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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..3ddf595 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68458 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68458) diff --git a/old/68458-0.txt b/old/68458-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ef27e83..0000000 --- a/old/68458-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1890 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Motley and other poems, by Walter de -la Mare - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Motley and other poems - -Author: Walter de la Mare - -Release Date: July 4, 2022 [eBook #68458] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTLEY AND OTHER POEMS *** - - - - - - - -MOTLEY - -AND OTHER POEMS - - -BY - -WALTER DE LA MARE - - - -LONDON - -CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LTD - -1918 - - - - -_Printed in Great Britain_ - - - - -NOTE - -The author wishes to thank the Editors of the _English Review_, the -_Times_, the _New Statesman_, _Form_, the _Gipsy_, the _Yale Review_, -and the _Westminster Gazette_ for permission to reprint poems -included in this volume. - -A selection from among the poems included in this volume has been -published in a limited edition in a volume issued by the Beaumont -Press. - - - - -_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ - -THE LISTENERS and Other Poems. - -PEACOCK PIE. A Book of Rhymes. - Also an Illustrated Edition, with Black and - White Drawings by W. HEATH ROBINSON. - -POEMS. - -A CHILD'S DAY. A Book of Rhymes. - Illustrated. - -HENRY BROCKEN. A Novel. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - THE LITTLE SALAMANDER - THE LINNET - THE SUNKEN GARDEN - THE RIDDLERS - MOONLIGHT - THE BLIND BOY - THE QUARRY - MRS. GRUNDY - THE TRYST - ALONE - EMPTY - MISTRESS FELL - THE GHOST - THE STRANGER - BETRAYAL - THE CAGE - THE REVENANT - MUSIC - THE REMONSTRANCE - NOCTURNE - THE EXILE - THE UNCHANGING - NIGHTFALL - INVOCATION - EYES - LIFE - THE DISGUISE - VAIN QUESTIONING - VIGIL - THE OLD MEN - THE DREAMER - HAPPY ENGLAND - MOTLEY - THE MARIONETTES - TO E. T.: 1917 - APRIL MOON - THE FOOL'S SONG - CLEAR EYES - DUST TO DUST - THE THREE STRANGERS - ALEXANDER - THE REAWAKENING - THE VACANT DAY - THE FLIGHT - THE TWO HOUSES - FOR ALL THE GRIEF - THE SCRIBE - FARE WELL - - - - - THE LITTLE SALAMANDER - - TO MARGOT - - When I go free, - I think 'twill be - A night of stars and snow, - And the wild fires of frost shall light - My footsteps as I go; - Nobody--nobody will be there - With groping touch, or sight, - To see me in my bush of hair - Dance burning through the night. - - - - - THE LINNET - - Upon this leafy bush - With thorns and roses in it, - Flutters a thing of light, - A twittering linnet. - And all the throbbing world - Of dew and sun and air - By this small parcel of life - Is made more fair; - As if each bramble-spray - And mounded gold-wreathed furze, - Harebell and little thyme, - Were only hers; - As if this beauty and grace - Did to one bird belong, - And, at a flutter of wing, - Might vanish in song. - - - - - THE SUNKEN GARDEN - - Speak not--whisper not; - Here bloweth thyme and bergamot; - Softly on the evening hour, - Secret herbs their spices shower, - Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh, - Lean-stalked, purple lavender; - Hides within her bosom, too, - All her sorrows, bitter rue. - - Breathe not--trespass not; - Of this green and darkling spot, - Latticed from the moon's beams, - Perchance a distant dreamer dreams; - Perchance upon its darkening air, - The unseen ghosts of children fare, - Faintly swinging, sway and sweep, - Like lovely sea-flowers in its deep; - While, unmoved, to watch and ward, - 'Mid its gloomed and daisied sward, - Stands with bowed and dewy head - That one little leaden Lad. - - - - - THE RIDDLERS - - 'Thou solitary!' the Blackbird cried, - 'I, from the happy Wren, - Linnet and Blackcap, Woodlark, Thrush, - Perched all upon a sweetbrier bush, - Have come at cold of midnight-tide - To ask thee, Why and when - Grief smote thy heart so thou dost sing - In solemn hush of evening, - So sorrowfully, lovelorn Thing-- - Nay, nay, not sing, but rave, but wail, - Most melancholic Nightingale? - Do not the dews of darkness steep - All pinings of the day in sleep? - Why, then, when rocked in starry nest - We mutely couch, secure, at rest, - Doth thy lone heart delight to make - Music for sorrow's sake?' - - A Moon was there. So still her beam, - It seemed the whole world lay a-dream, - Lulled by the watery sea. - And from her leafy night-hung nook - Upon this stranger soft did look - The Nightingale: sighed he:-- - - ''Tis strange, my friend; the Kingfisher - But yestermorn conjured me here - Out of his green and gold to say - Why thou, in splendour of the noon, - Wearest of colour but golden shoon, - And else dost thee array - In a most sombre suit of black? - "Surely," he sighed, "some load of grief, - Past all our thinking--and belief-- - Must weigh upon his back!" - Do, then, in turn, tell me, If joy - Thy heart as well as voice employ, - Why dost thou now, most Sable, shine - In plumage woefuller far than mine? - Thy silence is a sadder thing - Than any dirge I sing!' - - Thus then these two small birds, perched there, - Breathed a strange riddle both did share - Yet neither could expound. - And we--who sing but as we can, - In the small knowledge of a man-- - Have we an answer found? - Nay, some are happy whose delight - Is hid even from themselves from sight; - And some win peace who spend - The skill of words to sweeten despair - Of finding consolation where - Life has but one dark end; - Who, in rapt solitude, tell o'er - A tale, as lovely as forlore, - Into the midnight air. - - - - - MOONLIGHT - - The far moon maketh lovers wise - In her pale beauty trembling down, - Lending curved cheeks, dark lips, dark eyes, - A strangeness not their own. - And, though they shut their lids to kiss, - In starless darkness peace to win, - Even on that secret world from this - Her twilight enters in. - - - - - THE BLIND BOY - - 'I have no master,' said the Blind Boy, - My mother, "Dame Venus," they do call; - Cowled in this hood, she sent me begging - For whate'er in pity may befall. - - 'Hard was her visage, me adjuring,-- - "Have no fond mercy on the kind! - Here be sharp arrows, bunched in quiver, - Draw close ere striking--thou art blind." - - 'So stand I here, my woes entreating, - In this dark alley, lest the Moon - Point with her sparkling my barbed armoury, - Shine on my silver-laced shoon. - - 'Oh, sir, unkind this Dame to me-ward; - Of the salt billow was her birth.... - In your sweet charity draw nearer - The saddest rogue on Earth!' - - - - - THE QUARRY - - You hunted me with all the pack, - Too blind, too blind, to see - By no wild hope of force or greed - Could you make sure of me. - - And like a phantom through the glades, - With tender breast aglow, - The goddess in me laughed to hear - Your horns a-roving go. - - She laughed to think no mortal e'er - By dint of mortal flesh - The very Cause that was the Hunt - One moment could enmesh: - - That though with captive limbs I lay, - Stilled breath and vanquished eyes, - He that hunts Love with horse and hound - Hunts out his heart and eyes. - - - - - MRS. GRUNDY - - 'Step very softly, sweet Quiet-foot, - Stumble not, whisper not, smile not: - By this dark ivy stoop cheek and brow. - Still even thy heart! What seest thou?' - - 'High-coifed, broad-browed, aged, suave yet grim, - A large flat face, eyes keenly dim, - Staring at nothing--that's me!--and yet, - With a hate one could never, no, never forget...' - - 'This is my world, my garden, my home, - Hither my father bade mother to come - And bear me out of the dark into light, - And happy I was in her tender sight. - - 'And then, thou frail flower, she died and went, - Forgetting my pitiless banishment, - And that Old Woman--an Aunt--she said, - Came hither, lodged, fattened, and made her bed. - - 'Oh yes, thou most blessed, from Monday to Sunday - Has lived on me, preyed on me, Mrs. Grundy: - Called me, "dear Nephew"; on each of those chairs - Has gloated in righteousness, heard my prayers. - - 'Why didst thou dare the thorns of the grove, - Timidest trespasser, huntress of love? - Now thou hast peeped, and now dost know - What kind of creature is thine for foe. - - 'Not that she'll tear out thy innocent eyes, - Poison thy mouth with deviltries. - Watch thou, wait thou: soon will begin - The guile of a voice: hark!...' 'Come in, Come in!' - - - - - THE TRYST - - Flee into some forgotten night and be - Of all dark long my moon-bright company: - Beyond the rumour even of Paradise come, - There, out of all remembrance, make our home: - Seek we some close hid shadow for our lair, - Hollowed by Noah's mouse beneath the chair - Wherein the Omnipotent, in slumber bound, - Nods till the piteous Trump of Judgment sound. - Perchance Leviathan of the deep sea - Would lease a lost mermaiden's grot to me, - There of your beauty we would joyance make-- - A music wistful for the sea-nymph's sake: - Haply Elijah, o'er his spokes of fibre, - Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre, - Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space, - Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace, - Where two might happy be--just you and I-- - Lost in the uttermost of Eternity. - - Think! in Time's smallest clock's minutest beat - Might there not rest be found for wandering feet? - Or, 'twixt the sleep and wake of a Helen's dream, - Silence wherein to sing love's requiem? - - No, no. Nor earth, nor air, nor fire, nor deep - Could lull poor mortal longingness asleep. - Somewhere there Nothing is; and there lost Man - Shall win what changeless vague of peace he can. - - - - - ALONE - - The abode of the nightingale is bare, - Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air, - The fox howls from his frozen lair: - Alas, my loved one is gone, - I am alone: - It is winter. - - Once the pink cast a winy smell, - The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell, - Light in effulgence of beauty fell: - Alas, my loved one is gone, - I am alone: - It is winter. - - My candle a silent fire doth shed, - Starry Orion hunts o'erhead; - Come moth, come shadow, the world is dead: - Alas, my loved one is gone, - I am alone; - It is winter. - - - - - THE EMPTY HOUSE - - See this house, how dark it is - Beneath its vast-boughed trees! - Not one trembling leaflet cries - To that Watcher in the skies-- - 'Remove, remove thy searching gaze, - Innocent, of heaven's ways, - Brood not, Moon, so wildly bright, - On secrets hidden from sight.' - - 'Secrets,' sighs the night-wind, - 'Vacancy is all I find; - Every keyhole I have made - Wail a summons, faint and sad, - No voice ever answers me, - Only vacancy.' - 'Once, once...' the cricket shrills, - And far and near the quiet fills - With its tiny voice, and then - Hush falls again. - - Mute shadows creeping slow - Mark how the hours go. - Every stone is mouldering slow. - And the least winds that blow - Some minutest atom shake, - Some fretting ruin make - In roof and walls. How black it is - Beneath these thick-boughed trees! - - - - - MISTRESS FELL - - 'Whom seek you here, sweet Mistress Fell?' - 'One who loved me passing well. - Dark his eye, wild his face-- - Stranger, if in this lonely place - Bide such an one, then, prythee, say - _I_ am come here to-day.' - - 'Many his like, Mistress Fell?' - 'I did not look, so cannot tell. - Only this I surely know, - When his voice called me, I must go; - Touched me his fingers, and my heart - Leapt at the sweet pain's smart.' - - 'Why did he leave you, Mistress Fell?' - 'Magic laid its dreary spell.-- - Stranger, he was fast asleep; - Into his dream I tried to creep; - Called his name, soft was my cry: - He answered--not one sigh. - - 'The flower and the thorn are here; - Falleth the night-dew, cold and clear; - Out of her bower the bird replies, - Mocking the dark with ecstasies, - See how the earth's green grass doth grow, - Praising what sleeps below! - - 'Thus have they told me. And I come, - As flies the wounded wild-bird home. - Not tears I give; but all that he - Clasped in his arms, sweet charity; - All that he loved--to him I bring - For a close whispering.' - - - - - THE GHOST - - 'Who knocks?' 'I, who was beautiful, - Beyond all dreams to restore, - I, from the roots of the dark thorn am hither, - And knock on the door.' - - 'Who speaks?' 'I--once was my speech - Sweet as the bird's on the air. - When echo lurks by the waters to heed; - 'Tis I speak thee fair.' - - 'Dark is the hour!' 'Ay, and cold.' - 'Lone is my house.' 'Ah, but mine?' - 'Sight, touch, lips, eyes yearned in vain.' - 'Long dead these to thine... - - Silence. Still faint on the porch - Brake the flames of the stars. - In gloom groped a hope-wearied hand - Over keys, bolts, and bars. - - A face peered. All the grey night - In chaos of vacancy shone; - Nought but vast Sorrow was there-- - The sweet cheat gone. - - - - - THE STRANGER - - In the woods as I did walk, - Dappled with the moon's beam, - I did with a Stranger talk, - And his name was Dream. - - Spurred his heel, dark his cloak, - Shady-wide his bonnet's brim; - His horse beneath a silvery oak - Grazed as I talked with him. - - Softly his breast-brooch burned and shone; - Hill and deep were in his eyes; - One of his hands held mine, and one - The fruit that makes men wise. - - Wonderly strange was earth to see, - Flowers white as milk did gleam; - Spread to Heaven the Assyrian Tree, - Over my head with Dream. - - Dews were still betwixt us twain; - Stars a trembling beauty shed; - Yet--not a whisper comes again - Of the words he said. - - - - - BETRAYAL - - She will not die, they say, - She will but put her beauty by - And hie away. - - Oh, but her beauty gone, how lonely - Then will seem all reverie, - How black to me! - - All things will sad be made - And every hope a memory, - All gladness dead. - - Ghosts of the past will know - My weakest hour, and whisper to me, - And coldly go. - - And hers in deep of sleep, - Clothed in its mortal beauty I shall see, - And, waking, weep. - - Naught will my mind then find - In man's false Heaven my peace to be: - All blind, and blind. - - - - - THE CAGE - - Why did you flutter in vain hope, poor bird, - Hard-pressed in your small cage of clay? - 'Twas but a sweet, false echo that you heard, - Caught only a feint of day. - - Still is the night all dark, a homeless dark. - Burn yet the unanswering stars. And silence brings - The same sea's desolate surge--_sans_ bound or mark-- - Of all your wanderings. - - Fret now no more; be still. Those steadfast eyes, - Those folded hands, they cannot set you free; - Only with beauty wake wild memories-- - Sorrow for where you are, for where you would be. - - - - - THE REVENANT - - O all ye fair ladies with your colours and your graces, - And your eyes clear in flame of candle and hearth, - To'rd the dark of this old window lift not up your smiling faces, - Where a Shade stands forlorn from the cold of the earth. - - God knows I could not rest for one I still was thinking of; - Like a rose sheathed in beauty her spirit was to me; - Now out of unforgottenness a bitter draught I'm drinking of, - 'Tis sad of such beauty unremembered to be. - - Men all are shades, O Women.--Winds wist not of the way they blow. - Apart from your kindness, life's at best but a snare. - Though a tongue now past praise this bitter thing doth say, I know - What solitude means, and how, homeless, I fare. - - Strange, strange, are ye all--except in beauty shared with her-- - Since I seek one I loved, yet was faithless to in death. - Not life enough I heaped, so thus my heart must fare with her, - Now wrapt in the gross clay, bereft of life's breath. - - - - - MUSIC - - When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, - And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; - Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees, - Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies. - - When music sounds, out of the water rise - Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes, - Rapt in strange dream burns each enchanted face, - With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place. - - When music sounds, all that I was I am - Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came; - While from Time's woods break into distant song - The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along. - - - - - THE REMONSTRANCE - - I was at peace until you came - And set a careless mind aflame. - I lived in quiet; cold, content; - All longing in safe banishment, - Until your ghostly lips and eyes - Made wisdom unwise. - - Naught was in me to tempt your feet - To seek a lodging. Quite forgot - Lay the sweet solitude we two - In childhood used to wander through; - Time's cold had closed my heart about; - And shut you out. - - Well, and what then? ... O vision grave, - Take all the little all I have! - Strip me of what in voiceless thought - Life's kept of life, unhoped, unsought!-- - Reverie and dream that memory must - Hide deep in dust! - - This only I say,--Though cold and bare - The haunted house you have chosen to share, - Still 'neath its walls the moonbeam goes - And trembles on the untended rose; - Still o'er its broken roof-tree rise - The starry arches of the skies; - And 'neath your lightest word shall be - The thunder of an ebbing sea. - - - - - NOCTURNE - - 'Tis not my voice now speaks; but as a bird - In darkling forest hollows a sweet throat-- - Pleads on till distant echo too hath heard - And doubles every note: - So love that shrouded dwells in mystery - Would cry and waken thee. - - Thou Solitary, stir in thy still sleep; - All the night waits thee, yet thou still dream'st on. - Furtive the shadows that about thee creep, - And cheat the shining footsteps of the moon: - Unseal thine eyes, it is my heart that sings, - And beats in vain its wings. - - Lost in heaven's vague, the stars burn softly thro' - The world's dark latticings, we prisoned stray - Within its lovely labyrinth, and know - Mute seraphs guard the way - Even from silence unto speech, from love - To that self's self it still is dreaming of. - - - - - THE EXILE - - I am that Adam who, with Snake for guest, - Hid anguished eyes upon Eve's piteous breast. - I am that Adam who, with broken wings, - Fled from the Seraph's brazen trumpetings. - Betrayed and fugitive, I still must roam - A world where sin--and beauty--whisper of Home. - - Oh, from wide circuit, shall at length I see - Pure daybreak lighten again on Eden's tree? - Loosed from remorse and hope and love's distress, - Enrobe me again in my lost nakedness? - No more with wordless grief a loved one grieve, - But to heaven's nothingness re-welcome Eve? - - - - - THE UNCHANGING - - After the songless rose of evening, - Night quiet, dark, still, - In nodding cavalcade advancing - Starred the deep hill: - You, in the valley standing, - In your quiet wonder took - All that glamour, peace, and mystery - In one grave look. - Beauty hid your naked body, - Time dreamed in your bright hair, - In your eyes the constellations - Burned far and fair. - - - - - NIGHTFALL - - The last light fails--that shallow pool of day! - The coursers of the dark stamp down to drink, - Arch their wild necks, lift their wild heads and neigh; - Their drivers, gathering at the water-brink, - With eyes ashine from out their clustering hair, - Utter their hollow speech, or gaze afar, - Rapt in irradiant reverie, to where - Languishes, lost in light, the evening star. - - Come the wood-nymphs to dance within the glooms, - Calling these charioteers with timbrels' din; - Ashen with twilight the dark forest looms - O'er the nocturnal beasts that prowl within - Thorn-roofed thicket, where sweet waters gush. - Resounding roar wild torrent, hungry throat; - While in the dew-drowsed branches' ebon hush, - Pouring lament of joy, the night birds float. - 'O glory of beauty which the world makes fair!' - Pant they their serenading on the air. - - Sound the loud hooves, and all abroad the sky - The lusty charioteers their stations take; - Planet to planet do the sweet Loves fly, - And in the zenith silver music wake. - Cities of men, in blindness hidden low, - Fume their faint flames to that arched firmament, - But all the dwellers in the lonely know - The unearthly are abroad, and weary and spent, - With rush extinguished, to their dreaming go. - And world and night and star-enclustered space - The glory of beauty are in one enravished face. - - - - - INVOCATION - - The burning fire shakes in the night, - On high her silver candles gleam, - With far-flung arms enflamed with light, - The trees are lost in dream. - - Come in thy beauty! 'tis my love, - Lost in far-wandering desire, - Hath in the darkling deep above - Set stars and kindled fire. - - - - - EYES - - O strange devices that alone divide - The seër from the seen-- - The very highway of earth's pomp and pride - That lies between - The traveller and the cheating, sweet delight - Of where he longs to be, - But which, bound hand and foot, he, close on night, - Can only see. - - - - - LIFE - - Hearken, O dear, now strikes the hour we die; - We, who in one strange kiss - Have proved a dream the world's realities, - Turned each from other's darkness with a sigh, - Need heed no more of life, waste no more breath - On any other journey, but of death. - - And yet: Oh, know we well - How each of us must prove Love's infidel; - Still out of ecstasy turn trembling back - To earth's same empty track - Of leaden day by day, and hour by hour, and be - Of all things lovely the cold mortuary. - - - - - THE DISGUISE - - Why in my heart, O Grief, - Dost thou in beauty bide? - Dead is my well-content, - And buried deep my pride. - Cold are their stones, beloved, - To hand and side. - - The shadows of even are gone, - Shut are the day's clear flowers, - Now have her birds left mute - Their singing bowers, - Lone shall we be, we twain, - In the night hours. - - Thou with thy cheek on mine, - And dark hair loosed, shalt see - Take the far stars for fruit - The cypress tree, - And in the yew's black - Shall the moon be. - - We will tell no old tales, - Nor heed if in wandering air - Die a lost song of love - Or the once fair; - Still as well-water be - The thoughts we share! - - And, while the ghosts keep - Tryst from chill sepulchres, - Dreamless our gaze shall sleep, - And sealed our ears; - Heart unto heart will speak, - Without tears. - - O, thy veiled, lovely face-- - Joy's strange disguise-- - Shall be the last to fade - From these rapt eyes, - Ere the first dart of daybreak - Pierce the skies. - - - - - VAIN QUESTIONING - - What needest thou?--a few brief hours of rest - Wherein to seek thyself in thine own breast; - A transient silence wherein truth could say - Such was thy constant hope, and this thy way?-- - O burden of life that is - A livelong tangle of perplexities! - - What seekest thou?--a truce from that thou art; - Some steadfast refuge from a fickle heart; - Still to be thou, and yet no thing of scorn, - To find no stay here, and yet not forlorn?-- - O riddle of life that is - An endless war 'twixt contrarieties. - - Leave this vain questioning. Is not sweet the rose? - Sings not the wild bird ere to rest he goes? - Hath not in miracle brave June returned? - Burns not her beauty as of old it burned? - O foolish one to roam - So far in thine own mind away from home! - - Where blooms the flower when her petals fade, - Where sleepeth echo by earth's music made, - Where all things transient to the changeless win, - There waits the peace thy spirit dwelleth in. - - - - - VIGIL - - Dark is the night, - The fire burns faint and low, - Hours--days--years, - Into grey ashes go; - I strive to read, - But sombre is the glow. - - Thumbed are the pages, - And the print is small; - Mocking the winds - That from the darkness call; - Feeble the fire that lends - Its light withal. - - O ghost, draw nearer; - Let thy shadowy hair, - Blot out the pages - That we cannot share; - Be ours the one last leaf - By Fate left bare! - - Let's Finis scrawl, - And then Life's book put by; - Turn each to each - In all simplicity: - Ere the last flame is gone - To warm us by. - - - - - THE OLD MEN - - Old and alone, sit we, - Caged, riddle-rid men; - Lost to earth's 'Listen!' and 'See!' - Thought's 'Wherefore?' and 'When?' - - Only far memories stray - Of a past once lovely, but now - Wasted and faded away, - Like green leaves from the bough. - - Vast broods the silence of night, - The ruinous moon - Lifts on our faces her light, - Whence all dreaming is gone. - - We speak not; trembles each head; - In their sockets our eyes are still; - Desire as cold as the dead; - Without wonder or will. - - And One, with a lanthorn, draws near, - At clash with the moon in our eyes: - 'Where art thou?' he asks: 'I am here,' - One by one we arise. - - And none lifts a hand to withhold - A friend from the touch of that foe: - Heart cries unto heart, 'Thou art old!' - Yet reluctant, we go. - - - - - THE DREAMER - - O thou who giving helm and sword, - Gav'st, too, the rusting rain, - And starry dark's all tender dews - To blunt and stain: - - Out of the battle I am sped, - Unharmed, yet stricken sore; - A living shape 'mid whispering shades - On Lethe's shore. - - No trophy in my hands I bring, - To this sad, sighing stream, - The neighings and the trumps and cries - Were but a dream--a dream. - - Traitor to life, of life betrayed-- - O, of thy mercy deep, - A dream my all, the all I ask - Is sleep. - - - - - HAPPY ENGLAND - - Now each man's mind all Europe is: - Boding and fear in dread array - Daze every heart: O grave and wise, - Abide in hope the judgment day. - - This war of millions in arms - In myriad replica we wage; - Unmoved, then, Soul, by earth's alarms - The dangers of the dark engage. - - Remember happy England: keep - For her bright cause thy latest breath; - Her peace that long hath lulled to sleep, - May now exact the sleep of death. - - Her woods and wilds, her loveliness, - With harvest now are richly at rest; - Safe in her isled securities, - Thy children's heaven is her breast. - - - O what a deep contented night - The sun from out her Eastern seas - Would bring the dust which in her sight - Had given its all for these! - - - - - MOTLEY - - Come, Death, I'd have a word with thee; - And thou, poor Innocency; - And Love--a lad with broken wing; - And Pity, too: - The Fool shall sing to you, - As Fools will sing. - - Ay, music hath small sense, - And a tune's soon told, - And Earth is old, - And my poor wits are dense; - Yet have I secrets,--dark, my dear, - To breathe you all: Come near. - And lest some hideous listener tells, - I'll ring my bells. - - They're all at war!-- - Yes, yes, their bodies go - 'Neath burning sun and icy star - To chaunted songs of woe, - Dragging cold cannon through a mire - Of rain and blood and spouting fire, - The new moon glinting hard on eyes - Wide with insanities! - - Hush! ... I use words - I hardly know the meaning of; - And the mute birds - Are glancing at Love - From out their shade of leaf and flower, - Trembling at treacheries - Which even in noonday cower. - Heed, heed not what I said - Of frenzied hosts of men, - More fools than I, - On envy, hatred fed, - Who kill, and die-- - Spake I not plainly, then? - Yet Pity whispered, 'Why?' - - Thou silly thing, off to thy daisies go. - Mine was not news for child to know, - And Death--no ears hath. He hath supped where creep - Eyeless worms in hush of sleep; - Yet, when he smiles, the hand he draws - Athwart his grinning jaws-- - Faintly the thin bones rattle, and--There, there; - Hearken how my bells in the air - Drive away care!... - - Nay, but a dream I had - Of a world all mad. - Not simple happy mad like me, - Who am mad like an empty scene - Of water and willow tree, - Where the wind hath been; - But that foul Satan-mad, - Who rots in his own head, - And counts the dead, - Not honest one--and two-- - But for the ghosts they were, - Brave, faithful, true, - When, head in air, - In Earth's clear green and blue - Heaven they did share - With beauty who bade them there.... - - There, now! Death goes-- - Mayhap I've wearied him. - Ay, and the light doth dim, - And asleep's the rose, - And tired Innocence - In dreams is hence.... - Come, Love, my lad, - Nodding that drowsy head, - 'Tis time thy prayers were said! - - - - - THE MARIONETTES - - Let the foul Scene proceed: - There's laughter in the wings; - 'Tis sawdust that they bleed, - But a box Death brings. - - How rare a skill is theirs - These extreme pangs to show, - How real a frenzy wears - Each feigner of woe! - - Gigantic dins uprise! - Even the gods must feel - A smarting of the eyes - As these fumes upsweal. - - Strange, such a Piece is free, - While we Spectators sit, - Aghast at its agony, - Yet absorbed in it! - - Dark is the outer air, - Coldly the night draughts blow, - Mutely we stare, and stare - At the frenzied Show. - - Yet heaven hath its quiet shroud - Of deep, immutable blue-- - We cry 'An end!' We are bowed - By the dread, ''Tis true!' - - While the Shape who hoofs applause - Behind our deafened ear, - Hoots--angel-wise--'the Cause!' - And affright ev'n fear. - - - - - TO E. T.: 1917 - - You sleep too well--too far away, - For sorrowing word to soothe or wound; - Your very quiet seems to say - How longed-for a peace you have found. - - Else, had not death so lured you on, - You would have grieved--'twixt joy and fear-- - To know how my small loving son - Had wept for you, my dear. - - - - - APRIL MOON - - Roses are sweet to smell and see, - And lilies on the stem; - But rarer, stranger buds there be, - And she was like to them. - - The little moon that April brings, - More lovely shade than light, - That, setting, silvers lonely hills - Upon the verge of night-- - - Close to the world of my poor heart - So stole she, still and clear; - Now that she's gone, O dark, and dark, - The solitude--the fear. - - - - - THE FOOL'S SONG - - Never, no never, listen too long, - To the chattering wind in the willows, the night - bird's song. - - 'Tis sad in sooth to lie under the grass, - But none too gladsome to wake and grow cold - where life's shadows pass. - - Dumb the old Toll-Woman squats, - And, for every green copper battered and worn, - doles out Nevers and Nots. - - I know a Blind Man, too, - Who with a sharp ear listens and listens the - whole world through. - - Oh, sit we snug to our feast. - With platter and finger and spoon--and good - victuals at least. - - - - - CLEAR EYES - - Clear eyes do dim at last, - And cheeks outlive their rose. - Time, heedless of the past, - No loving-kindness knows; - Chill unto mortal lip - Still Lethe flows. - - Griefs, too, but brief while stay, - And sorrow, being o'er, - Its salt tears shed away, - Woundeth the heart no more. - Stealthily lave those waters - That solemn shore. - - Ah, then, sweet face burn on, - While yet quick memory lives! - And Sorrow, ere thou art gone, - Know that my heart forgives-- - Ere yet, grown cold in peace, - It loves not, nor grieves. - - - - - DUST TO DUST - - Heavenly Archer, bend thy bow; - Now the flame of life burns low, - Youth is gone; I, too, would go. - - Ever Fortune leads to this: - Harsh or kind, at last she is - Murderess of all ecstasies. - - Yet the spirit, dark, alone, - Bound in sense, still hearkens on - For tidings of a bliss foregone. - - Sleep is well for dreamless head, - At no breath astonished, - From the Gardens of the Dead. - - I the immortal harps hear ring, - By Babylon's river languishing. - Heavenly Archer, loose thy string. - - - - - THE THREE STRANGERS - - Far are those tranquil hills, - Dyed with fair evening's rose; - On urgent, secret errand bent, - A traveller goes. - - Approach him strangers three, - Barefooted, cowled; their eyes - Scan the lone, hastening solitary - With dumb surmise. - - One instant in close speech - With them he doth confer: - God-sped, he hasteneth on, - That anxious traveller... - - I was that man--in a dream: - And each world's night in vain - I patient wait on sleep to unveil - Those vivid hills again. - - Would that they three could know - How yet burns on in me - Love--from one lost in Paradise-- - For their grave courtesy. - - - - - ALEXANDER - - It was the Great Alexander, - Capped with a golden helm, - Sate in the ages, in his floating ship, - In a dead calm. - - Voices of sea-maids singing - Wandered across the deep: - The sailors labouring on their oars - Rowed, as in sleep. - - All the high pomp of Asia, - Charmed by that siren lay, - Out of their weary and dreaming minds, - Faded away. - - Like a bold boy sate their Captain, - His glamour withered and gone, - In the souls of his brooding mariners, - While the song pined on. - - Time, like a falling dew, - Life, like the scene of a dream, - Laid between slumber and slumber, - Only did seem.... - - O Alexander, then, - In all us mortals too, - Wax thou not bold--too bold - On the wave dark-blue! - - Come the calm, infinite night, - Who then will hear - Aught save the singing - Of the sea-maids clear? - - - - - THE REAWAKENING - - Green in light are the hills, and a calm wind flowing - Filleth the void with a flood of the fragrance of Spring; - Wings in this mansion of life are coming and going, - Voices of unseen loveliness carol and sing. - - Coloured with buds of delight the boughs are swaying, - Beauty walks in the woods, and wherever she rove - Flowers from wintry sleep, her enchantment obeying, - Stir in the deep of her dream, reawaken to love. - - Oh, now begone sullen care--this light is my seeing; - I am the palace, and mine are its windows and walls; - Daybreak is come, and life from the darkness of being - Springs, like a child from the womb, when the lonely one calls. - - - - - THE VACANT DAY - - As I did walk in meadows green - I heard the summer noon resound - With call of myriad things unseen - That leapt and crept upon the ground. - - High overhead the windless air - Throbbed with the homesick coursing cry - Of swallows that did everywhere - Wake echo in the sky. - - Beside me, too, clear waters coursed - Which willow branches, lapsing low, - Breaking their crystal gliding forced - To sing as they did flow. - - I listened; and my heart was dumb - With praise no language could express; - Longing in vain for him to come - Who had breathed such blessedness. - - On this fair world, wherein we pass - So chequered and so brief a stay; - And yearned in spirit to learn, alas, - What kept him still away. - - - - - THE FLIGHT - - How do the days press on, and lay - Their fallen locks at evening down, - Whileas the stars in darkness play - And moonbeams weave a crown-- - - A crown of flower-like light in heaven, - Where in the hollow arch of space - Morn's mistress dreams, and the Pleiads seven - Stand watch about her place. - - Stand watch--O days no number keep - Of hours when this dark clay is blind. - When the world's clocks are dumb in sleep - 'Tis then I seek my kind. - - - - - THE TWO HOUSES - - In the strange city of Life - Two houses I know well: - One wherein Silence a garden hath, - And one where Dark doth dwell. - - Roof unto roof they stand, - Shadowing the dizzied street, - Where Vanity flaunts her gilded booths - In the noontide glare and heat. - - Green-graped upon their walls - An ancient hoary vine - Hath clustered their carven, lichenous stones - With tendril serpentine. - - And ever and anon, - Dazed in that clamorous throng, - I thirst for the soundless fount that stills - Those orchards mute of song. - - Knock, knock, nor knock in vain: - Heart all thy secrets tell - Where Silence a fast-sealed garden hath, - Where Dark doth dwell. - - - - - FOR ALL THE GRIEF - - For all the grief I have given with words - May now a few clear flowers blow, - In the dust, and the heat, and the silence of birds, - Where the lonely go. - - For the thing unsaid that heart asked of me - Be a dark, cool water calling--calling - To the footsore, benighted, solitary, - When the shadows are falling. - - O, be beauty for all my blindness, - A moon in the air where the weary wend, - And dews burdened with loving-kindness - In the dark of the end. - - - - - THE SCRIBE - - What lovely things - Thy hand hath made: - The smooth-plumed bird - In its emerald shade, - The seed of the grass, - The speck of stone - Which the wayfaring ant - Stirs--and hastes on! - - Though I should sit - By some tarn in thy hills, - Using its ink - As the spirit wills - To write of Earth's wonders, - Its live, willed things, - Flit would the ages - On soundless wings - Ere unto Z - My pen drew nigh; - Leviathan told, - And the honey-fly: - And still would remain - My wit to try-- - My worn reeds broken, - The dark tarn dry, - All words forgotten-- - Thou, Lord, and I. - - - - - FARE WELL - - When I lie where shades of darkness - Shall no more assail mine eyes, - Nor the rain make lamentation - When the wind sighs; - How will fare the world whose wonder - Was the very proof of me? - Memory fades, must the remembered - Perishing be? - - Oh, when this my dust surrenders - Hand, foot, lip, to dust again, - May these loved and loving faces - Please other men! - May the rusting harvest hedgerow - Still the Traveller's Joy entwine, - And as happy children gather - Posies once mine. - - Look thy last on all things lovely, - Every hour. Let no night - Seal thy sense in deathly slumber - Till to delight - Thou have paid thy utmost blessing; - Since that all things thou wouldst praise - Beauty took from those who loved them - In other days. - - - - - Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty - at the Edinburgh University Press - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTLEY AND OTHER POEMS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Motley and other poems</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Walter de la Mare</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 4, 2022 [eBook #68458]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Al Haines</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTLEY AND OTHER POEMS ***</div> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> -MOTLEY -</h1> - -<p class="t3b"> -AND OTHER POEMS -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -BY -</p> - -<p class="t2"> -WALTER DE LA MARE -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -LONDON -<br /> -CONSTABLE AND COMPANY LTD -<br /> -1918 -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> -<i>Printed in Great Britain</i> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -NOTE -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -The author wishes to thank the Editors -of the <i>English Review</i>, the <i>Times</i>, the -<i>New Statesman</i>, <i>Form</i>, the <i>Gipsy</i>, the -<i>Yale Review</i>, and the <i>Westminster Gazette</i> -for permission to reprint poems included -in this volume. -</p> - -<p> -A selection from among the poems -included in this volume has been published -in a limited edition in a volume -issued by the Beaumont Press. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -<i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -THE LISTENERS and Other Poems. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -PEACOCK PIE. A Book of Rhymes.<br /> - Also an Illustrated Edition, with Black and<br /> - White Drawings by W. HEATH ROBINSON.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -POEMS. -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -A CHILD'S DAY. A Book of Rhymes.<br /> - Illustrated.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -HENRY BROCKEN. A Novel. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - CONTENTS<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent" style="line-height: 150%"> - <a href="#chap01">THE LITTLE SALAMANDER</a><br /> - <a href="#chap02">THE LINNET</a><br /> - <a href="#chap03">THE SUNKEN GARDEN</a><br /> - <a href="#chap04">THE RIDDLERS</a><br /> - <a href="#chap07">MOONLIGHT</a><br /> - <a href="#chap08">THE BLIND BOY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap09">THE QUARRY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap10">MRS. GRUNDY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap12">THE TRYST</a><br /> - <a href="#chap14">ALONE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap15">EMPTY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap17">MISTRESS FELL</a><br /> - <a href="#chap19">THE GHOST</a><br /> - <a href="#chap21">THE STRANGER</a><br /> - <a href="#chap23">BETRAYAL</a><br /> - <a href="#chap24">THE CAGE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap25">THE REVENANT</a><br /> - <a href="#chap27">MUSIC</a><br /> - <a href="#chap28">THE REMONSTRANCE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap30">NOCTURNE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap31">THE EXILE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap32">THE UNCHANGING</a><br /> - <a href="#chap33">NIGHTFALL</a><br /> - <a href="#chap35">INVOCATION</a><br /> - <a href="#chap36">EYES</a><br /> - <a href="#chap37">LIFE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap38">THE DISGUISE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap40">VAIN QUESTIONING</a><br /> - <a href="#chap42">VIGIL</a><br /> - <a href="#chap44">THE OLD MEN</a><br /> - <a href="#chap46">THE DREAMER</a><br /> - <a href="#chap47">HAPPY ENGLAND</a><br /> - <a href="#chap49">MOTLEY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap53">THE MARIONETTES</a><br /> - <a href="#chap55">TO E. T.: 1917</a><br /> - <a href="#chap56">APRIL MOON</a><br /> - <a href="#chap57">THE FOOL'S SONG</a><br /> - <a href="#chap58">CLEAR EYES</a><br /> - <a href="#chap59">DUST TO DUST</a><br /> - <a href="#chap60">THE THREE STRANGERS</a><br /> - <a href="#chap62">ALEXANDER</a><br /> - <a href="#chap64">THE REAWAKENING</a><br /> - <a href="#chap66">THE VACANT DAY</a><br /> - <a href="#chap68">THE FLIGHT</a><br /> - <a href="#chap69">THE TWO HOUSES</a><br /> - <a href="#chap71">FOR ALL THE GRIEF</a><br /> - <a href="#chap72">THE SCRIBE</a><br /> - <a href="#chap74">FARE WELL</a><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap01"></a> - THE LITTLE SALAMANDER -</h3> - -<p class="t3"> - TO MARGOT<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - When I go free,<br /> - I think 'twill be<br /> - A night of stars and snow,<br /> - And the wild fires of frost shall light<br /> - My footsteps as I go;<br /> - Nobody—nobody will be there<br /> - With groping touch, or sight,<br /> - To see me in my bush of hair<br /> - Dance burning through the night.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap02"></a> - THE LINNET<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Upon this leafy bush<br /> - With thorns and roses in it,<br /> - Flutters a thing of light,<br /> - A twittering linnet.<br /> - And all the throbbing world<br /> - Of dew and sun and air<br /> - By this small parcel of life<br /> - Is made more fair;<br /> - As if each bramble-spray<br /> - And mounded gold-wreathed furze,<br /> - Harebell and little thyme,<br /> - Were only hers;<br /> - As if this beauty and grace<br /> - Did to one bird belong,<br /> - And, at a flutter of wing,<br /> - Might vanish in song.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap03"></a> - THE SUNKEN GARDEN<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Speak not—whisper not;<br /> - Here bloweth thyme and bergamot;<br /> - Softly on the evening hour,<br /> - Secret herbs their spices shower,<br /> - Dark-spiked rosemary and myrrh,<br /> - Lean-stalked, purple lavender;<br /> - Hides within her bosom, too,<br /> - All her sorrows, bitter rue.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Breathe not—trespass not;<br /> - Of this green and darkling spot,<br /> - Latticed from the moon's beams,<br /> - Perchance a distant dreamer dreams;<br /> - Perchance upon its darkening air,<br /> - The unseen ghosts of children fare,<br /> - Faintly swinging, sway and sweep,<br /> - Like lovely sea-flowers in its deep;<br /> - While, unmoved, to watch and ward,<br /> - 'Mid its gloomed and daisied sward,<br /> - Stands with bowed and dewy head<br /> - That one little leaden Lad.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap04"></a> - THE RIDDLERS<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Thou solitary!' the Blackbird cried,<br /> - 'I, from the happy Wren,<br /> - Linnet and Blackcap, Woodlark, Thrush,<br /> - Perched all upon a sweetbrier bush,<br /> - Have come at cold of midnight-tide<br /> - To ask thee, Why and when<br /> - Grief smote thy heart so thou dost sing<br /> - In solemn hush of evening,<br /> - So sorrowfully, lovelorn Thing—<br /> - Nay, nay, not sing, but rave, but wail,<br /> - Most melancholic Nightingale?<br /> - Do not the dews of darkness steep<br /> - All pinings of the day in sleep?<br /> - Why, then, when rocked in starry nest<br /> - We mutely couch, secure, at rest,<br /> - Doth thy lone heart delight to make<br /> - Music for sorrow's sake?'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - A Moon was there. So still her beam,<br /> - It seemed the whole world lay a-dream,<br /> - Lulled by the watery sea.<br /> - And from her leafy night-hung nook<br /> - Upon this stranger soft did look<br /> - The Nightingale: sighed he:—<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - ''Tis strange, my friend; the Kingfisher<br /> - But yestermorn conjured me here<br /> - Out of his green and gold to say<br /> - Why thou, in splendour of the noon,<br /> - Wearest of colour but golden shoon,<br /> - And else dost thee array<br /> - In a most sombre suit of black?<br /> - "Surely," he sighed, "some load of grief,<br /> - Past all our thinking—and belief—<br /> - Must weigh upon his back!"<br /> - Do, then, in turn, tell me, If joy<br /> - Thy heart as well as voice employ,<br /> - Why dost thou now, most Sable, shine<br /> - In plumage woefuller far than mine?<br /> - Thy silence is a sadder thing<br /> - Than any dirge I sing!'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Thus then these two small birds, perched there,<br /> - Breathed a strange riddle both did share<br /> - Yet neither could expound.<br /> - And we—who sing but as we can,<br /> - In the small knowledge of a man—<br /> - Have we an answer found?<br /> - Nay, some are happy whose delight<br /> - Is hid even from themselves from sight;<br /> - And some win peace who spend<br /> - The skill of words to sweeten despair<br /> - Of finding consolation where<br /> - Life has but one dark end;<br /> - Who, in rapt solitude, tell o'er<br /> - A tale, as lovely as forlore,<br /> - Into the midnight air.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap07"></a> - MOONLIGHT<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - The far moon maketh lovers wise<br /> - In her pale beauty trembling down,<br /> - Lending curved cheeks, dark lips, dark eyes,<br /> - A strangeness not their own.<br /> - And, though they shut their lids to kiss,<br /> - In starless darkness peace to win,<br /> - Even on that secret world from this<br /> - Her twilight enters in.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap08"></a> - THE BLIND BOY<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'I have no master,' said the Blind Boy,<br /> - My mother, "Dame Venus," they do call;<br /> - Cowled in this hood, she sent me begging<br /> - For whate'er in pity may befall.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Hard was her visage, me adjuring,—<br /> - "Have no fond mercy on the kind!<br /> - Here be sharp arrows, bunched in quiver,<br /> - Draw close ere striking—thou art blind."<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'So stand I here, my woes entreating,<br /> - In this dark alley, lest the Moon<br /> - Point with her sparkling my barbed armoury,<br /> - Shine on my silver-laced shoon.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Oh, sir, unkind this Dame to me-ward;<br /> - Of the salt billow was her birth....<br /> - In your sweet charity draw nearer<br /> - The saddest rogue on Earth!'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap09"></a> - THE QUARRY<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - You hunted me with all the pack,<br /> - Too blind, too blind, to see<br /> - By no wild hope of force or greed<br /> - Could you make sure of me.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And like a phantom through the glades,<br /> - With tender breast aglow,<br /> - The goddess in me laughed to hear<br /> - Your horns a-roving go.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - She laughed to think no mortal e'er<br /> - By dint of mortal flesh<br /> - The very Cause that was the Hunt<br /> - One moment could enmesh:<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - That though with captive limbs I lay,<br /> - Stilled breath and vanquished eyes,<br /> - He that hunts Love with horse and hound<br /> - Hunts out his heart and eyes.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap10"></a> - MRS. GRUNDY<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Step very softly, sweet Quiet-foot,<br /> - Stumble not, whisper not, smile not:<br /> - By this dark ivy stoop cheek and brow.<br /> - Still even thy heart! What seest thou?'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'High-coifed, broad-browed, aged, suave yet grim,<br /> - A large flat face, eyes keenly dim,<br /> - Staring at nothing—that's me!—and yet,<br /> - With a hate one could never, no, never forget...'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'This is my world, my garden, my home,<br /> - Hither my father bade mother to come<br /> - And bear me out of the dark into light,<br /> - And happy I was in her tender sight.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'And then, thou frail flower, she died and went,<br /> - Forgetting my pitiless banishment,<br /> - And that Old Woman—an Aunt—she said,<br /> - Came hither, lodged, fattened, and made her bed.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Oh yes, thou most blessed, from Monday to Sunday<br /> - Has lived on me, preyed on me, Mrs. Grundy:<br /> - Called me, "dear Nephew"; on each of those chairs<br /> - Has gloated in righteousness, heard my prayers.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Why didst thou dare the thorns of the grove,<br /> - Timidest trespasser, huntress of love?<br /> - Now thou hast peeped, and now dost know<br /> - What kind of creature is thine for foe.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Not that she'll tear out thy innocent eyes,<br /> - Poison thy mouth with deviltries.<br /> - Watch thou, wait thou: soon will begin<br /> - The guile of a voice: hark!...' 'Come in, Come in!'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap12"></a> - THE TRYST -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Flee into some forgotten night and be<br /> - Of all dark long my moon-bright company:<br /> - Beyond the rumour even of Paradise come,<br /> - There, out of all remembrance, make our home:<br /> - Seek we some close hid shadow for our lair,<br /> - Hollowed by Noah's mouse beneath the chair<br /> - Wherein the Omnipotent, in slumber bound,<br /> - Nods till the piteous Trump of Judgment sound.<br /> - Perchance Leviathan of the deep sea<br /> - Would lease a lost mermaiden's grot to me,<br /> - There of your beauty we would joyance make—<br /> - A music wistful for the sea-nymph's sake:<br /> - Haply Elijah, o'er his spokes of fibre,<br /> - Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre,<br /> - Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space,<br /> - Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace,<br /> - Where two might happy be—just you and I—<br /> - Lost in the uttermost of Eternity.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Think! in Time's smallest clock's minutest beat<br /> - Might there not rest be found for wandering feet?<br /> - Or, 'twixt the sleep and wake of a Helen's dream,<br /> - Silence wherein to sing love's requiem?<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - No, no. Nor earth, nor air, nor fire, nor deep<br /> - Could lull poor mortal longingness asleep.<br /> - Somewhere there Nothing is; and there lost Man<br /> - Shall win what changeless vague of peace he can.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap14"></a> - ALONE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - The abode of the nightingale is bare,<br /> - Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air,<br /> - The fox howls from his frozen lair:<br /> - Alas, my loved one is gone,<br /> - I am alone:<br /> - It is winter.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Once the pink cast a winy smell,<br /> - The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell,<br /> - Light in effulgence of beauty fell:<br /> - Alas, my loved one is gone,<br /> - I am alone:<br /> - It is winter.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - My candle a silent fire doth shed,<br /> - Starry Orion hunts o'erhead;<br /> - Come moth, come shadow, the world is dead:<br /> - Alas, my loved one is gone,<br /> - I am alone;<br /> - It is winter.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap15"></a> - THE EMPTY HOUSE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - See this house, how dark it is<br /> - Beneath its vast-boughed trees!<br /> - Not one trembling leaflet cries<br /> - To that Watcher in the skies—<br /> - 'Remove, remove thy searching gaze,<br /> - Innocent, of heaven's ways,<br /> - Brood not, Moon, so wildly bright,<br /> - On secrets hidden from sight.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Secrets,' sighs the night-wind,<br /> - 'Vacancy is all I find;<br /> - Every keyhole I have made<br /> - Wail a summons, faint and sad,<br /> - No voice ever answers me,<br /> - Only vacancy.'<br /> - 'Once, once...' the cricket shrills,<br /> - And far and near the quiet fills<br /> - With its tiny voice, and then<br /> - Hush falls again.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Mute shadows creeping slow<br /> - Mark how the hours go.<br /> - Every stone is mouldering slow.<br /> - And the least winds that blow<br /> - Some minutest atom shake,<br /> - Some fretting ruin make<br /> - In roof and walls. How black it is<br /> - Beneath these thick-boughed trees!<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap17"></a> - MISTRESS FELL<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Whom seek you here, sweet Mistress Fell?'<br /> - 'One who loved me passing well.<br /> - Dark his eye, wild his face—<br /> - Stranger, if in this lonely place<br /> - Bide such an one, then, prythee, say<br /> - <i>I</i> am come here to-day.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Many his like, Mistress Fell?'<br /> - 'I did not look, so cannot tell.<br /> - Only this I surely know,<br /> - When his voice called me, I must go;<br /> - Touched me his fingers, and my heart<br /> - Leapt at the sweet pain's smart.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Why did he leave you, Mistress Fell?'<br /> - 'Magic laid its dreary spell.—<br /> - Stranger, he was fast asleep;<br /> - Into his dream I tried to creep;<br /> - Called his name, soft was my cry:<br /> - He answered—not one sigh.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'The flower and the thorn are here;<br /> - Falleth the night-dew, cold and clear;<br /> - Out of her bower the bird replies,<br /> - Mocking the dark with ecstasies,<br /> - See how the earth's green grass doth grow,<br /> - Praising what sleeps below!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Thus have they told me. And I come,<br /> - As flies the wounded wild-bird home.<br /> - Not tears I give; but all that he<br /> - Clasped in his arms, sweet charity;<br /> - All that he loved—to him I bring<br /> - For a close whispering.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap19"></a> - THE GHOST<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Who knocks?' 'I, who was beautiful,<br /> - Beyond all dreams to restore,<br /> - I, from the roots of the dark thorn am hither,<br /> - And knock on the door.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Who speaks?' 'I—once was my speech<br /> - Sweet as the bird's on the air.<br /> - When echo lurks by the waters to heed;<br /> - 'Tis I speak thee fair.'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Dark is the hour!' 'Ay, and cold.'<br /> - 'Lone is my house.' 'Ah, but mine?'<br /> - 'Sight, touch, lips, eyes yearned in vain.'<br /> - 'Long dead these to thine...<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Silence. Still faint on the porch<br /> - Brake the flames of the stars.<br /> - In gloom groped a hope-wearied hand<br /> - Over keys, bolts, and bars.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - A face peered. All the grey night<br /> - In chaos of vacancy shone;<br /> - Nought but vast Sorrow was there—<br /> - The sweet cheat gone.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap21"></a> - THE STRANGER -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - In the woods as I did walk,<br /> - Dappled with the moon's beam,<br /> - I did with a Stranger talk,<br /> - And his name was Dream.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Spurred his heel, dark his cloak,<br /> - Shady-wide his bonnet's brim;<br /> - His horse beneath a silvery oak<br /> - Grazed as I talked with him.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Softly his breast-brooch burned and shone;<br /> - Hill and deep were in his eyes;<br /> - One of his hands held mine, and one<br /> - The fruit that makes men wise.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Wonderly strange was earth to see,<br /> - Flowers white as milk did gleam;<br /> - Spread to Heaven the Assyrian Tree,<br /> - Over my head with Dream.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Dews were still betwixt us twain;<br /> - Stars a trembling beauty shed;<br /> - Yet—not a whisper comes again<br /> - Of the words he said.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap23"></a> - BETRAYAL<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - She will not die, they say,<br /> - She will but put her beauty by<br /> - And hie away.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Oh, but her beauty gone, how lonely<br /> - Then will seem all reverie,<br /> - How black to me!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - All things will sad be made<br /> - And every hope a memory,<br /> - All gladness dead.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Ghosts of the past will know<br /> - My weakest hour, and whisper to me,<br /> - And coldly go.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And hers in deep of sleep,<br /> - Clothed in its mortal beauty I shall see,<br /> - And, waking, weep.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Naught will my mind then find<br /> - In man's false Heaven my peace to be:<br /> - All blind, and blind.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap24"></a> - THE CAGE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Why did you flutter in vain hope, poor bird,<br /> - Hard-pressed in your small cage of clay?<br /> - 'Twas but a sweet, false echo that you heard,<br /> - Caught only a feint of day.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Still is the night all dark, a homeless dark.<br /> - Burn yet the unanswering stars. And silence brings<br /> - The same sea's desolate surge—<i>sans</i> bound or mark—<br /> - Of all your wanderings.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Fret now no more; be still. Those steadfast eyes,<br /> - Those folded hands, they cannot set you free;<br /> - Only with beauty wake wild memories—<br /> - Sorrow for where you are, for where you would be.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap25"></a> - THE REVENANT<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - O all ye fair ladies with your colours and your graces,<br /> - And your eyes clear in flame of candle and hearth,<br /> - To'rd the dark of this old window lift not up your smiling faces,<br /> - Where a Shade stands forlorn from the cold of the earth.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - God knows I could not rest for one I still was thinking of;<br /> - Like a rose sheathed in beauty her spirit was to me;<br /> - Now out of unforgottenness a bitter draught I'm drinking of,<br /> - 'Tis sad of such beauty unremembered to be.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Men all are shades, O Women.—Winds wist not of the way they blow.<br /> - Apart from your kindness, life's at best but a snare.<br /> - Though a tongue now past praise this bitter thing doth say, I know<br /> - What solitude means, and how, homeless, I fare.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Strange, strange, are ye all—except in beauty shared with her—<br /> - Since I seek one I loved, yet was faithless to in death.<br /> - Not life enough I heaped, so thus my heart must fare with her,<br /> - Now wrapt in the gross clay, bereft of life's breath.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap27"></a> - MUSIC<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - When music sounds, gone is the earth I know,<br /> - And all her lovely things even lovelier grow;<br /> - Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees,<br /> - Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - When music sounds, out of the water rise<br /> - Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes,<br /> - Rapt in strange dream burns each enchanted face,<br /> - With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - When music sounds, all that I was I am<br /> - Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came;<br /> - While from Time's woods break into distant song<br /> - The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap28"></a> - THE REMONSTRANCE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - I was at peace until you came<br /> - And set a careless mind aflame.<br /> - I lived in quiet; cold, content;<br /> - All longing in safe banishment,<br /> - Until your ghostly lips and eyes<br /> - Made wisdom unwise.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Naught was in me to tempt your feet<br /> - To seek a lodging. Quite forgot<br /> - Lay the sweet solitude we two<br /> - In childhood used to wander through;<br /> - Time's cold had closed my heart about;<br /> - And shut you out.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Well, and what then? ... O vision grave,<br /> - Take all the little all I have!<br /> - Strip me of what in voiceless thought<br /> - Life's kept of life, unhoped, unsought!—<br /> - Reverie and dream that memory must<br /> - Hide deep in dust!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - This only I say,—Though cold and bare<br /> - The haunted house you have chosen to share,<br /> - Still 'neath its walls the moonbeam goes<br /> - And trembles on the untended rose;<br /> - Still o'er its broken roof-tree rise<br /> - The starry arches of the skies;<br /> - And 'neath your lightest word shall be<br /> - The thunder of an ebbing sea.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap30"></a> - NOCTURNE -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Tis not my voice now speaks; but as a bird<br /> - In darkling forest hollows a sweet throat—<br /> - Pleads on till distant echo too hath heard<br /> - And doubles every note:<br /> - So love that shrouded dwells in mystery<br /> - Would cry and waken thee.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Thou Solitary, stir in thy still sleep;<br /> - All the night waits thee, yet thou still dream'st on.<br /> - Furtive the shadows that about thee creep,<br /> - And cheat the shining footsteps of the moon:<br /> - Unseal thine eyes, it is my heart that sings,<br /> - And beats in vain its wings.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Lost in heaven's vague, the stars burn softly thro'<br /> - The world's dark latticings, we prisoned stray<br /> - Within its lovely labyrinth, and know<br /> - Mute seraphs guard the way<br /> - Even from silence unto speech, from love<br /> - To that self's self it still is dreaming of.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap31"></a> - THE EXILE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - I am that Adam who, with Snake for guest,<br /> - Hid anguished eyes upon Eve's piteous breast.<br /> - I am that Adam who, with broken wings,<br /> - Fled from the Seraph's brazen trumpetings.<br /> - Betrayed and fugitive, I still must roam<br /> - A world where sin—and beauty—whisper of Home.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Oh, from wide circuit, shall at length I see<br /> - Pure daybreak lighten again on Eden's tree?<br /> - Loosed from remorse and hope and love's distress,<br /> - Enrobe me again in my lost nakedness?<br /> - No more with wordless grief a loved one grieve,<br /> - But to heaven's nothingness re-welcome Eve?<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap32"></a> - THE UNCHANGING<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - After the songless rose of evening,<br /> - Night quiet, dark, still,<br /> - In nodding cavalcade advancing<br /> - Starred the deep hill:<br /> - You, in the valley standing,<br /> - In your quiet wonder took<br /> - All that glamour, peace, and mystery<br /> - In one grave look.<br /> - Beauty hid your naked body,<br /> - Time dreamed in your bright hair,<br /> - In your eyes the constellations<br /> - Burned far and fair.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap33"></a> - NIGHTFALL<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - The last light fails—that shallow pool of day!<br /> - The coursers of the dark stamp down to drink,<br /> - Arch their wild necks, lift their wild heads and neigh;<br /> - Their drivers, gathering at the water-brink,<br /> - With eyes ashine from out their clustering hair,<br /> - Utter their hollow speech, or gaze afar,<br /> - Rapt in irradiant reverie, to where<br /> - Languishes, lost in light, the evening star.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Come the wood-nymphs to dance within the glooms,<br /> - Calling these charioteers with timbrels' din;<br /> - Ashen with twilight the dark forest looms<br /> - O'er the nocturnal beasts that prowl within<br /> - Thorn-roofed thicket, where sweet waters gush.<br /> - Resounding roar wild torrent, hungry throat;<br /> - While in the dew-drowsed branches' ebon hush,<br /> - Pouring lament of joy, the night birds float.<br /> - 'O glory of beauty which the world makes fair!'<br /> - Pant they their serenading on the air.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Sound the loud hooves, and all abroad the sky<br /> - The lusty charioteers their stations take;<br /> - Planet to planet do the sweet Loves fly,<br /> - And in the zenith silver music wake.<br /> - Cities of men, in blindness hidden low,<br /> - Fume their faint flames to that arched firmament,<br /> - But all the dwellers in the lonely know<br /> - The unearthly are abroad, and weary and spent,<br /> - With rush extinguished, to their dreaming go.<br /> - And world and night and star-enclustered space<br /> - The glory of beauty are in one enravished face.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap35"></a> - INVOCATION<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - The burning fire shakes in the night,<br /> - On high her silver candles gleam,<br /> - With far-flung arms enflamed with light,<br /> - The trees are lost in dream.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Come in thy beauty! 'tis my love,<br /> - Lost in far-wandering desire,<br /> - Hath in the darkling deep above<br /> - Set stars and kindled fire.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap36"></a> - EYES<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - O strange devices that alone divide<br /> - The seër from the seen—<br /> - The very highway of earth's pomp and pride<br /> - That lies between<br /> - The traveller and the cheating, sweet delight<br /> - Of where he longs to be,<br /> - But which, bound hand and foot, he, close on night,<br /> - Can only see.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap37"></a> - LIFE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Hearken, O dear, now strikes the hour we die;<br /> - We, who in one strange kiss<br /> - Have proved a dream the world's realities,<br /> - Turned each from other's darkness with a sigh,<br /> - Need heed no more of life, waste no more breath<br /> - On any other journey, but of death.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And yet: Oh, know we well<br /> - How each of us must prove Love's infidel;<br /> - Still out of ecstasy turn trembling back<br /> - To earth's same empty track<br /> - Of leaden day by day, and hour by hour, and be<br /> - Of all things lovely the cold mortuary.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap38"></a> - THE DISGUISE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Why in my heart, O Grief,<br /> - Dost thou in beauty bide?<br /> - Dead is my well-content,<br /> - And buried deep my pride.<br /> - Cold are their stones, beloved,<br /> - To hand and side.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - The shadows of even are gone,<br /> - Shut are the day's clear flowers,<br /> - Now have her birds left mute<br /> - Their singing bowers,<br /> - Lone shall we be, we twain,<br /> - In the night hours.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Thou with thy cheek on mine,<br /> - And dark hair loosed, shalt see<br /> - Take the far stars for fruit<br /> - The cypress tree,<br /> - And in the yew's black<br /> - Shall the moon be.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - We will tell no old tales,<br /> - Nor heed if in wandering air<br /> - Die a lost song of love<br /> - Or the once fair;<br /> - Still as well-water be<br /> - The thoughts we share!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And, while the ghosts keep<br /> - Tryst from chill sepulchres,<br /> - Dreamless our gaze shall sleep,<br /> - And sealed our ears;<br /> - Heart unto heart will speak,<br /> - Without tears.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O, thy veiled, lovely face—<br /> - Joy's strange disguise—<br /> - Shall be the last to fade<br /> - From these rapt eyes,<br /> - Ere the first dart of daybreak<br /> - Pierce the skies.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap40"></a> - VAIN QUESTIONING -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - What needest thou?—a few brief hours of rest<br /> - Wherein to seek thyself in thine own breast;<br /> - A transient silence wherein truth could say<br /> - Such was thy constant hope, and this thy way?—<br /> - O burden of life that is<br /> - A livelong tangle of perplexities!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - What seekest thou?—a truce from that thou art;<br /> - Some steadfast refuge from a fickle heart;<br /> - Still to be thou, and yet no thing of scorn,<br /> - To find no stay here, and yet not forlorn?—<br /> - O riddle of life that is<br /> - An endless war 'twixt contrarieties.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Leave this vain questioning. Is not sweet the rose?<br /> - Sings not the wild bird ere to rest he goes?<br /> - Hath not in miracle brave June returned?<br /> - Burns not her beauty as of old it burned?<br /> - O foolish one to roam<br /> - So far in thine own mind away from home!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Where blooms the flower when her petals fade,<br /> - Where sleepeth echo by earth's music made,<br /> - Where all things transient to the changeless win,<br /> - There waits the peace thy spirit dwelleth in.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap42"></a> - VIGIL<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Dark is the night,<br /> - The fire burns faint and low,<br /> - Hours—days—years,<br /> - Into grey ashes go;<br /> - I strive to read,<br /> - But sombre is the glow.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Thumbed are the pages,<br /> - And the print is small;<br /> - Mocking the winds<br /> - That from the darkness call;<br /> - Feeble the fire that lends<br /> - Its light withal.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O ghost, draw nearer;<br /> - Let thy shadowy hair,<br /> - Blot out the pages<br /> - That we cannot share;<br /> - Be ours the one last leaf<br /> - By Fate left bare!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Let's Finis scrawl,<br /> - And then Life's book put by;<br /> - Turn each to each<br /> - In all simplicity:<br /> - Ere the last flame is gone<br /> - To warm us by.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap44"></a> - THE OLD MEN<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Old and alone, sit we,<br /> - Caged, riddle-rid men;<br /> - Lost to earth's 'Listen!' and 'See!'<br /> - Thought's 'Wherefore?' and 'When?'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Only far memories stray<br /> - Of a past once lovely, but now<br /> - Wasted and faded away,<br /> - Like green leaves from the bough.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Vast broods the silence of night,<br /> - The ruinous moon<br /> - Lifts on our faces her light,<br /> - Whence all dreaming is gone.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - We speak not; trembles each head;<br /> - In their sockets our eyes are still;<br /> - Desire as cold as the dead;<br /> - Without wonder or will.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And One, with a lanthorn, draws near,<br /> - At clash with the moon in our eyes:<br /> - 'Where art thou?' he asks: 'I am here,'<br /> - One by one we arise.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And none lifts a hand to withhold<br /> - A friend from the touch of that foe:<br /> - Heart cries unto heart, 'Thou art old!'<br /> - Yet reluctant, we go.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap46"></a> - THE DREAMER<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - O thou who giving helm and sword,<br /> - Gav'st, too, the rusting rain,<br /> - And starry dark's all tender dews<br /> - To blunt and stain:<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Out of the battle I am sped,<br /> - Unharmed, yet stricken sore;<br /> - A living shape 'mid whispering shades<br /> - On Lethe's shore.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - No trophy in my hands I bring,<br /> - To this sad, sighing stream,<br /> - The neighings and the trumps and cries<br /> - Were but a dream—a dream.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Traitor to life, of life betrayed—<br /> - O, of thy mercy deep,<br /> - A dream my all, the all I ask<br /> - Is sleep.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap47"></a> - HAPPY ENGLAND<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Now each man's mind all Europe is:<br /> - Boding and fear in dread array<br /> - Daze every heart: O grave and wise,<br /> - Abide in hope the judgment day.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - This war of millions in arms<br /> - In myriad replica we wage;<br /> - Unmoved, then, Soul, by earth's alarms<br /> - The dangers of the dark engage.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Remember happy England: keep<br /> - For her bright cause thy latest breath;<br /> - Her peace that long hath lulled to sleep,<br /> - May now exact the sleep of death.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Her woods and wilds, her loveliness,<br /> - With harvest now are richly at rest;<br /> - Safe in her isled securities,<br /> - Thy children's heaven is her breast.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O what a deep contented night<br /> - The sun from out her Eastern seas<br /> - Would bring the dust which in her sight<br /> - Had given its all for these!<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap49"></a> - MOTLEY<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Come, Death, I'd have a word with thee;<br /> - And thou, poor Innocency;<br /> - And Love—a lad with broken wing;<br /> - And Pity, too:<br /> - The Fool shall sing to you,<br /> - As Fools will sing.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Ay, music hath small sense,<br /> - And a tune's soon told,<br /> - And Earth is old,<br /> - And my poor wits are dense;<br /> - Yet have I secrets,—dark, my dear,<br /> - To breathe you all: Come near.<br /> - And lest some hideous listener tells,<br /> - I'll ring my bells.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - They're all at war!—<br /> - Yes, yes, their bodies go<br /> - 'Neath burning sun and icy star<br /> - To chaunted songs of woe,<br /> - Dragging cold cannon through a mire<br /> - Of rain and blood and spouting fire,<br /> - The new moon glinting hard on eyes<br /> - Wide with insanities!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Hush! ... I use words<br /> - I hardly know the meaning of;<br /> - And the mute birds<br /> - Are glancing at Love<br /> - From out their shade of leaf and flower,<br /> - Trembling at treacheries<br /> - Which even in noonday cower.<br /> - Heed, heed not what I said<br /> - Of frenzied hosts of men,<br /> - More fools than I,<br /> - On envy, hatred fed,<br /> - Who kill, and die—<br /> - Spake I not plainly, then?<br /> - Yet Pity whispered, 'Why?'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Thou silly thing, off to thy daisies go.<br /> - Mine was not news for child to know,<br /> - And Death—no ears hath. He hath supped where creep<br /> - Eyeless worms in hush of sleep;<br /> - Yet, when he smiles, the hand he draws<br /> - Athwart his grinning jaws—<br /> - Faintly the thin bones rattle, and—There, there;<br /> - Hearken how my bells in the air<br /> - Drive away care!...<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Nay, but a dream I had<br /> - Of a world all mad.<br /> - Not simple happy mad like me,<br /> - Who am mad like an empty scene<br /> - Of water and willow tree,<br /> - Where the wind hath been;<br /> - But that foul Satan-mad,<br /> - Who rots in his own head,<br /> - And counts the dead,<br /> - Not honest one—and two—<br /> - But for the ghosts they were,<br /> - Brave, faithful, true,<br /> - When, head in air,<br /> - In Earth's clear green and blue<br /> - Heaven they did share<br /> - With beauty who bade them there....<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - There, now! Death goes—<br /> - Mayhap I 've wearied him.<br /> - Ay, and the light doth dim,<br /> - And asleep's the rose,<br /> - And tired Innocence<br /> - In dreams is hence....<br /> - Come, Love, my lad,<br /> - Nodding that drowsy head,<br /> - 'Tis time thy prayers were said!<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap53"></a> - THE MARIONETTES -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Let the foul Scene proceed:<br /> - There's laughter in the wings;<br /> - 'Tis sawdust that they bleed,<br /> - But a box Death brings.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - How rare a skill is theirs<br /> - These extreme pangs to show,<br /> - How real a frenzy wears<br /> - Each feigner of woe!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Gigantic dins uprise!<br /> - Even the gods must feel<br /> - A smarting of the eyes<br /> - As these fumes upsweal.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Strange, such a Piece is free,<br /> - While we Spectators sit,<br /> - Aghast at its agony,<br /> - Yet absorbed in it!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Dark is the outer air,<br /> - Coldly the night draughts blow,<br /> - Mutely we stare, and stare<br /> - At the frenzied Show.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Yet heaven hath its quiet shroud<br /> - Of deep, immutable blue—<br /> - We cry 'An end!' We are bowed<br /> - By the dread, ''Tis true!'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - While the Shape who hoofs applause<br /> - Behind our deafened ear,<br /> - Hoots—angel-wise—'the Cause!'<br /> - And affright ev'n fear.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap55"></a> - TO E. T.: 1917<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - You sleep too well—too far away,<br /> - For sorrowing word to soothe or wound;<br /> - Your very quiet seems to say<br /> - How longed-for a peace you have found.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Else, had not death so lured you on,<br /> - You would have grieved—'twixt joy and fear—<br /> - To know how my small loving son<br /> - Had wept for you, my dear.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap56"></a> - APRIL MOON<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Roses are sweet to smell and see,<br /> - And lilies on the stem;<br /> - But rarer, stranger buds there be,<br /> - And she was like to them.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - The little moon that April brings,<br /> - More lovely shade than light,<br /> - That, setting, silvers lonely hills<br /> - Upon the verge of night—<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Close to the world of my poor heart<br /> - So stole she, still and clear;<br /> - Now that she's gone, O dark, and dark,<br /> - The solitude—the fear.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap57"></a> - THE FOOL'S SONG<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Never, no never, listen too long,<br /> - To the chattering wind in the willows, the night<br /> - bird's song.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Tis sad in sooth to lie under the grass,<br /> - But none too gladsome to wake and grow cold<br /> - where life's shadows pass.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Dumb the old Toll-Woman squats,<br /> - And, for every green copper battered and worn,<br /> - doles out Nevers and Nots.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - I know a Blind Man, too,<br /> - Who with a sharp ear listens and listens the<br /> - whole world through.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Oh, sit we snug to our feast.<br /> - With platter and finger and spoon—and good<br /> - victuals at least.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap58"></a> - CLEAR EYES<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Clear eyes do dim at last,<br /> - And cheeks outlive their rose.<br /> - Time, heedless of the past,<br /> - No loving-kindness knows;<br /> - Chill unto mortal lip<br /> - Still Lethe flows.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Griefs, too, but brief while stay,<br /> - And sorrow, being o'er,<br /> - Its salt tears shed away,<br /> - Woundeth the heart no more.<br /> - Stealthily lave those waters<br /> - That solemn shore.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Ah, then, sweet face burn on,<br /> - While yet quick memory lives!<br /> - And Sorrow, ere thou art gone,<br /> - Know that my heart forgives—<br /> - Ere yet, grown cold in peace,<br /> - It loves not, nor grieves.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap59"></a> - DUST TO DUST<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Heavenly Archer, bend thy bow;<br /> - Now the flame of life burns low,<br /> - Youth is gone; I, too, would go.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Ever Fortune leads to this:<br /> - Harsh or kind, at last she is<br /> - Murderess of all ecstasies.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Yet the spirit, dark, alone,<br /> - Bound in sense, still hearkens on<br /> - For tidings of a bliss foregone.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Sleep is well for dreamless head,<br /> - At no breath astonished,<br /> - From the Gardens of the Dead.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - I the immortal harps hear ring,<br /> - By Babylon's river languishing.<br /> - Heavenly Archer, loose thy string.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap60"></a> - THE THREE STRANGERS -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Far are those tranquil hills,<br /> - Dyed with fair evening's rose;<br /> - On urgent, secret errand bent,<br /> - A traveller goes.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Approach him strangers three,<br /> - Barefooted, cowled; their eyes<br /> - Scan the lone, hastening solitary<br /> - With dumb surmise.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - One instant in close speech<br /> - With them he doth confer:<br /> - God-sped, he hasteneth on,<br /> - That anxious traveller...<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - I was that man—in a dream:<br /> - And each world's night in vain<br /> - I patient wait on sleep to unveil<br /> - Those vivid hills again.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Would that they three could know<br /> - How yet burns on in me<br /> - Love—from one lost in Paradise—<br /> - For their grave courtesy.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap62"></a> - ALEXANDER<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - It was the Great Alexander,<br /> - Capped with a golden helm,<br /> - Sate in the ages, in his floating ship,<br /> - In a dead calm.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Voices of sea-maids singing<br /> - Wandered across the deep:<br /> - The sailors labouring on their oars<br /> - Rowed, as in sleep.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - All the high pomp of Asia,<br /> - Charmed by that siren lay,<br /> - Out of their weary and dreaming minds,<br /> - Faded away.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Like a bold boy sate their Captain,<br /> - His glamour withered and gone,<br /> - In the souls of his brooding mariners,<br /> - While the song pined on.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Time, like a falling dew,<br /> - Life, like the scene of a dream,<br /> - Laid between slumber and slumber,<br /> - Only did seem....<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O Alexander, then,<br /> - In all us mortals too,<br /> - Wax thou not bold—too bold<br /> - On the wave dark-blue!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Come the calm, infinite night,<br /> - Who then will hear<br /> - Aught save the singing<br /> - Of the sea-maids clear?<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap64"></a> - THE REAWAKENING<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - Green in light are the hills, and a calm wind flowing<br /> - Filleth the void with a flood of the fragrance of Spring;<br /> - Wings in this mansion of life are coming and going,<br /> - Voices of unseen loveliness carol and sing.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Coloured with buds of delight the boughs are swaying,<br /> - Beauty walks in the woods, and wherever she rove<br /> - Flowers from wintry sleep, her enchantment obeying,<br /> - Stir in the deep of her dream, reawaken to love.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Oh, now begone sullen care—this light is my seeing;<br /> - I am the palace, and mine are its windows and walls;<br /> - Daybreak is come, and life from the darkness of being<br /> - Springs, like a child from the womb, when the lonely one calls.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap66"></a> - THE VACANT DAY<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - As I did walk in meadows green<br /> - I heard the summer noon resound<br /> - With call of myriad things unseen<br /> - That leapt and crept upon the ground.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - High overhead the windless air<br /> - Throbbed with the homesick coursing cry<br /> - Of swallows that did everywhere<br /> - Wake echo in the sky.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Beside me, too, clear waters coursed<br /> - Which willow branches, lapsing low,<br /> - Breaking their crystal gliding forced<br /> - To sing as they did flow.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - I listened; and my heart was dumb<br /> - With praise no language could express;<br /> - Longing in vain for him to come<br /> - Who had breathed such blessedness.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - On this fair world, wherein we pass<br /> - So chequered and so brief a stay;<br /> - And yearned in spirit to learn, alas,<br /> - What kept him still away.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap68"></a> - THE FLIGHT<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - How do the days press on, and lay<br /> - Their fallen locks at evening down,<br /> - Whileas the stars in darkness play<br /> - And moonbeams weave a crown—<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - A crown of flower-like light in heaven,<br /> - Where in the hollow arch of space<br /> - Morn's mistress dreams, and the Pleiads seven<br /> - Stand watch about her place.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Stand watch—O days no number keep<br /> - Of hours when this dark clay is blind.<br /> - When the world's clocks are dumb in sleep<br /> - 'Tis then I seek my kind.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap69"></a> - THE TWO HOUSES<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - In the strange city of Life<br /> - Two houses I know well:<br /> - One wherein Silence a garden hath,<br /> - And one where Dark doth dwell.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Roof unto roof they stand,<br /> - Shadowing the dizzied street,<br /> - Where Vanity flaunts her gilded booths<br /> - In the noontide glare and heat.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Green-graped upon their walls<br /> - An ancient hoary vine<br /> - Hath clustered their carven, lichenous stones<br /> - With tendril serpentine.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - And ever and anon,<br /> - Dazed in that clamorous throng,<br /> - I thirst for the soundless fount that stills<br /> - Those orchards mute of song.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Knock, knock, nor knock in vain:<br /> - Heart all thy secrets tell<br /> - Where Silence a fast-sealed garden hath,<br /> - Where Dark doth dwell.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap71"></a> - FOR ALL THE GRIEF -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - For all the grief I have given with words<br /> - May now a few clear flowers blow,<br /> - In the dust, and the heat, and the silence of birds,<br /> - Where the lonely go.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - For the thing unsaid that heart asked of me<br /> - Be a dark, cool water calling—calling<br /> - To the footsore, benighted, solitary,<br /> - When the shadows are falling.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - O, be beauty for all my blindness,<br /> - A moon in the air where the weary wend,<br /> - And dews burdened with loving-kindness<br /> - In the dark of the end.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap72"></a> - THE SCRIBE<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - What lovely things<br /> - Thy hand hath made:<br /> - The smooth-plumed bird<br /> - In its emerald shade,<br /> - The seed of the grass,<br /> - The speck of stone<br /> - Which the wayfaring ant<br /> - Stirs—and hastes on!<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Though I should sit<br /> - By some tarn in thy hills,<br /> - Using its ink<br /> - As the spirit wills<br /> - To write of Earth's wonders,<br /> - Its live, willed things,<br /> - Flit would the ages<br /> - On soundless wings<br /> - Ere unto Z<br /> - My pen drew nigh;<br /> - Leviathan told,<br /> - And the honey-fly:<br /> - And still would remain<br /> - My wit to try—<br /> - My worn reeds broken,<br /> - The dark tarn dry,<br /> - All words forgotten—<br /> - Thou, Lord, and I.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -<a id="chap74"></a> - FARE WELL<br /> -</h3> - -<p class="poem"> - When I lie where shades of darkness<br /> - Shall no more assail mine eyes,<br /> - Nor the rain make lamentation<br /> - When the wind sighs;<br /> - How will fare the world whose wonder<br /> - Was the very proof of me?<br /> - Memory fades, must the remembered<br /> - Perishing be?<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Oh, when this my dust surrenders<br /> - Hand, foot, lip, to dust again,<br /> - May these loved and loving faces<br /> - Please other men!<br /> - May the rusting harvest hedgerow<br /> - Still the Traveller's Joy entwine,<br /> - And as happy children gather<br /> - Posies once mine.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Look thy last on all things lovely,<br /> - Every hour. Let no night<br /> - Seal thy sense in deathly slumber<br /> - Till to delight<br /> - Thou have paid thy utmost blessing;<br /> - Since that all things thou wouldst praise<br /> - Beauty took from those who loved them<br /> - In other days.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty<br /> - at the Edinburgh University Press<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTLEY AND OTHER POEMS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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