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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e62b9c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60870 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60870) diff --git a/old/60870-0.txt b/old/60870-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index da0aa1b..0000000 --- a/old/60870-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2416 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Underneath the Bough, by George Allan England - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Underneath the Bough - A Book of Verses - -Author: George Allan England - -Release Date: December 7, 2019 [EBook #60870] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - AUTOGRAPH EDITION - - Printed for subscribers only - - This Copy is - No. ___________ - - - - -UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH - - - - - UNDERNEATH - THE BOUGH - - _A BOOK OF VERSES_ - - By - GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND - - [Illustration] - - THE GRAFTON PRESS - NEW YORK - - - - - Copyright, 1903, by - GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND - - - - - This little book is offered to - AGNES - its inspirer, in this the tenth year - of her reign. - - - - -I desire to express my sincere thanks to Dr. Titus Munson Coan, Mr. -Justo Quintéro and Mr. A. B. Myrick for assistance rendered, and to -acknowledge the kind permission to reprint certain of these verses -given me by The Literary Digest, Harvard Illustrated Magazine, Vogue, -Middletown Forum, Red Letter, Literary Review, Boston Transcript, Town -Topics, Smart Set, The New York Herald and other periodicals. - - G. A. E. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE. - - I. THE RACE OF THE MIGHTY 1 - - II. SONGS & SONNETS. - Love Beatified 9 - Morning, Noon and Night 10 - Dante 11 - Love’s Blindness 12 - Hesperides 13 - My Garden 18 - Erinnerungen 19 - The Battle Royal 20 - España 21 - Love’s Fear 22 - Longings 23 - Horace, IV, 8 24 - Ricordatevi Di Me! 26 - The Tower 28 - Love’s Prayer 30 - Combien J’ai Douce Souvenance 31 - My Little Red Devil and I 33 - The College Pump 37 - I Disputanti 38 - Quand Vous Serez Bien Vieille 39 - One Summer Night 40 - A Une Fleurette 42 - Blest Be the Day 43 - Mignonne Allons Voir Si La Rose 44 - Religion 45 - The Great Woods Were Awakening 46 - I-N-R-I 47 - Fayre Robyn 48 - Coeur de Femme 51 - - III. BALLADES & RONDEAUX - Ballade of the Sick 54 - Three Rondeaux from Charles d’Orléans 56 - The Song of the Poor 59 - Kyrielle 62 - Rondeau 64 - When I First Saw Edmée 65 - My Old Coat 66 - A Pantoum 68 - When Doris Deigns 70 - - IV. THE YEAR - Spring--May Evening 72 - Summer--August Rain 73 - Autumn--November in Cambridge 74 - Winter--Hampton Holidays 75 - - V. MORS OMNIUM VICTOR - Gunga Din in Hell 78 - Cui Bono? 79 - The Bride-Bed 80 - Dead Loves 81 - Death the Friend 82 - La Jeune Fille 83 - Lucie 84 - Luctus in Morte Passeris 89 - Death in December 90 - The Royal Council 92 - Carmen Mortis 93 - - - - -THE RACE OF THE MIGHTY - - - - -The Race of the Mighty[A] - -THE START - - The appointed time at length the dials show. - “Attention, both!... Now, are you ready?... Go!!” - The chauffeur grips his lever with a hand - Of steel.--A leap!--A flash of wheels! A grand - And supple beast-like spring!--A growl of gear! - As, sweeping through the multitudinous sea - Of men upraising full-voiced cheer on cheer, - He whirls away to promised victory!... - -ON THE ROAD - - The high road stretches straight and white - Away - To dreamy distance, on and on-- - The day - Dawns sharp and foggy; nips the driver’s - Nose, - Despite his costly furs. Zounds! How - It blows! - The motor purrs!--Our mobile seems - To fly, - Nor touch the ground... (Pneumatic - Mystery!) - The motor purrs!--Farewell wood, field - And stream! - Once on the road, we’ve scanty time - To dream! - The motor purrs!--Look out! A sheer - Decline. - Temptation whispers: Faster here! - It’s fine! - Faster? It’s madness! Yes, I know!-- - But on! - Full speed down hill! Another record - Gone!... - The driver plunges out of view... - See, there - He climbs the distant slope again. - I swear - He’d scale Olympus! Yet that course - Is clear - From many mishaps that beset - Us here! - We crush a curséd mongrel in - The dust! - Slow down to miss an English spinster, - Just - Graze by her on her clumsy, ancient - Wheel!-- - Rout ducks and chickens, set the pigs - A-squeal! - It’s not _our_ fault! We can’t be kept - All day - To clear the road!... Speed on!--Away! - Away!... - -THE STRUGGLE - - But hark!... Behind, a trumpet-blast winds clear! - Great God! Our dread competitor draws near; - We’d half a minute start, and now, like Fate, - He’s rushing onward to annihilate - Distance and time, whirled in a hurricane! - Inexorably we see him gain and gain.... - - “Now!--speed her up!” the boy cries out. “More speed!” - “The curséd motor’s gone to sleep!--Indeed, - “We’re hardly doing fifty miles an hour. - “But he won’t pass us yet awhile! More power!”... - The driver heeds; he moves--the furious pace - Grows frenzied! Oh, the glory of a race - Like this of modern days, with steady hand - To steer a whirlwind through a startled land! - -THE WATCHERS - - “The first is near!--Let no one cross!--Take care! - “See! There they are!--Look out! The horn! Beware! - “Stand back!--They’re two!... It’s Girardot! No, no; - “It’s Charron! No, it’s Levegh!--How they blow - “That horn!”... But who can hope to recognize - Or name the shrilling bullet in its flight? - And what are names when glory blinds the eyes? - The towns love sport, and cheer; but, half in fright - The laboring peasants stop their ploughs to see - This avalanche--this hurtling mystery! - -THE FINISH - - Untiring, on their mounts of fire and steel, - The shielded chauffeurs, watchful, hand on wheel, - Have flashed through many a league;--have breathed the dust - Of devious ways; have skirted wood and sea; - Have traversed towns, crossed rivers, hills and dales;-- - Nor halted once! To learn geography - By such vast lessons, though it tire the flesh, - Exalts the soul and makes the spirit free. - But now must end this vast, Titanic race! - (It cannot last forever!)--See! The place - Lies there!... A broad, white banner bars the way, - Between two lofty poles with streamers gay. - The “FINISH” there we read. The end at last! - All rest and glory, once that goal is passed! - A final burst!--The driver grips the bar! - The “FINISH!” In the road he sees afar - A judge with solemn air attentive stand, - Waving a crimson kerchief in his hand... - “Stop!” Harshly grinds the brake--“What number’s this?” - “Your name?” - Recorded! - Apotheosis!! - - - - -SONGS & SONNETS - - -Love Beatified. - - Love, slain by us and buried yesterday, - Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay. - - On his earth-stainèd brow and sightless eyes - Still shone the splendours of our Paradise. - - Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean, - And joys alone I saw, that might have been. - - It never seemed our Love could shew so fair - As that dead Presence, shrined in glory there. - - I would not have our Love to live again, - And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.-- - - Oh better far this blessèd death, and rest! - Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breast - And ever shall, for this I know is best! - - -Morning, Noon and Night. - - I love thee when the gates of eastern light - Are opened by the Morning-star, aflame; - I love thee when the rose-red heavens proclaim - The coming of their lord, to mortal sight, - And cloudless, when from his imperial height - He looks in glory down. I breathe thy name - With thoughts of love, when drowsy Noon the same - Poised, equal distance holds, twixt dawn and night. - - I love thee when the West begins to glow, - And when the restless winds lie still in heaven; - I love thee when the deep’ning shadows fall, - As comes with Tyrian dye, soft, purple even; - But when, from out the waters, rises slow - The noiseless Night, I love thee best of all. - - -Dante. - - Thou’rt but a pensive, dreaming Boy, when first - To thy sad eyne the sight of Love appears - With blessèd Beatrice. Nine circling years - Name thee the wounded Lover, whose sweet thirst - Is never sated, nor whose fever less. - At Campaldino thou’rt the mailèd Knight; - Savage to spur thy City on toward right - Thou’rt driven, its scape-goat, to the wilderness. - - There, in the stranger’s house whose stairs are pain - To mount, whose bread is bitter to thy mouth, - Dawns thy Great Vision, mid thy soul’s last drouth; - And, past Hell’s flame and Purgatory’s round, - Greets thee thy love most gentle, once again, - Thou frowning Florentine with laurels crowned! - - -Love’s Blindness. - - “O Love, my Love, thou canst not know how sweet, - How dear thou art!”--“Naught would I know, save this - That thou wilt ever yearn to share my kiss! - So being, I reck not whether years be fleet - Or endless!”--“But thou canst not see thy face - As others see thee! Thy deep eyes that greet - Their lucent-mirrored glimmerings, melt and meet - In glory there, to blind themselves a space!” - - “Hush, O my heart! Thy vain hyperbole - Means naught; but take in both thy hands and turn - To thee this face of mine, and kiss my brow, - And after that mine eyes which cannot see - But only feel thy lips that thrill, and now - My mouth, and now--O God! thy kisses burn!” - - -Hesperides. - - I - - Now once again the angry sun - Wheels up the heaven his tireless way; - Once more we strangling herds of men - Wake to our labours never-done, - Rise up to toil another day. - Down flares the heat on town and street, - Wide-warping pillar, span and plinth; - Once more my burning, wearied eyes - Within this monstrous labyrinth - Meet the mad heat that stifles me, - And O, my baffled spirit flies - In dreams to thy green wood and thee, - To thee!... To thee!... - - II - - My pavement-wearied feet again - Tread the rough streets whose ways are pain, - Hot with the sun’s last sullen beam, - And yet--I dream! - Dream when I wake, and at high, blinding Noon, - Or when the moon - Mocks the sad City in her sullen night - That burns too bright! - So sweet my visions seem - That from this sordid smoke and dust I turn, - Turn where the dim Wood-world calls out to me - And where the forest-virgins I half see - With green mysterious fingers beckoning! - Where vine-wreathed woodland altars sunlit burn, - Or Dryads weave their mystic rounds and sing, - Sing high, sing low, with magic cadences - That once the wild oaks of Dodona heard; - And every wood-note bids me burst asunder - The bonds that hold me from the leaf-hid bird! - I quaff thee, O Nepenthe! Ah, the wonder - Grows that there be who scorn not wealth and ease, - Who still will choose the street-life, rough and blurred, - Who will not quest you, O Hesperides!... - - III - - And now, and now... I feel the forest-moss! - O, on these moss-beds let me lie with Pan, - Twined with the ivy-vine in tendrilled curls! - And I will hold all gold that hampers man - But the base ashes of a barren dross! - On with the love-dance of the pagan girls! - The pagan girls with lips all rosy-red, - With breasts up-girt and foreheads garlanded! - With fair white foreheads nobly garlanded! - With sandalled feet that weave the magic ring - Now ... let them sing, - And I will pipe a song that all may hear, - To bid them mind the time of my wild rhyme! - Away! Away! Beware our mystic trees! - Who will not quest you, O Hesperides?... - - IV - - Great men of song, what sing ye? Woodland meadows? - Rocks, trees and rills where sunlight glints to gold? - Sing ye the hills adown whose sides blue shadows - Creep when the westering day is growing old? - Sing ye the brooks where in the purling shallows - The small fish dart and gleam? - Sing ye the pale green tresses of the willows - That stoop to kiss the stream? - - Or sing ye burning streets and sweating toil - Where we spawned swarms of men, unendingly, - Above, below, in mart and workshop’s moil - Have quite forgot thee, O mine Arcady?... - - -My Garden. - - With a copy of “Sonnets of this Century.” - - This little book, a Garden where the bloom - And fragrance of an hundred years are pent, - To thee, dear girl, at Christmas-tide is sent - By one who breathes with love the sweet perfume - Of such frail flowers. Let aye the world consume - Itself with toil and labour--such are all - Without the bounds of this my garden-wall, - And I, in light, feel not nor heed their gloom. - - Come thou into my Garden! Let me show - Thee all the treasures that do lend it grace, - These goodly Sonnets, standing in a row - To tell of joy, tears, love,--life’s madrigal; - And, mistress of the pure enchanted place, - Be thou the fairest Flower among them all!... - - -Erinnerungen. - - Schwer ist mein Herz, und heute kann ich nicht - Mehr lesen--kann nicht denken, leiden mehr. - Aus jeder Ecke kommt ein Schatten her, - Wie aus dem toten Himmel geht das Licht. - Ich sinn’ und sinn’--ich sehe ihn noch, wie er - Vor langen Jahren zartlich schaut’ mich an - Eh’ unsere reine Liebe erst begann - Langsam zu sterben, ich zu trauern sehr... - - Schwer ist mein Herz. Aus seinen Ecken auch - Kriechen die Schatten, schnell und schneller. Jetzt - Vernimmt mein müdes Ohr den ersten Hauch - Der Winternacht ... Es glimmert Strom und Wald - In dunkler Ferne ... Dies vergeht zuletzt, - Und alles endlich finster ist und kalt... - - -The Battle Royal. - - Thou Battle Royal! Kings and gentlemen - At arms, and lords have fought thee since the mists - Of time, back-rolling, show’d thy mimic lists - And pigmy warriors, mazed and harried then - As now in meshes of thy checkered strife-- - Unshielded Pawns, trim Knights and frowning Rooks - Stolid yet quick, and Bishops smug, with looks - A-squint, and King with lame yet endless life. - - Thou Battle Royal! Years unnumbered soil - Cards, draughts and dice with myriad grime-worn hands. - Thou, lov’d by dames and lords in all the lands - Of this broad world art still the world’s best play; - Where, as in life, whilst others struggle, toil, - And die, the imperious Queen controls the day! - - -España. - - “Que era, decidme, la nación que un día - Reina del mundo proclamó el destino?...” - - _Quintana--Oda a España._ - - - Where now that Nation proud which Destiny - Once did proclaim this world’s all conquering queen? - Where now that sceptre, that bright blazon seen - That mark’d her mistress over land and sea? - A lost emprise, a shattered galleon she, - Sails rent and hull agape that once have been - World-powerful; her rotting masts careen - With each dark surge of long-pent enmity. - - On through sea’s salty wastes the tempests spurn, - The waves rebuff her; lights no more there gleam - Nor vergies wave on her high carven beam. - Stilled is the sailor’s jest, the skipper’s song; - In swirling fogs of night she drives along - With Helmsman Death stark-frozen at the stern!... - - -Love’s Fear. - - Virgin art thou and pure, amid a throng - Of such sweet hallowed names as all men praise. - (Grown all too scant in these our latter days!) - To holy hours of old dost thou belong; - Saint Agnès then had heard thine even-song, - Nor left thee, darkling, in Earth’s devious ways. - Thou’rt one with that sweet sisterhood which raise - To “untouched Dian,” all clear streams along, - Their full-voiced anthem. Thou a Vestal art - At true-love’s altar. Atala, and the Maid, - And Mary all are sisters of thy blood! - Thy very name is virgin!... I, afraid, - How shall I press my kisses on thy heart, - Or loose the girdle of thy maidenhood?... - - -Longings. - - “... Nessun maggior dolore - Che ricordarsi del tempo felice - Nella miseria...” - _Inferno, V, 121._ - - Far from the sea-girt City that I love, - My wandering ways by care attended lie; - Cold is the azure of this foreign sky, - And strange these clustered stars that burn above. - Out from this loveless land would I remove - To seek thy spring Pierian, never-dry, - Thou thrice-crowned City! Hear my fainting cry. - Let not my passionate longing fruitless prove! - Would I once more might see the dome of gold - Burning aloft, beneath my native sky! - The river, winding near my home of old, - And once again to breathe before I die, - The evening breeze, may it be granted me, - In that fair city by the distant sea!... - - -The Eighth Ode of the Fourth Book of Horace. - -TO C. MARTIUS CENSORINUS. - - “Donarem pateras grataque commodus...” - - Freely to my companions would I give - Beautiful bronzes, Censorinus, bowls - And tripods, once a guerdon to the souls - Of hardy Greeks; nor should’st thou bear away - The meanest of my gifts, could I but live - Possessed of arts like those Parrhasius plied, - Or Skopas, now depicting human clay - And now a god, in liquid colors one - In solid stone the other. But denied - To me are equal powers; need hast thou none - In mind or state for treasures like to these. - Thou dost delight in songs, and such are mine - To give, and fix a value to each song. - Not marbles carved with public elegies, - Whence to illustrious leaders still belong - In dreamless death their praises half divine, - Not the precipitate flights of Hannibal - Nor those retorted threats that wrought him shame, - Not impious Carthage and her flaming fall - More highly show, than the Calabrian Muse, - Glories of him who, having gained a name - From prostrate conquered Africa, returned. - Neither if writings should perchance refuse - To herald forth what thou so well hast earned - Wouldst thou have fitting praise. What were the son - Of Mars and Ilia, if in jealousy - Silence had drowned those lofty merits won - By Romulus? Through eloquence, through strength - And favor of all poets loved of fame, - Aeacus hallowed is, from Stygian floods, - To the fair Islands of the Blest at length. - - The Muse forbids the worthy man to die; - She blesseth him with Heaven. Thus Hercules, - Untiring victor, finds a place on high - At Jove’s desired feasts. Tyndareus’ sons, - Clear-shining stars, thus from the deepest seas - Rescue the shattered ships. Thus Bacchus fair, - Twining his temples with fresh vine-leaves green, - To fruitful issue brings the votaries’ prayer. - - -Ricordatevi Di Me! - -(_Terza Rima._) - - If ever thou shouldst cease to think of me - With love, and turn thy soul’s sweet warmth to ice-- - (Stop not my mouth with kisses! Change may be, - - As all do know who take for their device - A bleeding heart!)--If any change should seal - To me the gates of uttermost Paradise, - - And I should darkling fare, with no repeal, - In company of them, that, love forsaken, - Before cold shrines and at dead altars kneel, - - Remember this--I bade thy heart awaken; - Here in this hand it lay a prisoner! - Thy first wild love-kiss from my lips was taken, - - And with my breath thy first sighs mingled were! - Remember this--I loved thee well and long, - Thou haven to me, a time-worn wanderer! - - Then, though my voice be drowned in that clear song - Of thy new love, and I forgotten be - Or all-despisèd, think thou in my wrong - - Some good there was, some truth akin with thee, - Some light half-seen, since I could tune a soul - Virgin as thine to perfect harmony, - And crown thy brow with Love’s pure aureole! - - -The Tower. - - I - - There lies a City of Unnumbered Dead - Where paths entwine, where hills and valleys be, - And still, black pools; the cypress mystically - Shrouds those dark ways. There living souls may tread - With but slow steps and rare. With slow steps, led - By Love two lovers passed; they spake, and she - Cast down her mystic eyes lest he might see - In their vague depths the image of her dread. - - A great round-tower of granite crowns that land. - Thither they came, and now her starry eyes - Were raised to his; that dread which wrought them ill - Behind them with the frozen dead lay chill. - Up the enchanted stairway hand in hand - They passed, and issued forth to see the skies. - - II - - And yet their sweetest moment did not seem - That dizzying issue into tenuous light, - Where the keen salt-sea wind that lashed their height - Drowned their love-quickened breath as in a stream - Of chill, on-rushing æther; not the gleam - Of multitudinous Ocean, nor the bright - Expanse of Earth could draw their dazzled sight - From the new glory of their passionate dream. - - It was upon the tower’s midmost stair - At one dim diamond-window; both beguiled - Paused in the gloom; she trembled like a child; - His hot mouth found her mouth, her gold-twined hair, - And in her milk-white breast her heart beat wild - Beneath one burning kiss he printed there. - - -Love’s Prayer. - - When thy ripe lips in kisses mould to meet - Mine eager mouth--when thy full pulsing throat - Throbs with thy quickening life-breath--when the float - And tangle of thine ungirt hair, oh Sweet, - Entwines us, breast to breast, the perfumed heat - Of each wild sigh fans all my face aflame, - And beat to beat our passionate hearts the same - Responses cry, as we Love’s creed repeat. - - When in each other’s arms, love-wearied, we - Both nested safe in silken cushions warm - - At Winter-evenfall entrancèd lie, - Kissing but closer as we list the storm, - Then pray we, midst our sweet antiphony - But this--that love like ours may never die!... - - -“Combien J’ai Douce Souvenance...!” - -(_After Chateaubriand_) - - Oh sweet, how sweet old memories be - Of one most lovely place, to me-- - My birthplace! Sister, fair those days - And free! - Oh France, be thou my love, my praise - Always! - - Our mother--hath thy memory flown?-- - Beside our humble chimney-stone - Pressed us against her heart, whilst you, - Dear one, - And I her white hair kissed anew, - We two. - - Sweet little sister, dost recall - The stream that bathed the castle-wall? - The old round-tower whence came alway - The call - Of bells to banish night away - At day? - - Dost thou recall the lake--how still!-- - Where swallows skimmed at their sweet will? - The reeds, swayed by the gentle air - Until - The sun set on the waters there, - So fair? - - Oh, who will give me my Helène? - My mountains, my great oak again? - Their memory brings with all my days - Fresh pain; - My land shall be my love, my praise - Always! - - -My Little Red Devil and I. - - “The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.” - - _Twelfth Night._ - - My little Red Devil upon my desk - With a smile sardonic stands. - He holds my pen with a patient air - In his crooked, outstretched hands; - The paint is worn from his hoof and horn - And scratched is his curving tail, - Yet he still holds on with a right good grace, - A knowing look on his crafty face, - And spirits that never fail. - - So, what if his fingers are some of them gone, - And twisted the horns on his head? - His cheek still glows, and his aquiline nose - Is a genuine devilish red; - And his tail, beside, is a thing of pride, - For it swings in a glorious sweep, - With a graceful bend and a fork in the end - That would cause a sinner his ways to mend, - Or a saint, his vows to keep! - - Though only a single eye has he - The world and the flesh to view, - (For the right is gone,) yet the other one - Has fire enough for two. - So his eyes ill-mated an air jocund - To his wrinkled features lend, - And to see his look you would almost think - That he was tipping a devilish wink - To his old, familiar friend. - - Oh, he is a jolly good fellow, in truth, - With a wit that is ever new, - And a heart like which, in this world of ours, - There are only, I fear, too few. - And he doesn’t complain when I come in late - Or keep him awake o’ nights, - So I have respect for his comfort, too, - By giving the Devil his utmost due, - And the whole of his royal rights. - - To everyone else but myself his smile - Is fixed as the solid stone; - He changes the curve of his parted lips - For me, and for me alone. - So when I’m in luck he wishes me joy - With his whole Satanic heart, - But when I’ve the blues, it seems he would say - “Brace up, for the luck will be better some day!” - And my cares like the wind depart. - - So my Devil and I are the best of friends - In a sort of a cynical way, - For he watches me out of his only eye - As I work at my desk each day, - And the idle verses I write in hope, - He quietly smiles to see, - For he knows full well that at first or last, - Like Biblical bread on the waters cast, - They will surely come back to me... - - And at night, as I sit by the ruddy hearth, - With my pipe and my book, alone, - Or lazily muse by the embers red - When the light of the fire is gone, - I think of him sometimes, and hope in my heart - I never shall see the day - That sets me adrift from my little friend - And puts to our sociable life an end, - By taking my Devil away!... - - -The College Pump. - - In Summertide, beneath high-vaulted shade, - In Winter, frosted all with glistering rime, - In chanting Spring, or Autumn’s sullen time - When sodden leaves their tawny beds have made-- - Alike when spendthrift Sun his gold afar - Downthrows, or earth lies shrouded all in cold, - By evil men and good, by young, by old, - In every season blessed thy waters are. - - Grandsires and children drink with solaced eyes. - Dazed revellers early come with thirsty shame - Beneath gray glimmering of the sober skies. - All day men pause; and some, at eventide, - Poets, have hallowed with their touch thy name, - And with their lips thy waters sanctified. - - -I Disputanti. - - La mia Ragione sento disputare - Col Core sempre--“Dopo crudel Morte,” - L’una dice, “con la sua man si forte - Il lume della vita spegni, io andare - Nel Buio credo...” L’altro poi; “Amare - È non morir. Il mio alto Fattore - Non puo voler che questo dolce fiore - Del mio affetto muoia...” “Io parlare - Del ‘Credo’ tuo non so; ma non c’è vita - Futura non c’è Dio. La Cagione - È l’Caso, solamente...” “È l’Amore, - L’Amore, quella via giammai smarrita, - Perduta mai...” Sempre così col Core - Io sento disputar la mia Ragione... - - -“Quand Vous Serez Bien Vieille...” - - Ronsard. - - Thou (being sometime old), by candlelight - Close crouched by the fire, spinning and mumbling o’er - The past, shalt croon my verses, marvelling more - That Ronsard sang thy praise, what time thy bright - First beauty was. Then, hearing thee recite - Such thing, thy drowsy maid, though weary-sore - And nodding off to sleep, shall wake before - My name and thine, with blessings infinite. - - I under earth shall be, a soul in vain - Seeking its rest where myrtle shadows play; - Thou by the hearthstone cringe, outworn and blear, - My love regretting and thy cold disdain. - Live! an thou hear’st me! Wait no other day! - Gather life’s roses ere thy night be near! - - -One Summer Night. - - The Fens, June, 1897. - - Far in the west the crescent moon hung low, - A filmy haze about it faintly spread, - And one bright star, a point of silver light - Seem’d comrade to it. Whispering Zephyrus - Tender as love, stole through the list’ning leaves, - Making a pleasant murmur in the night, - And touched the glimmering waters with his breath. - The ripples came unnumbered to the shore, - Soft-murmuring through the sedge and fenny reeds - With that same whisp’ring voice that Pan once heard - What time he first made pipes to sound the praise - Of her whom he had lost. The water’s breast - Was banded with a path of shimmering light - Broken by the ever-restless waves, which made - A thousand points of liquid brilliancy. - And in the beauty of still, hallowed night - Beside the plashing sandy shore, we met - In happiness. Each whispering of the wind, - Each tremulous leaf, and even the sleeping flowers - Seem’d breathing “Love” in tender unison, - And the sphered star in Heaven sang that word. - Dost thou remember how from out the grass, - I plucked a gentle flow’ret by that shore, - --Anemone some call it, wind-flower some, - Sprung from the crimson of Adonis’ blood - Where he was slain,--and how I softly said, - “O thou belovèd, beauty is a rose - Growing in Life’s fair garden, by the spring - Of deathless Purity, and that clear dew - Which lies within its sweetness hid, is Love.” - Dost thou recall? And so it chance, I pray - Though we be parted, now and evermore, - Think sometimes of that night, and fancy still - We see the summer landscape, glimmering, - Lit by the steady-burning lights of heaven, - We scent the sweetness of the warm young night, - We hold the tender wind-flower, and still hear - The murmuring ripples on the sounding shore. - - -A Une Fleurette - - Fleurette! Sur sa poitrine si blanche et belle - Combien sens-tu de joie! Quel insensé bon heur - Que de t’y prélasser doucement toute une heure! - Sur ses seins arrondis, là, serrée tout contre elle, - Tu respires son être. Une volupté telle - Que moi j’en sentirais, là, si près de son coeur, - Sur ces deux petits monts de neige, heureuse fleur - Tu ressens... Ta mort, même, ô fleurette, est un ciel! - - Dieu! Que je suis las de tout ce monde de peine - Et de ses vanités et de ses maux! Toujours - Te veut mon âme inquiète. Donne-moi ô Reine - Du royaume désert de mon coeur, mes amours, - Comme à cette fleurette ta poitrine aimée - Pour y dormir toujours, à toute éternité!... - - -Blest Be the Day. - -THE XXXIXTH SONNET OF PETRARCH TO HIS LADY LAURA. - - He blesseth all the divers causes and effects of his love toward her. - - Blest be the day, the season and the year - The hour and moment, and the countrie fair, - Ay, even that very spot and instant where - Those two sweet eyne did first to me appear - Which since have left me--yet that sorrow dear - Of Love still blessèd be, like as the bow - And shafts wherewith sweet Love did work me woe - With wounds most deep in this my bosom here. - - Blest be the many voices wherewithal - I on my Lady’s well-belovèd name - Have called, and blest the sighs, the tears, the flame - Of my desire, and all my screeds designed - To praise her--yet most blest my thoughts I call, - So hers that none but she may entrance find... - - -“Mignonne Allons Voir Si La Rose....” - - After Ronsard. - - Come, sweet, away! Come see the rose, - Now that the day draws near its close, - See whether it be faded grown-- - Whether at evening fall away - Those leaves that opened to the day, - Or dies their blush, so like thine own. - - Thou seest, dear love, its beauties pass, - Its wasted petals fall, alas!, - In one short hour. It may not bide. - Unkind in truth is Mother Earth - Since dawn gives such a flower its birth - And Death draws nigh at eventide. - - So, sweet my darling, hear my voice, - I bid thee, in thy youth, rejoice! - Before thy fragile petals close - Gather thy blossoms whilst thou may, - With time they fall and fade away - As droops at night the withered rose. - - -Religion. - - From that crude savage who, on Libyan sands, - Graves his barbaric god, and kneels thereto; - From those mysterious, matriarchal bands, - Eating strange flesh their spirit to renew - With fabled ancestors; from Austral lands - To Hyperborean solitudes, each age - Hath sought to fend its head from God’s dull rage - And stay the cosmic circling with clasped hands. - - Yea, we no less! Doth man dare look away - Bravely as fits a man? With fear-sealed eyes, - Filling the spheres with vast, vague mysteries, - Man still must hearken some great angel’s wing, - Still bow to man-made God, still seek to stay - With claspèd hands the cosmic circling... - - -The Great Woods Were Awakening. - - “Les grands bois s’éveillaient; il faisait jour à peine...” - - _Pradel._ - - The great woods were awakening. A new day - Was freshly born; enchanted birds among - The clear green foliage raised their matin song - To praise the morning-glow. Thought-sad I lay - Beneath a gnarlèd oak; despite that gay - Fresh springtide, all my soul was suffering. - I waited her, and lo! the rapid wing - Of fluttering footsteps brushed the dew away. - - Drunken with pleasure in a long-locked kiss - Our breath enmingled. Tightening in my arms - That beautiful, supple form, her heart’s alarms - I stifled on my heart. The thicket drew - Close over us, the sun grew dark, I wis, - Earth faded, Heaven opened to our view... - - -I-N-R-I. - - With bleeding brows beneath a thorn-meshed crown, - With swollen hands fast bound in leathern thong, - I saw One stand amid a surging throng - That spat on Him and strove to drag Him down. - On His bowed back the ridg’d welts scarlet lay - Traced long with bloody dew. His haggard face - Was streaked with sweat and blood, as in that place - He silent stood and silent gazed away. - Once more that One I saw, still garlanded - With mocking thorns. Through either bleeding hand - And through both patient feet a mangling nail - Was driven deep. Some cursed, some laughed, cried “Hail, - God crucified!...” And some crouched low in dread - And wept, and thunderous darkness filled the land... - - -Fayre Robyn.[B] - - Fayre Robyn he rad owre the brae, - Hys steede he was a wighty browne; - The countrie a’ lay at hys back, - Hys eyen were to the toune. - - Bauld Robyn owre the brae did ride, - Nor yet a Horde nor yerle was he, - But mae than ony nobleman - Hys fayreness was to see. - - And Robyn rad adoun the brae, - And cam yth High Strete; - A gentil pace hys horse hadde - Whych was baith goode and meete. - - The Shyreff’s dauter sate yth wane - And luikt out o’ the window round, - Therebye Robyn rad and sang, - A braw and pleasant sound. - - She luikt upon hys goodely forme - He luikt a’ in hir deepe blue yee; - Robyn doft hys bonnet; a rose to hym - She dropit for replye. - - Leeve may o meete me bye the yett, - And a’ taegither we will flie. - I’ll meete thee when the nyghte be com, - So ryde again soone bye. - - She’s met hym when the nyghte was com, - And a’ taegither they hae fled, - Now gin the Shyreff com, most sure - They maun baith be dead. - - The hae na gane a league, a league, - A league nor barely ane, - When Robyn saith now by my bloode - They’re reasin a’ the toon. - - They hae na gane anither league, - A league nor barely twa, - When they do heare a not ffar off - Some bernes that them pursue. - - The be com unto a great roke; - Ye faith it was baith deepe and wide. - The Shyreff’s bernes byn sonygh - The maun plunge them in the tyde. - - They’ve plunged them in the cauld water, - The spait was ful swift bye; - Now byr Ladye, quoth the may, - Methinks we baith maun dee. - - They’ve plunged them into the cauld roke; - The hors they rade sank doun. - A’ yth black water then - The baith were neere to droune. - - He bare hir firme in hys left arme - And swam a’ wi’ his right: - When the cam to yearth againe - The bernes byn in sight. - - The bernes rad the roke along - And saw Robyn’s bonnet on the tide. - Now be the baith to bottom gane, - Ther may the bide! - - The Shyreff turned him home again, - Turned back and went awaie, - But Robyn and His Ladye ffayre - Were wed the nextin daye. - - -Coeur de Femme. - - I cannot think that woman love as we - Love them, with soul and body, breath and blood, - And spent soul tortured in the strangling flood - Of passion’s tense oblivious agony; - I cannot think the kiss She gives to me - Thrills her white body as it pulses mine, - Or in Love’s chalice of ambrosial wine - She drowns all things which were or are to be. - - We please them with our smile, for they are vain - And Love a flatterer is; they joy to fling - A rose-entwinèd leash about their slave; - Purple and gold they take, and winnowed grain - Of gems from Hesperus’ isle,--all men will bring; - But _Love_--lies bleeding by a woman’s grave! - - - - -BALLADES & RONDEAUX - - -Ballade of the Sick. - - Can these be men, that lie so still, so white? - Whose hopeless eyes yearn things they cannot say? - Who scarce can part the daytime from the night - Save that the night drags heavier than the day? - Have these a listening God, to whom they pray? - God hears not such, nor cares, right well know I, - For nameless things I learn through long delay, - On this strait bed where I perforce must lie. - I learn of life-in-death; I learn the blight - Of seeing my soul and body slow decay, - Hemmed in with white-walled nothingness. The flight - Of vagrant flies, the sunlight’s sluggish way - Of crawling on--yes, even the shadows gray - Help tease the laggard moments loathly by. - Since great are none, small things my pain allay - On this strait bed where I perforce must lie. - I learn to see, nor shrink from any sight. - That deathmask yonder--carrion mass of clay-- - Hath but a bleeding scrap of lung, to fight - The ghastly death that knows nor truce nor stay. - The Polack, old through pains that tear and flay, - Will go next sennight--how these swart folk die! - Last week they found one, waxen-cold for aye, - On this strait bed where I perforce must lie. - - ENVOY - - “This too will pass!” my comfort be alway. - Hell is forgot of them that chant on high; - Yet have I seen such things no man should say, - On this strait bed where I perforce must lie... - - -Three Rondeaux from Charles d’Orléans. - -I. - -LE TEMPS A LAISSIÉ SON MANTEAU. - - Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall - Of biting windes and cold and rain, - And well hath dight himself again - In sunlight shining cleare on all; - - Creatures be none, nor birds, but call - One to another their own refrain: - Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall - Of biting windes and cold and rain. - - Fountaines and brooks moste musical - Their fayrest dress to wear be fain; - With silvern drops and golde, amain, - Each newlie decks hymself withall; - Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall. - -II. - -DIEU! QU’IL LA FAIT BON REGARDER! - - Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze, - All-gracious, fayre and sweet of mien; - Such virtues be in her y-seen - All men stand ready with their praise. - - Who then could weary of her ways? - Her beautie flowereth ever green; - Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze, - All-gracious, fayre and sweet of mien. - - This side or yon of Ocean’s maze - Nor dame nor damozel, I ween - So wholly parfaict yet hath been-- - A dream, to think on her always: - Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze!... - -III. - -LES FOURRIERS D’ESTE SONT VENUS. - - Ye maides in waiting all be here - Of Summertide, to deck her hall, - To hang her arras, woven all - With golden flowers and verdure clear; - - To stretch her carpet far and near - Of soft green moss o’er stone and wall; - Ye maides in waiting all be here - Of Summertide, to deck her hall. - - Hearts that but late were cold and drear - Now (prais’d be God!), their joy recall; - Come, come away, with snow-wrapped pall! - Out on thee, Winter, old and blear! - Ye maides in waiting all be here... - - -The Song of the Poor. - - “O Rois qui serez jugés à votre tour.” - - _Banville._ - - O kings, who must yourselves be judged one day, - Think of the wretched poor that ever stand - On Famine’s edge, and pity them! They pray - For you and love you; drudging till your land, - And, toiling, fill your coffers--they withstand - Your enemies; yet damned on earth they fare, - Woe infinite and endless pain they bear; - Not one there is but knows the keen distress - Of cold, of heat, and rain and ceaseless care, - For to the poor all things are bitterness. - - Even as a beast of burden, scourged amain, - The wretched peasant lives his hopeless life. - Does he but pluck his grapes, or dare refrain - An hour from drudging toil, and choose a wife - To share the sorrow of his unequal strife,-- - His lord, a savage bird of prey, draws nigh; - - Relentless comes, and, saying “Here am I!” - Seizes what little he may chance possess. - Nothing avails the vassal’s pleading cry, - For to the poor all things are bitterness. - - Pity the wretched jester in your halls! - Think on the fisher when the black waves curl - Their frothing tongues, and crackling lightning falls - On his frail boat! Pity the blue-eyed girl, - Lowly and dreaming, as her young hands whirl - The droning wheel! Think of a mother’s pain - And torment, as she weeps and seeks in vain, - Holding her fair dead child in blind distress, - To warm its cold heart back to life again. - O, to the poor all things are bitterness. - - ENVOI. - - Mercy for these thine own, oh Prince, I cry! - Peace to thy vassal ’neath his darkened sky, - Peace to the pale nun, praying passionless, - And to all such as lowly live and die-- - For to the poor all things are bitterness. - - -Kyrielle. - - Nay, not for me the toil and strife - Of ’Change, of war, of public life-- - Than go with Fame, I’d rather stay - With books, and pipe and dear Edmée. - - A little garden?... Well, perchance, - If weedless flowers, self-raising plants - Would grow therein, where I might stray - With books, and pipe and dear Edmée. - - Horses and dogs?... Yes, I’d not mind - Were I but ever sure to find - An hour of peace, at close of day - With books, and pipe and dear Edmée. - - Travel?... Of course! The Frank might stare, - The Russian rave, the Turk despair; - I none the less would them survey - With books, and pipe and dear Edmée. - - But homeward-longing ever, I - Still for our low-built house would sign, - Where I might peaceful be for aye - With books, and pipe and dear Edmée. - - Old books and many, pipe not new, - Edmée all mine, forever, too, - I’d love them all till I were grey, - But best and dearest, dear Edmée!... - - -Rondeau. - - Thy breast, dear Doris, ever be - All-hallowed, consecrate to me, - A rest where this my heart may go - Whatever tempests beat and blow; - A shelter that my soul may see - Though all the world speak grievously. - Warmed in its softness, dear, by thee, - My love shall sometime come to know - Thy breast. - - And sometime, too, so reverently - Thou couldst not, Sweet, refuse my plea. - I’ll kiss the dimple that I know - Betwixt those little hills of snow - Waits, till my lips press passionately - Thy breast!... - - -When I First Saw Edmée - - (Villanelle.) - - When I first saw Edmée - She was clad all in blue. - A cold colour, you say? - - Yes, I thought so, that day, - And my hopes were but few - When I first saw Edmée; - - Now, of azure array - I’ve quite altered my view-- - A cold colour, you say? - - Is the sky cold in May? - How little I knew, - When I first saw Edmée. - - All the sweetness there lay - In the shade that means “true!”... - A cold colour, you say? - - Ah, my heart’s quite away. - The sad moment I rue - When I first saw Edmée. - A _cold_ colour, you say?... - - -My Old Coat. - - “Sois-moi fidèle, ô pauvre habit que j’aime.” - - _Béranger._ - - Be ever true to me, thou well-loved coat, - For we are growing old together now, - These ten long years I’ve brushed thee every day - Myself; great Socrates the Sage, I trow - Had not done better! And if remorseless Fate - Gnaw with sharp tooth that poor, thin cloth of thine, - Resist, say I, with calm philosophy, - Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine! - - How I recall--(for even now I’m bless’d - With a good memory!), that glad day of days - When first I wore thee! It was at my feast; - My friends to crown my glory, sang thy praise. - Thy poverty and age that honor me - Have not yet made their early love decline-- - They’re ready still to feast us once again. - Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine! - - Have I perfumed thee with those floods of musk, - Which the vain fop exhales before his glass? - Have I exposed thee, waiting audience, - To scorn and laughter of the great who pass? - Just for a paltry ribbon, all fair wide France - Was rent apart, but simply I combine - A few sweet wild-flowers for thine ornament. - Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine!... - - Fear nevermore those days of struggling vain, - When the same lowly destiny was ours; - Those days of pleasure intermix’d with pain, - Of sunny sky o’ercast by April showers. - Soon comes the night, for evening shadows fall, - And soon forever must I my coat resign. - Wait yet a little, together we’ll end it all, - And never part, thou dear old friend of mine!... - - -A Pantoum. - - Here I must lie on my bed, - Longing for health again. - Crazy thoughts whirl in my head, - Mix with that endless pain. - - Longing for health again-- - Dreams of walking once more - Mix with that endless pain. - Lying in bed is a bore! - - Dreams of walking once more, - After these months of repression, - Lying in bed is a bore - Past any means of expression! - - After these months of repression, - To wander, and study, and revel... - Past any means of expression, - Pain, you’re a villainous devil! - - To wander, and study, and revel, - To eat, drink, and live like a man... - (Pain, you’re a villainous devil!...) - With never a doctor to ban-- - - To eat, drink, and live like a man, - To wander in meadow and wood, - With never a doctor to ban - Those things that I know to be good... - - To wander in meadow and wood, - With Someone, enjoying October, - Those things that I know to be good, - The sky, be it sunny or sober. - - With Someone, enjoying October, - To see the gay trees and the hills, - The sky, be it sunny or sober, - With a curse on all doctors and pills... - - To see the gay trees and the hills, - Hope is quick faded and fled. - With a curse on all doctors and pills, - Here I must lie on my bed!... - - -When Doris Deigns. - - When Doris deigns to gaze on me - All happy thoughts be mine; - Her eyes are two twin stars, I wis, - Bright in my soul they shine; - No earth-born flower one half so fair - As she, no joy can aught compare - With my sweet fire of love, perdie, - When Doris deigns to gaze on me! - - When Doris deigns to smile on me - The whole world brighter grows; - A clearer azure takes the sky, - A deeper blush the rose; - The circling lark upon the wing - A sweeter, purer song doth sing, - And just a bit of Heav’n I see, - When Doris deigns to smile on me! - - - - -THE YEAR - - -Spring. - -MAY EVENING. - - Silence and peace. The warm, love-bringing Night - From the pure zenith soft and slow descending - Lulls the sweet air to rest, with the day’s ending, - Save where the dark bat wheels his fickle flight. - Deep glows the rosy-golden West, still bright, - Beyond the plumy toss of elms down-bending, - Whilst on the close-cut lawns, blurring and bending, - Tall chapel-windows cast their ruddy light. - - Now the clear blue of the mid dome of heaven - Darkens, immeasurably deep and still. - That one full star which ushers in the even - Burns in rapt glory o’er the steadfast spire; - And the Night-angel strews at his sweet will - The silvern star-dust of the heavenly choir. - - -Summer. - -AUGUST RAIN. - - Dead is the day, and through the list’ning leaves - The wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit pane - I darkling sit to hear the pattering rain - And pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves. - Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves, - Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty lane - Leads down its trickling rivulet to drain - Marsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves. - - Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place, - And dusk to silent darkness falls again. - Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face, - I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills, - And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane, - The rain-swept valley and the fading hills... - - -Autumn - -NOVEMBER IN CAMBRIDGE. - - Even in her mourning is the College fair, - With burial robes of scarlet leaves and gold - That flicker down in misty morning cold - Or fall reluctant through gray evening air. - The Gothic elms rise desolately bare; - A clinging flame the twisted ivy crawls - Its blood-red course athwart the time-worn walls - And spreads its crimson arras everywhere. - - High noon brings some wan ghost of summer, still; - Fresh stand the rose-trees yet, the lawns show green - With leaves inlaid, and still the pigeons fly - Round sun-warm gables where they court and preen; - But evenfall comes shuddering down, a-chill, - And bare black branches fret the leaden sky. - - -Winter. - -HAMPTON HOLIDAYS. - - Last comes December with his ruffian wind - Whirled from the maelstrom of the polar sea - To sweep our mighty hill in mockery - Of such enshrouding snows as would be kind - And wrap their frozen mother. Stiffly lined - Through thin and crackling ice the leaves lie stark - As hoar Caina’s ice-locked souls, and dark - In the dark air the branches toss and grind. - - Then dawns another day when winds are still; - From our frost-flashing village on the hill - We greet the laggard sun, and far below - All down the valley see the silver spread, - Save where the dim fir-forest’s pungent bed - Lies thatched by tufted pine-plumes bright with snow. - - - - -MORS OMNIUM VICTOR - - -Gunga Din in Hell. - - “An’ I’ll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din!” - - _Kipling._ - - Green crawling slime, that bubbles clotted blood; - White wraiths of fetid steam that rise and curl, - And blood-red mist, convolving in a swirl - Of lurid heat, o’er that putrescent flood; - And under all, a seething, rotting mud-- - Torn souls that once were men--flayed, bleeding souls, - Souls drenched with gore from gangrenous bullet-holes, - Green, sightless eyes--and blood, and blood, and blood! - - Lo! Gunga Din! He cometh smeared with gore - That dribbles from cleft forehead to the skin - Of putrid drink, one black foot on Hell’s shore, - One in the slime. A flayed hand toward him grasps, - And one blind, shattered head that bleeds for sin - Bloats forth its purple tongue in strangling gasps. - - -Cui Bono? - - Nay, vex me not with dead theologies, - With creeds outworn and vain polemic strife; - To solve the riddles of some future life - Why chill my soul with stark philosophies? - What then to me is Aristoteles, - Plato, or he who had the shrewish wife - (Small blame to her!), or Pyrrho’s doubtings, rife - With contradiction’s maziest subtleties? - - Only one thing is sure--they all are dead; - Sere theologians, wranglers of the schools, - Philosophers and creedsmen have surcease - From war, their dust no better than the fools’ - Wherewith ’tis mingled undistinguishèd. - - So, vex me not, but go your ways in peace... - - -The Bride-Bed. - - She died and by her bed I sat all night. - I had no tears; it was o’er soon to weep - In those first hours; my heart was cleft too deep - For pain to harbor there. A waning light - From the old moon englorified her bright - And unadornèd hair, a heavy braid - Across her breast. I watched her, unafraid - To warm that leaden hand so waxen-white. - - This was her Bride-bed--Death her lover was - As she had promised I sometime should be. - She lay entwinèd in his arms, and I - Kept watch, and a great cold came over us... - - At last the untroubled stars that gazed on me - Waxed pale and faded in the morning sky. - - -Dead Loves. - - Long summer nights with moon that yearneth down - On endless passion, through uncounted years, - On flames of love more hot than all those tears - Of ardent pain it worketh aye can drown; - Long summer nights in vast Assyria’s town, - At white-walled Athens, in imperial Rome, - Or midst dim Northern forests, by the foam - Of seas unsailed ere Arthur won renown. - - Moonlight and leafshade--nights full sweet and long: - “O Love, my love, how white thy breast! Thy kiss - Upon my mouth, how mad!”--“And thou, how strong - Thine arms! I fear thy passion!”--“Tell me, must - Not Time and Death bow down to love like this?...” - - Now, even their graves are crumbled into dust. - - -Death, the Friend. - - Full long these dreary weeks of dule I spend - On this my narrow bed of bitter pain. - Alike to me are sunshine, cloud or rain, - The day’s beginning or its sombre end; - Even sleep itself doth little comfort lend, - For in vast dreams the torment comes again - Vague and distorted by my feverish brain - Until I wake and long for Death the Friend. - - Death! I do fear that empty, breathless Night - Thou bringest, not the sweat and agony, - The struggling breath, the terror or the sight - Of Earth and all my being leaving me; - For couldst thou promise an awakening-- - Then, Death, enfold me with thy shadowy wing!... - - -La Jeune Fille. - - “Elle était bien belle, le matin, sans atours!” - - How fair, at dawn, how simply did she go, - Watching her new-born garden flowrets thrive, - Spying her bees in their ambrosial hive, - Ling’ring beside each hedge and hawthorn row! - - How fair at eventide lead on the maze - Of the mad dance, whilst in her massy hair - Sapphires and roses woven crowned more fair - That face illumined by the torches’ blaze! - - How fair was she beneath her pure soft veil, - Outfloating wide upon the listening night; - Silent we stood and far, to watch that sight, - Happy to glimpse her in the starlight pale. - - How fair was she! Each day some sweetness gave, - Some vague dear hope, pure thoughts and free from care. - Love, love was all she lacked, to grow more fair. - Peace!... Through the fields they bear her to the grave!... - - -Lucie. - - Mes chers amis, quand je mourrai, - Plantez un saule au cimetière. - J’aime son feuillage éploré, - La pâleur m’en est douce et chère, - Et son ombre sera légère - A la terre où je dormirai. - _Alfred de Musset._ - - Dear friends belovèd, when I die, - Plant near my grave a willow-tree. - I love its pale, down-drooping leaves, - Its grace is sweet and dear to me, - And light its tender shade will be - Upon the green earth where I lie... - - One night we were alone and by her side - I sat, she drooped her head and as a-dream - Over the spinet let her fair hand glide. - So soft the murmur was it scarce could seem - More than a zephyr whispering in the reeds, - Soft moving lest the birds, warm-nested there - Should hear and wake. The soft, voluptuous air - Of that sweet summer night breathed forth to us - From flowery chalices beside the glimmering stream. - Far in the silent grove the chestnut-trees - And ancient oaks swayed their sad branches slow; - We sat and, listening to the amorous breeze, - Through the half-opened casement let the low - Sweet breath of Spring float in. The winds were still, - The plain deserted. All alone we were - And very young... Lucie was blonde and pale - And pensive. As I musing gazed on her - No sweeter eyes than hers e’er pierced the deep - Of purest heaven, or mirrored back its blue. - I with her beauty drunken was; in all - The world I loved but her, and yet so true - So pure she was I loved her as one loves - A sister, in all innocence. We two - Sat silent and alone; my hand touched hers, - I watched the dreams upon her face and knew - In my own soul how strong to heal distress - Are those twin signs of peace and happiness, - Youth in the heart, youth mirrored on the brow. - The moon, uprising in the cloudless skies, - With silver fret-work flooded her, and now - Her smile became an angel’s smile; she sang, - Seeing her image shining in mine eyes. - - * * * * * - - Daughter of sorrow, Harmony! Harmony! - Sweet speech for love by Nature set apart! - To us thou camest from Italy--to her - From Heaven. Sweet language of the heart, - In thee alone that maiden, Thought, afraid - And hurt by even a passing cloud, may speak, - Yet keep her modest veil, and sheltered be. - Who knows the mysteries that a child may hear - And utter in thy sighs divine, like thee - Born of the air he breathes, sweet as his voice, - And sad as his sad heart? A glance, a tear - Is seen, yet all the rest is mystery - Unknown to the careless world, like that of waves, - Of night, or of the unfathomed wilderness... - We were alone and sad; I looked on her. - The dying echo of her song seemed still - To vibrate in our souls. All passionless - Drooping upon my heart, she leaned her head. - The cry of Desdemona didst thou hear - In thee, dear girl? I know not--only this, - That thou didst weep, and on thine all-adored - Sweet mouth in sadness let me press mine own; - Thy sorrow was it that received my kiss... - So kissed I thee, all cold and colourless; - So, two short months being sped, wert thou - Laid in the grave; so didst thou fade in death - Oh my chaste flower! And thy dying was - A smile as sweet as thy fair life had been. - God took thee pure as when He gave thee breath. - - * * * * * - - Sweet mystery of the home of innocence, - Songs, dreams of love, laughter and childish words, - And thou, all-conquering charm, unknown and mild, - - Yet strong to make even Faustus pause before - The sill of Marguerite at thy command, - Where are you all? Peace to thy soul, oh child! - Profoundest peace be to thy memories! - Farewell! On summer nights thy fair white hand - Will rest no more upon the ivory keys... - - * * * * * - - Dear friends belovèd, when I die, - Plant near my grave a willow-tree. - I love its pale, down-drooping leaves - Its grace is sweet and dear to me, - And light its tender shade will be. - Upon the green earth where I lie.... - - -Luctus in Morte Passeris. - - “Lugete, O Veneres Cupidenesque, et quantum est hominum venustiorum.” - - _C. Valerius Catullus._ - - I bid you all, ye Loves and Cupids, mourn, - With what of pitying kindness men may know. - - The sparrow of my little maid forlorn - Ay, even my sweetheart’s sparrow, cherished so, - (Loved like her very eyes, ah heavy woe!) - Is dead. Full sweet was he, and knew her well - As she her mother knew, nor long would stray - From her fair breast, save here to hop, or there; - His pretty pipings were for her alway. - Yet now he wings the shadowy gloom of Hell, - Whence none return to breathe Earth’s pleasant air. - - But curses on thee, dark and evil shade - So to engulf all things that lovely be! - Thou’st robbed her sparrow from my little maid; - (Alas the crime, the sparrow stark and dead!) - And now with swollen eyes, because of thee - She weeps, alack, nor will be comforted. - - -Death in December. - - I. - - With roses will I strew our bed - Where all thine own thou madest me; - With rose-wreaths I entwine thy head - So dear, so dead. - - This is Love’s inmost place, where we - Learned and with madness learned again - And knew Love’s passionate agony - That wasteth me. - - Now is thy room and mine Death’s room, - And this our bed (O burning kiss!) - Is made Death’s icy bed. The tomb - Shrouds it in gloom. - - * * * * * - - II. - - The snow beats up about the pane - Where once we watched the August night, - And wild mad winds drive on amain - Across the plain. - - * * * * * - - III. - - Alone!... Alone? Beneath my heart - Fainting I feel our new life beat, - Where our lives, joined, though dead thou art, - Share each a part. - - On thy clear temples, bleeding-red - The rose-wreaths twine, the flowers die. - With roses do I deck our bed - Where thou liest dead. - - -The Royal Council. - - (To the Peruvian Mummies in the Peabody Museum at Cambridge.) - - Bowed be three time-gnawed heads in thoughts profound - On crackling breast, on fleshless hands, on knees, - Sunk in the depths of endless reveries - Whilst foolish sun and fretful earth spin round. - By night they counsel, argue, plan, expound - And hold high court as once by tropic seas; - By day they rightly take their royal ease - As fitteth those whom Death no more can hound. - - Sage King, and ye two Councillors of State, - We look on you with ignorant, living eyes. - Ye fear no death who be already dead-- - Time pricks you not, nor haste. Ye sit and wait, - Each thoughtful, passionless and very wise, - With shrivelled bones and parchment-covered head... - - -Carmen Mortis. - - This is the Song of Death, - This is the burial-note - After the end of breath - Gasped by corrupted throat; - After the passing-breath - Heard from the grave remote; - This is the Song of Death, - This is the burial-note... - - O, sweet it is to be long since dead - And buried in earth so cold; - To feel on the roof of thy narrow bed - The weight of the sodden mould, - To lie in the dark of an endless night - And the lees of an oozing slime-- - I know these joys, for I have been dead - And buried, a long, long time... - - My lips they are drawn in a ghastly smile - But through them there goes no breath; - And my eyes they are dead and sunk in my head, - Yet forever they stare, in death, - For I look at the rotting burial-boards - Close sagging above my head; - Yea, I have been buried a long, long time, - For I have been long since dead... - My corpse is a-cold, for the chilling mould - Is about me on every side. - I lie like a stone, with my Terror, alone, - For here in the grave I died... - Yea, I screamed full loud in my ghastly shroud - When I woke in the noisome gloom, - And the sweat of my agony froze like ice - As I fought with my fearful doom... - - But now--I am dead, though my lips still laugh - In the motionless black of night, - Though my bleared eyes stare in the grave, for they see - - Not even the glow-worm’s light; - Yet still I can see that to buried be - Is a sweet and a happy thing, - For I sing my Song in the House of Death, - And this is the Song I sing: - - Welcome - slimy - worm - with - sightless - head - - Blindly - burrowing - in - the - fearful - night - - Happy - shouldst - thou - be - for - lack - of - sight - - Since - thou - canst - not - see - that - I - am - dead - - When - thou - comest - from - thy - secret - place - - Eating - through - the - earth - with - silent - care - - Boldly - come - I - bid - and - boldly - dare - - Down - to - drop - upon - my - leaden - face - - Drag - thy - sluggish - slime - across - my - eyes - - They - will - never - close - to - touch - of - thine - - Coil - within - these - hideous - lips - of - mine - - Where - a - Maid - breathed - long - ago - her - sighs - - - Welcome - slimy - worm - with - creeping - head - - Meet - it - is - that - thou - my - friend - shouldst - be - - Happy - art - thou - since - thou - canst - not - see - - I - am - buried - deep - and - I - am - dead - - Then these be the words of the Song of Death - That I sing in my prison-cell. - It charms the worms with the hooded heads, - And the worms I love full well. - It charms the worms, though my singing is - But a mouthing, mumbling groan, - For I have no breath in this House of Death - And I mutter with lips alone... - - So, my tale it is told of the dread and cold - In the depths of this livid gloom; - And I motionless lie, as I strive to die, - As I rot in my narrow room, - For I am not dead whilst my fearful head - The foul, fat worms forsake; - But, when that is gone, then my dream it is done, - And I sleep at last, never to wake... - - * * * * * - - This is the Song of Death, - This is the burial-note - After the end of breath - Gasped by corrupted throat; - After the passing breath - Heard from the grave remote; - This is the burial-note, - This is the Song of Death... - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[A] From Gaëtan de Méaulne’s “Course des Grands Masqués.” Here -reprinted by courtesy of the New York “Herald.” To this translation was -awarded the Herald’s First Prize of 500 francs. - -[B] This North Country ballad probably dates from about 1525. It -was found in a fragmentary condition in a copy of the 1684 edition -of Abraham Cowley’s Poetical Works, and is here for the first time -completed and made public. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Underneath the Bough, by George Allan England - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH *** - -***** This file should be named 60870-0.txt or 60870-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/8/7/60870/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. 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-} -.drop-cap2 { - text-indent: -2.5em; -} -.drop-cap3 { - text-indent: -2.5em; -} -.drop-cap4 { - text-indent: -2.5em; -} - -.drop-cap5 { - text-indent: -2.5em; -} - -.drop-cap:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.1em 1.2em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.65em; - text-indent: -.5em; -} - -.drop-cap2:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.1em .75em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.65em; - text-indent: -.5em; -} - -.drop-cap3:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.1em .6em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.65em; - text-indent: -.5em; -} - -.drop-cap4:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.1em 1em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.65em; - text-indent: -.5em; -} - -.drop-cap5:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.1em 0.4em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.65em; - text-indent: -.5em; -} -@media handheld -{ - .drop-cap, .drop-cap2, .drop-cap3, .drop-cap4, .drop-cap5 { - text-indent: 0em; - } - .drop-cap:first-letter, .drop-cap2:first-letter, .drop-cap3:first-letter, .drop-cap4:first-letter, .drop-cap5:first-letter - { - float: none; 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Underneath the Bough - A Book of Verses - -Author: George Allan England - -Release Date: December 7, 2019 [EBook #60870] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<p class="center">AUTOGRAPH EDITION<br /> -<br /> -Printed for subscribers only<br /> -<br /> -This Copy is<br /> -<br /> -No. ___________</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h1>UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH</h1> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p><span class="xxxlarge">UNDERNEATH<br /> -THE BOUGH</span></p> - -<p><span class="xxlarge"><i>A BOOK OF VERSES</i></span></p> - -<p>By<br /> -<span class="xlarge">GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<p>THE GRAFTON PRESS<br /> -NEW YORK</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center"> -Copyright, 1903, by<br /> -GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="center"> -This little book is offered to<br /> -AGNES<br /> -its inspirer, in this the tenth year<br /> -of her reign.<br /> -</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>I desire to express my sincere thanks to Dr. -Titus Munson Coan, Mr. Justo Quintro and -Mr. A. B. Myrick for assistance rendered, and -to acknowledge the kind permission to reprint -certain of these verses given me by The Literary -Digest, Harvard Illustrated Magazine, Vogue, -Middletown Forum, Red Letter, Literary -Review, Boston Transcript, Town Topics, -Smart Set, The New York Herald and other -periodicals.</p> - -<p class="right">G. A. E.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak"> -CONTENTS.</h2></div> - - - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="tdr"><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Race of the Mighty</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td><span class="smcap">Songs & Sonnets.</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Love Beatified</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Morning, Noon and Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Dante</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Love’s Blindness</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Hesperides</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">My Garden</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Erinnerungen</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Battle Royal</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Espaa</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Love’s Fear</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Longings</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Horace, IV, 8</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Ricordatevi Di Me!</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Tower</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Love’s Prayer</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Combien J’ai Douce Souvenance</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">My Little Red Devil and I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The College Pump</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">I Disputanti</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Quand Vous Serez Bien Vieille</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">One Summer Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">A Une Fleurette</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Blest Be the Day</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Mignonne Allons Voir Si La Rose</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Religion</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Great Woods Were Awakening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">I-N-R-I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Fayre Robyn</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Coeur de Femme</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td><span class="smcap">Ballades & Rondeaux</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Ballade of the Sick</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Three Rondeaux from Charles d’Orlans</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Song of the Poor</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Kyrielle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Rondeau</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">When I First Saw Edme</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">My Old Coat</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">A Pantoum</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">When Doris Deigns</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td><span class="smcap">The Year</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Spring—May Evening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Summer—August Rain</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Autumn—November in Cambridge</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Winter—Hampton Holidays</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> - - -<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td><span class="smcap">Mors Omnium Victor</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Gunga Din in Hell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Cui Bono?</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Bride-Bed</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Dead Loves</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Death the Friend</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">La Jeune Fille</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Lucie</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Luctus in Morte Passeris</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Death in December</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">The Royal Council</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdl">Carmen Mortis</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="ph1">THE RACE OF THE MIGHTY</p> - - - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">The Race of the Mighty<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h2></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> - - -<div class="center">THE START</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THE appointed time at length the dials show.</div></div> -<div class="verse">“Attention, both!... Now, are you ready?... Go!!”</div> -<div class="verse">The chauffeur grips his lever with a hand</div> -<div class="verse">Of steel.—A leap!—A flash of wheels! A grand</div> -<div class="verse">And supple beast-like spring!—A growl of gear!</div> -<div class="verse">As, sweeping through the multitudinous sea</div> -<div class="verse">Of men upraising full-voiced cheer on cheer,</div> -<div class="verse">He whirls away to promised victory!...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="center">ON THE ROAD</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">The high road stretches straight and white</div> -<div class="indent7">Away</div> -<div class="verse">To dreamy distance, on and on—</div> -<div class="indent7">The day</div> -<div class="verse">Dawns sharp and foggy; nips the driver’s</div> -<div class="indent7">Nose,</div> -<div class="verse">Despite his costly furs. Zounds! How</div> -<div class="indent7">It blows!</div> -<div class="verse">The motor purrs!—Our mobile seems</div> -<div class="indent7">To fly,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Nor touch the ground... (Pneumatic</div> -<div class="indent7">Mystery!)</div> -<div class="verse">The motor purrs!—Farewell wood, field</div> -<div class="indent7">And stream!</div> -<div class="verse">Once on the road, we’ve scanty time</div> -<div class="indent7">To dream!</div> -<div class="verse">The motor purrs!—Look out! A sheer</div> -<div class="indent7">Decline.</div> -<div class="verse">Temptation whispers: Faster here!</div> -<div class="indent7">It’s fine!</div> -<div class="verse">Faster? It’s madness! Yes, I know!—</div> -<div class="indent7">But on!</div> -<div class="verse">Full speed down hill! Another record</div> -<div class="indent7">Gone!...</div> -<div class="verse">The driver plunges out of view...</div> -<div class="indent7">See, there</div> -<div class="verse">He climbs the distant slope again.</div> -<div class="indent7">I swear</div> -<div class="verse">He’d scale Olympus! Yet that course</div> -<div class="indent7">Is clear</div> -<div class="verse">From many mishaps that beset</div> -<div class="indent7">Us here!</div> -<div class="verse">We crush a cursd mongrel in</div> -<div class="indent7">The dust!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Slow down to miss an English spinster,</div> -<div class="indent7">Just</div> -<div class="verse">Graze by her on her clumsy, ancient</div> -<div class="indent7">Wheel!—</div> -<div class="verse">Rout ducks and chickens, set the pigs</div> -<div class="indent7">A-squeal!</div> -<div class="verse">It’s not <i>our</i> fault! We can’t be kept</div> -<div class="indent7">All day</div> -<div class="verse">To clear the road!... Speed on!—Away!</div> -<div class="indent7">Away!...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - - -<div class="center">THE STRUGGLE</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">But hark!... Behind, a trumpet-blast winds clear!</div> -<div class="verse">Great God! Our dread competitor draws near;</div> -<div class="verse">We’d half a minute start, and now, like Fate,</div> -<div class="verse">He’s rushing onward to annihilate</div> -<div class="verse">Distance and time, whirled in a hurricane!</div> -<div class="verse">Inexorably we see him gain and gain....</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Now!—speed her up!” the boy cries out. “More speed!”</div> -<div class="verse">“The cursd motor’s gone to sleep!—Indeed,</div> -<div class="verse">“We’re hardly doing fifty miles an hour.</div> -<div class="verse">“But he won’t pass us yet awhile! More power!”...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -<div class="verse">The driver heeds; he moves—the furious pace</div> -<div class="verse">Grows frenzied! Oh, the glory of a race</div> -<div class="verse">Like this of modern days, with steady hand</div> -<div class="verse">To steer a whirlwind through a startled land!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - - -<div class="center">THE WATCHERS</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">“The first is near!—Let no one cross!—Take care!</div> -<div class="verse">“See! There they are!—Look out! The horn! Beware!</div> -<div class="verse">“Stand back!—They’re two!... It’s Girardot! No, no;</div> -<div class="verse">“It’s Charron! No, it’s Levegh!—How they blow</div> -<div class="verse">“That horn!”... But who can hope to recognize</div> -<div class="verse">Or name the shrilling bullet in its flight?</div> -<div class="verse">And what are names when glory blinds the eyes?</div> -<div class="verse">The towns love sport, and cheer; but, half in fright</div> -<div class="verse">The laboring peasants stop their ploughs to see</div> -<div class="verse">This avalanche—this hurtling mystery!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> - - -<div class="center">THE FINISH</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">Untiring, on their mounts of fire and steel,</div> -<div class="verse">The shielded chauffeurs, watchful, hand on wheel,</div> -<div class="verse">Have flashed through many a league;—have breathed the dust</div> -<div class="verse">Of devious ways; have skirted wood and sea;</div> -<div class="verse">Have traversed towns, crossed rivers, hills and dales;—</div> -<div class="verse">Nor halted once! To learn geography</div> -<div class="verse">By such vast lessons, though it tire the flesh,</div> -<div class="verse">Exalts the soul and makes the spirit free.</div> -<div class="verse">But now must end this vast, Titanic race!</div> -<div class="verse">(It cannot last forever!)—See! The place</div> -<div class="verse">Lies there!... A broad, white banner bars the way,</div> -<div class="verse">Between two lofty poles with streamers gay.</div> -<div class="verse">The “FINISH” there we read. The end at last!</div> -<div class="verse">All rest and glory, once that goal is passed!</div> -<div class="verse">A final burst!—The driver grips the bar!</div> -<div class="verse">The “FINISH!” In the road he sees afar</div> -<div class="verse">A judge with solemn air attentive stand,</div> -<div class="verse">Waving a crimson kerchief in his hand...</div> -<div class="verse">“Stop!” Harshly grinds the brake—“What number’s this?”</div> -<div class="indent3">“Your name?”</div> -<div class="indent9">Recorded!</div> -<div class="indent14">Apotheosis!!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">SONGS & SONNETS</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Love Beatified.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">LOVE, slain by us and buried yesterday,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Rose up again, nor in his grave would stay.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">On his earth-staind brow and sightless eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Still shone the splendours of our Paradise.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Hushed was each dissonance, every fault made clean,</div> -<div class="verse">And joys alone I saw, that might have been.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It never seemed our Love could shew so fair</div> -<div class="verse">As that dead Presence, shrined in glory there.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I would not have our Love to live again,</div> -<div class="verse">And blend each pleasure with his greater pain.—</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh better far this blessd death, and rest!</div> -<div class="verse">Dead Love I clasp, I cherish to my breast</div> -<div class="verse">And ever shall, for this I know is best!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Morning, Noon and Night.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">I LOVE thee when the gates of eastern light</div></div> -<div class="verse">Are opened by the Morning-star, aflame;</div> -<div class="verse">I love thee when the rose-red heavens proclaim</div> -<div class="verse">The coming of their lord, to mortal sight,</div> -<div class="verse">And cloudless, when from his imperial height</div> -<div class="verse">He looks in glory down. I breathe thy name</div> -<div class="verse">With thoughts of love, when drowsy Noon the same</div> -<div class="verse">Poised, equal distance holds, twixt dawn and night.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I love thee when the West begins to glow,</div> -<div class="verse">And when the restless winds lie still in heaven;</div> -<div class="verse">I love thee when the deep’ning shadows fall,</div> -<div class="verse">As comes with Tyrian dye, soft, purple even;</div> -<div class="verse">But when, from out the waters, rises slow</div> -<div class="verse">The noiseless Night, I love thee best of all.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Dante.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THOU’RT but a pensive, dreaming Boy, when first</div></div> -<div class="verse">To thy sad eyne the sight of Love appears</div> -<div class="verse">With blessd Beatrice. Nine circling years</div> -<div class="verse">Name thee the wounded Lover, whose sweet thirst</div> -<div class="verse">Is never sated, nor whose fever less.</div> -<div class="verse">At Campaldino thou’rt the maild Knight;</div> -<div class="verse">Savage to spur thy City on toward right</div> -<div class="verse">Thou’rt driven, its scape-goat, to the wilderness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">There, in the stranger’s house whose stairs are pain</div> -<div class="verse">To mount, whose bread is bitter to thy mouth,</div> -<div class="verse">Dawns thy Great Vision, mid thy soul’s last drouth;</div> -<div class="verse">And, past Hell’s flame and Purgatory’s round,</div> -<div class="verse">Greets thee thy love most gentle, once again,</div> -<div class="verse">Thou frowning Florentine with laurels crowned!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Love’s Blindness.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap">“O LOVE, my Love, thou canst not know how sweet, </div></div> -<div class="verse">How dear thou art!”—“Naught would I know, save this</div> -<div class="verse">That thou wilt ever yearn to share my kiss!</div> -<div class="verse">So being, I reck not whether years be fleet</div> -<div class="verse">Or endless!”—“But thou canst not see thy face</div> -<div class="verse">As others see thee! Thy deep eyes that greet</div> -<div class="verse">Their lucent-mirrored glimmerings, melt and meet</div> -<div class="verse">In glory there, to blind themselves a space!”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Hush, O my heart! Thy vain hyperbole</div> -<div class="verse">Means naught; but take in both thy hands and turn</div> -<div class="verse">To thee this face of mine, and kiss my brow,</div> -<div class="verse">And after that mine eyes which cannot see</div> -<div class="verse">But only feel thy lips that thrill, and now</div> -<div class="verse">My mouth, and now—O God! thy kisses burn!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Hesperides.</h3></div> - -<h4>I</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">NOW once again the angry sun</div></div> -<div class="verse">Wheels up the heaven his tireless way;</div> -<div class="verse">Once more we strangling herds of men</div> -<div class="verse">Wake to our labours never-done,</div> -<div class="verse">Rise up to toil another day.</div> -<div class="verse">Down flares the heat on town and street, </div> -<div class="verse">Wide-warping pillar, span and plinth;</div> -<div class="verse">Once more my burning, wearied eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Within this monstrous labyrinth</div> -<div class="verse">Meet the mad heat that stifles me,</div> -<div class="verse">And O, my baffled spirit flies</div> -<div class="verse">In dreams to thy green wood and thee,</div> -<div class="verse">To thee!... To thee!...</div> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">My pavement-wearied feet again</div> -<div class="verse">Tread the rough streets whose ways are pain,</div> -<div class="verse">Hot with the sun’s last sullen beam,</div> -<div class="verse">And yet—I dream!</div> -<div class="verse">Dream when I wake, and at high, blinding Noon,</div> -<div class="verse">Or when the moon</div> -<div class="verse">Mocks the sad City in her sullen night</div> -<div class="verse">That burns too bright!</div> -<div class="verse">So sweet my visions seem</div> -<div class="verse">That from this sordid smoke and dust I turn,</div> -<div class="verse">Turn where the dim Wood-world calls out to me</div> -<div class="verse">And where the forest-virgins I half see</div> -<div class="verse">With green mysterious fingers beckoning!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Where vine-wreathed woodland altars sunlit burn,</div> -<div class="verse">Or Dryads weave their mystic rounds and sing,</div> -<div class="verse">Sing high, sing low, with magic cadences</div> -<div class="verse">That once the wild oaks of Dodona heard;</div> -<div class="verse">And every wood-note bids me burst asunder</div> -<div class="verse">The bonds that hold me from the leaf-hid bird!</div> -<div class="verse">I quaff thee, O Nepenthe! Ah, the wonder</div> -<div class="verse">Grows that there be who scorn not wealth and ease,</div> -<div class="verse">Who still will choose the street-life, rough and blurred,</div> -<div class="verse">Who will not quest you, O Hesperides!...</div> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<h4>III</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">And now, and now... I feel the forest-moss!</div> -<div class="verse">O, on these moss-beds let me lie with Pan,</div> -<div class="verse">Twined with the ivy-vine in tendrilled curls!</div> -<div class="verse">And I will hold all gold that hampers man</div> -<div class="verse">But the base ashes of a barren dross!</div> -<div class="verse">On with the love-dance of the pagan girls!</div> -<div class="verse">The pagan girls with lips all rosy-red,</div> -<div class="verse">With breasts up-girt and foreheads garlanded!</div> -<div class="verse">With fair white foreheads nobly garlanded!</div> -<div class="verse">With sandalled feet that weave the magic ring</div> -<div class="verse">Now ... let them sing,</div> -<div class="verse">And I will pipe a song that all may hear,</div> -<div class="verse">To bid them mind the time of my wild rhyme!</div> -<div class="verse">Away! Away! Beware our mystic trees!</div> -<div class="verse">Who will not quest you, O Hesperides?...</div> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> - -<h4>IV</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Great men of song, what sing ye? Woodland meadows?</div> -<div class="verse">Rocks, trees and rills where sunlight glints to gold?</div> -<div class="verse">Sing ye the hills adown whose sides blue shadows</div> -<div class="verse">Creep when the westering day is growing old?</div> -<div class="verse">Sing ye the brooks where in the purling shallows</div> -<div class="verse">The small fish dart and gleam?</div> -<div class="verse">Sing ye the pale green tresses of the willows</div> -<div class="verse">That stoop to kiss the stream?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Or sing ye burning streets and sweating toil</div> -<div class="verse">Where we spawned swarms of men, unendingly,</div> -<div class="verse">Above, below, in mart and workshop’s moil</div> -<div class="verse">Have quite forgot thee, O mine Arcady?...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">My Garden.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">With a copy of “Sonnets of this Century.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THIS little book, a Garden where the bloom</div></div> -<div class="verse">And fragrance of an hundred years are pent,</div> -<div class="verse">To thee, dear girl, at Christmas-tide is sent</div> -<div class="verse">By one who breathes with love the sweet perfume</div> -<div class="verse">Of such frail flowers. Let aye the world consume</div> -<div class="verse">Itself with toil and labour—such are all</div> -<div class="verse">Without the bounds of this my garden-wall,</div> -<div class="verse">And I, in light, feel not nor heed their gloom.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Come thou into my Garden! Let me show</div> -<div class="verse">Thee all the treasures that do lend it grace,</div> -<div class="verse">These goodly Sonnets, standing in a row</div> -<div class="verse">To tell of joy, tears, love,—life’s madrigal;</div> -<div class="verse">And, mistress of the pure enchanted place,</div> -<div class="verse">Be thou the fairest Flower among them all!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Erinnerungen.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">SCHWER ist mein Herz, und heute kann ich nicht</div></div> -<div class="verse">Mehr lesen—kann nicht denken, leiden mehr.</div> -<div class="verse">Aus jeder Ecke kommt ein Schatten her,</div> -<div class="verse">Wie aus dem toten Himmel geht das Licht.</div> -<div class="verse">Ich sinn’ und sinn’—ich sehe ihn noch, wie er</div> -<div class="verse">Vor langen Jahren zartlich schaut’ mich an</div> -<div class="verse">Eh’ unsere reine Liebe erst begann</div> -<div class="verse">Langsam zu sterben, ich zu trauern sehr...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Schwer ist mein Herz. Aus seinen Ecken auch</div> -<div class="verse">Kriechen die Schatten, schnell und schneller. Jetzt</div> -<div class="verse">Vernimmt mein mdes Ohr den ersten Hauch</div> -<div class="verse">Der Winternacht ... Es glimmert Strom und Wald</div> -<div class="verse">In dunkler Ferne ... Dies vergeht zuletzt,</div> -<div class="verse">Und alles endlich finster ist und kalt...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Battle Royal.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THOU Battle Royal! Kings and gentlemen</div></div> -<div class="verse">At arms, and lords have fought thee since the mists</div> -<div class="verse">Of time, back-rolling, show’d thy mimic lists</div> -<div class="verse">And pigmy warriors, mazed and harried then</div> -<div class="verse">As now in meshes of thy checkered strife—</div> -<div class="verse">Unshielded Pawns, trim Knights and frowning Rooks</div> -<div class="verse">Stolid yet quick, and Bishops smug, with looks</div> -<div class="verse">A-squint, and King with lame yet endless life.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thou Battle Royal! Years unnumbered soil</div> -<div class="verse">Cards, draughts and dice with myriad grime-worn hands.</div> -<div class="verse">Thou, lov’d by dames and lords in all the lands</div> -<div class="verse">Of this broad world art still the world’s best play;</div> -<div class="verse">Where, as in life, whilst others struggle, toil,</div> -<div class="verse">And die, the imperious Queen controls the day!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Espaa.</h3></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Que era, decidme, la nacin que un da</div> -<div class="verse">Reina del mundo proclam el destino?...”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><i>Quintana—Oda a Espaa.</i></div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WHERE now that Nation proud which Destiny</div></div> -<div class="verse">Once did proclaim this world’s all conquering queen?</div> -<div class="verse">Where now that sceptre, that bright blazon seen</div> -<div class="verse">That mark’d her mistress over land and sea?</div> -<div class="verse">A lost emprise, a shattered galleon she,</div> -<div class="verse">Sails rent and hull agape that once have been</div> -<div class="verse">World-powerful; her rotting masts careen</div> -<div class="verse">With each dark surge of long-pent enmity.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">On through sea’s salty wastes the tempests spurn,</div> -<div class="verse">The waves rebuff her; lights no more there gleam </div> -<div class="verse">Nor vergies wave on her high carven beam.</div> -<div class="verse">Stilled is the sailor’s jest, the skipper’s song;</div> -<div class="verse">In swirling fogs of night she drives along</div> -<div class="verse">With Helmsman Death stark-frozen at the stern!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Love’s Fear.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">VIRGIN art thou and pure, amid a throng</div></div> -<div class="verse">Of such sweet hallowed names as all men praise.</div> -<div class="verse">(Grown all too scant in these our latter days!)</div> -<div class="indent">To holy hours of old dost thou belong;</div> -<div class="indent">Saint Agns then had heard thine even-song,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor left thee, darkling, in Earth’s devious ways.</div> -<div class="verse">Thou’rt one with that sweet sisterhood which raise </div> -<div class="verse">To “untouched Dian,” all clear streams along,</div> -<div class="verse">Their full-voiced anthem. Thou a Vestal art</div> -<div class="verse">At true-love’s altar. Atala, and the Maid,</div> -<div class="verse">And Mary all are sisters of thy blood!</div> -<div class="verse">Thy very name is virgin!... I, afraid,</div> -<div class="verse">How shall I press my kisses on thy heart,</div> -<div class="verse">Or loose the girdle of thy maidenhood?...</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Longings.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent2">“... Nessun maggior dolore</div> -<div class="verse">Che ricordarsi del tempo felice</div> -<div class="verse">Nella miseria...”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><i>Inferno, V, 121.</i></div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FAR from the sea-girt City that I love,</div></div> -<div class="verse">My wandering ways by care attended lie;</div> -<div class="verse">Cold is the azure of this foreign sky,</div> -<div class="verse">And strange these clustered stars that burn above.</div> -<div class="verse">Out from this loveless land would I remove</div> -<div class="verse">To seek thy spring Pierian, never-dry,</div> -<div class="verse">Thou thrice-crowned City! Hear my fainting cry.</div> -<div class="verse">Let not my passionate longing fruitless prove!</div> -<div class="verse">Would I once more might see the dome of gold</div> -<div class="verse">Burning aloft, beneath my native sky!</div> -<div class="verse">The river, winding near my home of old,</div> -<div class="verse">And once again to breathe before I die,</div> -<div class="verse">The evening breeze, may it be granted me,</div> -<div class="verse">In that fair city by the distant sea!...</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Eighth Ode of the Fourth -Book of Horace.</h3></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">To C. Martius Censorinus.</span></p> - - - -<p class="center">“Donarem pateras grataque commodus...”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FREELY to my companions would I give</div></div> -<div class="verse">Beautiful bronzes, Censorinus, bowls</div> -<div class="verse">And tripods, once a guerdon to the souls</div> -<div class="verse">Of hardy Greeks; nor should’st thou bear away</div> -<div class="verse">The meanest of my gifts, could I but live</div> -<div class="verse">Possessed of arts like those Parrhasius plied,</div> -<div class="verse">Or Skopas, now depicting human clay</div> -<div class="verse">And now a god, in liquid colors one</div> -<div class="verse">In solid stone the other. But denied</div> -<div class="verse">To me are equal powers; need hast thou none</div> -<div class="verse">In mind or state for treasures like to these.</div> -<div class="verse">Thou dost delight in songs, and such are mine</div> -<div class="verse">To give, and fix a value to each song.</div> -<div class="verse">Not marbles carved with public elegies,</div> -<div class="verse">Whence to illustrious leaders still belong</div> -<div class="verse">In dreamless death their praises half divine,</div> -<div class="verse">Not the precipitate flights of Hannibal</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Nor those retorted threats that wrought him shame,</div> -<div class="verse">Not impious Carthage and her flaming fall</div> -<div class="verse">More highly show, than the Calabrian Muse,</div> -<div class="verse">Glories of him who, having gained a name</div> -<div class="verse">From prostrate conquered Africa, returned.</div> -<div class="verse">Neither if writings should perchance refuse</div> -<div class="verse">To herald forth what thou so well hast earned</div> -<div class="verse">Wouldst thou have fitting praise. What were the son</div> -<div class="verse">Of Mars and Ilia, if in jealousy</div> -<div class="verse">Silence had drowned those lofty merits won</div> -<div class="verse">By Romulus? Through eloquence, through strength</div> -<div class="verse">And favor of all poets loved of fame,</div> -<div class="verse">Aeacus hallowed is, from Stygian floods,</div> -<div class="verse">To the fair Islands of the Blest at length.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The Muse forbids the worthy man to die;</div> -<div class="verse">She blesseth him with Heaven. Thus Hercules,</div> -<div class="verse">Untiring victor, finds a place on high</div> -<div class="verse">At Jove’s desired feasts. Tyndareus’ sons,</div> -<div class="verse">Clear-shining stars, thus from the deepest seas</div> -<div class="verse">Rescue the shattered ships. Thus Bacchus fair,</div> -<div class="verse">Twining his temples with fresh vine-leaves green,</div> -<div class="verse">To fruitful issue brings the votaries’ prayer.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Ricordatevi Di Me!</h3></div> - -<p class="center">(<i>Terza Rima.</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap5">IF ever thou shouldst cease to think of me</div></div> -<div class="verse">With love, and turn thy soul’s sweet warmth to ice—</div> -<div class="indent">(Stop not my mouth with kisses! Change may be,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">As all do know who take for their device</div> -<div class="verse">A bleeding heart!)—If any change should seal</div> -<div class="indent">To me the gates of uttermost Paradise,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">And I should darkling fare, with no repeal,</div> -<div class="verse">In company of them, that, love forsaken,</div> -<div class="indent">Before cold shrines and at dead altars kneel,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Remember this—I bade thy heart awaken;</div> -<div class="verse">Here in this hand it lay a prisoner!</div> -<div class="indent">Thy first wild love-kiss from my lips was taken,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">And with my breath thy first sighs mingled were!</div> -<div class="verse">Remember this—I loved thee well and long,</div> -<div class="indent">Thou haven to me, a time-worn wanderer!</div> -</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Then, though my voice be drowned in that clear song</div> -<div class="verse">Of thy new love, and I forgotten be</div> -<div class="indent">Or all-despisd, think thou in my wrong</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Some good there was, some truth akin with thee,</div> -<div class="verse">Some light half-seen, since I could tune a soul</div> -<div class="verse">Virgin as thine to perfect harmony,</div> -<div class="indent">And crown thy brow with Love’s pure aureole!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Tower.</h3></div> - -<h4>I</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THERE lies a City of Unnumbered Dead</div></div> -<div class="verse">Where paths entwine, where hills and valleys be,</div> -<div class="verse">And still, black pools; the cypress mystically</div> -<div class="verse">Shrouds those dark ways. There living souls may tread</div> -<div class="verse">With but slow steps and rare. With slow steps, led</div> -<div class="verse">By Love two lovers passed; they spake, and she</div> -<div class="verse">Cast down her mystic eyes lest he might see</div> -<div class="verse">In their vague depths the image of her dread.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A great round-tower of granite crowns that land.</div> -<div class="verse">Thither they came, and now her starry eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Were raised to his; that dread which wrought them ill</div> -<div class="verse">Behind them with the frozen dead lay chill.</div> -<div class="verse">Up the enchanted stairway hand in hand</div> -<div class="verse">They passed, and issued forth to see the skies.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And yet their sweetest moment did not seem</div> -<div class="verse">That dizzying issue into tenuous light,</div> -<div class="verse">Where the keen salt-sea wind that lashed their height</div> -<div class="verse">Drowned their love-quickened breath as in a stream</div> -<div class="verse">Of chill, on-rushing ther; not the gleam</div> -<div class="verse">Of multitudinous Ocean, nor the bright</div> -<div class="verse">Expanse of Earth could draw their dazzled sight</div> -<div class="verse">From the new glory of their passionate dream.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It was upon the tower’s midmost stair</div> -<div class="verse">At one dim diamond-window; both beguiled</div> -<div class="verse">Paused in the gloom; she trembled like a child;</div> -<div class="verse">His hot mouth found her mouth, her gold-twined hair,</div> -<div class="verse">And in her milk-white breast her heart beat wild</div> -<div class="verse">Beneath one burning kiss he printed there.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Love’s Prayer.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WHEN thy ripe lips in kisses mould to meet</div></div> -<div class="verse">Mine eager mouth—when thy full pulsing throat</div> -<div class="verse">Throbs with thy quickening life-breath—when the float</div> -<div class="verse">And tangle of thine ungirt hair, oh Sweet,</div> -<div class="verse">Entwines us, breast to breast, the perfumed heat</div> -<div class="verse">Of each wild sigh fans all my face aflame,</div> -<div class="verse">And beat to beat our passionate hearts the same</div> -<div class="verse">Responses cry, as we Love’s creed repeat.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">When in each other’s arms, love-wearied, we</div> -<div class="verse">Both nested safe in silken cushions warm</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">At Winter-evenfall entrancd lie,</div> -<div class="verse">Kissing but closer as we list the storm,</div> -<div class="verse">Then pray we, midst our sweet antiphony</div> -<div class="verse">But this—that love like ours may never die!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">“Combien J’ai Douce Souvenance...!”</h3></div> - -<p class="center">(<i>After Chateaubriand</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">OH sweet, how sweet old memories be</div></div> -<div class="verse">Of one most lovely place, to me—</div> -<div class="verse">My birthplace! Sister, fair those days</div> -<div class="indent3">And free!</div> -<div class="verse">Oh France, be thou my love, my praise</div> -<div class="indent3">Always!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Our mother—hath thy memory flown?—</div> -<div class="verse">Beside our humble chimney-stone</div> -<div class="verse">Pressed us against her heart, whilst you,</div> -<div class="indent3">Dear one,</div> -<div class="verse">And I her white hair kissed anew,</div> -<div class="indent3">We two.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Sweet little sister, dost recall</div> -<div class="verse">The stream that bathed the castle-wall?</div> -<div class="verse">The old round-tower whence came alway</div> -<div class="indent3">The call</div> -<div class="verse">Of bells to banish night away</div> -<div class="indent3">At day?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Dost thou recall the lake—how still!—</div> -<div class="verse">Where swallows skimmed at their sweet will?</div> -<div class="verse">The reeds, swayed by the gentle air</div> -<div class="indent3">Until</div> -<div class="verse">The sun set on the waters there,</div> -<div class="indent3">So fair?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, who will give me my Helne?</div> -<div class="verse">My mountains, my great oak again?</div> -<div class="verse">Their memory brings with all my days</div> -<div class="indent3">Fresh pain;</div> -<div class="verse">My land shall be my love, my praise</div> -<div class="indent3">Always!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">My Little Red Devil and I.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman.”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>Twelfth Night.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">MY little Red Devil upon my desk</div></div> -<div class="verse">With a smile sardonic stands.</div> -<div class="verse">He holds my pen with a patient air</div> -<div class="verse">In his crooked, outstretched hands;</div> -<div class="verse">The paint is worn from his hoof and horn</div> -<div class="verse">And scratched is his curving tail,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet he still holds on with a right good grace,</div> -<div class="verse">A knowing look on his crafty face,</div> -<div class="verse">And spirits that never fail.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So, what if his fingers are some of them gone,</div> -<div class="verse">And twisted the horns on his head?</div> -<div class="verse">His cheek still glows, and his aquiline nose</div> -<div class="verse">Is a genuine devilish red;</div> -<div class="verse">And his tail, beside, is a thing of pride,</div> -<div class="verse">For it swings in a glorious sweep,</div> -<div class="verse">With a graceful bend and a fork in the end</div> -<div class="verse">That would cause a sinner his ways to mend,</div> -<div class="verse">Or a saint, his vows to keep!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Though only a single eye has he</div> -<div class="verse">The world and the flesh to view,</div> -<div class="verse">(For the right is gone,) yet the other one</div> -<div class="verse">Has fire enough for two.</div> -<div class="verse">So his eyes ill-mated an air jocund</div> -<div class="verse">To his wrinkled features lend,</div> -<div class="verse">And to see his look you would almost think</div> -<div class="verse">That he was tipping a devilish wink</div> -<div class="verse">To his old, familiar friend.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, he is a jolly good fellow, in truth,</div> -<div class="verse">With a wit that is ever new,</div> -<div class="verse">And a heart like which, in this world of ours,</div> -<div class="verse">There are only, I fear, too few.</div> -<div class="verse">And he doesn’t complain when I come in late</div> -<div class="verse">Or keep him awake o’ nights,</div> -<div class="verse">So I have respect for his comfort, too,</div> -<div class="verse">By giving the Devil his utmost due,</div> -<div class="verse">And the whole of his royal rights.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -<div class="verse">To everyone else but myself his smile</div> -<div class="verse">Is fixed as the solid stone;</div> -<div class="verse">He changes the curve of his parted lips</div> -<div class="verse">For me, and for me alone.</div> -<div class="verse">So when I’m in luck he wishes me joy</div> -<div class="verse">With his whole Satanic heart,</div> -<div class="verse">But when I’ve the blues, it seems he would say</div> -<div class="verse">“Brace up, for the luck will be better some day!”</div> -<div class="verse">And my cares like the wind depart.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So my Devil and I are the best of friends</div> -<div class="verse">In a sort of a cynical way,</div> -<div class="verse">For he watches me out of his only eye</div> -<div class="verse">As I work at my desk each day,</div> -<div class="verse">And the idle verses I write in hope,</div> -<div class="verse">He quietly smiles to see,</div> -<div class="verse">For he knows full well that at first or last,</div> -<div class="verse">Like Biblical bread on the waters cast,</div> -<div class="verse">They will surely come back to me...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -<div class="verse">And at night, as I sit by the ruddy hearth,</div> -<div class="verse">With my pipe and my book, alone,</div> -<div class="verse">Or lazily muse by the embers red</div> -<div class="verse">When the light of the fire is gone,</div> -<div class="verse">I think of him sometimes, and hope in my heart</div> -<div class="verse">I never shall see the day</div> -<div class="verse">That sets me adrift from my little friend</div> -<div class="verse">And puts to our sociable life an end,</div> -<div class="verse">By taking my Devil away!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The College Pump.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap5">IN Summertide, beneath high-vaulted shade,</div></div> -<div class="verse">In Winter, frosted all with glistering rime,</div> -<div class="verse">In chanting Spring, or Autumn’s sullen time</div> -<div class="verse">When sodden leaves their tawny beds have made—</div> -<div class="verse">Alike when spendthrift Sun his gold afar</div> -<div class="verse">Downthrows, or earth lies shrouded all in cold,</div> -<div class="verse">By evil men and good, by young, by old,</div> -<div class="verse">In every season blessed thy waters are.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Grandsires and children drink with solaced eyes.</div> -<div class="verse">Dazed revellers early come with thirsty shame</div> -<div class="verse">Beneath gray glimmering of the sober skies.</div> -<div class="verse">All day men pause; and some, at eventide,</div> -<div class="verse">Poets, have hallowed with their touch thy name,</div> -<div class="verse">And with their lips thy waters sanctified.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">I Disputanti.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">LA MIA RAGIONE sento disputare</div></div> -<div class="verse">Col Core sempre—“Dopo crudel Morte,”</div> -<div class="verse">L’una dice, “con la sua man si forte</div> -<div class="verse">Il lume della vita spegni, io andare</div> -<div class="verse">Nel Buio credo...” L’altro poi; “Amare</div> -<div class="verse"> non morir. Il mio alto Fattore</div> -<div class="verse">Non puo voler che questo dolce fiore</div> -<div class="verse">Del mio affetto muoia...” “Io parlare</div> -<div class="verse">Del ‘Credo’ tuo non so; ma non c’ vita </div> -<div class="verse">Futura non c’ Dio. La Cagione</div> -<div class="verse"> l’Caso, solamente...” “ l’Amore,</div> -<div class="verse">L’Amore, quella via giammai smarrita,</div> -<div class="verse">Perduta mai...” Sempre cos col Core</div> -<div class="verse">Io sento disputar la mia Ragione...</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">“Quand Vous Serez Bien -Vieille...”</h3></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="indentleft">Ronsard.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THOU (being sometime old), by candlelight</div></div> -<div class="verse">Close crouched by the fire, spinning and mumbling o’er</div> -<div class="verse">The past, shalt croon my verses, marvelling more</div> -<div class="verse">That Ronsard sang thy praise, what time thy bright</div> -<div class="verse">First beauty was. Then, hearing thee recite</div> -<div class="verse">Such thing, thy drowsy maid, though weary-sore</div> -<div class="verse">And nodding off to sleep, shall wake before</div> -<div class="verse">My name and thine, with blessings infinite.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I under earth shall be, a soul in vain</div> -<div class="verse">Seeking its rest where myrtle shadows play;</div> -<div class="verse">Thou by the hearthstone cringe, outworn and blear, </div> -<div class="verse">My love regretting and thy cold disdain.</div> -<div class="verse">Live! an thou hear’st me! Wait no other day!</div> -<div class="verse">Gather life’s roses ere thy night be near!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">One Summer Night.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">The Fens, June, 1897.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FAR in the west the crescent moon hung low,</div></div> -<div class="verse">A filmy haze about it faintly spread,</div> -<div class="verse">And one bright star, a point of silver light</div> -<div class="verse">Seem’d comrade to it. Whispering Zephyrus</div> -<div class="verse">Tender as love, stole through the list’ning leaves,</div> -<div class="verse">Making a pleasant murmur in the night,</div> -<div class="verse">And touched the glimmering waters with his breath.</div> -<div class="indent">The ripples came unnumbered to the shore,</div> -<div class="verse">Soft-murmuring through the sedge and fenny reeds</div> -<div class="verse">With that same whisp’ring voice that Pan once heard</div> -<div class="verse">What time he first made pipes to sound the praise</div> -<div class="verse">Of her whom he had lost. The water’s breast</div> -<div class="verse">Was banded with a path of shimmering light</div> -<div class="verse">Broken by the ever-restless waves, which made</div> -<div class="verse">A thousand points of liquid brilliancy.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -<div class="verse">And in the beauty of still, hallowed night</div> -<div class="verse">Beside the plashing sandy shore, we met</div> -<div class="verse">In happiness. Each whispering of the wind,</div> -<div class="verse">Each tremulous leaf, and even the sleeping flowers</div> -<div class="verse">Seem’d breathing “Love” in tender unison,</div> -<div class="verse">And the sphered star in Heaven sang that word.</div> -<div class="indent">Dost thou remember how from out the grass,</div> -<div class="verse">I plucked a gentle flow’ret by that shore,</div> -<div class="verse">—Anemone some call it, wind-flower some,</div> -<div class="verse">Sprung from the crimson of Adonis’ blood</div> -<div class="verse">Where he was slain,—and how I softly said,</div> -<div class="verse">“O thou belovd, beauty is a rose</div> -<div class="verse">Growing in Life’s fair garden, by the spring</div> -<div class="verse">Of deathless Purity, and that clear dew</div> -<div class="verse">Which lies within its sweetness hid, is Love.”</div> -<div class="indent">Dost thou recall? And so it chance, I pray</div> -<div class="verse">Though we be parted, now and evermore,</div> -<div class="verse">Think sometimes of that night, and fancy still</div> -<div class="verse">We see the summer landscape, glimmering,</div> -<div class="verse">Lit by the steady-burning lights of heaven,</div> -<div class="verse">We scent the sweetness of the warm young night,</div> -<div class="verse">We hold the tender wind-flower, and still hear</div> -<div class="verse">The murmuring ripples on the sounding shore.</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">A Une Fleurette</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FLEURETTE! Sur sa poitrine si blanche et belle</div></div> -<div class="verse">Combien sens-tu de joie! Quel insens bon heur</div> -<div class="verse">Que de t’y prlasser doucement toute une heure!</div> -<div class="verse">Sur ses seins arrondis, l, serre tout contre elle,</div> -<div class="verse">Tu respires son tre. Une volupt telle</div> -<div class="verse">Que moi j’en sentirais, l, si prs de son coeur,</div> -<div class="verse">Sur ces deux petits monts de neige, heureuse fleur</div> -<div class="verse">Tu ressens... Ta mort, mme, fleurette, est un ciel!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Dieu! Que je suis las de tout ce monde de peine</div> -<div class="verse">Et de ses vanits et de ses maux! Toujours</div> -<div class="verse">Te veut mon me inquite. Donne-moi Reine</div> -<div class="verse">Du royaume dsert de mon coeur, mes amours,</div> -<div class="verse">Comme cette fleurette ta poitrine aime</div> -<div class="verse">Pour y dormir toujours, toute ternit!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Blest Be the Day.</h3></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The XXXIXth Sonnet<br /> -of Petrarch<br /> -to his Lady Laura.</span></p> - - -<p class="center">He blesseth all the divers causes and effects of his love toward her.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">BLEST be the day, the season and the year</div></div> -<div class="verse">The hour and moment, and the countrie fair,</div> -<div class="verse">Ay, even that very spot and instant where</div> -<div class="verse">Those two sweet eyne did first to me appear</div> -<div class="verse">Which since have left me—yet that sorrow dear</div> -<div class="verse">Of Love still blessd be, like as the bow</div> -<div class="verse">And shafts wherewith sweet Love did work me woe</div> -<div class="verse">With wounds most deep in this my bosom here.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Blest be the many voices wherewithal</div> -<div class="verse">I on my Lady’s well-belovd name</div> -<div class="verse">Have called, and blest the sighs, the tears, the flame</div> -<div class="verse">Of my desire, and all my screeds designed</div> -<div class="verse">To praise her—yet most blest my thoughts I call,</div> -<div class="verse">So hers that none but she may entrance find...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">“Mignonne Allons Voir Si La -Rose....”</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">After Ronsard.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">COME, sweet, away! Come see the rose,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Now that the day draws near its close,</div> -<div class="indent2">See whether it be faded grown—</div> -<div class="verse">Whether at evening fall away</div> -<div class="verse">Those leaves that opened to the day,</div> -<div class="indent2">Or dies their blush, so like thine own.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thou seest, dear love, its beauties pass,</div> -<div class="verse">Its wasted petals fall, alas!,</div> -<div class="indent2">In one short hour. It may not bide.</div> -<div class="verse">Unkind in truth is Mother Earth</div> -<div class="verse">Since dawn gives such a flower its birth</div> -<div class="indent2">And Death draws nigh at eventide.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So, sweet my darling, hear my voice,</div> -<div class="verse">I bid thee, in thy youth, rejoice!</div> -<div class="indent2">Before thy fragile petals close</div> -<div class="verse">Gather thy blossoms whilst thou may,</div> -<div class="verse">With time they fall and fade away</div> -<div class="indent2">As droops at night the withered rose.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Religion.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FROM that crude savage who, on Libyan sands,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Graves his barbaric god, and kneels thereto;</div> -<div class="verse">From those mysterious, matriarchal bands,</div> -<div class="verse">Eating strange flesh their spirit to renew</div> -<div class="verse">With fabled ancestors; from Austral lands</div> -<div class="verse">To Hyperborean solitudes, each age</div> -<div class="verse">Hath sought to fend its head from God’s dull rage</div> -<div class="verse">And stay the cosmic circling with clasped hands.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Yea, we no less! Doth man dare look away</div> -<div class="verse">Bravely as fits a man? With fear-sealed eyes,</div> -<div class="verse">Filling the spheres with vast, vague mysteries,</div> -<div class="verse">Man still must hearken some great angel’s wing,</div> -<div class="verse">Still bow to man-made God, still seek to stay</div> -<div class="verse">With claspd hands the cosmic circling...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Great Woods Were -Awakening.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“Les grands bois s’veillaient; il faisait jour peine...”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>Pradel.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THE great woods were awakening. A new day</div></div> -<div class="verse">Was freshly born; enchanted birds among</div> -<div class="verse">The clear green foliage raised their matin song</div> -<div class="verse">To praise the morning-glow. Thought-sad I lay</div> -<div class="verse">Beneath a gnarld oak; despite that gay</div> -<div class="verse">Fresh springtide, all my soul was suffering.</div> -<div class="verse">I waited her, and lo! the rapid wing</div> -<div class="verse">Of fluttering footsteps brushed the dew away.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Drunken with pleasure in a long-locked kiss</div> -<div class="verse">Our breath enmingled. Tightening in my arms</div> -<div class="verse">That beautiful, supple form, her heart’s alarms</div> -<div class="verse">I stifled on my heart. The thicket drew</div> -<div class="verse">Close over us, the sun grew dark, I wis,</div> -<div class="verse">Earth faded, Heaven opened to our view...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">I-N-R-I.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WITH bleeding brows beneath a thorn-meshed crown,</div></div> -<div class="verse">With swollen hands fast bound in leathern thong,</div> -<div class="verse">I saw One stand amid a surging throng</div> -<div class="verse">That spat on Him and strove to drag Him down.</div> -<div class="verse">On His bowed back the ridg’d welts scarlet lay</div> -<div class="verse">Traced long with bloody dew. His haggard face</div> -<div class="verse">Was streaked with sweat and blood, as in that place</div> -<div class="verse">He silent stood and silent gazed away.</div> -<div class="verse">Once more that One I saw, still garlanded</div> -<div class="verse">With mocking thorns. Through either bleeding hand</div> -<div class="verse">And through both patient feet a mangling nail</div> -<div class="verse">Was driven deep. Some cursed, some laughed, cried “Hail,</div> -<div class="verse">God crucified!...” And some crouched low in dread</div> -<div class="verse">And wept, and thunderous darkness filled the land...</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Fayre Robyn.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FAYRE ROBYN he rad owre the brae,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Hys steede he was a wighty browne;</div> -<div class="verse">The countrie a’ lay at hys back,</div> -<div class="indent">Hys eyen were to the toune.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Bauld Robyn owre the brae did ride,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor yet a Horde nor yerle was he,</div> -<div class="verse">But mae than ony nobleman</div> -<div class="indent">Hys fayreness was to see.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">And Robyn rad adoun the brae,</div> -<div class="verse">And cam yth High Strete;</div> -<div class="verse">A gentil pace hys horse hadde</div> -<div class="indent">Whych was baith goode and meete.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">The Shyreff’s dauter sate yth wane</div> -<div class="verse">And luikt out o’ the window round,</div> -<div class="verse">Therebye Robyn rad and sang,</div> -<div class="indent">A braw and pleasant sound.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -<div class="indent">She luikt upon hys goodely forme</div> -<div class="verse">He luikt a’ in hir deepe blue yee;</div> -<div class="verse">Robyn doft hys bonnet; a rose to hym</div> -<div class="indent">She dropit for replye.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Leeve may o meete me bye the yett,</div> -<div class="verse">And a’ taegither we will flie.</div> -<div class="verse">I’ll meete thee when the nyghte be com,</div> -<div class="indent">So ryde again soone bye.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">She’s met hym when the nyghte was com,</div> -<div class="verse">And a’ taegither they hae fled,</div> -<div class="verse">Now gin the Shyreff com, most sure</div> -<div class="indent">They maun baith be dead.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">The hae na gane a league, a league,</div> -<div class="verse">A league nor barely ane,</div> -<div class="verse">When Robyn saith now by my bloode</div> -<div class="indent">They’re reasin a’ the toon.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">They hae na gane anither league,</div> -<div class="verse">A league nor barely twa,</div> -<div class="verse">When they do heare a not ffar off</div> -<div class="indent">Some bernes that them pursue.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">The be com unto a great roke;</div> -<div class="verse">Ye faith it was baith deepe and wide.</div> -<div class="verse">The Shyreff’s bernes byn sonygh</div> -<div class="indent">The maun plunge them in the tyde.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -<div class="indent">They’ve plunged them in the cauld water,</div> -<div class="verse">The spait was ful swift bye;</div> -<div class="verse">Now byr Ladye, quoth the may,</div> -<div class="indent">Methinks we baith maun dee.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">They’ve plunged them into the cauld roke;</div> -<div class="verse">The hors they rade sank doun.</div> -<div class="verse">A’ yth black water then</div> -<div class="indent">The baith were neere to droune.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">He bare hir firme in hys left arme</div> -<div class="verse">And swam a’ wi’ his right:</div> -<div class="verse">When the cam to yearth againe</div> -<div class="indent">The bernes byn in sight.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">The bernes rad the roke along</div> -<div class="verse">And saw Robyn’s bonnet on the tide.</div> -<div class="verse">Now be the baith to bottom gane,</div> -<div class="indent">Ther may the bide!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">The Shyreff turned him home again,</div> -<div class="verse">Turned back and went awaie,</div> -<div class="verse">But Robyn and His Ladye ffayre</div> -<div class="indent">Were wed the nextin daye.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Coeur de Femme.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">I CANNOT think that woman love as we</div></div> -<div class="verse">Love them, with soul and body, breath and blood,</div> -<div class="verse">And spent soul tortured in the strangling flood</div> -<div class="verse">Of passion’s tense oblivious agony;</div> -<div class="verse">I cannot think the kiss She gives to me</div> -<div class="verse">Thrills her white body as it pulses mine,</div> -<div class="verse">Or in Love’s chalice of ambrosial wine</div> -<div class="verse">She drowns all things which were or are to be.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We please them with our smile, for they are vain</div> -<div class="verse">And Love a flatterer is; they joy to fling</div> -<div class="verse">A rose-entwind leash about their slave;</div> -<div class="verse">Purple and gold they take, and winnowed grain</div> -<div class="verse">Of gems from Hesperus’ isle,—all men will bring; </div> -<div class="verse">But <i>Love</i>—lies bleeding by a woman’s grave!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">BALLADES & RONDEAUX</h2></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Ballade of the Sick.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">CAN these be men, that lie so still, so white?</div></div> -<div class="verse">Whose hopeless eyes yearn things they cannot say?</div> -<div class="verse">Who scarce can part the daytime from the night</div> -<div class="verse">Save that the night drags heavier than the day?</div> -<div class="verse">Have these a listening God, to whom they pray?</div> -<div class="verse">God hears not such, nor cares, right well know I,</div> -<div class="verse">For nameless things I learn through long delay,</div> -<div class="verse">On this strait bed where I perforce must lie.</div> -<div class="verse">I learn of life-in-death; I learn the blight</div> -<div class="verse">Of seeing my soul and body slow decay,</div> -<div class="verse">Hemmed in with white-walled nothingness. The flight </div> -<div class="verse">Of vagrant flies, the sunlight’s sluggish way</div> -<div class="verse">Of crawling on—yes, even the shadows gray</div> -<div class="verse">Help tease the laggard moments loathly by.</div> -<div class="verse">Since great are none, small things my pain allay</div> -<div class="verse">On this strait bed where I perforce must lie.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -<div class="verse">I learn to see, nor shrink from any sight.</div> -<div class="verse">That deathmask yonder—carrion mass of clay—</div> -<div class="verse">Hath but a bleeding scrap of lung, to fight</div> -<div class="verse">The ghastly death that knows nor truce nor stay.</div> -<div class="verse">The Polack, old through pains that tear and flay,</div> -<div class="verse">Will go next sennight—how these swart folk die!</div> -<div class="verse">Last week they found one, waxen-cold for aye,</div> -<div class="verse">On this strait bed where I perforce must lie.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center">ENVOY</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“This too will pass!” my comfort be alway.</div> -<div class="verse">Hell is forgot of them that chant on high;</div> -<div class="verse">Yet have I seen such things no man should say,</div> -<div class="verse">On this strait bed where I perforce must lie...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Three Rondeaux from Charles -d’Orlans.</h3></div> - -<h4>I.<br /> - -LE TEMPS A LAISSI SON MANTEAU.</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">YE TIME hath lefte his mantle fall</div></div> -<div class="verse">Of biting windes and cold and rain,</div> -<div class="indent">And well hath dight himself again</div> -<div class="verse">In sunlight shining cleare on all;</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Creatures be none, nor birds, but call</div> -<div class="indent">One to another their own refrain:</div> -<div class="indent">Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall</div> -<div class="verse">Of biting windes and cold and rain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Fountaines and brooks moste musical</div> -<div class="indent">Their fayrest dress to wear be fain;</div> -<div class="indent">With silvern drops and golde, amain, </div> -<div class="verse">Each newlie decks hymself withall;</div> -<div class="verse">Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<h4>II.<br /> - -DIEU! QU’IL LA FAIT BON REGARDER!</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze,</div> -<div class="indent">All-gracious, fayre and sweet of mien;</div> -<div class="indent">Such virtues be in her y-seen</div> -<div class="verse">All men stand ready with their praise.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Who then could weary of her ways?</div> -<div class="indent">Her beautie flowereth ever green;</div> -<div class="indent">Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze,</div> -<div class="verse">All-gracious, fayre and sweet of mien.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">This side or yon of Ocean’s maze</div> -<div class="indent">Nor dame nor damozel, I ween</div> -<div class="indent">So wholly parfaict yet hath been—</div> -<div class="verse">A dream, to think on her always:</div> -<div class="verse">Ye Gods! How good on her to gaze!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> - -<h4>III.<br /> - -LES FOURRIERS D’ESTE SONT VENUS.</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Ye maides in waiting all be here</div> -<div class="verse">Of Summertide, to deck her hall,</div> -<div class="verse">To hang her arras, woven all</div> -<div class="verse">With golden flowers and verdure clear;</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To stretch her carpet far and near</div> -<div class="verse">Of soft green moss o’er stone and wall;</div> -<div class="verse">Ye maides in waiting all be here</div> -<div class="verse">Of Summertide, to deck her hall.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Hearts that but late were cold and drear</div> -<div class="verse">Now (prais’d be God!), their joy recall;</div> -<div class="verse">Come, come away, with snow-wrapped pall!</div> -<div class="verse">Out on thee, Winter, old and blear!</div> -<div class="verse">Ye maides in waiting all be here...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Song of the Poor.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“O Rois qui serez jugs votre tour.”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>Banville.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">O KINGS, who must yourselves be judged one day,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Think of the wretched poor that ever stand</div> -<div class="indent">On Famine’s edge, and pity them! They pray</div> -<div class="verse">For you and love you; drudging till your land,</div> -<div class="verse">And, toiling, fill your coffers—they withstand</div> -<div class="indent">Your enemies; yet damned on earth they fare,</div> -<div class="verse">Woe infinite and endless pain they bear;</div> -<div class="indent">Not one there is but knows the keen distress</div> -<div class="verse">Of cold, of heat, and rain and ceaseless care,</div> -<div class="indent">For to the poor all things are bitterness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -<div class="indent">Even as a beast of burden, scourged amain,</div> -<div class="verse">The wretched peasant lives his hopeless life.</div> -<div class="indent">Does he but pluck his grapes, or dare refrain</div> -<div class="verse">An hour from drudging toil, and choose a wife</div> -<div class="verse">To share the sorrow of his unequal strife,—</div> -<div class="verse">His lord, a savage bird of prey, draws nigh;</div> -<div class="indent">Relentless comes, and, saying “Here am I!”</div> -<div class="verse">Seizes what little he may chance possess.</div> -<div class="verse">Nothing avails the vassal’s pleading cry,</div> -<div class="indent">For to the poor all things are bitterness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Pity the wretched jester in your halls!</div> -<div class="verse">Think on the fisher when the black waves curl</div> -<div class="indent">Their frothing tongues, and crackling lightning falls</div> -<div class="verse">On his frail boat! Pity the blue-eyed girl,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Lowly and dreaming, as her young hands whirl</div> -<div class="indent">The droning wheel! Think of a mother’s pain</div> -<div class="verse">And torment, as she weeps and seeks in vain,</div> -<div class="indent">Holding her fair dead child in blind distress,</div> -<div class="verse">To warm its cold heart back to life again.</div> -<div class="indent">O, to the poor all things are bitterness.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="center">ENVOI.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Mercy for these thine own, oh Prince, I cry!</div> -<div class="verse">Peace to thy vassal ’neath his darkened sky,</div> -<div class="verse">Peace to the pale nun, praying passionless,</div> -<div class="verse">And to all such as lowly live and die—</div> -<div class="indent">For to the poor all things are bitterness.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Kyrielle.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">NAY, not for me the toil and strife</div></div> -<div class="verse">Of ’Change, of war, of public life—</div> -<div class="verse">Than go with Fame, I’d rather stay</div> -<div class="verse">With books, and pipe and dear Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A little garden?... Well, perchance,</div> -<div class="verse">If weedless flowers, self-raising plants</div> -<div class="verse">Would grow therein, where I might stray</div> -<div class="verse">With books, and pipe and dear Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Horses and dogs?... Yes, I’d not mind</div> -<div class="verse">Were I but ever sure to find</div> -<div class="verse">An hour of peace, at close of day</div> -<div class="verse">With books, and pipe and dear Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Travel?... Of course! The Frank might stare,</div> -<div class="verse">The Russian rave, the Turk despair;</div> -<div class="verse">I none the less would them survey</div> -<div class="verse">With books, and pipe and dear Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -<div class="verse">But homeward-longing ever, I</div> -<div class="verse">Still for our low-built house would sign,</div> -<div class="verse">Where I might peaceful be for aye</div> -<div class="verse">With books, and pipe and dear Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Old books and many, pipe not new,</div> -<div class="verse">Edme all mine, forever, too,</div> -<div class="verse">I’d love them all till I were grey,</div> -<div class="verse">But best and dearest, dear Edme!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Rondeau.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THY breast, dear Doris, ever be</div></div> -<div class="verse">All-hallowed, consecrate to me,</div> -<div class="indent">A rest where this my heart may go</div> -<div class="indent">Whatever tempests beat and blow;</div> -<div class="verse">A shelter that my soul may see</div> -<div class="verse">Though all the world speak grievously.</div> -<div class="verse">Warmed in its softness, dear, by thee,</div> -<div class="indent">My love shall sometime come to know</div> -<div class="indent14">Thy breast.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And sometime, too, so reverently</div> -<div class="verse">Thou couldst not, Sweet, refuse my plea.</div> -<div class="indent">I’ll kiss the dimple that I know</div> -<div class="indent">Betwixt those little hills of snow</div> -<div class="verse">Waits, till my lips press passionately</div> -<div class="indent14">Thy breast!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">When I First Saw Edme</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">(Villanelle.)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WHEN I first saw Edme</div></div> -<div class="verse">She was clad all in blue.</div> -<div class="verse">A cold colour, you say?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Yes, I thought so, that day,</div> -<div class="indent">And my hopes were but few</div> -<div class="verse">When I first saw Edme;</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now, of azure array</div> -<div class="indent">I’ve quite altered my view—</div> -<div class="verse">A cold colour, you say?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Is the sky cold in May?</div> -<div class="indent">How little I knew,</div> -<div class="verse">When I first saw Edme.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">All the sweetness there lay</div> -<div class="indent">In the shade that means “true!”...</div> -<div class="verse">A cold colour, you say?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Ah, my heart’s quite away.</div> -<div class="indent">The sad moment I rue</div> -<div class="verse">When I first saw Edme.</div> -<div class="indent">A <i>cold</i> colour, you say?...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">My Old Coat.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“Sois-moi fidle, pauvre habit que j’aime.”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>Branger.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">BE ever true to me, thou well-loved coat,</div></div> -<div class="verse">For we are growing old together now,</div> -<div class="verse">These ten long years I’ve brushed thee every day</div> -<div class="verse">Myself; great Socrates the Sage, I trow</div> -<div class="verse">Had not done better! And if remorseless Fate</div> -<div class="verse">Gnaw with sharp tooth that poor, thin cloth of thine,</div> -<div class="verse">Resist, say I, with calm philosophy,</div> -<div class="verse">Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">How I recall—(for even now I’m bless’d</div> -<div class="verse">With a good memory!), that glad day of days</div> -<div class="verse">When first I wore thee! It was at my feast;</div> -<div class="verse">My friends to crown my glory, sang thy praise.</div> -<div class="verse">Thy poverty and age that honor me</div> -<div class="verse">Have not yet made their early love decline—</div> -<div class="verse">They’re ready still to feast us once again.</div> -<div class="verse">Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Have I perfumed thee with those floods of musk,</div> -<div class="verse">Which the vain fop exhales before his glass?</div> -<div class="verse">Have I exposed thee, waiting audience,</div> -<div class="verse">To scorn and laughter of the great who pass?</div> -<div class="verse">Just for a paltry ribbon, all fair wide France</div> -<div class="verse">Was rent apart, but simply I combine</div> -<div class="verse">A few sweet wild-flowers for thine ornament.</div> -<div class="verse">Let us not part, thou dear old friend of mine!...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Fear nevermore those days of struggling vain,</div> -<div class="verse">When the same lowly destiny was ours;</div> -<div class="verse">Those days of pleasure intermix’d with pain,</div> -<div class="verse">Of sunny sky o’ercast by April showers.</div> -<div class="verse">Soon comes the night, for evening shadows fall,</div> -<div class="verse">And soon forever must I my coat resign.</div> -<div class="verse">Wait yet a little, together we’ll end it all,</div> -<div class="verse">And never part, thou dear old friend of mine!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">A Pantoum.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">HERE I must lie on my bed,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Longing for health again.</div> -<div class="verse">Crazy thoughts whirl in my head,</div> -<div class="indent">Mix with that endless pain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Longing for health again—</div> -<div class="indent">Dreams of walking once more</div> -<div class="verse">Mix with that endless pain.</div> -<div class="indent">Lying in bed is a bore!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Dreams of walking once more,</div> -<div class="indent">After these months of repression,</div> -<div class="verse">Lying in bed is a bore</div> -<div class="indent">Past any means of expression!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">After these months of repression,</div> -<div class="indent">To wander, and study, and revel...</div> -<div class="verse">Past any means of expression,</div> -<div class="indent">Pain, you’re a villainous devil!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To wander, and study, and revel,</div> -<div class="indent">To eat, drink, and live like a man...</div> -<div class="verse">(Pain, you’re a villainous devil!...)</div> -<div class="indent">With never a doctor to ban—</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -<div class="verse">To eat, drink, and live like a man,</div> -<div class="indent">To wander in meadow and wood,</div> -<div class="verse">With never a doctor to ban</div> -<div class="indent">Those things that I know to be good...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To wander in meadow and wood,</div> -<div class="indent">With Someone, enjoying October,</div> -<div class="verse">Those things that I know to be good,</div> -<div class="indent">The sky, be it sunny or sober.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">With Someone, enjoying October,</div> -<div class="indent">To see the gay trees and the hills,</div> -<div class="verse">The sky, be it sunny or sober,</div> -<div class="indent">With a curse on all doctors and pills...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">To see the gay trees and the hills,</div> -<div class="indent">Hope is quick faded and fled.</div> -<div class="verse">With a curse on all doctors and pills,</div> -<div class="indent">Here I must lie on my bed!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">When Doris Deigns.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WHEN Doris deigns to gaze on me</div></div> -<div class="verse">All happy thoughts be mine;</div> -<div class="verse">Her eyes are two twin stars, I wis,</div> -<div class="verse">Bright in my soul they shine;</div> -<div class="verse">No earth-born flower one half so fair</div> -<div class="verse">As she, no joy can aught compare</div> -<div class="verse">With my sweet fire of love, perdie,</div> -<div class="verse">When Doris deigns to gaze on me!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">When Doris deigns to smile on me</div> -<div class="verse">The whole world brighter grows;</div> -<div class="verse">A clearer azure takes the sky,</div> -<div class="verse">A deeper blush the rose;</div> -<div class="verse">The circling lark upon the wing</div> -<div class="verse">A sweeter, purer song doth sing,</div> -<div class="verse">And just a bit of Heav’n I see,</div> -<div class="verse">When Doris deigns to smile on me!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">THE YEAR</h2></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Spring.<br /> - -MAY EVENING.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">SILENCE and peace. The warm, love-bringing Night</div></div> -<div class="verse">From the pure zenith soft and slow descending</div> -<div class="verse">Lulls the sweet air to rest, with the day’s ending,</div> -<div class="verse">Save where the dark bat wheels his fickle flight.</div> -<div class="verse">Deep glows the rosy-golden West, still bright,</div> -<div class="verse">Beyond the plumy toss of elms down-bending,</div> -<div class="verse">Whilst on the close-cut lawns, blurring and bending,</div> -<div class="verse">Tall chapel-windows cast their ruddy light.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now the clear blue of the mid dome of heaven</div> -<div class="verse">Darkens, immeasurably deep and still.</div> -<div class="verse">That one full star which ushers in the even</div> -<div class="verse">Burns in rapt glory o’er the steadfast spire;</div> -<div class="verse">And the Night-angel strews at his sweet will</div> -<div class="verse">The silvern star-dust of the heavenly choir.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Summer.<br /> - -AUGUST RAIN.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">DEAD is the day, and through the list’ning leaves</div></div> -<div class="verse">The wind-dirge sighs. Sad at my dim-lit pane</div> -<div class="verse">I darkling sit to hear the pattering rain</div> -<div class="verse">And pebbly drip that plashes from the eaves.</div> -<div class="verse">Far in the misty fields loll sodden sheaves,</div> -<div class="verse">Whilst every wheel-mark in the rutty lane</div> -<div class="verse">Leads down its trickling rivulet to drain</div> -<div class="verse">Marsh-meadows where the knotted willow grieves.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Gray afternoon to dusk hath given place,</div> -<div class="verse">And dusk to silent darkness falls again.</div> -<div class="verse">Listless, to see the sad earth veil her face,</div> -<div class="verse">I watch the miry fields, the swollen rills,</div> -<div class="verse">And, farther, through my glimmering windowpane,</div> -<div class="verse">The rain-swept valley and the fading hills...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Autumn<br /> - -NOVEMBER IN CAMBRIDGE.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">EVEN in her mourning is the College fair,</div></div> -<div class="verse">With burial robes of scarlet leaves and gold</div> -<div class="verse">That flicker down in misty morning cold</div> -<div class="verse">Or fall reluctant through gray evening air.</div> -<div class="verse">The Gothic elms rise desolately bare;</div> -<div class="verse">A clinging flame the twisted ivy crawls</div> -<div class="verse">Its blood-red course athwart the time-worn walls</div> -<div class="verse">And spreads its crimson arras everywhere.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">High noon brings some wan ghost of summer, still;</div> -<div class="verse">Fresh stand the rose-trees yet, the lawns show green</div> -<div class="verse">With leaves inlaid, and still the pigeons fly</div> -<div class="verse">Round sun-warm gables where they court and preen;</div> -<div class="verse">But evenfall comes shuddering down, a-chill,</div> -<div class="verse">And bare black branches fret the leaden sky.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Winter.<br /> - -HAMPTON HOLIDAYS.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">LAST comes December with his ruffian wind</div></div> -<div class="verse">Whirled from the maelstrom of the polar sea</div> -<div class="verse">To sweep our mighty hill in mockery</div> -<div class="verse">Of such enshrouding snows as would be kind</div> -<div class="verse">And wrap their frozen mother. Stiffly lined</div> -<div class="verse">Through thin and crackling ice the leaves lie stark</div> -<div class="verse">As hoar Caina’s ice-locked souls, and dark</div> -<div class="verse">In the dark air the branches toss and grind.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then dawns another day when winds are still;</div> -<div class="verse">From our frost-flashing village on the hill</div> -<div class="verse">We greet the laggard sun, and far below</div> -<div class="verse">All down the valley see the silver spread,</div> -<div class="verse">Save where the dim fir-forest’s pungent bed</div> -<div class="verse">Lies thatched by tufted pine-plumes bright with snow.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">MORS OMNIUM VICTOR</h2></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Gunga Din in Hell.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“An’ I’ll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din!”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>Kipling.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">GREEN crawling slime, that bubbles clotted blood;</div></div> -<div class="verse">White wraiths of fetid steam that rise and curl,</div> -<div class="verse">And blood-red mist, convolving in a swirl</div> -<div class="verse">Of lurid heat, o’er that putrescent flood;</div> -<div class="verse">And under all, a seething, rotting mud—</div> -<div class="verse">Torn souls that once were men—flayed, bleeding souls,</div> -<div class="verse">Souls drenched with gore from gangrenous bullet-holes,</div> -<div class="verse">Green, sightless eyes—and blood, and blood, and blood!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Lo! Gunga Din! He cometh smeared with gore</div> -<div class="verse">That dribbles from cleft forehead to the skin</div> -<div class="verse">Of putrid drink, one black foot on Hell’s shore,</div> -<div class="verse">One in the slime. A flayed hand toward him grasps,</div> -<div class="verse">And one blind, shattered head that bleeds for sin</div> -<div class="verse">Bloats forth its purple tongue in strangling gasps.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Cui Bono?</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">NAY, vex me not with dead theologies,</div></div> -<div class="verse">With creeds outworn and vain polemic strife;</div> -<div class="verse">To solve the riddles of some future life</div> -<div class="indent">Why chill my soul with stark philosophies?</div> -<div class="indent">What then to me is Aristoteles,</div> -<div class="verse">Plato, or he who had the shrewish wife</div> -<div class="verse">(Small blame to her!), or Pyrrho’s doubtings, rife </div> -<div class="indent">With contradiction’s maziest subtleties?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Only one thing is sure—they all are dead;</div> -<div class="verse">Sere theologians, wranglers of the schools,</div> -<div class="verse">Philosophers and creedsmen have surcease</div> -<div class="indent">From war, their dust no better than the fools’</div> -<div class="verse">Wherewith ’tis mingled undistinguishd.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">So, vex me not, but go your ways in peace...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Bride-Bed.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">SHE died and by her bed I sat all night.</div></div> -<div class="verse">I had no tears; it was o’er soon to weep</div> -<div class="verse">In those first hours; my heart was cleft too deep</div> -<div class="verse">For pain to harbor there. A waning light</div> -<div class="verse">From the old moon englorified her bright</div> -<div class="verse">And unadornd hair, a heavy braid</div> -<div class="verse">Across her breast. I watched her, unafraid</div> -<div class="verse">To warm that leaden hand so waxen-white.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">This was her Bride-bed—Death her lover was</div> -<div class="verse">As she had promised I sometime should be.</div> -<div class="verse">She lay entwind in his arms, and I</div> -<div class="verse">Kept watch, and a great cold came over us...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">At last the untroubled stars that gazed on me</div> -<div class="verse">Waxed pale and faded in the morning sky.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Dead Loves.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">LONG summer nights with moon that yearneth down</div></div> -<div class="verse">On endless passion, through uncounted years,</div> -<div class="verse">On flames of love more hot than all those tears</div> -<div class="verse">Of ardent pain it worketh aye can drown;</div> -<div class="verse">Long summer nights in vast Assyria’s town,</div> -<div class="verse">At white-walled Athens, in imperial Rome,</div> -<div class="verse">Or midst dim Northern forests, by the foam</div> -<div class="verse">Of seas unsailed ere Arthur won renown.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Moonlight and leafshade—nights full sweet and long:</div> -<div class="verse">“O Love, my love, how white thy breast! Thy kiss</div> -<div class="verse">Upon my mouth, how mad!”—“And thou, how strong</div> -<div class="verse">Thine arms! I fear thy passion!”—“Tell me, must</div> -<div class="verse">Not Time and Death bow down to love like this?...”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now, even their graves are crumbled into dust.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Death, the Friend.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">FULL long these dreary weeks of dule I spend</div></div> -<div class="verse">On this my narrow bed of bitter pain.</div> -<div class="verse">Alike to me are sunshine, cloud or rain,</div> -<div class="indent">The day’s beginning or its sombre end;</div> -<div class="indent">Even sleep itself doth little comfort lend,</div> -<div class="verse">For in vast dreams the torment comes again</div> -<div class="verse">Vague and distorted by my feverish brain</div> -<div class="indent">Until I wake and long for Death the Friend.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Death! I do fear that empty, breathless Night</div> -<div class="verse">Thou bringest, not the sweat and agony,</div> -<div class="verse">The struggling breath, the terror or the sight</div> -<div class="verse">Of Earth and all my being leaving me;</div> -<div class="indent">For couldst thou promise an awakening—</div> -<div class="indent">Then, Death, enfold me with thy shadowy wing!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">La Jeune Fille.</h3></div> - - - -<p class="center">“Elle tait bien belle, le matin, -sans atours!”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">HOW fair, at dawn, how simply did she go,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Watching her new-born garden flowrets thrive,</div> -<div class="verse">Spying her bees in their ambrosial hive,</div> -<div class="verse">Ling’ring beside each hedge and hawthorn row!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">How fair at eventide lead on the maze</div> -<div class="verse">Of the mad dance, whilst in her massy hair</div> -<div class="verse">Sapphires and roses woven crowned more fair</div> -<div class="verse">That face illumined by the torches’ blaze!</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">How fair was she beneath her pure soft veil,</div> -<div class="verse">Outfloating wide upon the listening night;</div> -<div class="verse">Silent we stood and far, to watch that sight,</div> -<div class="verse">Happy to glimpse her in the starlight pale.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">How fair was she! Each day some sweetness gave,</div> -<div class="verse">Some vague dear hope, pure thoughts and free from care.</div> -<div class="verse">Love, love was all she lacked, to grow more fair.</div> -<div class="verse">Peace!... Through the fields they bear her to the grave!...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Lucie.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Mes chers amis, quand je mourrai,</div> -<div class="verse">Plantez un saule au cimetire.</div> -<div class="verse">J’aime son feuillage plor,</div> -<div class="verse">La pleur m’en est douce et chre,</div> -<div class="verse">Et son ombre sera lgre</div> -<div class="verse">A la terre o je dormirai.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verseright"><i>Alfred de Musset.</i></div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">DEAR friends belovd, when I die,</div></div> -<div class="verse">Plant near my grave a willow-tree.</div> -<div class="verse">I love its pale, down-drooping leaves,</div> -<div class="verse">Its grace is sweet and dear to me,</div> -<div class="verse">And light its tender shade will be</div> -<div class="verse">Upon the green earth where I lie...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">One night we were alone and by her side</div> -<div class="verse">I sat, she drooped her head and as a-dream</div> -<div class="verse">Over the spinet let her fair hand glide.</div> -<div class="verse">So soft the murmur was it scarce could seem</div> -<div class="verse">More than a zephyr whispering in the reeds,</div> -<div class="verse">Soft moving lest the birds, warm-nested there</div> -<div class="verse">Should hear and wake. The soft, voluptuous air</div> -<div class="verse">Of that sweet summer night breathed forth to us</div> -<div class="verse">From flowery chalices beside the glimmering stream.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Far in the silent grove the chestnut-trees</div> -<div class="verse">And ancient oaks swayed their sad branches slow;</div> -<div class="verse">We sat and, listening to the amorous breeze,</div> -<div class="verse">Through the half-opened casement let the low</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet breath of Spring float in. The winds were still,</div> -<div class="verse">The plain deserted. All alone we were</div> -<div class="verse">And very young... Lucie was blonde and pale</div> -<div class="verse">And pensive. As I musing gazed on her</div> -<div class="verse">No sweeter eyes than hers e’er pierced the deep</div> -<div class="verse">Of purest heaven, or mirrored back its blue.</div> -<div class="verse">I with her beauty drunken was; in all</div> -<div class="verse">The world I loved but her, and yet so true</div> -<div class="verse">So pure she was I loved her as one loves</div> -<div class="verse">A sister, in all innocence. We two</div> -<div class="verse">Sat silent and alone; my hand touched hers,</div> -<div class="verse">I watched the dreams upon her face and knew</div> -<div class="verse">In my own soul how strong to heal distress</div> -<div class="verse">Are those twin signs of peace and happiness,</div> -<div class="verse">Youth in the heart, youth mirrored on the brow.</div> -<div class="verse">The moon, uprising in the cloudless skies,</div> -<div class="verse">With silver fret-work flooded her, and now</div> -<div class="verse">Her smile became an angel’s smile; she sang,</div> -<div class="verse">Seeing her image shining in mine eyes.</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Daughter of sorrow, Harmony! Harmony!</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet speech for love by Nature set apart!</div> -<div class="verse">To us thou camest from Italy—to her</div> -<div class="verse">From Heaven. Sweet language of the heart,</div> -<div class="verse">In thee alone that maiden, Thought, afraid</div> -<div class="verse">And hurt by even a passing cloud, may speak,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet keep her modest veil, and sheltered be.</div> -<div class="verse">Who knows the mysteries that a child may hear</div> -<div class="verse">And utter in thy sighs divine, like thee</div> -<div class="verse">Born of the air he breathes, sweet as his voice,</div> -<div class="verse">And sad as his sad heart? A glance, a tear</div> -<div class="verse">Is seen, yet all the rest is mystery</div> -<div class="verse">Unknown to the careless world, like that of waves,</div> -<div class="verse">Of night, or of the unfathomed wilderness...</div> -<div class="verse">We were alone and sad; I looked on her.</div> -<div class="verse">The dying echo of her song seemed still</div> -<div class="verse">To vibrate in our souls. All passionless</div> -<div class="verse">Drooping upon my heart, she leaned her head.</div> -<div class="verse">The cry of Desdemona didst thou hear</div> -<div class="verse">In thee, dear girl? I know not—only this,</div> -<div class="verse">That thou didst weep, and on thine all-adored</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet mouth in sadness let me press mine own;</div> -<div class="verse">Thy sorrow was it that received my kiss...</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -<div class="verse">So kissed I thee, all cold and colourless;</div> -<div class="verse">So, two short months being sped, wert thou</div> -<div class="verse">Laid in the grave; so didst thou fade in death</div> -<div class="verse">Oh my chaste flower! And thy dying was</div> -<div class="verse">A smile as sweet as thy fair life had been.</div> -<div class="verse">God took thee pure as when He gave thee breath.</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="verse">Sweet mystery of the home of innocence,</div> -<div class="verse">Songs, dreams of love, laughter and childish words,</div> -<div class="verse">And thou, all-conquering charm, unknown and mild,</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Yet strong to make even Faustus pause before</div> -<div class="verse">The sill of Marguerite at thy command,</div> -<div class="verse">Where are you all? Peace to thy soul, oh child!</div> -<div class="verse">Profoundest peace be to thy memories!</div> -<div class="verse">Farewell! On summer nights thy fair white hand</div> -<div class="verse">Will rest no more upon the ivory keys...</div> - - -<hr class="tb" /><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> - - -<div class="verse">Dear friends belovd, when I die,</div> -<div class="verse">Plant near my grave a willow-tree.</div> -<div class="verse">I love its pale, down-drooping leaves</div> -<div class="verse">Its grace is sweet and dear to me,</div> -<div class="verse">And light its tender shade will be.</div> -<div class="verse">Upon the green earth where I lie....</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Luctus in Morte Passeris.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">“Lugete, O Veneres Cupidenesque, et quantum est hominum -venustiorum.”<br /> -<br /> -<span class="indentleft"><i>C. Valerius Catullus.</i></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">I BID you all, ye Loves and Cupids, mourn,</div></div> -<div class="verse">With what of pitying kindness men may know.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The sparrow of my little maid forlorn</div> -<div class="verse">Ay, even my sweetheart’s sparrow, cherished so,</div> -<div class="verse">(Loved like her very eyes, ah heavy woe!)</div> -<div class="verse">Is dead. Full sweet was he, and knew her well</div> -<div class="verse">As she her mother knew, nor long would stray</div> -<div class="verse">From her fair breast, save here to hop, or there;</div> -<div class="verse">His pretty pipings were for her alway.</div> -<div class="verse">Yet now he wings the shadowy gloom of Hell,</div> -<div class="verse">Whence none return to breathe Earth’s pleasant air.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">But curses on thee, dark and evil shade</div> -<div class="verse">So to engulf all things that lovely be!</div> -<div class="verse">Thou’st robbed her sparrow from my little maid;</div> -<div class="verse">(Alas the crime, the sparrow stark and dead!)</div> -<div class="verse">And now with swollen eyes, because of thee</div> -<div class="verse">She weeps, alack, nor will be comforted.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Death in December.</h3></div> - -<h4>I.</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap4">WITH roses will I strew our bed</div></div> -<div class="verse">Where all thine own thou madest me;</div> -<div class="verse">With rose-wreaths I entwine thy head</div> -<div class="verseright">So dear, so dead.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">This is Love’s inmost place, where we</div> -<div class="verse">Learned and with madness learned again </div> -<div class="verse">And knew Love’s passionate agony</div> -<div class="verseright">That wasteth me.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Now is thy room and mine Death’s room,</div> -<div class="verse">And this our bed (O burning kiss!)</div> -<div class="verse">Is made Death’s icy bed. The tomb</div> -<div class="verseright">Shrouds it in gloom.</div> -<hr class="tb" /> -</div></div></div> - - - -<h4>II.</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The snow beats up about the pane</div> -<div class="verse">Where once we watched the August night,</div> -<div class="verse">And wild mad winds drive on amain</div> -<div class="verseright">Across the plain.</div> -<hr class="tb" /> -</div></div></div> - - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> -<h4>III.</h4> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Alone!... Alone? Beneath my heart</div> -<div class="verse">Fainting I feel our new life beat,</div> -<div class="verse">Where our lives, joined, though dead thou art,</div> -<div class="verseright">Share each a part.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">On thy clear temples, bleeding-red</div> -<div class="verse">The rose-wreaths twine, the flowers die.</div> -<div class="verse">With roses do I deck our bed</div> -<div class="verseright">Where thou liest dead.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">The Royal Council.</h3></div> - - -<p class="center">(To the Peruvian Mummies in the Peabody Museum at -Cambridge.)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap2">BOWED be three time-gnawed heads in thoughts profound</div></div> -<div class="verse">On crackling breast, on fleshless hands, on knees,</div> -<div class="verse">Sunk in the depths of endless reveries</div> -<div class="indent">Whilst foolish sun and fretful earth spin round.</div> -<div class="indent">By night they counsel, argue, plan, expound</div> -<div class="verse">And hold high court as once by tropic seas;</div> -<div class="verse">By day they rightly take their royal ease</div> -<div class="indent">As fitteth those whom Death no more can hound.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Sage King, and ye two Councillors of State,</div> -<div class="verse">We look on you with ignorant, living eyes.</div> -<div class="verse">Ye fear no death who be already dead—</div> -<div class="indent">Time pricks you not, nor haste. Ye sit and wait,</div> -<div class="verse">Each thoughtful, passionless and very wise,</div> -<div class="indent">With shrivelled bones and parchment-covered head...</div> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -<h3 class="nobreak">Carmen Mortis.</h3></div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><div class="drop-cap3">THIS is the Song of Death,</div></div> -<div class="verse">This is the burial-note</div> -<div class="verse">After the end of breath</div> -<div class="verse">Gasped by corrupted throat;</div> -<div class="verse">After the passing-breath</div> -<div class="verse">Heard from the grave remote;</div> -<div class="verse">This is the Song of Death,</div> -<div class="verse">This is the burial-note...</div> -</div></div></div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">O, sweet it is to be long since dead</div> -<div class="verse">And buried in earth so cold;</div> -<div class="indent">To feel on the roof of thy narrow bed</div> -<div class="verse">The weight of the sodden mould,</div> -<div class="verse">To lie in the dark of an endless night</div> -<div class="indent">And the lees of an oozing slime—</div> -<div class="verse">I know these joys, for I have been dead</div> -<div class="indent">And buried, a long, long time...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">My lips they are drawn in a ghastly smile</div> -<div class="verse">But through them there goes no breath;</div> -<div class="indent">And my eyes they are dead and sunk in my head,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet forever they stare, in death,</div> -<div class="verse">For I look at the rotting burial-boards</div> -<div class="indent">Close sagging above my head;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -<div class="verse">Yea, I have been buried a long, long time,</div> -<div class="indent">For I have been long since dead...</div> -<div class="indent">My corpse is a-cold, for the chilling mould</div> -<div class="verse">Is about me on every side.</div> -<div class="indent">I lie like a stone, with my Terror, alone,</div> -<div class="verse">For here in the grave I died...</div> -<div class="verse">Yea, I screamed full loud in my ghastly shroud</div> -<div class="indent">When I woke in the noisome gloom,</div> -<div class="verse">And the sweat of my agony froze like ice</div> -<div class="indent">As I fought with my fearful doom...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">But now—I am dead, though my lips still laugh</div> -<div class="verse">In the motionless black of night,</div> -<div class="indent">Though my bleared eyes stare in the grave, for they see</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Not even the glow-worm’s light;</div> -<div class="verse">Yet still I can see that to buried be</div> -<div class="indent">Is a sweet and a happy thing,</div> -<div class="verse">For I sing my Song in the House of Death,</div> -<div class="indent">And this is the Song I sing:</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">Welcome - slimy - worm - with - sightless - head -</div> -<div class="verse">Blindly - burrowing - in - the - fearful - night -</div> -<div class="verse">Happy - shouldst - thou - be - for - lack - of - sight -</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -<div class="indent">Since - thou - canst - not - see - that - I - am - dead -</div> -<div class="indent">When - thou - comest - from - thy - secret - place -</div> -<div class="verse">Eating - through - the - earth - with - silent - care -</div> -<div class="verse">Boldly - come - I - bid - and - boldly - dare -</div> -<div class="indent">Down - to - drop - upon - my - leaden - face -</div> -<div class="indent">Drag - thy - sluggish - slime - across - my - eyes -</div> -<div class="verse">They - will - never - close - to - touch - of - thine -</div> -<div class="verse">Coil - within - these - hideous - lips - of - mine -</div> -<div class="indent">Where - a - Maid - breathed - long - ago - her - sighs -</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Welcome - slimy - worm - with - creeping - head -</div> -<div class="verse">Meet - it - is - that - thou - my - friend - shouldst - be -</div> -<div class="verse">Happy - art - thou - since - thou - canst - not - see -</div> -<div class="indent">I - am - buried - deep - and - I - am - dead</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -<div class="indent">Then these be the words of the Song of Death</div> -<div class="verse">That I sing in my prison-cell.</div> -<div class="indent">It charms the worms with the hooded heads,</div> -<div class="verse">And the worms I love full well.</div> -<div class="verse">It charms the worms, though my singing is</div> -<div class="indent">But a mouthing, mumbling groan,</div> -<div class="verse">For I have no breath in this House of Death</div> -<div class="indent">And I mutter with lips alone...</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="indent">So, my tale it is told of the dread and cold</div> -<div class="verse">In the depths of this livid gloom;</div> -<div class="indent">And I motionless lie, as I strive to die,</div> -<div class="verse">As I rot in my narrow room,</div> -<div class="verse">For I am not dead whilst my fearful head</div> -<div class="indent">The foul, fat worms forsake;</div> -<div class="verse">But, when that is gone, then my dream it is done,</div> -<div class="indent">And I sleep at last, never to wake...</div> -<hr class="tb" /> -</div></div></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<div class="verse">This is the Song of Death,</div> -<div class="verse">This is the burial-note</div> -<div class="verse">After the end of breath</div> -<div class="verse">Gasped by corrupted throat;</div> -<div class="verse">After the passing breath</div> -<div class="verse">Heard from the grave remote;</div> -<div class="verse">This is the burial-note,</div> -<div class="verse">This is the Song of Death...</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3 class="nobreak">FOOTNOTES:</h3></div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> From Gatan de Maulne’s “Course des Grands Masqus.” Here -reprinted by courtesy of the New York “Herald.” To this translation -was awarded the Herald’s First Prize of 500 francs.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> This North Country ballad probably dates from about 1525. It -was found in a fragmentary condition in a copy of the 1684 edition -of Abraham Cowley’s Poetical Works, and is here for the first -time completed and made public.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:</p> - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Underneath the Bough, by George Allan England - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH *** - -***** This file should be named 60870-h.htm or 60870-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/8/7/60870/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. 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