall we prate to their sons of the gain</p> +<p>In gold or bread? Through yonder smoke</p> + <p class="i1">The heights that never were won with gold</p> + <p class="i2">Wait, still bright with their old red stain,</p> + <p class="i2">For the thousand chariots of God again,</p> + <p class="i1">And the steel that swept thro’ a hundred fights</p> + <p class="i2">With the Ironsides, equal to life and death,</p> + <p class="i2">The steel, the steel of their ancient faith.</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us!</p> + <p class="i5">Sound for the sun-lit heights.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Trumpeter, sound for the faith again!</p> +<p>Blind and deaf with the dust and the blood,</p> + <p class="i1">Clashing together we know not whither</p> + <p class="i2">The tides of the battle would have us advance.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page87"></a>87</span></p> +<p>Stand thou firm in the crimson flood,</p> + <p class="i1">Send the lightning of thy great cry</p> + <p class="i2">Through the thunders, athwart the storm,</p> + <p class="i1">Sound till the trumpets of God reply</p> + <p class="i1">From the heights we have lost in the steadfast sky,</p> + <p class="i1">From the Strength we despised and rejected. Then,</p> + <p class="i2">Locking the ranks as they form and form,</p> + <p class="i3">Lift us forward, banner and lance,</p> + <p class="i1">Mailed in the faith of Cromwell’s men,</p> + <p class="i3">When from their burning hearts they hurled</p> + <p class="i3">The gage of heaven against the world!</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us,</p> + <p class="i5">Up to the heights again.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Trumpeter, sound for the last Crusade!</p> +<p>Sound for the fire of the red-cross kings,</p> + <p class="i1">Sound for the passion, the splendour, the pity</p> + <p class="i2">That swept the world for a dead Man’s sake,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page88"></a>88</span></p> +<p>Sound, till the answering trumpet rings</p> + <p class="i1">Clear from the heights of the holy City,</p> + <p class="i2">Sound till the lions of England awake,</p> + <p class="i1">Sound for the tomb that our lives have betrayed;</p> + <p class="i2">O’er broken shrine and abandoned wall,</p> + <p class="i2">Trumpeter, sound the great recall,</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeter, rally us, rally us, rally us;</p> + <p class="i5">Sound for the last Crusade!</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + + <p class="i1 s">Trumpeter, sound for the splendour of God!</p> +<p>Sound the music whose name is law,</p> + <p class="i1">Whose service is perfect freedom still,</p> + <p class="i2">The order august that rules the stars.</p> +<p>Bid the anarchs of night withdraw,</p> + <p class="i1">Too long the destroyers have worked their will,</p> + <p class="i2">Sound for the last, the last of the wars.</p> +<p>Sound for the heights that our fathers trod,</p> + <p class="i2">When truth was truth and love was love,</p> + <p class="i2">With a hell beneath, but a heaven above,</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeter, rally us, up to the heights of it!</p> + <p class="i5">Sound for the City of God.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page89"></a>89</span></p> +<h3>THE HEART OF CANADA</h3> + +<p class="center noind"><i>July 1912</i></p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">BECAUSE her heart is all too proud</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Canada! Canada! fair young Canada</i>—</p> +<p>To breathe the might of her love aloud,</p> + <p class="i1">Be quick, O Motherland!</p> +<p>Because her soul is wholly free</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Canada kneels, thy daughter, Canada</i>—</p> +<p>England, look in her eyes and see,</p> + <p class="i1">Honour and understand.</p> + +<p class="s">Because her pride at thy masthead shines,</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Canada! Canada!</i>—queenly Canada</p> +<p>Bows with all her breathing pines,</p> + <p class="i1">All her fragrant firs.</p> +<p>Because our isle is little and old</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Canada! Canada!</i>—young-eyed Canada</p> +<p>Gives thee, Mother, her hands to hold,</p> + <p class="i1">And makes thy glory hers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page90"></a>90</span></p> +<p class="s">Because thy Fleet is hers for aye,</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Canada! Canada!</i>—clear-souled Canada,</p> +<p>Ere the war-cloud roll this way,</p> + <p class="i1">Bids the world beware.</p> +<p>Her heart, her soul, her sword are thine</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Thine the guns, the guns of Canada!</i>—</p> +<p>The ships are foaming into line,</p> + <p class="i1">And Canada will be there.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page91"></a>91</span></p> +<h3>THE RETURN OF THE HOME-BORN</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">ALL along the white chalk coast</p> + <p class="i1">The mist lifts clear.</p> +<p>Wight is glimmering like a ghost.</p> + <p class="i1">The ship draws near.</p> +<p>Little inch-wide meadows</p> + <p class="i1">Lost so many a day,</p> +<p>The first time I knew you</p> + <p class="i1">Was when I turned away.</p> + +<p class="s">Island—little island—</p> + <p class="i1">Lost so many a year,</p> +<p>Mother of all I leave behind</p> + <p class="i1">—<i>Draw me near!</i>—</p> +<p>Mother of half the rolling world,</p> + <p class="i1">And O, so little and gray,</p> +<p>The first time I found you</p> + <p class="i1">Was when I turned away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page92"></a>92</span></p> +<p class="s"><i>Over yon green water</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Sussex lies.</i></p> +<p><i>But the slow mists gather</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>In our eyes.</i></p> +<p><i>England, little island</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>—God, how dear!—</i></p> +<p><i>Fold me in your mighty arms,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Draw me near.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Little tawny roofs of home,</p> + <p class="i1">Nestling in the gray,</p> +<p>Where the smell of Sussex loam</p> + <p class="i1">Blows across the bay ...</p> +<p>Fold me, teach me, draw me close,</p> + <p class="i1">Lest in death I say</p> +<p>The first time I loved you</p> + <p class="i1">Was when I turned away.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page93"></a>93</span></p> +<h3>A SALUTE FROM THE FLEET</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<h5>I</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Royal Sovereign</i></p> + +<p class="dropcap s">OCEAN-MOTHER of England, thine is the crowning acclaim.</p> + <p class="i1">Here, in the morning of battle, from over the world and beyond,</p> + <p class="i2">Here, by our fleets of steel, silently foam into line</p> +<p>Fleets of our glorious dead, thy shadowy oak-walled ships.</p> +<p>Mother, for O, thy soul must speak thro’ our iron lips!</p> + <p class="i2">How should we speak to the ages, unless with a word of thine?</p> + <p class="i1">Utter it, Victory! Let thy great signal flash thro’ the flame!</p> + <p class="i2">Answer, <i>Bellerophon</i>, <i>Marlborough</i>, <i>Thunderer</i>, <i>Condor</i>, respond!</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page94"></a>94</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Majestic</i></p> + +<p class="s">Out of the ages we speak unto you, O ye ages to be.</p> + <p class="i1">Rocks of Sevastopol, echo our thunder-word, bruit it afar.</p> + <p class="i2">Roll it, O Mediterranean, round by Gibraltar again.</p> +<p>Buffet it, Porto Bello, back to the Nile once more.</p> +<p>Answer it, great St. Vincent! Answer it, Elsinore,</p> + <p class="i2">Buffet it back from your crags and roll it over the main!</p> + <p class="i1">Heights of Quebec, O hear and re-echo it back to the Baltic Sea!</p> + <p class="i2">Answer it, <i>Camperdown</i>! Answer it, answer it, <i>Trafalgar</i>!</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page95"></a>95</span></p> +<h5>III</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Rainbow</i></p> + +<p class="s">How should we speak to the ages, if not with a word of thine,</p> + <p class="i1">Maker of cloud and harvest, foam and the sea-bird’s wing,</p> + <p class="i2">Ocean-Mother of England and all things living and free?</p> +<p>Deep that wast moved by the Spirit to bloom with the first white morn,</p> +<p>Mother of Light and Freedom, mother of hopes unborn,</p> + <p class="i2">Speak, O world-wide welder of nations, O Soul of the sea!</p> + <p class="i1">Thine was the watchword that called us of old o’er the gray sky-line:</p> + <p class="i2">Lift thy stormy salute. It is freedom and peace that we bring.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page96"></a>96</span></p> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Victory</i></p> + +<p class="s">Therefore on thee we call, O Mother, for we are thy sons.</p> + <p class="i1">Speak, with thy world-wide voice, O wake us anew from our sleep!</p> + <p class="i2">Speak, for the Light of the world still lives and grows on thy face.</p> +<p>Give us the ancient Word once more, the unchangeable Word,—</p> +<p>This that Nelson knew, this that Effingham heard,</p> + <p class="i2">This that resounds for ever in all the hearts of our race,</p> + <p class="i1">This that lives for a moment on the iron lips of our guns,</p> + <p class="i2">This—that echoes for ever and ever—the Word of the Deep.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page97"></a>97</span></p> +<h5>V</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Dreadnought</i></p> + +<p class="s">How shall a king be saved by the multitude of an host?</p> + <p class="i1">Was not the answer thine, when fleet upon fleet swept, hurled</p> + <p class="i2">Blind thro’ the dark North Sea, with all their invincible ships?</p> +<p>Thine was the answer, O mother of all men born to be free!</p> +<p>Witness again, Cape Wrath!—O thine, everlastingly,</p> + <p class="i2">Thine as Freedom arose and rolled thy song from her lips,</p> + <p class="i1">Thine when she ’stablished her throne in thy sight, on our rough rock-coast,</p> + <p class="i2">Thine with thy lustral glory and thunder, washing the world.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page98"></a>98</span></p> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Temeraire</i></p> + +<p class="s">O for that ancient cry of the watch at the midnight bell,</p> + <p class="i1">Under the unknown stars, from the decks that Frobisher trod.</p> + <p class="i2">Hark, <i>Before the world?</i>—he questions a fleet in the dark!</p> +<p>Answer it, friend or foe! And, ringing from mast to mast,</p> +<p>Mother, hast thou forgotten what cry in the dark went past,</p> + <p class="i2">Answering still as he questioned? <i>Before the world?</i> O, hark,</p> + <p class="i1">Ringing anear, <i>Before the world?</i> ... <i>was God</i> ... All’s well!</p> + <p class="i2">Dying afar ... <i>Before the world?</i> ... All’s well ... <i>was God</i>!</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page99"></a>99</span></p> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Revenge</i></p> + +<p class="s">Raleigh and Grenville heard it, Knights of the Ocean-sea.</p> + <p class="i1">Have we forgotten it only, we with our leagues of steel?</p> + <p class="i2">Give us our watchword again, O mother, in this great hour!</p> +<p>Here, in the morning of battle, here as we gather our might,</p> +<p>Here, as the nations of earth in the light of thy freedom unite,</p> + <p class="i2">Shake our hearts with thy Word, O ’stablish our peace on thy power!</p> + <p class="i1">’Stablish our power on thy peace, thy glory, thy liberty,</p> + <p class="i2">’Stablish on thy deep Word the throne of our Commonweal.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page100"></a>100</span></p> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Leviathan</i></p> + +<p class="s">They that go down to the sea in ships—they heard it of old—</p> + <p class="i1">They shall behold His wonders, alone on the Deep, the Deep!</p> + <p class="i2">Have <i>we</i> forgotten, we only? O, rend the heavens again,</p> +<p>Voice of the Everlasting, shake the great hills with thy breath!</p> +<p>Roll the Voice of our God thro’ the valleys of doubt and death!</p> + <p class="i2">Waken the fog-bound cities with the shout of the wind-swept main,</p> + <p class="i1">Inland over the smouldering plains, till the mists unfold,</p> + <p class="i2">Darkness die, and England, England arise from sleep.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page101"></a>101</span></p> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of H.M.S. Triumph</i></p> + +<p class="s">Queen of the North and the South, Queen of our ocean-renown,</p> + <p class="i1">England, England, England, O lift thine eyes to the sun!</p> + <p class="i2">Wake, for the hope of the whole world yearns to thee, watches and waits!</p> +<p>Now on the full flood-tide of the ages, the supreme hour</p> +<p>Beacons thee onward in might to the purpose and crown of thy power.</p> + <p class="i2">Hark, for the whole Atlantic thunders against thy gates,</p> + <p class="i1">Take the Crown of all Time, all might, earth’s crowning Crown,</p> + <p class="i2">Throne thy children in peace and in freedom together, O weld them in one.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page102"></a>102</span></p> +<h5>X</h5> + +<p class="center"><i>The Guns of the Fleet</i></p> + +<p class="s"><i>Throne them in triumph together. Thine is the crowning cry!</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Thine the glory for ever in the nation born of thy womb!</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Thine the Sword and the Shield, and the shout that Salamis heard,</i></p> +<p><i>Surging in Æschylean splendour, earth-shaking acclaim!</i></p> +<p><i>Ocean-mother of England, thine is the throne of her fame.</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Breaker of many fleets, O thine the victorious word,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Thine the Sun and the Freedom, the God and the wind-swept sky,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Thine the thunder and thine the lightning, thine the doom.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page103"></a>103</span></p> +<h3>IN MEMORY OF A BRITISH AVIATOR</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">ON those young brows that knew no fear</p> + <p class="i1">We lay the Roman athlete’s crown,</p> +<p>The laurel of the charioteer,</p> + <p class="i1">The imperial garland of renown,</p> +<p>While those young eyes, beyond the sun,</p> +<p>See Drake, see Raleigh, smile “Well done.”</p> + +<p class="s">Their desert seas that knew no shore</p> + <p class="i1">To-night with fleets like cities flare;</p> +<p>But, frailer even than theirs of yore,</p> + <p class="i1">His keel a new-found deep would dare:</p> +<p>They watch, with thrice-experienced eyes</p> +<p>What fleets shall follow through the skies.</p> + +<p class="s">They would not scoff, though man should set</p> + <p class="i1">To feebler wings a mightier task.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page104"></a>104</span></p> +<p>They know what wonders wait us yet.</p> + <p class="i1">Not all things in an hour they ask;</p> +<p>But in each noble failure see</p> +<p>The inevitable victory.</p> + +<p class="s">A thousand years have borne us far</p> + <p class="i1">From that dark isle the Saxon swayed,</p> +<p>And star whispers to trembling star</p> + <p class="i1">While Space and Time shrink back afraid,—</p> +<p>“Ten thousand thousand years remain</p> +<p>For man to dare our deep again.”</p> + +<p class="s">Thou, too, shalt hear across that deep</p> + <p class="i1">Our thundering fleets of thought draw nigh,</p> +<p>Round which the suns and systems sweep</p> + <p class="i1">Like cloven foam from sky to sky,</p> +<p>Till Death himself at last restore</p> +<p>His captives to our eyes once more.</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 1.7em; font-size: 150%;"> .......</p> + +<p class="s">Feeble the wings, dauntless the soul!</p> + <p class="i1">Take thou the conqueror’s laurel crown;</p> +<p>Take—for thy chariot grazed the goal—</p> + <p class="i1">The imperial garland of renown;</p> +<p>While those young eyes, beyond the sun,</p> +<p>See Drake, see Raleigh, smile “Well done.”</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page105"></a>105</span></p> +<h3>THE WAGGON</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">CRIMSON and black on the sky, a waggon of clover</p> + <p class="i1">Slowly goes rumbling, over the white chalk road;</p> +<p>And I lie in the golden grass there, wondering why</p> + <p class="i4">So little a thing</p> + <p class="i2">As the jingle and ring of the harness,</p> + <p class="i4">The hot creak of leather,</p> + <p class="i4">The peace of the plodding,</p> + <p class="i2">Should suddenly, stabbingly, make it</p> + <p class="i4">Strange that men die.</p> + +<p class="s">Only, perhaps, in the same blue summer weather,</p> + <p class="i1">Hundreds of years ago, in this field where I lie,</p> +<p>Cædmon, the Saxon, was caught by the self-same thing:</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page106"></a>106</span></p> + <p class="i1">The serf lying, black with the sun, on his beautiful wain-load,</p> + <p class="i4">The jingle and clink of the harness,</p> + <p class="i4">The hot creak of leather,</p> + <p class="i4">The peace of the plodding;</p> + <p class="i1">And wondered, O terribly wondered,</p> + <p class="i4">That men must die.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page107"></a>107</span></p> +<h3>THE SACRED OAK</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>A Song of Britain</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<h5>I</h5> + +<p class="dropcap">VOICE of the summer stars that, long ago,</p> + <p class="i1">Sang thro’ the old oak-forests of our isle,</p> +<p>Enchanted voice, pure as her falling snow,</p> + <p class="i1">Dark as her storms, bright as her sunniest smile,</p> +<p>Taliessin, voice of Britain, the fierce flow</p> + <p class="i1">Of fourteen hundred years has whelmed not thee!</p> + <p class="i2">Still art thou singing, lavrock of her morn,</p> +<p>Singing to heaven in that first golden glow,</p> + <p class="i1">Singing above her mountains and her sea!</p> + <p class="i5">Not older yet are grown</p> + <p class="i5">Thy four winds in their moan</p> + <p class="i2">For Urien. Still thy charlock blooms in the billowing corn.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page108"></a>108</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<p class="s">Thy dew is bright upon this beechen spray!</p> + <p class="i1">Spring wakes thy harp! I hear—I see—again,</p> +<p>Thy wild steeds foaming thro’ the crimson fray,</p> + <p class="i1">The raven on the white breast of thy slain,</p> +<p>The tumult of thy chariots, far away,</p> + <p class="i1">The weeping in the glens, the lustrous hair</p> + <p class="i2">Dishevelled over the stricken eagle’s fall,</p> +<p>And in thy Druid groves, at fall of day</p> + <p class="i1">One gift that Britain gave her valorous there,</p> + <p class="i5">One gift of lordlier pride</p> + <p class="i5">Than aught—save to have died—</p> + <p class="i2">One spray of the sacred oak, they coveted most of all.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<p class="s">I watch thy nested brambles growing green:</p> + <p class="i1">O strange, across that misty waste of years,</p> +<p>To glimpse the shadowy thrush that thou hast seen,</p> + <p class="i1">To touch, across the ages, touch with tears</p> +<p>The ferns that hide thee with their fairy screen,</p> + <p class="i1">Or only hear them rustling in the dawn;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page109"></a>109</span></p> + <p class="i2">And—as a dreamer waking—in thy words,</p> +<p>For all the golden clouds that drowse between,</p> + <p class="i1">To feel the veil of centuries withdrawn,</p> + <p class="i5">To feel thy sun re-risen</p> + <p class="i5">Unbuild our shadowy prison</p> + <p class="i2">And hear on thy fresh boughs the carol of waking birds.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + +<p class="s">O, happy voice, born in that far, clear time,</p> + <p class="i1">Over thy single harp thy simple strain</p> +<p>Attuned all life for Britain to the chime</p> + <p class="i1">Of viking oars and the sea’s dark refrain,</p> +<p>And thine own beating heart, and the sublime</p> + <p class="i1">Measure to which the moons and stars revolve</p> + <p class="i2">Untroubled by the storms that, year by year,</p> +<p>In ever-swelling symphonies still climb</p> + <p class="i1">To embrace our growing world and to resolve</p> + <p class="i5">Discords unknown to thee,</p> + <p class="i5">In the infinite harmony</p> + <p class="i2">Which still transcends our strife and leaves us darkling here.</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 1.7em; font-size: 150%;"> .......</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page110"></a>110</span></p> +<h5>V</h5> + +<p class="s">For, now, one sings of heaven and one of hell,</p> + <p class="i1">One soars with hope, one plunges to despair!</p> +<p>This, trembling, doubts if aught be ill or well;</p> + <p class="i1">And that cries, “Fair is foul and foul is fair;”</p> +<p>And this cries, “Forward, though I cannot tell</p> + <p class="i1">Whither, and all too surely all things die;”</p> + <p class="i2">And that sighs, “Rest, then, sleep and take thine ease.”</p> +<p>One sings his country and one rings its knell,</p> + <p class="i1">One hymns mankind, one dwarfs them with the sky.</p> + <p class="i5">O, Britain, let thy soul</p> + <p class="i5">Once more command the whole,</p> + <p class="i2">Once more command the strings of the world-wide harmony.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>VI</h5> + +<p class="s">For hark! One sings, <i>The gods, the gods are dead!</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Man triumphs!</i> And hark—<i>Blind Space his funeral urn.</i></p> +<p>And hark, one whispers with reverted head</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page111"></a>111</span></p> + <p class="i1">To the old dead gods—<i>Bring back our heaven, return!</i></p> +<p>And hark, one moans—<i>The ancient order is fled,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>We are children of blind chance and vacant dreams.</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Heed not mine utterance—that was chance-born, too.</i></p> +<p>And hark, the answer of Science—<i>All they said,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Your fathers, in that old time, lit by gleams</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Of what their hearts could feel,</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>The rolling years reveal</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>As fragments of one law, one covenant, simply true.</i></p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>VII</h5> + +<p class="s"><i>I find,</i> she cries, <i>in all this march of time</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>And space, no gulf, no break, nothing that mars</i></p> +<p><i>Its unity. I watch the primal slime</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Lift Athens like a flower to greet the stars!</i></p> +<p><i>I flash my messages from clime to clime,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>I link the increasing world from depth to height!</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Not yet ye see the wonder that draws nigh,</i></p> +<p><i>When at some sudden contact, some sublime</i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page112"></a>112</span></p> +<p><i>Touch, as of memory, all this boundless night</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Wherein ye grope entombed</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>Shall, by that touch illumed,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Like one electric City shine from sky to sky.</i></p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>VIII</h5> + +<p class="s"><i>No longer then the memories that ye hold</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Dark in your brain shall slumber. Ye shall see</i></p> +<p><i>That City whose gates are more than pearl or gold</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>And all its towers firm as Eternity.</i></p> +<p><i>The stones of the earth have cried to it from of old!</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Why will ye turn from Him who reigns above</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Because your highest words fall short?</i></p> + <p class="i4"><i>Kneel—call</i></p> +<p><i>On Him whose Name—I AM—doth still enfold</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Past, present, future, memory, hope and love.</i></p> + <p class="i5"><i>No seed falls fruitless there.</i></p> + <p class="i5">Beyond your Father’s care—</p> + <p class="i2"><i>The old covenant still holds fast</i>—no bird, no leaf can fall.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page113"></a>113</span></p> +<h5>IX</h5> + +<p class="s">O Time, thou mask of the ever-living Soul,</p> + <p class="i1">Thou veil to shield us from that blinding Face,</p> +<p>Thou art wearing thin! We are nearer to the goal</p> + <p class="i1">When man no more shall need thy saving grace,</p> +<p>But all the folded years like one great scroll</p> + <p class="i1">Shall be unrolled in the omnipresent Now,</p> + <p class="i2">And He that saith <i>I am</i> unseal the tomb:</p> +<p>Nearer His thunders and His trumpets roll,</p> + <p class="i1">I catch the gleam that lit thy lifted brow,</p> + <p class="i5">O singer whose wild eyes</p> + <p class="i5">Possess these April skies,</p> + <p class="i2">I touch—I clasp thy hands thro’ all the clouds of doom.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>X</h5> + +<p class="s">Teach thou our living choirs amid the sound</p> + <p class="i1">Of their tempestuous chords once more to hear</p> +<p>That harmony wherewith the whole is crowned,</p> + <p class="i1">The singing heavens that sphere by choral sphere</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page114"></a>114</span></p> +<p>Break open, height o’er height, to the utmost bound</p> + <p class="i1">Of passionate thought! O, as this glorious land,</p> + <p class="i2">This sacred country shining on the sea,</p> +<p>Grows mightier, let not her clear voice be drowned</p> + <p class="i1">In the fierce waves of faction. Let her stand</p> + <p class="i5">A beacon to the blind,</p> + <p class="i5">A signal to mankind,</p> + <p class="i2">A witness to the heavens’ profoundest unity.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XI</h5> + +<p class="s">Her altars are forgotten and her creeds</p> + <p class="i1">Dust, and her soul foregoes the lesser Cross.</p> +<p>O, point her to the greater! Her heart bleeds</p> + <p class="i1"> Still, where men simply feel some vague deep loss.</p> +<p>Their hands grope earthward, knowing not what she needs.</p> + <p class="i1">We would not call her back in this great hour!</p> + <p class="i2">Nay, upward, onward, to the heights untrod</p> +<p>Signal us, living voices, by those deeds</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page115"></a>115</span></p> + <p class="i1">Of all her deathless heroes, by the Power</p> + <p class="i5">That still, still walks her waves,</p> + <p class="i5">Still chastens her, still saves,</p> + <p class="i2">Signal us, not to the dead, but to the living God.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XII</h5> + +<p class="s">Signal us with that watchword of the deep,</p> + <p class="i1">The watchword that her boldest seamen gave</p> +<p>The winds of the unknown ocean-sea to keep,</p> + <p class="i1">When round their oaken walls the midnight wave</p> +<p>Heaved and subsided in gigantic sleep,</p> + <p class="i1">And they plunged Westward with her flag unfurled.</p> + <p class="i2">Hark, o’er their cloudy sails and glimmering spars,</p> +<p>The watch cries, as they proudly onward sweep,—</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Before the world ... All’s well!... Before the world</i> ...</p> + <p class="i5">From mast to calling mast</p> + <p class="i5">The counter-cry goes past—</p> + <p class="i2"><i>Before the world was God!</i>—it rings against the stars.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page116"></a>116</span></p> +<h5>XIII</h5> + +<p class="s">Signal us o’er the little heavens of gold</p> + <p class="i1">With that heroic signal Nelson knew</p> +<p>When, thro’ the thunder and flame that round him rolled,</p> + <p class="i1">He pointed to the dream that still held true.</p> +<p>Cry o’er the warring nations, cry as of old</p> + <p class="i1"><i>A little child shall lead them! they shall be</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>One people under the shadow of God’s wing!</i></p> +<p><i>There shall be no more weeping!</i> Let it be told</p> + <p class="i1">That Britain set one foot upon the sea,</p> + <p class="i5">One foot on the earth. Her eyes</p> + <p class="i5">Burned thro’ the conquered skies,</p> + <p class="i2">And, as the angel of God, she bade the whole world sing.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XIV</h5> + +<p class="s">A dream? Nay, have ye heard or have ye known</p> + <p class="i1">That the everlasting God who made the ends</p> +<p>Of all creation wearieth? His worlds groan</p> + <p class="i1">Together in travail still. Still He descends</p> +<p>From heaven. The increasing worlds are still His throne</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page117"></a>117</span></p> + <p class="i1">And His creative Calvary and His tomb</p> + <p class="i2">Through which He sinks, dies, triumphs with each and all,</p> +<p>And ascends, multitudinous and at one</p> + <p class="i1">With all the hosts of His evolving doom,</p> + <p class="i5">His vast redeeming strife,</p> + <p class="i5">His everlasting life,</p> + <p class="i2">His love, beyond which not one bird, one leaf can fall.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XV</h5> + +<p class="s">And hark, His whispers thro’ creation flow,</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Lovest thou me?</i> His nations answer “yea!”</p> +<p>And—<i>Feed My lambs</i>, His voice as long ago</p> + <p class="i1">Steals from that highest heaven, how far away!</p> +<p>And yet again saith—<i>Lovest thou Me?</i> and “O,</p> + <p class="i1">Thou knowest we love Thee,” passionately we cry:</p> + <p class="i1">But, heeding not our tumult, out of the deep</p> +<p>The great grave whisper, pitiful and low,</p> + <p class="i1">Breathes—<i>Feed My sheep</i>; and yet once more the sky</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page118"></a>118</span></p> + <p class="i5">Thrills with that deep strange plea,</p> + <p class="i5"><i>Lovest thou, lovest thou Me?</i></p> + <p class="i2">And our lips answer “yea”; but our God—<i>Feed My sheep.</i></p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XVI</h5> + +<p class="s">O sink not yet beneath the exceeding weight</p> + <p class="i1">Of splendour, thou still single-hearted voice</p> +<p>Of Britain. Droop not earthward now to freight</p> + <p class="i1">Thy soul with fragments of the song, rejoice</p> +<p>In no faint flights of music that create</p> + <p class="i1">Low heavens o’er-arched by skies without a star,</p> + <p class="i2">Nor sink in the easier gulfs of shallower pain!</p> +<p>Sing thou in the whole majesty of thy fate,</p> + <p class="i1">Teach us thro’ joy, thro’ grief, thro’ peace, thro’ war,</p> + <p class="i5">With single heart and soul</p> + <p class="i5">Still, still to seek the goal,</p> + <p class="i2">And thro’ our perishing heavens, point us to Heaven again.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>XVII</h5> + +<p class="s">Voice of the summer stars that long ago</p> + <p class="i1">Sang thro’ the old oak-forests of our isle,</p> +<p>An ocean-music that thou ne’er couldst know</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page119"></a>119</span></p> + <p class="i1">Storms Heaven—O, keep us steadfast all the while;</p> +<p>Not idly swayed by tides that ebb and flow,</p> + <p class="i1">But strong to embrace the whole vast symphony</p> + <p class="i2">Wherein no note (no bird, no leaf) can fall</p> +<p>Beyond His care, to enfold it all as though</p> + <p class="i1">Thy single harp were ours, its unity</p> + <p class="i5">In battle like one sword,</p> + <p class="i5">And O, its one reward</p> + <p class="i2">One spray of the sacred oak, still coveted most of all.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page120"></a>120</span></p> +<h3>THE WORLD’S WEDDING</h3> + +<div class="quote"> +<p>“Et quid curae nobis de generibus et speciebus? Ex uno +Verbo omnia, et unum loquuntur omnia. Cui omnia unum +sunt, quique ad unum omnia trahit et omnia in uno videt, +potest stabilis corde esse.”—<span class="sc">Thomas à Kempis.</span></p> +</div> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>I</h5> + + <p class="i2 dropcap">WHEN poppies fired the nut-brown wheat,</p> + <p class="i2">My love went by with sun-stained feet:</p> +<p>I followed her laughter, followed her, followed her, all a summer’s morn!</p> + <p class="i2">But O, from an elfin palace of air,</p> + <p class="i2">A wild bird sang a song so rare,</p> + <p class="i2">I stayed to listen and—lost my Fair,</p> + <p class="i3">And walked the world forlorn.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>II</h5> + + <p class="i2 s">When chalk shone white between the sheaves,</p> + <p class="i2">My love went by as one that grieves;</p> +<p>I followed her weeping, followed her, followed her, all an autumn noon!</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page121"></a>121</span></p> + <p class="i2">The sunset flamed so fierce a red</p> + <p class="i2">From North to South—I turned my head</p> + <p class="i2">To wonder—and my Fair was fled</p> + <p class="i3">Beyond the dawning moon.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + + <p class="i2 s">When bare black boughs were choked with snow,</p> + <p class="i2">My love went by, as long ago;</p> +<p>I followed her dreaming, followed her, followed her, all a winter’s night!</p> + <p class="i2">But O, along that snow-white track</p> + <p class="i2">With thorny shadows printed black,</p> + <p class="i2">I saw three kings come riding back,</p> + <p class="i3">And—lost my life’s delight.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>IV</h5> + + <p class="i2 s">They are so many, and she but One;</p> + <p class="i2">And I and she, like moon and sun</p> +<p>So separate ever! Ah yet, I follow her, follow her, faint and far;</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page122"></a>122</span></p> + <p class="i2">For what if all this diverse bliss</p> + <p class="i2">Should run together in one kiss!</p> + <p class="i2">Swift, Spring, with the sweet clue I miss</p> + <p class="i2">Between these several instances,—</p> + <p class="i3">The kings, that inn, that star.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>V</h5> + + <p class="i2 s">Between the hawk’s and the wood-dove’s wing,</p> + <p class="i2">My love, my love flashed by like Spring!</p> + <p class="i2">The year had finished its golden ring!</p> + <p class="i2">Earth, the Gipsy, and Heaven, the King,</p> + <p class="i2">Were married like notes in the song I sing,</p> +<p>And O, I followed her, followed her, followed her over the hills of Time,</p> + <p class="i2">Never to lose her now I know,</p> + <p class="i2">For whom the sun was clasped in snow,</p> + <p class="i2">The heights linked to the depths below,</p> + <p class="i2">The rose’s flush to the planet’s glow,</p> + <p class="i2">Death the friend to life the foe,</p> + <p class="i2">The Winter’s joy to the Spring’s woe,</p> + <p class="i3">And the world made one in a rhyme.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page123"></a>123</span></p> +<h3>IN MEMORIAM: SAMUEL COLERIDGE-TAYLOR</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">F<i>AREWELL!</i> The soft mists of the sunset-sky</p> + <p class="i1">Slowly enfold his fading birch-canoe!</p> +<p><i>Farewell!</i> His dark, his desolate forests cry,</p> + <p class="i1">Moved to their vast, their sorrowful depths anew.</p> + +<p class="s">Fading! Nay, lifted thro’ a heaven of light,</p> + <p class="i1">His proud sails brightening thro’ that crimson flame,</p> +<p>Leaving us lonely on the shores of night,</p> + <p class="i1">Home to Ponemah take his deathless fame.</p> + +<p class="s">Generous as a child, so wholly free</p> + <p class="i1">From all base pride that fools forgot his crown,</p> +<p>He adored Beauty, in pure ecstasy,</p> + <p class="i1">And waived the mere rewards of his renown.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page124"></a>124</span></p> +<p class="s">The spark that falls from heaven not oft on earth</p> + <p class="i1">To human hearts this vital splendour gives;</p> +<p>His was the simple, true, immortal birth.</p> + <p class="i1">Scholars compose; but—<i>this man’s music lives</i>!</p> + +<p class="s">Greater than England or than Earth discerned,</p> + <p class="i1">He never paltered with his art for gain:</p> +<p>When many a vaunted crown to dust is turned,</p> + <p class="i1">This uncrowned king shall take his throne and reign.</p> + +<p class="s">Nations unborn shall hear his forests moan;</p> + <p class="i1">Ages unscanned shall hear his winds lament,</p> +<p>Hear the strange grief that deepened through his own</p> + <p class="i1">The vast cry of a buried continent.</p> + +<p class="s">Through him, his race a moment lifted up</p> + <p class="i1">Forests of hands to Beauty as in prayer;</p> +<p>Touched through his lips the sacramental Cup,</p> + <p class="i1">And then sank back—benumbed in our bleak air.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page125"></a>125</span></p> +<p class="s">Through him, through him, a lost world hailed the light!</p> + <p class="i1">The tragedy of that triumph none can tell,—</p> +<p>So great, so brief, so quickly snatched from sight;</p> + <p class="i1">And yet—O hail, great comrade, not farewell!</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page126"></a>126</span></p> +<h3>INSCRIPTION</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>For the Grave of Coleridge-Taylor</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">SLEEP, crowned with fame; fearless of change or time.</p> + <p class="i1">Sleep, like remembered music in the soul,</p> +<p>Silent, immortal; while our discords climb</p> + <p class="i1">To that great chord which shall resolve the whole.</p> + +<p class="s">Silent with Mozart on that solemn shore;</p> + <p class="i1">Secure where neither waves nor hearts can break;</p> +<p>Sleep—till the Master of the World, once more,</p> + <p class="i1">Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake....</p> + +<p class="s">Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page127"></a>127</span></p> +<h3>VALUES</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THE moon that sways the rhythmic seas,</p> + <p class="i1">The wheeling earth, the marching sky,—</p> + <p class="i2">I ask not whence the order came</p> + <p class="i3">That moves them all as one.</p> + +<p class="s">These are your chariots. Nor shall these</p> + <p class="i1">Appal me with immensity;</p> + <p class="i2">I know they carry one heart of flame</p> + <p class="i3">More precious than the sun.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page128"></a>128</span></p> +<h3>THE HEROIC DEAD</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>On the loss of the Titanic</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">IF in the noon they doubted, in the night</p> + <p class="i1">They never swerved. Death had no power to appal.</p> +<p>There was one Way, one Truth, one Life, one Light,</p> + <p class="i1">One Love that shone triumphant over all.</p> + +<p class="s">If in the noon they doubted, at the last</p> + <p class="i1">There was no Way to part, no Way but One</p> +<p>That rolled the waves of Nature back and cast</p> + <p class="i1">In ancient days a shadow across the sun.</p> + +<p class="s">If in the noon they doubted, their last breath</p> + <p class="i1">Saluted once again the eternal goal,</p> +<p>Chanted a love-song in the face of Death</p> + <p class="i1">And rent the veil of darkness from the soul.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page129"></a>129</span></p> +<p class="s">If in the noon they doubted, in the night</p> + <p class="i1">They waved the shadowy world of strife aside,</p> +<p>Flooded high heaven with an immortal light,</p> + <p class="i1">And taught the deep how its Creator died.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page130"></a>130</span></p> +<h3>THE CRY IN THE NIGHT</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">IT tears at the heart in the night, that moan of the wind,</p> + <p class="i4">That desolate moan.</p> +<p>It is worse than the cry of a child. I can hardly bear</p> + <p class="i4">To hear it, alone.</p> + +<p class="s">It is worse than the sobbing of love, when love is estranged:</p> + <p class="i4">For this is a cry</p> +<p>Out of the desolate ages. It never has changed.</p> + <p class="i4">It never can die.</p> + +<p class="s">A cry over numberless graves, dark, helpless and blind,</p> + <p class="i4">From the measureless past,</p> +<p>To the measureless future, a sobbing before the first laughter,</p> + <p class="i4">And after the last!</p> + +<p class="center" style="letter-spacing: 1.7em; font-size: 150%;"> .......</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page131"></a>131</span></p> +<p class="s">From the height of creation, in passion eternal, the Word</p> + <p class="i4">Rushes forth, the loud cry,</p> +<p><i>Forsaken! Forsaken!</i> It cuts through the night like a sword!</p> + <p class="i4">Shall it win no reply?</p> + +<p class="s">Not of earth is that height of all sorrow, past time, out of space,</p> + <p class="i4">Therefore here, here and now,</p> +<p>Universal, a Calvary, crowned with Thy passionate face,</p> + <p class="i4">Thy thorn-wounded brow.</p> + +<p class="s">Ah, could I shrink if Thy heart for each heart upon earth</p> + <p class="i4">Must break like a sea?</p> +<p>Could I hear, could I bear it at all, if I were not a part</p> + <p class="i4">Of this labour in Thee?</p> + +<p class="s">Shall I accuse Thee, then? God, I account it my own</p> + <p class="i4">All the grief I can bear,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page132"></a>132</span></p> +<p>On Thy Cross of Creation, to balance earth’s bliss and atone,</p> + <p class="i4">Atone for life there.</p> + +<p class="s">If this be the One Way for ever, which not Thine all-might</p> + <p class="i4">Could change, if it would,</p> +<p>Till the truth be untrue, till the dark be the same as the light,</p> + <p class="i4">And till evil be good,</p> + +<p class="s">Shall I who took part in Thine April, shrink now from my part</p> + <p class="i4">In Thine anguish to be?</p> +<p>If Thy goal be the One goal of all, shall not even man’s heart</p> + <p class="i4">Endure this, with Thee;</p> + +<p class="s">Die with Thee, balancing life, or help Thee to pay</p> + <p class="i4">For our hope with our pain?...</p> +<p><i>O, the voice of the wind in the night! Is it day, then, broad day,</i></p> + <p class="i4"><i>On the blind earth again?</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page133"></a>133</span></p> +<h3>ASTRID</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>An Experiment in Initial Rhymes</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">WHITE-armed Astrid,—ah, but she was beautiful!—</p> +<p>Nightly wandered weeping thro’ the ferns in the moon,</p> +<p>Slowly, weaving her strange garland in the forest,</p> +<p>Crowned with white violets,</p> +<p>Gowned in green.</p> +<p>Holy was that glen where she glided,</p> +<p>Making her wild garland as Merlin had bidden her,</p> +<p>Breaking off the milk-white horns of the honey-suckle,</p> +<p>Sweetly dripped the dew upon her small white</p> +<p>Feet.</p> + +<p class="s">White-throated Astrid,—ah, but she was beautiful!—</p> +<p>Nightly sought the answer to that riddle in the moon.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page134"></a>134</span></p> +<p>She must weave her garland, ere she save her soul.</p> +<p>Three long years she has wandered there in vain.</p> +<p>Always, always, the blossom that would finish it</p> +<p>Falls to her feet, and the garland breaks and vanishes,</p> +<p>Breaks like a dream in the dawn when the dreamer</p> +<p>Wakes.</p> + +<p class="s">White-bosomed Astrid,—ah, but she was beautiful!—</p> +<p>Nightly tastes the sorrow of the world in the moon.</p> +<p>Will it be this little white miracle, she wonders.</p> +<p>How shall she know it, the star that will save her?</p> +<p>Still, ah still, in the moonlight she crouches</p> +<p>Bowing her head, for the garland has crumbled!</p> +<p>All the wild petals for the thousand and second time</p> +<p>Fall.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page135"></a>135</span></p> +<p class="s">White-footed Astrid,—ah, but she is beautiful!—</p> +<p>Nightly seeks the secret of the world in the moon.</p> +<p>She will find the secret. She will find the golden</p> +<p>Key to the riddle, on the night when she has numbered them,</p> +<p>Marshalled all her wild flowers, ordered them as music,</p> +<p>Star by star, note by note, changing them and ranging them,</p> +<p>Suddenly, as at a kiss, all will flash together,</p> +<p>Flooding like the dawn thro’ the arches of the woodland,</p> +<p>Fern and thyme and violet, maiden-hair and primrose</p> +<p>Turn to the Rose of the World, and He shall fold her,</p> +<p>Kiss her on the mouth, saying, all the world is one now,</p> +<p>This is the secret of the music that the soul hears,—</p> +<p>This.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page136"></a>136</span></p> +<h3>THE INIMITABLE LOVERS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THEY tell this proud tale of the Queen—Cleopatra,</p> + <p class="i1">Subtlest of women that the world has ever seen,</p> +<p>How that, on the night when she parted with her lover</p> + <p class="i1">Anthony, tearless, dry-throated, and sick-hearted,</p> +<p>A strange thing befell them in the darkness where they stood.</p> + + <p class="i1 s">Bitter as blood was that darkness.</p> +<p>And they stood in a deep window, looking to the west.</p> + <p class="i1">Her white breast was brighter than the moon upon the sea,</p> +<p>And it moved in her agony (because it was the end!)</p> + <p class="i1">Like a deep sea, where many had been drowned.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page137"></a>137</span></p> +<p>Proud ships that were crowned with an Emperor’s eagles</p> + <p class="i1">Were sunken there forgotten, with their emeralds and gold.</p> +<p>They had drunken of that glory, and their tale was told, utterly,</p> + <p class="i1">Told.</p> + +<p class="s">There, as they parted, heart from heart, mouth from mouth,</p> + <p class="i1">They stared upon each other. They listened.</p> + <p class="i2">For the South-wind</p> +<p>Brought them a rumour from afar; and she said,</p> + <p class="i1">Lifting her head, too beautiful for anguish,</p> + <p class="i5">Too proud for pity,—</p> +<p><i>It is the gods that leave the City! O, Anthony,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Anthony, the gods have forsaken us;</i></p> +<p><i>Because it is the end! They leave us to our doom.</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Hear it!</i> And unshaken in the darkness,</p> +<p>Dull as dropping earth upon a tomb in the distance,</p> + <p class="i1">They heard, as when across a wood a low wind comes,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page138"></a>138</span></p> +<p>A muttering of drums, drawing nearer,</p> + <p class="i1">Then louder and clearer, as when a trumpet sings</p> +<p>To battle, it came rushing on the wings of the wind,</p> + <p class="i1">A sound of sacked cities, a sound of lamentation,</p> +<p>A cry of desolation, as when a conquered nation</p> + <p class="i1">Is weeping in the darkness, because its tale is told;</p> +<p>And then—a sound of chariots that rolled thro’ that sorrow</p> + <p class="i1">Trampled like a storm of wild stallions, tossing nearer,</p> +<p>Trampled louder, clearer, triumphantly as music,</p> + <p class="i1">Till lo! in that great darkness, along that vacant street,</p> +<p>A red light beat like a furnace on the walls,</p> + <p class="i1">Then—like the blast when the North-wind calls to battle,</p> +<p>Blaring thro’ the blood-red tumult and the flame,</p> + <p class="i1">Shaking the proud City as they came, an hundred elephants,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page139"></a>139</span></p> +<p>Cream-white and bronze, and splashed with bitter crimson,</p> + <p class="i1">Trumpeting for battle as they trod, an hundred elephants,</p> +<p>Bronze and cream-white, and trapped with gold and purple,</p> + <p class="i1">Towered like tuskéd castles, every thunder-laden footfall</p> +<p>Dreadful as the shattering of a City. Yet they trod,</p> + <p class="i1">Rocking like an earthquake, to a great triumphant music,</p> +<p>And, swinging like the stars, black planets, white moons,</p> + <p class="i1">Thro’ the stream of the torches, they brought the red chariot,</p> +<p>The chariot of the battle-god—Mars.</p> + <p class="i1">While the tall spears of Sparta tossed clashing in his train,</p> +<p>And a host of ghostly warriors cried aloud</p> + <p class="i1"><i>All hail!</i> to those twain, and went rushing to the darkness</p> +<p>Like a pageantry of cloud, for their tale was told—utterly—</p> + <p class="i1">Told.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page140"></a>140</span></p> +<p class="s">And following, in the fury of the vine, rushing down</p> + <p class="i1">Like a many-visaged torrent, with ivy-rod and thyrse,</p> +<p>And many a wild and foaming crown of roses,</p> + <p class="i1">Crowded the Bacchanals, the brown-limbed shepherds,</p> +<p>The red-tongued leopards, and the glory of the god!</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Iacchus! Iacchus!</i> without dance, without song,</p> +<p>They cried and swept along to the darkness.</p> + <p class="i1">Only for a breath when the tumult of their torches</p> +<p>Crimsoned the deep window where that dark warrior stood</p> + <p class="i1">With the blood upon his mail, and the Queen—Cleopatra,</p> +<p>Frozen to white marble—the Mænads raised their timbrels,</p> + <p class="i1">Tossed their white arms, with a clash—<i>All hail!</i></p> +<p>Like wild swimmers, pale, in a sea of blood and wine,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page141"></a>141</span></p> + <p class="i1"><i>All hail! All hail!</i> Then they swept into the darkness</p> +<p>And the darkness buried them. Their tale was told—utterly—</p> + <p class="i1">Told.</p> + +<p class="s">And following them, O softer than the moon upon the sea,</p> + <p class="i1">Aphrodite, implacably, shone.</p> +<p>Like a furnace of white roses, Aphrodite and her train</p> + <p class="i1">Lifted their white arms to those twain in the silence</p> +<p>Once, and were gone into the darkness;</p> + <p class="i1">Once, and away into the darkness they were swept</p> +<p>Like a pageantry of cloud, without praise, without pity.</p> + <p class="i1">Then the dark City slept. And the Queen—Cleopatra—</p> +<p>Subtlest of women that this earth has ever seen,</p> + <p class="i1">Turning to her lover in the darkness where he stood,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page142"></a>142</span></p> +<p>With the blood upon his mail,</p> + <p class="i1">Bowing her head upon that iron in the darkness,</p> + <p class="i1">Wept.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page143"></a>143</span></p> +<h3>THE CRAGS</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>In memory of Thomas Bailey Aldrich</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">FALERNIAN, first! What other wine</p> +<p>Should brim the cup or tint the line</p> + <p class="i1">That would recall my days</p> + <p class="i1">Among your creeks and bays;</p> + +<p class="s">Where, founded on a rock, your house</p> +<p>Between the pines’ unfading boughs</p> + <p class="i1">Watches through sun and rain</p> + <p class="i1">That lonelier coast of Maine;</p> + +<p class="s">And the Atlantic’s mounded blue</p> +<p>Breaks on your crags the summer through,</p> + <p class="i1">A long pine’s length below,</p> + <p class="i1">In rainbow-tossing snow.</p> + +<p class="s">While on your railed verandah there</p> +<p>As on a deck you sail through air,</p> + <p class="i1">And sea and cloud and sky</p> + <p class="i1">Go softly streaming by.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page144"></a>144</span></p> +<p class="s">Like delicate oils at set of sun</p> +<p>Smoothing the waves the colours run—</p> + <p class="i1">Around the enchanted hull,</p> + <p class="i1">Anchored and beautiful,—</p> + +<p class="s">Restoring to that sun-dried star</p> +<p>You brought from coral isles afar—</p> + <p class="i1">With shells that mock the moon—</p> + <p class="i1">The tints of their lagoon;</p> + +<p class="s">Till, from within, your lamps declare</p> +<p>Your harbours by the colours there,</p> + <p class="i1">An Indian god, a fan</p> + <p class="i1">Painted in Old Japan.</p> + +<p class="s">But, best of all, I think at night,</p> +<p>The moon that makes a road of light</p> + <p class="i1">Across the whispering sea,</p> + <p class="i1">A road—for memory.</p> + +<p class="s">When the blue dusk has filled the pane,</p> +<p>And the great pine-logs burn again,</p> + <p class="i1">And books are good to read.</p> + <p class="i1">—For his were books indeed.—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page145"></a>145</span></p> +<p class="s">Their silken shadows, rustling, dim,</p> +<p>May sing no more of Spain for him;</p> + <p class="i1">No shadows of old France</p> + <p class="i1">Renew their courtly dance.</p> + +<p class="s">He walks no more where shadows are</p> +<p>But left their ivory gates ajar,</p> + <p class="i1">That shadows might prolong</p> + <p class="i1">The dance, the tale, the song.</p> + +<p class="s">His was no narrow test or rule.</p> +<p>He chose the best of every school,—</p> + <p class="i1">Stendhal and Keats and Donne,</p> + <p class="i1">Balzac and Stevenson;</p> + +<p class="s">Wordsworth and Flaubert filled their place.</p> +<p>Dumas met Hawthorne face to face.</p> + <p class="i1">There were both new and old</p> + <p class="i1">In his good realm of gold.</p> + +<p class="s">The title-pages bore his name;</p> +<p>And, nightly, by the dancing flame,</p> + <p class="i1">Following him, I found</p> + <p class="i1">That all was haunted ground;</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page146"></a>146</span></p> +<p class="s">Until a friendlier shadow fell</p> +<p>Upon the leaves he loved so well,</p> + <p class="i1">And I no longer read,</p> + <p class="i1">But talked with him instead.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page147"></a>147</span></p> +<h3>THE GHOST OF SHAKESPEARE</h3> + +<p class="center noind">1914</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">CRIMSON was the twilight, under that crab-tree,</p> +<p>Where—old tales tell us—all a midsummer’s night,</p> +<p>A mad young poacher, drunk with mead of elfin-land,</p> +<p>Lodged with the fern-owl, and looked at the stars.</p> + +<p class="s">There, from the dusk where the dream of Piers Plowman</p> +<p>Darkens on the sunset, to this dusk of our own,</p> +<p>I read, in a history, the record of our world.</p> + +<p class="s">The hawk-moth, the currant-moth, the red-striped tiger-moth</p> +<p>Shimmered all around me, so white shone those pages;</p> +<p>And, in among the blue boughs, the bats flew low.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page148"></a>148</span></p> +<p class="s">I slumbered, the history slipped from my hand.</p> +<p>Then I saw a dead man, dreadful in the moon-dawn,</p> +<p>The ghost of the master, bowed upon that book.</p> +<p>He muttered as he searched it,—<i>what vast convulsion</i></p> +<p><i>Mocks my sexton’s curse now, shakes our English clay?</i></p> +<p>Whereupon I told him, and asked him in turn</p> +<p>Whether he espied any light in those pages</p> +<p>Which painted an epoch later than his own.</p> +<p><i>I am a shadow</i>, he said, <i>and I see none</i>....</p> + +<p><i>I am a shadow</i>, he said, <i>and I see none</i>.</p> + +<p class="s">Then, O then he murmured to himself (while the moon hung</p> +<p>Crimson as a lanthorn of Cathay in that crab-tree),</p> +<p>Laughing at his work and the world, as I thought,</p> +<p>Yet with some bitterness, yet with some beauty,</p> +<p>Mocking his own music, these wraiths of his rhymes:</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page149"></a>149</span></p> +<h5>I</h5> + +<p class="s">God, when I turn the leaves of that dark book</p> + <p class="i1">Wherein our wisest teach us to recall</p> +<p>Those glorious flags which in old tempests shook</p> + <p class="i1">And those proud thrones which held my youth in thrall;</p> + +<p class="s">When I see clear what seemed to childish eyes</p> + <p class="i1">The gorgeous colouring of each pictured age;</p> +<p>And for their dominant tints now recognise</p> + <p class="i1">Those prints of innocent blood on every page;</p> + +<p class="s">O, then I know this world is fast asleep,</p> + <p class="i1">Bound in Time’s womb, till some far morning break;</p> +<p>And, though light grows upon the dreadful deep,</p> + <p class="i1">We are dungeoned in thick night. We are not awake.</p> + +<p class="s">The world’s unborn, for all our hopes and schemes;</p> +<p>And all its myriads only move in dreams.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page150"></a>150</span></p> +<h5>II</h5> + +<p class="s">Read what our wisest chroniclers record:—</p> + <p class="i1">A king betrayed both foes and friends to death,</p> +<p>Delivered his own country to the sword,</p> + <p class="i1">And lied, and lied, and lied to his last breath.</p> + +<p class="s">He died, the martyred anarch of his time.</p> + <p class="i1">What balm is this that consecrates his dust?</p> +<p>The self-same history shudders at the “crime”</p> + <p class="i1">Which shed a blood so fragrant, so “august.”</p> + +<p class="s">Yes. Let our sons by thousands, millions, die;</p> + <p class="i1">And when the crowned assassin of to-day</p> +<p>Stands in the Judgment Hall of Liberty</p> + <p class="i1">What shall your desolate nations rise and say?</p> + +<p class="s">Honour the dog. He’s vanquished! He’s a king!</p> +<p>So—for our dead—he’s too “august” a thing.</p> + +<div class="pd05"> </div> +<h5>III</h5> + +<p class="s"><i>It was a crimson twilight, under that crab-tree.</i></p> +<p><i>Moths beat about me, and bats flew low.</i></p> +<p><i>I read, in a history, the record of our world.</i></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page151"></a>151</span></p> +<p><i>If there be light, said the Master,</i></p> +<p><i>I am a shadow, and I see none ...</i></p> +<p><i>I am a shadow, and I see none.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page152"></a>152</span></p> +<h3>THE WHITE CLIFFS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">WODEN made the red cliffs, the red walls of England.</p> + <p class="i1">Round the South of Devonshire, they burn against the blue.</p> +<p>Green is the water there; and, clear as liquid sunlight,</p> + <p class="i1">Blue-green as mackerel, the bays that Raleigh knew.</p> + +<p class="s">Thor made the black cliffs, the battlements of England,</p> + <p class="i1">Climbing to Tintagel where the white gulls wheel.</p> +<p>Cold are the caverns there, and sullen as a cannon-mouth,</p> + <p class="i1">Booming back the grey swell that gleams like steel.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page153"></a>153</span></p> +<p class="s">Balder made the white cliffs, the white shield of England</p> + <p class="i1">(Crowned with thyme and violet where Sussex wheatears fly),</p> +<p>White as the White Ensign are the bouldered heights of Dover,</p> + <p class="i1">Beautiful the scutcheon that they bare against the sky.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>So the world shall sing of them—the white cliffs of England,</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>White, the glory of her sails, the banner of her pride.</i></p> +<p><i>One and all,—their seamen met and broke the dread Armada.</i></p> + <p class="i1"><i>Only white may show the world the shield for which they died.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page154"></a>154</span></p> +<h3>ON THE SOUTH COAST</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">COME away into the sun and see</p> +<p>All the heavens that used to be,</p> +<p>Daily, hourly, brought to birth</p> +<p>Out of the deep remembering earth.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>This is England, this is the land</i></p> +<p><i>That holds my heart in her sweet hand.</i></p> +<p><i>This is she whose turf, I pray,</i></p> +<p><i>Will hide me, on her breast, one day.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Cast you down on the close-cropped turf,</p> +<p>See how the white cliff spreads the surf,</p> +<p>On green-eyed seas that glitter and trail</p> +<p>Into the south like a peacock’s tail.</p> + +<p class="s">Then, come away over the hills of thyme,</p> +<p>Where folds like elfin belfries chime</p> +<p>Till Eve, in a cloud of her dusky hair,</p> +<p>Makes it Elf-land everywhere.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page155"></a>155</span></p> +<p class="s">You shall pity the king on his throne.</p> +<p>You shall know what never was known.</p> +<p>All the glory of all the skies</p> +<p>Utterly yours in your true love’s eyes;</p> + +<p class="s">All the bloom to the world’s end</p> +<p>And all the heavens that over it bend,</p> +<p>Compacted in one garden white,</p> +<p>The garden of your love’s delight.</p> + +<p class="s"><i>This is England, this is the land</i></p> +<p><i>That holds my soul in her sweet hand.</i></p> +<p><i>This is she whose turf, I pray,</i></p> +<p><i>Will hide me on her heart one day.</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page156"></a>156</span></p> +<h3>OLDER THAN THE HILLS</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">OLDER than the hills, older than the sea,</p> + <p class="i1">Older than the heart of the Spring,</p> +<p>O, what is this that breaks</p> +<p>From the blind shell, wakes,</p> + <p class="i1">Wakes, and is gone like a wing?</p> + +<p class="s">Older than the sea, older than the moon,</p> + <p class="i1">Older than the heart of the May,</p> +<p>What is this blind refrain</p> +<p>Of a song that shall remain</p> + <p class="i1">When the singer is long gone away?</p> + +<p class="s">Older than the moon, older than the stars,</p> + <p class="i1">Older than the wind in the night,—</p> +<p>Though the young dews are sweet</p> +<p>On the heather at our feet</p> + <p class="i1">And the blue hills laughing back the light,—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page157"></a>157</span></p> +<p class="s">Till the stars grow young, till the hills grow young,</p> + <p class="i1">O, Love, we shall walk through Time,</p> +<p>Till we round the world at last,</p> +<p>And the future be the past,</p> + <p class="i1">And the winds of Eden greet us from the prime.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page158"></a>158</span></p> +<h3>THE TORCH</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>Sussex Landscape</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">IS it your watch-fire, elves, where the down with its darkening shoulder</p> + <p class="i1">Lifts on the death of the sun, out of the valley of thyme?</p> +<p>Dropt on the broad chalk path and, cresting the ridge of it, smoulder</p> + <p class="i1">Crimson as blood on the white, halting my feet as they climb,</p> + +<p class="s">Clusters of clover-bloom, spilled from what negligent arms in the tender</p> + <p class="i1">Dusk of the great grey world, last of the tints of the day;</p> +<p>Beautiful, sorrowful, strange last stain of that perishing splendour.</p> + <p class="i1">Elves, from what torn white feet trickled that red on the way?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page159"></a>159</span></p> +<p class="s">No—from the sun-burnt hands of what lovers that fade in the distance?</p> + <p class="i1">Here, was it here that they paused, here that the legend was told?</p> +<p>Even a kiss would be heard in this hush; but, with mocking insistence,</p> + <p class="i1">Now thro’ the valley resound—only the bells of the fold.</p> + +<p class="s">Dropt—from the hands of what beautiful throng? Did they cry “<i>follow after</i>”?</p> + <p class="i1">Dancing into the west, leaving this token for me,</p> +<p><i>Memory dead on the path, and the sunset to bury their laughter?</i></p> + <p class="i1">Youth—is it youth that has flown? Darkness covers the sea.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page160"></a>160</span></p> +<p class="s">Darkness covers the earth; but the path is here! I assay it.</p> + <p class="i1">Let the bloom fall like a flake—dropt from the torch of a friend!</p> +<p>Beautiful revellers, happy companions, I see and obey it;</p> + <p class="i1">Follow your torch in the night, follow your path to the end.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page161"></a>161</span></p> +<h3>THE OUTLAW</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">DEEP in the greenwood of my heart</p> + <p class="i1">My wild hounds race.</p> +<p>I cloak my soul at feast and mart,</p> + <p class="i1">I mask my face;</p> + +<p class="s">Outlawed, but not alone, for Truth</p> + <p class="i1">Is outlawed, too.</p> +<p>Proud world, you cannot banish us.</p> + <p class="i1"><i>We</i> banish <i>you</i>.</p> + +<p class="s">Go by, go by, with all your din,</p> + <p class="i1">Your dust, your greed, your guile,</p> +<p>Your gold, your thrones can never win—</p> + <p class="i1">From Her—one smile.</p> + +<p class="s">She sings to me in a lonely place,</p> + <p class="i1">She takes my hand.</p> +<p>I look into her lovely face</p> + <p class="i1">And understand....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page162"></a>162</span></p> +<p class="s">Outlawed, but not alone, for Love</p> + <p class="i1">Is outlawed, too.</p> +<p>You cannot banish us, proud world.</p> + <p class="i1"><i>We</i> banish <i>you</i>.</p> + +<p class="s">Now which is outlawed, which alone?</p> + <p class="i1">Around us fall and rise</p> +<p>Murmurs of leaf and fern, the moan</p> + <p class="i1">Of Paradise.</p> + +<p class="s">Outlawed? Then hills and woods and streams</p> + <p class="i1">Are outlawed, too!</p> +<p>Proud world, from our immortal dreams,</p> + <p class="i1">We banish you.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page163"></a>163</span></p> +<h3>THE YOUNG FRIAR</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">WHEN leaves broke out on the wild briar,</p> + <p class="i1">And bells for matins rung,</p> +<p>Sorrow came to the old friar</p> + <p class="i1">—Hundreds of years ago it was!—</p> +<p>And May came to the young.</p> + +<p class="s">The old was ripening for the sky,</p> + <p class="i1">The young was twenty-four.</p> +<p>The Franklin’s daughter passed him by,</p> + <p class="i1">Reading a painted missal-book,</p> +<p>Beside the chapel door.</p> + +<p class="s">With brown cassock and sandalled feet,</p> + <p class="i1">And red Spring wine for blood;</p> +<p>The very next noon he chanced to meet</p> + <p class="i1">The Franklin’s daughter, in a green May twilight,</p> +<p>Walking through the wood.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page164"></a>164</span></p> +<p class="s"><i>Pax vobiscum</i>—to a maid</p> + <p class="i1">The crosiered ferns among!</p> +<p>But hers was only the Saxon,</p> + <p class="i1">And his the Norman tongue;</p> +<p>And the Latin taught by the old friar</p> + <p class="i1">Made music for the young.</p> + +<p class="s">And never a better deed was done</p> + <p class="i1">By Mother Church below</p> +<p>Than when she made old England one,</p> + <p class="i1">—Hundreds of years ago it was!—</p> +<p>Hundreds of years ago.</p> + +<p class="s">Rich was the painted page they read</p> + <p class="i1">Before that sunset died;</p> +<p>Nut-brown hood by golden head,</p> + <p class="i1">Murmuring <i>Rosa Mystica</i>,</p> +<p>While nesting thrushes cried.</p> + +<p class="s">A Saxon maid with flaxen hair,</p> + <p class="i1">And eyes of Sussex grey;</p> +<p>A young monk out of Normandy:—</p> + <p class="i1">“May is our Lady’s month,” he said,</p> +<p>“And O, my love, my May!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page165"></a>165</span></p> +<p class="s">Then over the fallen missal-book</p> + <p class="i1">The missel-thrushes sung</p> +<p>Till—<i>Domus Aurea</i>—rose the moon</p> + <p class="i1">And bells for vespers rung.</p> +<p>It was gold and blue for the old friar,</p> + <p class="i1">But hawthorn for the young.</p> + +<p class="s">For gown of green and brown hood,</p> + <p class="i1">Before that curfew tolled,</p> +<p>Had flown for ever through the wood</p> + <p class="i1">—Hundreds of years ago it was!—</p> +<p>But twenty summers old.</p> + +<p class="s">And empty stood his chapel stall,</p> + <p class="i1">Empty his thin grey cell,</p> +<p>Empty her seat in the Franklin’s hall;</p> + <p class="i1">And there were swords that searched for them</p> +<p>Before the matin bell.</p> + +<p class="s">And, crowders tell, a sword that night</p> + <p class="i1">Wrought them an evil turn,</p> +<p>And that the may was not more white</p> + <p class="i1">Than those white bones the robin found</p> +<p>Among the roots of fern.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page166"></a>166</span></p> +<p class="s">But others tell of stranger things</p> + <p class="i1">Half-heard on Whitsun eves,</p> +<p>Of sweet and ghostly whisperings—</p> + <p class="i1">Though hundreds of years ago it was—</p> +<p>Among the ghostly leaves:—</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Sero te amavi</i>—</p> + <p class="i3">Grey eyes of sun-lit dew!—</p> + <p class="i2"><i>Tam antiqua, Tam nova</i>—</p> + <p class="i3">Augustine heard it, too.</p> + <p class="i2">Late have I loved that May, Lady,</p> + <p class="i3">So ancient, and so new!</p> + +<p class="s">And no man knows where they were flown,</p> + <p class="i1">For the wind takes the may:</p> +<p>But white and fresh the may was blown</p> + <p class="i1">—Though hundreds of years ago it was—</p> +<p>As this that blooms to-day.</p> + +<p class="s">And the leaves break out on the wild briar,</p> + <p class="i1">And bells must still be rung;</p> +<p>But sorrow comes to the old friar,</p> + <p class="i1">For he remembers a May, a May,</p> +<p>When his old heart was young.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page167"></a>167</span></p> +<h3>A FOREST SONG</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">WHO would be a king</p> +<p>That can sit in the sun and sing?</p> +<p>Nay, I have a kingdom of mine own.</p> +<p>A fallen oak-tree is my throne.</p> + <p class="i2"><i>Then, pluck the strings, and tell me true</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>If Cæsar in his glory knew</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>The worlds he lost in sun and dew.</i></p> + +<p class="s">Who would be a queen</p> +<p>That sees what my love hath seen?—</p> +<p>The blood of little children shed</p> +<p>To make one royal ruby red!</p> + <p class="i2"><i>Then, tell me, music, why the great</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>For quarrelling trumpets abdicate</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>This quick, this absolute estate.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page168"></a>168</span></p> +<p class="s">Nay, who would sing in heaven,</p> +<p>Among the choral Seven</p> +<p>That hears—as Love and I have heard,</p> +<p>The whole sky listening to one bird?</p> + <p class="i2"><i>And where’s the ruby, tell me where,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Whose crimsons for one breath compare</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>With this wild rose that all may share?</i></p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page169"></a>169</span></p> +<h3>THE TRUMPET OF THE LAW</h3> + +<p class="center noind">(<i>Phi Beta Kappa Poem, Harvard, 1915</i>)</p> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">MUSIC is dead. An age, an age is dying.</p> +<p>Shreds of Uranian song, wild symphonies</p> +<p>Tortured with moans of butchered innocents,</p> +<p>Blow past us on the wind. Chaos resumes</p> +<p>His kingdom. All the visions of the world,</p> +<p>The visions that were music, being shaped</p> +<p>By law, moving in measure, treading the road</p> +<p>That suns and systems tread, O who can hear</p> +<p>Their music now? Urania bows her head.</p> +<p>Only the feet that move in order dance.</p> +<p>Only the mind attuned to that dread pulse</p> +<p>Of law throughout the universe can sing.</p> +<p>Only the soul that plays its rhythmic part</p> +<p>In that great measure of the tides and suns</p> +<p>Terrestrial and celestial, till it soar</p> +<p>Into the supreme melodies of heaven,</p> +<p>Only that soul, climbing the splendid road</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page170"></a>170</span></p> +<p>Of law from height to height, may walk with God,</p> +<p>Shape its own sphere from chaos, conquer death,</p> +<p>Lay hold on life and liberty, and sing.</p> + +<p class="s">Yet, since, at least, the fleshly heart must beat</p> +<p>In measure, and no new rebellion breaks</p> +<p>That old restriction, murmurs reach it still,</p> +<p>Rumours of that vast music which resolves</p> +<p>Our discords, and to this, to this attuned,</p> +<p>Though blindly, it responds, in notes like these:</p> + + <p class="i1 s">There was a song in heaven of old,</p> + <p class="i2">A song the choral seven began,</p> + <p class="i1">When God with all his chariots rolled</p> + <p class="i2">The tides of chaos back for man;</p> + <p class="i1">When suns revolved and planets wheeled,</p> + <p class="i2">And the great oceans ebbed and flowed,</p> + <p class="i1">There is one way of life, it pealed,</p> + <p class="i2">The road of law, the unchanging road.</p> + + <p class="i1 s">The trumpet of the law resounds,</p> + <p class="i2">And we behold, from depth to height,</p> + <p class="i1">What glittering sentries walk their rounds,</p> + <p class="i2">What ordered hosts patrol the night,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page171"></a>171</span></p> + <p class="i1">While wheeling worlds proclaim to us,</p> + <p class="i2">Captained by Thee thro’ nights unknown,—</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Glory that would be glorious</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Must keep Thy law to find its own.</i></p> + + <p class="i1 s">Beyond rebellion, past caprice,</p> + <p class="i2">From heavens that comprehend all change,</p> + <p class="i1">All space, all time, till time shall cease,</p> + <p class="i2">The trumpet rings to souls that range,</p> + <p class="i1">To souls that in wild dreams annul</p> + <p class="i2">Thy word, confessed by wood and stone,—</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Beauty that would be beautiful</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Must keep Thy law to find its own.</i></p> + + <p class="i1 s">He that can shake it, will he thrust</p> + <p class="i2">His careless hands into the fire?</p> + <p class="i1">He that would break it, shall we trust</p> + <p class="i2">The sun to rise at his desire?</p> + <p class="i1">Constant above our discontent,</p> + <p class="i2">The trumpet peals in sterner tone,—</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Might that would be omnipotent</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Must keep Thy law to find its own.</i></p> + + <p class="i1 s">Ah, though beneath unpitying spheres</p> + <p class="i2">Unreckoned seems our human cry,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page172"></a>172</span></p> + <p class="i1">In Thy deep law, beyond the years,</p> + <p class="i2">Abides the Eternal memory.</p> + <p class="i1">Thy law is light, to eyes grown dull</p> + <p class="i2">Dreaming of worlds like bubbles blown;</p> + <p class="i1"><i>And Mercy that is merciful</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Shall keep Thy law and find its own.</i></p> + + <p class="i1 s">Unchanging God, by that one Light</p> + <p class="i2">Through which we grope to Truth and Thee,</p> + <p class="i1">Confound not yet our day with night,</p> + <p class="i2">Break not the measures of Thy sea.</p> + <p class="i1">Hear not, though grief for chaos cry</p> + <p class="i2">Or rail at Thine unanswering throne.</p> + <p class="i1"><i>Thy law, Thy law, is liberty,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>And in Thy law we find our own.</i></p> + +<p class="s">So, to Uranian music, rose our world.</p> +<p>The boughs put forth, the young leaves groped for light.</p> +<p>The wild flower spread its petals as in prayer.</p> +<p>Then, for terrestrial ears, vast discords rose,</p> +<p>The struggle in the jungle, clashing themes</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page173"></a>173</span></p> +<p>That strove for mastery; but above them all,</p> +<p>Ever the mightier measure of the suns</p> +<p>Resolved them into broader harmonies,</p> +<p>That fought again for mastery. The night</p> +<p>Buried the mastodon. The warring tribes</p> +<p>Of men were merged in nations. Wider laws</p> +<p>Embraced them. Man no longer fought with man,</p> +<p>Though nation warred with nation. Hatred fell</p> +<p>Before the gaze of love. For in an hour</p> +<p>When, by the law of might, mankind could rise</p> +<p>No higher, into the deepening music stole</p> +<p>A loftier theme, a law that gathered all</p> +<p>The laws of earth into its broadening breast</p> +<p>And moved like one full river to the sea,</p> +<p>The law of Love.</p> +<p>The sun stood dark at noon;</p> +<p>Dark as the moon before this mightier Power,</p> +<p>And a Voice rang across the blood-stained earth:</p> +<p><i>I am the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Light.</i></p> +<p>We heard it, and we did not hear. In dreams</p> +<p>We caught a thousand fragments of the strain,</p> +<p>But never wholly heard it. We moved on</p> +<p>Obeying it a little, till our world</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page174"></a>174</span></p> +<p>Became so vast, that we could only hear</p> +<p>Stray notes, a golden phrase, a sorrowful cry,</p> +<p>Never the rounded glory of the whole.</p> +<p>So one would sing of death, one of despair,</p> +<p>And some, knowing that God was more than man,</p> +<p>Knowing that the Eternal Power behind</p> +<p>Our universe was more than man, would shrink</p> +<p>From crowning Him with human attributes,</p> +<p>Though these remained the highest that we knew;</p> +<p>And therefore, falling back on lower signs,</p> +<p>Bereft of love, thought, personality,</p> +<p>They made Him less than man; made Him a blind</p> +<p>Unweeting force, less than the best in man,</p> +<p>Less than the best that He Himself had made.</p> + +<p class="s">Yet, though from earth we could no longer hear</p> +<p>As from a central throne, the harmonies</p> +<p>Of the revolving whole; yet though from earth,</p> +<p>And from earth’s Calvary, the central scene</p> +<p>Withdrew to dreadful depths beyond our ken;</p> +<p>Withdrew to some deep Calvary at the heart</p> +<p>Of all creation; yet, O yet, we heard,</p> +<p>Echoes that murmured from Eternity,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page175"></a>175</span></p> +<p><i>I am the Way, the Truth, the Life, the Light.</i></p> +<p>And still the eternal passion undiscerned</p> +<p>Moved like a purple shadow through our world,</p> +<p>While we, in intellectual chaos, raised</p> +<p>The ancient cry, <i>Not this man, but Barabbas.</i></p> +<p>Then Might grew Right once more, for who could hold</p> +<p>The Right, when the rebellious hearts of men</p> +<p>Finding the Law too hard in life, thought, art,</p> +<p>Proclaimed that Right itself was born of chance,</p> +<p>Born out of nothingness and doomed, at last,</p> +<p>To nothingness; while all that men have held</p> +<p>Better than dust—love, honour, justice, truth—</p> +<p>Was less than dust, for the blind dust endures?</p> +<p>But love, they said, and the proud soul of man,</p> +<p>Die with the breath, before the flesh decays.</p> +<p>And still, amidst the chaos, Love was born,</p> +<p>Suffered and died; and in a myriad forms</p> +<p>A myriad parables of the Eternal Christ</p> +<p>Unfolded their deep message to mankind.</p> +<p>So, on this last wild winter of his birth,</p> +<p>Though cannon rocked his cradle, heaven might hear,</p> +<p>Once more, the Mother and her infant Child.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page176"></a>176</span></p> + <p class="i1 s"><i>Will the Five Clock-Towers chime tonight?</i></p> + <p class="i2">—Child, the red earth would shake with scorn.—</p> + <p class="i1"><i>But will the Emperors laugh outright</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>If Roland rings that Christ is born?</i></p> + + <p class="i1 s">No belfries pealed for that pure birth.</p> + <p class="i2">There were no high-stalled choirs to sing.</p> + <p class="i1">The blood of children smoked on earth;</p> + <p class="i2">For Herod, in those days, was king.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>O, then the Mother and her Son</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Were refugees that Christmas, too?—</i></p> + <p class="i1">Through all the ages, little one,</p> + <p class="i2">That strange old story still comes true.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>Was there no peace in Bethlehem?—</i></p> + <p class="i2">Yes. There was Love in one poor Inn;</p> + <p class="i1">And, while His wings were over them,</p> + <p class="i2">They heard those deeper songs begin.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>What songs were they? What songs were they?</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Did stars of shrapnel shed their light?—</i></p> + <p class="i1"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page177"></a>177</span></p> + <p class="i1">O, little child, I have lost the way.</p> + <p class="i2">I cannot find that Inn tonight.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>Is there no peace, then, anywhere?—</i></p> + <p class="i2">Perhaps, where some poor soldier lies</p> + <p class="i1">With all his wounds in front, out there.—</p> + <p class="i2"><i>You weep?</i>—He had your innocent eyes.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>Then is it true that Christ’s a slave,</i></p> + <p class="i2"><i>Whom all these wrongs can never rouse?—</i></p> + <p class="i1">They said it. But His anger drave</p> + <p class="i2">The money-changers from His House.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>Yet He forgave and turned away.—</i></p> + <p class="i2">Yes, unto seventy times and seven.</p> + <p class="i1">But they forget. He comes one day</p> + <p class="i2">In power, among the clouds of heaven.—</p> + + <p class="i1 s"><i>Then Roland rings?</i>—Yes, little son!</p> + <p class="i2">With iron hammers they dare not scorn,</p> + <p class="i1">Roland is breaking them, gun by gun,</p> + <p class="i2">Roland is ringing. Christ is born.</p> + +<p class="s">Born and re-born; for though the Christ we knew</p> +<p>On earth be dead for ever, who shall kill</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page178"></a>178</span></p> +<p>The Eternal Christ whose law is in our hearts,</p> +<p>Christ, who in this dark hour descends to hell,</p> +<p>And ascends into heaven, and sits beside</p> +<p>The right hand of the Father. If for men</p> +<p>This law be dead, it lives for children still.</p> +<p>Children that men have butchered see His face,</p> +<p>Rest in His arms, and strike our mockery dumb.</p> +<p>So shall the trumpet of the law resound</p> +<p>Through all the ages, telling of that child</p> +<p>Whose outstretched arms in Belgium speak for God.</p> + + <p class="i1 s">They crucified a Man of old,</p> + <p class="i2">The thorns are shrivelled on His brow.</p> + <p class="i1">Prophet or fool or God, behold,</p> + <p class="i2">They crucify Thy children now.</p> + <p class="i1">They doubted evil, doubted good,</p> + <p class="i2">And the eternal heavens as well,</p> + <p class="i1">Behold, the iron and the blood,</p> + <p class="i2">The visible handiwork of Hell.</p> + + <p class="i1 s">Fast to the cross they found it there,</p> + <p class="i2">They found it in the village street,</p> + <p class="i1">A naked child, with sunkissed hair.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page179"></a>179</span></p> + <p class="i2">The nails were through its hands and feet.</p> + <p class="i1">For Christ was dead, yes, Christ was dead!</p> + <p class="i2">O Lamb of God, O little one,</p> + <p class="i1">I kneel before your cross instead</p> + <p class="i2">And the same shadow veils the sun....</p> + + <p class="i2 s">And the same shadow veils the sun....</p> + +<p class="s">But you, O land, O beautiful land of Freedom,</p> +<p>Hold fast the faith which made and keeps you great.</p> +<p>With you, with you abide the faith and hope,</p> +<p>In this dark hour, of agonised mankind.</p> +<p>Hold to that law whereby the warring tribes</p> +<p>Were merged in nations, hold to that wide law</p> +<p>Which bids you merge the nations, here and now,</p> +<p>Into one people. Hold to that deep law</p> +<p>Whereby we reach the peace which is not death</p> +<p>But the triumphant harmony of Life,</p> +<p>Eternal Life, immortal Love, the Peace</p> +<p>Of worlds that sing around the throne of God.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page180"></a>180</span></p> +<h3>THRICE-ARMED</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">THUS only should it come, if come it must—</p> + <p class="i1">Not with a riot of flags and a mob-born cry,</p> + <p class="i1">But with a noble faith, a conscience high</p> +<p>That, if we fail, we failed not in our trust.</p> +<p>We fought for peace. We dared the bitter thrust</p> + <p class="i1">Of calumny for peace, and watched her die,</p> + <p class="i1">Her scutcheons rent from sky to outraged sky</p> +<p>By felon hands and trampled into the dust.</p> + +<p class="s">We proffered justice, and we saw the law</p> + <p class="i1">Cancelled by stroke on stroke of those deft hands</p> + <p class="i2">Which still retain the imperial forger’s pen.</p> +<p>They must have blood—Then, at this last, we draw</p> + <p class="i1">The sword, not with a riot of flags and bands,</p> + <p class="i2">But silence, and a mustering of men.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page181"></a>181</span></p> +<p class="s">They challenge Truth. A people makes reply,</p> + <p class="i1">East, West, North, South, one honour and one might,</p> + <p class="i1">From sea to sea, from height to war-worn height,</p> +<p>The old word rings out—to conquer or to die.</p> +<p>And we shall conquer! Though their eagles fly</p> + <p class="i1">Through heaven, around this ancient isle unite</p> + <p class="i1">Powers that were never vanquished in the fight,</p> +<p>The unconquerable Powers that cannot lie.</p> + +<p class="s">Though fire destroy her flesh, and many a year</p> + <p class="i1">This land forgot the faith that made her great,</p> + <p class="i2">Now, as her fleets cast off the North Sea foam,</p> +<p>Casting aside all faction and all fear,</p> + <p class="i1">Thrice-armed in all the majesty of her fate,</p> + <p class="i2">Britain remembers, and her sword strikes home.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + + +<div class="pd2"> </div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page182"></a>182</span></p> +<h3>THE SONG-TREE</h3> + +<table class="reg" summary="poem"><tr><td> +<div class="poemr"> + +<p class="dropcap">GROW, my song, like a tree,</p> + <p class="i1">As thou hast ever grown,</p> +<p>Since first, a wondering child,</p> + <p class="i1">Long since, I cherished thee.</p> +<p>It was at break of day,</p> + <p class="i1">Well I remember it,—</p> +<p>The first note that I heard,</p> + <p class="i1">A magical undertone,</p> +<p>Sweeter than any bird</p> + <p class="i1">—Or so it seemed to me—</p> +<p>And my tears ran wild.</p> + <p class="i1">This tale, this tale is true.</p> +<p>The light was growing gray;</p> + <p class="i1">And the rhymes ran so sweet</p> +<p>(For I was only a child)</p> + <p class="i1">That I knelt down to pray.</p> + +<p class="s">Grow, my song, like a tree.</p> + <p class="i1">Since then I have forgot</p> + <p class="i1">A thousand friends, but not</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page183"></a>183</span></p> +<p>The song that set me free,</p> + <p class="i1">So that to thee I gave</p> +<p>My hopes and my despairs,</p> + <p class="i1">My boyhood’s ecstasy,</p> +<p>My manhood’s prayers.</p> + <p class="i1">In dreams I have watched thee grow,</p> +<p>A ladder of sweet boughs,</p> + <p class="i1">Where angels come and go,</p> +<p>And birds keep house.</p> + <p class="i1">In dreams, I have seen thee wave</p> +<p>Over a distant land,</p> + <p class="i1">And watched thy roots expand,</p> +<p>And given my life to thee,</p> + <p class="i1">As I would give my grave.</p> + +<p class="s">Grow, my song, like a tree,</p> + <p class="i1">And when I am grown old,</p> +<p>Let me die under thee,</p> + <p class="i1">Die to enrich thy mould;</p> +<p>Die at thy roots, and so</p> + <p class="i1">Help thee to grow.</p> +<p>Make of this body and blood</p> + <p class="i1">Thy sempiternal food.</p> +<p>Then let some little child,</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page184"></a>184</span></p> + <p class="i1">Some friend I shall not see,</p> +<p>When the great dawn is gray,</p> + <p class="i1">Some lover I have not known,</p> +<p>In summers far away,</p> + <p class="i1">Sit listening under thee.</p> +<p>And in thy rustling hear</p> + <p class="i1">That mystical undertone,</p> +<p>Which made my tears run wild,</p> + <p class="i1">And made thee, O, how dear.</p> + +<p class="s">In the great years to be?</p> + <p class="i1">I am proud then? Ah, not so.</p> +<p>I have lived and died for thee.</p> + <p class="i1">Be patient Grow.</p> + +<p>Grow, my song, like a tree.</p> + +</div> +</td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LORD OF MISRULE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 30687-h.txt or 30687-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/6/8/30687">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/8/30687</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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