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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6268.txt b/6268.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbfe0bf --- /dev/null +++ b/6268.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1868 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook Embers, by Gilbert Parker, Volume 1. +#95 in our series by Gilbert Parker + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: Embers, Volume 1. + +Author: Gilbert Parker + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6268] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 21, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMBERS, BY PARKER, V1 *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + + + + + +EMBERS + +By Gilbert Parker + +Volume 1. + + + + +CONTENTS + +Volume 1. +EMBERS +ROSLEEN +WILL YOU COME BACK HOME? +MARY CALLAGHAN AND ME +KILDARE +YOU'LL TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE +FARCALLADEN RISE +GIVE ME THE LIGHT HEART +WHERE SHALL WE BETAKE US? +NO MAN'S LAND +AT SEA +ATHENIAN +EYES LIKE THE SEA +UNDER THE CLIFF +OPEN TRY GATE +SUMMER IS COME +O FLOWER OF ALL THE WORLD +WAS IT SOME GOLDEN STAR? +I HEARD THE DESERT CALLING +THE FORGOTTEN WORD +WHAT WILL IT MATTER? +THE COURIER STAR +CONTENTS +CONTENTS +THE WORLD IN MAKING +HEW +O SON OF MAN +AT THE END OF THE WORLD +WAYFARERS +THE RED PATROL +THE YELLOW SWAN +THE HEART OF THE PIONEER +THE NORTH TRAIL +ALONE +THE SCARLET HILLS +THE WOODSMAN LOVER +QUI VIVE +THE LITTLE HOUSE +SPINNING +FLY AWAY, MY HEART +SUZON +MY LITTLE TENDER HEART +THE MEN OF THE NORTH +THE CROWNING +CLOSE UP +W. E. H. +WHEN BLOWS THE WIND + + +Volume 2. +DOLLY +LIFE'S SWEET WAGES +TO THE VALLEY +THE LILY FLOWER +LOVE IN HER COLD GRAVE LIES +GRANADA, GRANADA +THE NEW APHRODITE +AN ANCIENT PLEDGE +THE TRIBUTE OF KING HATH +THERE IS AN ORCHARD +HEART OF THE WORLD +EPITAPHS +THE BEGGAR +THE MAID +THE FOOL +THE FIGHTER +THE SEA-REAPERS +THE WATCHER +THE WAKING +WHEN ONE FORGETS +ALOES AND MYRRH +IN WASTE PLACES +LAST OF ALL +AFTER +REMEDIAL +THE TWILIGHT OF LOVE +IRREVOCABLE +THE LAST DREAM +WAITING +IN MAYTIME +INSIDE THE BAR +THE CHILDREN +LITTLE GARAINE +TO A LITTLE CHILD +L'EMPEREUR, MORT +PHYLLIS +BAIRNIE + + +Volume 3. +IN CAMDEN TOWN +JEAN +A MEMORY +IN CAMP AT JUNIPER COVE +JUNIPER COVE TWENTY YEARS AFTER +LISTENING +NEVERTHELESS +ISHMAEL +OVER THE HILLS +THE DELIVERER +THE DESERT ROAD +A SON OF THE NILE +A FAREWELL FROM THE HAREM +AN ARAB LOVE SONG +THE CAMEL-DRIVER TO HIS CAMEL +THE TALL DABOON +THERE IS SORROW ON THE SEA +THE AUSTRALIAN STOCKRIDER +THE BRIDGE OF THE HUNDRED SPANS +NELL LATORE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +I had not intended that Embers should ever be given to the public, but +friends whose judgment I respect have urged me to include it in the +subscription edition at least, and with real reluctance I have consented. +It was a pleasure to me to have one piece of work of mine which made no +bid for pence or praise; but if that is a kind of selfishness, perhaps +unnecessary, since no one may wish to read the verses, I will now free +myself from any chance of reproach. This much I will say to soothe away +my own compunctions, that the book will only make the bid for popularity +or consideration with near a score of others, and not separately, and +that my responsibility is thus modified. The preface to Embers says all +that need be said about a collection which is, on the whole, merely a +book of youth and memory and impressionism in verse. At least it was all +spontaneous; it was not made to order on any page of it, and it is the +handful left from very many handfuls destroyed. Since the first edition +(intended only for my personal friends) was published I have written +"Rosleen," "Where Shall We Betake Us?" "Granada," "Mary Callaghan and +Me," "The Crowning" (on the Coronation of King Edward VII), the fragment +"Kildare" and "I Heard the Desert Calling"; and I have also included +others like "The Tall Dakoon" and "The Red Patrol," written over twenty +years ago. "Mary Callaghan and Me" has been set to music by Mr. Max +Muller, and has made many friends, and "The Crowning" was the Coronation +ode of 'The People', which gave a prize, too ample I think, for the best +musical setting of the lines. Many of the other pieces in 'Embers' have +been set to music by distinguished composers like Sir Edward Elgar, who +has made a song-cycle of several, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, Mr. Arthur +Foote, Mrs. Amy Woodforde Finden, Robert Somerville, and others. The +first to have musical setting was "You'll Travel Far and Wide," to which +in 1895 Mr. Arthur Foote gave fame as "An Irish Folk Song." Like "O +Flower of All the World," by Mrs. Amy Woodforde Finden, it has had a +world of admirers, and such singers as Mrs. Henschel helped to make Mr. +Foote's music loved by thousands, and conferred something more than an +ephemeral acceptance of the author's words. + + + + + When thou comest to the safe tent of the good comrade, + abide there till thy going forth with a stedfast mind; and + if, at the hospitable fire, thou hast learned the secret of a + heart, thou shalt keep it holy, as the North Wind the + trouble of the Stars. + + + + + PROEM + + And the Angel said: + "What hast thou for all thy travail-- + what dost thou bring with thee out + of the dust of the world?" + + And the man answered: + "Behold, I bring one perfect yesterday!" + + And the Angel questioned: + "Hast thou then no to-morrow? + Hast thou no hope?" + + And the man replied: + "Who am I that I should hope! + Out of all my life I have been granted one + sheaf of memory." + + And the Angel said: + "Is this all!" + + And the man answered: + "Of all else was I robbed by the way: + but Memory was hidden safely + in my heart--the world found it not." + + + + + + + ROSLEEN + + "She's the darlin' of the parish, she's the pride of + Inniskillen; + 'Twould make your heart lep up to see her trippin' + down the glen; + There's not a lad of life and fame that wouldn't take + her shillin' + And inlist inside her service-did ye hear her laugh- + in' then? + + Did ye see her with her hand in mine the day that + Clancy married? + Ah, darlin', how we footed it-the grass it was so + green! + And when the neighbours wandered home, I was the + guest that tarried, + An hour plucked from Paradise--come back to me, + Rosleen! + + Across the seas, beyand the hills, by lovely Inniskillen, + The rigiment come marchin'--I hear the call once + more + Shure, a woman's but a woman--so I took the Ser- + geant's shillin', + For the pride o' me was hurted--shall I never see + her more? + + She turned her face away from me, and black as night + the land became; + Her eyes were jewels of the sky, the finest iver seen; + She left me for another lad, he was a lad of life and + fame, + And the heart of me was hurted--but there's none + that's like Rosleen!" + + + + + + + WILL YOU COME BACK HOME? + + Will you come back home, where the young larks are + singin'? + The door is open wide, and the bells of Lynn are ringin'; + There's a little lake I know, + And a boat you used to row + To the shore beyond that's quiet--will you come back + home? + + Will you come back, darlin'? Never heed the pain and + blightin', + Never trouble that you're wounded, that you bear the + scars of fightin'; + Here's the luck o' Heaven to you, + Here's the hand of love will brew you + The cup of peace--ah, darlin', will you come back + home? + + + + + + + MARY CALLAGHAN AND ME + + It was as fine a churchful as you ever clapt an eye on; + Oh, the bells was ringin' gaily, and the sun was shinin' + free; + There was singers, there was clargy--"Bless ye both," + says Father Tryon-- + They was weddin' Mary Callaghan and me. + + There was gatherin' of women, there was hush upon the + stairway, + There was whisperin' and smilin', but it was no place + for me; + A little ship was comin' into harbour through the fair- + way-- + It belongs to Mary Callaghan and me. + + Shure, the longest day has endin', and the wildest storm + has fallin'-- + There's a young gossoon in yander, and he sits upon + my knee; + There's a churchful for the christenin'--do you hear + the imp a-callin'? + He's the pride of Mary Callaghan and me. + + + + + + + KILDARE + + He's the man that killed Black Care, + He's the pride of all Kildare; + Shure the devil takes his hat off whin he comes: + 'Tis the clargy bow before him, + 'Tis the women they adore him, + And the Lord Lieutenant orders out the drums-- + For his hangin', all the drums, + All the drums! + + + + + + + YOU'LL TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE + + You'll travel far and wide, dear, but you'll come back + again, + You'll come back to your father and your mother in + the glen, + Although we should be lyin' 'neath the heather grasses + then-- + You'll be comin' back, my darlin'! + + You'll see the icebergs sailin' along the wintry foam, + The white hair of the breakers, and the wild swans as + they roam; + But you'll not forget the rowan beside your father's + home + You'll be comin' back, my darlin'! + + New friends will clasp your hand, dear, new faces on + you smile; + You'll bide with them and love them, but you'll long + for us the while; + For the word across the water, and the farewell by the + stile-- + For the true heart's here, my darlin'! + + You'll hear the wild birds singin' beneath a brighter sky, + The roof-tree of your home, dear, it will be grand and + high; + But you'll hunger for the hearthstone where, a child, + you used to lie-- + You'll be comin' back, my darlin'! + + And when your foot is weary, and when your heart is sore, + And you come back to the moor that spreads beyand + your father's door, + There'll be many an ancient comrade to greet you on + the shore-- + At your comin' back, my darlin' ! + + Ah, the hillock cannot cover, and the grass it cannot hide + The love that never changeth, whatever wind or tide; + And though you'll not be seein', we'll be standin' by + your side-- + You'll be comin' back, my darlin'! + + O, there's no home like the old home, there's no pillow + like the breast + You slumbered on in childhood, like a young bird in + the nest: + We are livin' still and waitin', and we're hopin' for the + best-- + Ah, you're comin' back, my darlin'--comin' back! + + + + + + + FARCALLADEN RISE + + Oh, it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise, + With the knees pressing hard to the saddle, my men; + With the sparks from the hoofs giving light to the eyes, + And our hearts beating hard as we rode to the glen! + + And it's back with the ring of the chain and the spur, + And it's back with the sun on the hill and the moor, + And it's back is the thought sets my pulses astir,-- + But I'll never go back to Farcalladen more! + + Oh, it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise, + And it's swift as an arrow and straight as a spear, + And it's keen as the frost when the summer-time dies, + That we rode to the glen, and with never a fear. + + And it's hey for the hedge, and it's hey for the wall, + And it's over the stream with an echoing cry; + And there's three fled for ever from old Donegal, + And there's two that have shown how bold Irishmen die! + + For it's rest when the gallop is over, my men, + And it's here's to the lads that have ridden their last; + And it's here's to the lasses we leave in the glen, + With a smile for the future, a sigh for the past! + + + + + + + GIVE ME THE LIGHT HEART + + Give, me the light heart, Heaven above! + Give me the hand of a friend, + Give me one high fine spirit to love, + I'll abide my fate to the end: + I will help where I can, I will cherish my own, + Nor walk the steep way of the world alone. + + + + + + + WHERE SHALL WE BETAKE US? + + "Where shall we betake us when the day's work is over? + (Ah, red is the rose-bush in the lane.) + Happy is the maid that knows the footstep of her lover-- + (Sing the song, the Eden song, again.) + Who shall listen to us when black sorrow comes a-reaping? + (See the young lark falling from the sky.) + Happy is the man that has a true heart in his keeping-- + True hearts flourish when the roses die." + + + + + + + NO MAN'S LAND + + Oh, we have been a-maying, dear, beyond the city gates, + The little city set upon a hill; + And we have seen the jocund smile upon the lips of Fate, + And we have known the splendours of our will. + + Oh, we have wandered far, my dear, and we have loved apace; + A little hut we built upon the sand, + The sun without to lighten it, within, your golden face,-- + O happy dream, O happy No Man's Land! + + The pleasant furniture of spring was set in all the fields, + And gay and wholesome were the herbs and flowers; + Our simple cloth of love was spread with all that nature yields, + And frugal only were the passing hours. + + Oh, we have been a-maying, dear, we've left the world behind, + We've sung and danced and gossiped as we strayed; + And when within our little but your fingers draw the blind, + We'll loiter by the fire that love has made. + + + + + + + AT SEA + + Through the round window above, the deep palpable blue, + The wan bright moon, and the sweet stinging breath of the sea; + And below, in the shadows, thine eyes like stars, + And Love brooding low, and the warm white glory of thee. + + Oh, soft was the song in my soul, and soft beyond thought + were thy lips, + And thou wert mine own, and Eden reconquered was mine + And the way that I go is the way of thy feet, and the breath + that I breathe, + It hath being from thee and life from the life that is thine! + + + + + + + ATHENIAN + + Your voice I knew, its cadences and thrill; + It stilled the tumult and the overthrow + When Athens trembled to the people's will; + I knew it--'twas a thousand years ago. + + I see the fountains, and the gardens where + You sang the fury from the Satrap's brow; + I feel the quiver in the raptured air, + I heard it in the Athenian grove--I hear you now. + + + + + + + EYES LIKE THE SEA + + Eyes like the sea, look up, the beacons brighten, + Home comes the sailor, home across the tide! + Back drifts the cloud, behold the heavens whiten, + The port of Love is open, he anchors at thy side. + + + + + + + UNDER THE CLIFF + The sands and the sea, and the white gulls fleeting, + The mist on the island, the cloud on the hill; + The song in my heart, and the old hope beating + Its life 'gainst the bars of thy will. + + + + + + + OPEN THY GATE + + Here in the highway without thy garden wall, + Here in the babel and the glare, + Sick for thy haven, O Sweet, to thee I call: + Open thy gate unto my prayer-- + Open thy gate. + + Cool is thy garden-plot, pleasant thy shade, + All things commend thee in thy place; + Dwelling on thy perfectness, O Sweet, I am afraid, + But, fearing, long to look upon thy face-- + Open thy gate. + + Over the ample globe, searching for thee, + Thee and thy garden have I come; + Ended my questing: no more, no more for me, + O Sweet, the pilgrim's sandals, call me home-- + Open thy gate. + + + + + + + SUMMER IS COME + + Summer is come; the corn is in the ear, + The haze is swimming where the beeches stand; + Summer is come, though winter months be here-- + My love is summer passing through the land. + + Summer is come; I hear the skylarks sing, + The honeysuckle flaunts it to the bees; + Summer is come, and 'tis not yet the spring-- + My love is summer blessing all she sees. + + Summer is come; I see an open door, + A sweet hand beckons, and I know + That, winter or summer, I shall go forth no more-- + My heart is homing where her summer-roses grow. + + + + + + + O FLOWER OF ALL THE WORLD + + O flower of all the world, O flower of all, + The garden where thou dwellest is so fair, + Thou art so goodly, and so queenly tall, + Thy sweetness scatters sweetness everywhere, + O flower of all! + + O flower of all the years, O flower of all, + A day beside thee is a day of days; + Thy voice is softer than the throstle's call, + There is not song enough to sing thy praise, + O flower of all! + + O flower of all the years, O flower of all, + I seek thee in thy garden, and I dare + To love thee; and though my deserts be small, + Thou art the only flower I would wear, + O flower of all! + + + + + + + WAS IT SOME GOLDEN STAR? + + Once in another land, + Ages ago, + You were a queen, and I, + I loved you so: + Where was it that we loved-- + Ah, do you know? + + Was it some golden star + Hot with romance? + Was it in Malabar, + Italy, France? + Did we know Charlemagne, + Dido, perchance? + + But you were a queen, and I + Fought for you then: + How did you honour me-- + More than all men! + Kissed me upon the lips; + Kiss me again. + + Have you forgotten it, + All that we said? + I still remember though + Ages have fled. + Whisper the word of life,-- + "Love is not dead." + + + + + + + I HEARD THE DESERT CALLING + + I heard the desert calling, and my heart stood still-- + There was winter in my world and in my heart; + A breath came from the mesa, and a message stirred my will, + And my soul and I arose up to depart. + + I heard the desert calling, and I knew that over there + In an olive-sheltered garden where the mesquite grows, + Was a woman of the sunrise with the star-shine in her hair + And a beauty that the almond-blossom blows. + + In the night-time when the ghost-trees glimmered in the moon, + Where the mesa by the water-course was spanned, + Her loveliness enwrapped me like the blessedness of June, + And all my life was thrilling in her hand. + + I hear the desert calling, and my heart stands still-- + There is summer in my world, and in my heart; + A breath comes from the mesa, and a will beyond my will + Binds my footsteps as I rise up to depart. + + + + + + + THE FORGOTTEN WORD + + Once in the twilight of the Austrian hills, + A word came to me, wonderful and good; + If I had spoken it--that message of the stars-- + Love would have filled thy blood; + Love would have sent thee pulsing to my arms, + Laughing with joy, thy heart a nestling bird + An instant passed--it fled; and now I seek in vain + For that forgotten word. + + + + + + + WHAT WILL IT MATTER? + + What will this matter, dear, when you and I + Have left our sad world for some fairer sky? + What will it matter, dear, when, far apart, + We miss the touch of hand and beat of heart; + When one's at peace, while unto one is given + With lonely feet to walk the hills at even? + What will it matter that one fault more now + Brings clouds upon one eager mortal brow, + That one grace less is given to one poor soul, + When both drink from the last immortal bowl? + For fault and grace, dear love, when we go hence + Will find the same Eternal recompense. + + + + + + + THE COURIER STAR + + Into a New World wandered I, + A strong vast realm afar; + And down the white peaks of its sky, + Beckoned my courier star. + + It hailed me to mine ancient North,-- + The meadows of the Pole; + It whistled my gay hunters forth, + It bugled in my soul. + On plateaux of the constant snow + I heard the meteors whir; + I saw the red wolves nor'ward go + From my low huts of fir. + + The dun moose ran the deep ravine, + The musk-ox ranged the plain; + The hunter's song dripped in between + In notes of scarlet rain. + + The land was mine: its lonely pride, + Its distant deep desires; + And I abode, as hunters bide, + With joy beside its fires. + + Into a New World wandered I, + A world austere, sublime; + And unseen feet came sauntering by; + A voice with ardent chime + Rang down the idle lanes of sleep; + I waked: the night was still; + I saw my star its sentry keep + Along a southern hill. + + O flaming star! my courier star! + My herald, fine and tall! + You gestured from your opal car, + I answered to that call. + I rose; the flumes of snow I trod, + I trailed to southward then; + I left behind the camps of God, + And sought the tents of men. + + And where a princely face looked through + The curtains of the play + Of life, O star, you paused; I knew + The comrade of my day. + And good the trails that I have trod, + My courier star before; + And good the nor'land camps of God: + And though I lodge no more + + Where stalwart deeds and dreams rejoice, + And gallant hunters roam, + Where I can hear your voice, your voice, + I drive the tent-peg home. + + + + + + + THE WORLD IN MAKING + + When God was making the world, + (Swift was the wind and white was the fire) + The feet of His people danced the stars; + There was laughter and swinging bells, + And clanging iron and breaking breath, + The hammers of heaven making the hills, + The vales, on the anvils of God. + (Wild is the fire and low is the wind) + + When God had finished the world, + (Bright was the fire and sweet was the wind) + Up from the valleys came song, + To answer the morning stars; + And the hand of man on the anvil rang, + His breath was big in his breast, his life + Beat strong 'gainst the walls of the world. + (Glad is the wind and tall is the fire) + + + + + + + HEW + + None shall stand in the way of the lord, + The Lord of the Earth--of the rivers and trees, + Of the cattle and fields and vines: + Hew! + Here shall I build me my cedar home, + A city with gates, a road to the sea-- + For I am the lord of the Earth: + Hew! Hew! + Hew and hew, and the sap of the tree + Shall be yours, and your bones shall be strong, + Shall be yours, and your heart shall rejoice, + Shall be yours, and the city be yours, + And the key of its gates be the key + Of the home where your little ones dwell. + Hew and be strong! Hew and rejoice! + For man is the lord of the Earth, + And God is the Lord over all. + + + + + + + O SON OF MAN + + "Son of man, stand upon thy feet + and I will speak to thee." + + O son of man, behold + If thou shouldst stumble on the nameless trail, + The trail that no man rides, + Lift up thy heart, + Behold, O son of man, thou hast a helper near! + + O son of man, take heed + If thou shouldst fall upon the vacant plain, + The plain that no man loves, + Reach out thy hand, + Take heed, O son of man, strength shall be given thee! + + O son of man, rejoice: + If thou art blinded even at the door, + The door of the Safe Tent, + Sing in thy heart, + Rejoice, O son of man, thy pilot leads thee home! + + + + + + + AT THE END OF THE WORLD + + In the lodge of the Mother of Men, + In the land of Desire, + Are the embers of fire, + Are the ashes of those who return. + Who return to the world; + Who flame at the breath + Of the Mockers of Death. + O Sweet, we will voyage again + To the camp of Love's fire, + Nevermore to return! + + O love, by the light of thine eyes + We will fare over-sea; + We will be + As the silver-winged herons that rest + By the shallows, + The shallows of sapphire stone; + No more shall we wander alone. + As the foam to the shore + Is my spirit to thine, + And God's serfs as they fly,-- + The Mockers of Death- + They will breathe on the embers of fire + We shall live by that breath. + Sweet, thy heart to my heart, + As we journey afar, + No more, nevermore, to return! + + + + + + + WAYFARERS + + War does the fire no longer burn? + (I am so lonely) + Why does the tent-door swing outward? + (I have no home) + Oh, let me breathe hard in your face! + (I am so lonely) + Oh, why do you shut your eyes to me? + (I have no home) + + Let us make friends with the stars; + (I am so lonely) + Give me your hand, I will hold it; + (I have no home) + Let us go hunting together: + (I am so lonely) + We will sleep at God's camp to-night. + (I have no home) + + + + + + + THE RED PATROL + + He stands in the porch of the World-- + (Why should the door be shut?) + The grey wolf waits at his heel, + (Why is the window barred?) + Wild is the trail from the Kimash Hills, + The blight has fallen on bush and tree, + The choking earth has swallowed the streams, + Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol- + (Why should the door be shut?) + The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide-- + (Why is the window barred?) + + He waits at the threshold stone-- + (Why should the key-hole rust?) + The eagle broods at his side, + (Why should the blind be drawn?) + Long has he watched and far has he called-- + The lonely sentinel of the North-- + "Who goes there?" to the wandering soul + Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol-- + (Why should the key-hole rust?) + The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home, + (Why should the blind be drawn?) + + Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol-- + (Why should the key-hole rust?) + The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home, + (Why should the blind be drawn?) + Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol-- + (Why should the door be shut?) + The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide, + (Why is the window barred?) + + + + + + + THE YELLOW SWAN + + In the flash of the singing dawn, + At the door of the Great One, + The joy of his lodge knelt down, + Knelt down, and her hair in the sun + Shone like showering dust, + And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn. + And she cried to her lord, + "O my lord, O my life, + From the desert I come; + From the hills of the Dawn." + And he lifted the curtain and said, + "Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?" + + And she lifted her head, and her eyes + Were as lights in the dark, + And her hands folded slow on her breast, + And her face was as one who has seen + The gods and the place where they dwell; + And she said, "Is it meet that I kneel, + That I kneel as I speak to my lord?" + And he answered her, "Nay, but to stand, + And to sit by my side; + But speak: thou has followed the trail, + Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?" + And she stood as a queen, and her voice + Was as one who hath seen the Hills, + The Hills of the Mighty Men, + And hath heard them cry in the night, + Hath heard them call in the dawn, + Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan. + And she said, "It is not for my lord"; + And she murmured, "I cannot tell; + But my lord must go as I went, + And my lord must come as I came, + And my lord shall be wise." + + And he cried in his wrath, + "What is thine, it is mine, + And thine eyes are my eyes, + Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan." + But she answered him, "Nay, though I die. + I have lain in the nest of the Swan, + I have heard, I have known; + When thine eyes too have seen, + When thine ears too have heard, + Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt." + + And he lifted his hand to strike, + And he straightened his spear to slay; + But a great light struck on his eyes, + And he heard the rushing of wings, + And his long spear fell from his hand, + And a terrible stillness came: + And when the spell passed from his eyes + He stood in his doorway alone, + And gone was the queen of his soul + And gone was the Yellow Swan. + + + + + + + THE HEART OF THE PIONEER + + My dear love, she waits for me, + None other my world is adorning; + My true love I come to thee, + My dear, the white star of the morning. + Eagles, spread out your wings,-- + Behold where the red dawn is breaking! + Hark, 'tis my darling sings, + The flowers, the song-birds, awaking-- + See, where she comes to me, + My love, ah, my dear love! + + + + + + + THE NORTH TRAIL + + "Oh, where did you get them, the bonny, bonny roses + That blossom in your cheeks, and the morning in your eyes?" + "I got them on the North Trail, the road that never closes, + That widens to the seven gold gates of Paradise." + "O come, let us camp in the North Trail together, + With the night-fires lit and the tent-pegs down." + + + + + + + ALONE + + O, O, the winter wind, the North wind-- + My snow-bird, where art thou gone? + O, O the wailing wind, the night wind-- + The cold nest; I am alone. + O, O my snow-bird! + + O, O, the waving sky, the white sky-- + My snow-bird, thou fliest far; + O, O the eagle's cry, the wild cry-- + My lost love, my lonely star. + O, O my snow-bird! + + + + + + + THE SCARLET HILLS + + Brothers, we go to the Scarlet Hills-- + (Little gold sun, come out of the dawn.) + There we will meet in the cedar groves-- + (Shining white dew, come down.) + There is a bed where you sleep so sound, + The little good folk of the Hills will guard, + Till the morning wakes and your love comes home-- + (Fly away, heart, to the Scarlet Hills.) + + + + + + + THE WOODSMAN LOVER + + High in a nest of the tam'rac tree, + Swing under, so free, and swing over; + Swing under the sun and swing over the world, + My snow-bird, my gay little lover- + My gay little lover, don, don! . . . don, don! + + When the winter is done I will come back home, + To the nest swinging under and over, + Swinging under and over and waiting for me, + Your rover, my snow-bird, your lover-- + My lover and rover, don, don! . . . don, don! + + + + + + + QUI VIVE + + Qui vive! + Who is it cries in the dawn, + Cries when the stars go down? + Who is it comes through the mist, + The mist that is fine like lawn, + The mist like an angel's gown? + Who is it comes in the dawn? + Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn. + + Qui vive! + Who is it passeth us by, + Still in the dawn and the mist-- + Tall seigneur of the dawn, + A two-edged sword at his thigh, + A shield of gold at his wrist? + Who is it hurrieth by? + Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn. + + Qui vive! + Who saileth into the morn, + Out of the wind of the dawn? + "Follow, oh, follow me on!" + Calleth a distant horn. + He is here--he is there--he is gone, + Tall seigneur of the dawn! + Qui vive! Qui vive! in the dawn. + + + + + + + THE LITTLE HOUSE + + I + + Children, the house is empty, + The house behind the tall hill; + Lonely and still is the empty house. + There is no face in the doorway, + There is no fire in the chimney-- + Come and gather beside the gate, + Little Good Folk of the Scarlet Hills. + + Where has the wild dog vanished? + Where has the swift foot gone? + Where is the hand that found the good fruit, + That made a garret of wholesome herbs? + Where is the voice that awoke the morn, + The tongue that defied the terrible beasts? + Come and listen beside the door, + Little Good Folk of the Scarlet Hills. + + + II + + Sorrowful is the little house, + The little house by the winding stream; + All the laughter has died away + Out of the little house. + But down there come from the lofty hills + Footsteps and eyes agleam, + Bringing the laughter of yesterday + Into the little house, + By the winding stream and the hills. + Di ron, di ron, di ron-don! + + + III + + What is there like to the cry of the bird + That sings in its nest in the lilac tree? + A voice the sweetest you ever have heard; + It is there, it is here, ci, ci! + It is there, it is here, it must roam and roam, + And wander from shore to shore, + Till I travel the hills and bring it home, + And enter and close my door-- + Row along, row along home, ci, ci! + + What is there like to the laughing star, + Far up from the lilac tree? + A face that's brighter and finer far; + It laughs and it shines, ci, ci! + It laughs and it shines, it must roam and roam, + And travel from shore to shore, + Till I get me forth and bring it home, + And house it within my door-- + Row along, row along home, ci, ci! + + + + + + + SPINNING + + Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! + The moon wheels full, and the tide flows high, + And your wedding-gown you must put it on + Ere the night hath no moon in the sky + Gigoton, Mergaton, spin! + + Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! + Your gown shall be stitched ere the old moon fade: + The age of a moon shall your hands spin on, + Or a wife in her shroud shall be laid-- + Gigoton, Mergaton, spin! + + Spin, spin, belle Mergaton! + The Little Good Folk the spell they have cast; + By your work well done while the moon hath shone, + Ye shall cleave unto joy at last-- + Gigoton, Mergaton, spin! + + + + + + + FLY AWAY, MY HEART + "O traveller, see where the red sparks rise," + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + But dark is the mist in the traveller's eyes. + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + "O traveller, see far down the gorge, + The crimson light from my father's forge-" + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + + "O traveller, hear how the anvils ring"; + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + But the traveller heard, ah, never a thing: + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + "O traveller, loud do the bellows roar, + And my father waits by the smithy door-" + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + + "O traveller, see you thy true love's grace," + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + And now there is joy in the traveller's face: + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + Oh, wild does he ride through the rain and mire, + To greet his love by the smithy fire-- + (Fly away, my heart, fly away) + + + + + + + SUZON + + O mealman white, give me your daughter, + Oh, give her to me, your sweet Suzon! + O mealman dear, you can do no better, + For I have a chateau at Malmaison. + + Black charcoalman, you shall not have her + She shall not marry you, my Suzon-- + A bag of meal, and a sack of carbon! + Non, non, non, non, non, non, non, non + + Go look at your face, my fanfaron, + For my daughter and you would be night and day. + Non, non, non, non, non, non, non, non, + Not for your chateau at Malmaison; + Non, non, non, non, non, non, non, non, + You shall not marry her, my Suzon. + + + + + + + MY LITTLE TENDER HEART + + My little tender heart, + O gai, vive le roi! + My little tender heart, + O gai, vive le roi! + 'Tis for a grand baron, + Vive le roi, la reine! + 'Tis for a grand baron, + Vive Napoleon! + + My mother promised it, + O gai, vive le roi! + My mother promised it, + O gai, vive le roi! + To a gentleman of the king, + Vive le roi, la reine! + To a gentleman of the king, + Vive Napoleon! + + Oh, say, where goes your love? + O gai, vive le roi! + Oh, say, where goes your love? + O gai, vive le roi! + He rides on a white horse, + Vive le roi, la reine! + He wears a silver sword, + Vive Napoleon! + + Oh, grand to the war he goes, + O gai, vive le roi! + Oh, grand to the war he goes, + O gai, vive le roi! + Gold and silver he will bring, + Vive le roi, la reine! + And eke the daughter of a king-- + Vive Napoleon! + + + + + + + THE MEN OF THE NORTH + + They have wrestled their thews with the Arctic bear, + With tireless moose they've trod; + They have drained heel-deep of a fighting air, + And breasted the winds of God. + They have stretched their beds in the hummocked snow, + They have set their teeth to the Pole; + With Death they have gamed it, throw for throw, + And drunk with him bowl for bowl-- + They are all for thee, O England! + + In their birch canoes they have run cloud-high, + On the crest of a nor'land storm; + They have soaked the sea, and have braved the sky, + And laughed at the Conqueror Worm. + They reck not beast and they fear no man, + They have trailed where the panther glides; + On the edge of a mountain barbican, + They have tracked where the reindeer hides-- + And these are for thee, O England! + + They have freed your flag where the white Pole-Star + Hangs out its auroral flame; + Where the bones of your Franklin's heroes are + They have honoured your ancient name. + And, iron in blood and giant in girth, + They have stood for your title-deed + Of the infinite North, and your lordly worth, + And your pride and your ancient greed-- + And for love of thee, O England! + + + + + + + THE CROWNING + + A thousand years of power, + A thousand marches done, + Lands beyond lands our dower, + Flag with no setting sun-- + Now to the new King's sealing, + Come from the farthest seas, + Sons of the croft and sheiling, + Sons of the moor and leas-- + + Those that went from us, daring + The wastes and the wilds and the wood: + Hither they come to us, sharing + Our glory, the call of the blood; + Hither they come to the sealing-- + They or the seed of them come, + Bring the new King the revealing + Of continents yesterday dumb. + + Out on the veldt, in the pineland, + Camped by the spring or the hill, + Pressing the grapes of the vineland, + Grinding the wheat at the mill, + Oracles whispered the message + Meant for the ear of the King-- + Joyous and splendid the presage, + Lofty the vision they bring! + + Each for his new land--he made it; + Each for the Old Land which gave + Treasure, that none should invade it, + Blood its high altars to lave; + Each for the brotherhood nations, + All of the nations for each: + Here giving thanks and oblations, + One in our blood and our speech, + + Pledging our love and alliance, + Faith upon faith for the King, + Making no oath in defiance, + Crying, "No challenge we fling," + Yet for the peace of all people, + Yet for the good of our own, + Here, with our prayers and oblations, + Pledge we our lives to the throne! + + + + + + + CLOSE UP + + You heard the bugles calling, comrades, brothers,-- + "Close up! Close up!" You mounted to go forth, + You answered "We are coming," and you gathered, + And paraded with your Captains in the North. + + From here you came, from there you came, your voices + All flashing with your joy as flash the stars, + You waited, watched, until, the last one riding + Out of the night, came roll-call after wars. + + Unsling your swords, off with your knapsacks, brothers! + We'll mess here at headquarters once again; + Drink and forget the scars; drink and remember + The joy of fighting and the pride of pain. + + We will forget: the great game rustles by us, + The furtive world may whistle at the door, + We'll not go forth; we'll furlough here together-- + Close up! Close up! 'Tis comrades evermore! + + And Captains, our dear Captains, standing steady, + Aged with battle, but ever young with love, + Tramping the zones round, high have we hung your virtues, + Like shields along the wall of life, like armaments above: + + Like shields your love, our Captains, like armaments your + virtues, + No rebel lives among us, we are yours; + The old command still holds us, the old flag is our one flag, + We answer to a watchword that endures! + + Close up, close up, my brothers! Lift your glasses, + Drink to our Captains, pledging ere we roam, + Far from the good land, the dear familiar faces, + The love of the old regiment at home! + + + + + + + W. E. H. + + "Henley is dead!" Ah, but the sound and the sight of him, + Buoyant, commanding, and strong, suffering, noble in mind! + Gone, and no more shall we have any discourse or delight of him, + Wearing his pain like a song, casting his troubles behind. + + Gallant and fair! Feeling the soul and the ruth of things, + Probing the wounds of the world, healing he brought and surcease-- + Laughter he gave, beauty to teach us the truth of things, + Music to march to the fight, ballads for hours of peace. + + Now it is done! Fearless the soul of him strove for us, + Viking in blood and in soul, baring his face to the rain, + Facing the storm he fared on, singing for England and love of us, + On to the last corral where now he lies beaten and slain. + + Beaten and slain! Yes, but England hath heed of him, + Singer of high degree, master of thought and of word-- + She shall bear witness with tears, of the pride and the + loss and the need of him; + We shall measure the years by the voice and the song unheard. + + + + + + + WHEN BLOWS THE WIND + + When blows the wind and drives the sleet, + And all the trees droop down; + When all the world is sad, 'tis meet + Good company be known: + And, in my heart, good company + Sits by the fire and sings to me. + + When warriors return, and one + That went returns no more; + When dusty is the road we run, + And garners have no store; + One ingle-nook right warm shall be + Where my heart hath good company. + + When man shall flee and woman fail, + And folly mock and hope deceive, + Let cowards beat the breast and wail, + I'll homeward hie; I will not grieve: + I'll curtains draw, I'll there set free + My heart's beloved boon company. + + When kings shall favour, ladies call + My service to their side; + When roses grow upon the wall + Of life, and love inside; + I'll get me home with joy to be + In my heart's own good company! + + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMBERS BY PARKER, V1 *** + +***** This file should be named 6268.txt or 6268.zip **** + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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