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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75479 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+                    WILLOW’S FORGE AND OTHER POEMS
+
+
+
+
+                         _BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
+
+
+THE TRAMPING METHODIST
+
+ ‘We cannot too highly recommend this book. It is a remarkable first
+ attempt. It is quite without crudeness. The atmosphere of this novel
+ is sweet--it smells of summer and shines of the stars.’--_Daily
+ Chronicle._
+
+
+STARBRACE
+
+ ‘It is difficult not to be unduly enthusiastic over Miss Kaye-Smith’s
+ book.... This fine, tragic, poetic book is a welcome sign that the
+ spirits of Borrow and Stevenson are still in our midst.’--_Standard._
+
+
+SPELL LAND
+
+ ‘If I were to state exactly the position which I believe this author
+ will take among the great masters of English fiction, you might accuse
+ me of exaggeration.’--_Punch._
+
+                   Published by G. BELL & SONS LIMITED
+                   York House, Portugal Street, London
+
+
+ISLE OF THORNS
+
+ ‘We have found ourselves over and over again simply lost in
+ admiration.... No one should miss this book.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+                    Published by CONSTABLE & CO. LTD.
+                     10 Orange Street, London, W.C.
+
+
+
+
+                             WILLOW’S FORGE
+                            AND OTHER POEMS
+
+                                   BY
+                           SHEILA KAYE-SMITH
+
+
+                                 LONDON
+                           ERSKINE MACDONALD
+                                  1914
+
+
+
+
+                               CONTENTS
+
+
+BALLADS--
+                                                                    PAGE
+WILLOW’S FORGE                                                         7
+
+THE BALLAD OF A MOTOR BUS                                             10
+
+THE SONG OF JACOB BOEHME                                              14
+
+THE COUNSEL OF GILGAMESH                                              18
+
+THE BALLAD OF THE QUICK AND DEAD                                      20
+
+THE BALLAD OF DIVINE COMPASSION                                       23
+
+
+THE LAST GOSPEL--
+
+1. DEDICATION                                                         27
+
+2. LOVE CAST OUT                                                      28
+
+3. HOLY INNOCENTS                                                     30
+
+4. TO MY BODY--A THANKSGIVING                                         32
+
+5. FUNERAL MARCH OF A FALLEN HERO                                     34
+
+6. ‘I AM ALPHA AND OMEGA’                                             36
+
+
+CANT SONGS--
+
+THE SCAMPSMAN’S NIGHT                                                 38
+
+A DEUCED MORAL LAY                                                    39
+
+CAST FOR LAG                                                          40
+
+TO A COMRADE SPED                                                     41
+
+
+MISCELLANEOUS--
+
+BRIDE’S SONG                                                          43
+
+IMMORTALITY                                                           44
+
+THE OPTIMIST                                                          47
+
+RESURRECTION                                                          49
+
+A PRAYER                                                              51
+
+
+
+
+Willow’s Forge
+
+
+    I’ve crossed the fields from Lattenden
+      And haunted Honey Mill,
+    My feet and all my clothes are torn.
+      Yet on I stumble still--
+    I must not stay to speak to you
+      Or falter with my pain,
+    But hasten on to Willow’s Forge,
+      At the bottom of the lane.
+
+    Folk call me mad--perhaps ’tis true--
+      My life is full of fears,
+    At whiles I bite my arms, and then
+      I wash the blood with tears.
+    I scream, I talk to owls and crows,
+      Hear voices from the sky,
+    I see the spooks that ride o’ nights--
+      Men shudder when I’m nigh.
+
+    My love was hanged for stealing sheep,
+      ’Twas that which sent me mad--
+    He was a liar and a thief,
+      But O I loved my lad!
+    I’ve wandered wildly ever since,
+      And last night, ’neath the Wain,
+    I saw my love at Willow’s Forge,
+      At the bottom of the lane.
+
+    His face was wan, his burning eye
+      Was like a coal from hell
+    (He’s with the damned souls, all folk say,
+      But O I love him well!)
+    His hands were misty as the moon
+      That bathed his awful brow,
+    His lips and breast were smeared with blood,
+      His cheeks were white as snow.
+
+    ‘O tell me, love, where have you been
+      This weary sleepless while?
+    I’ve screamed and wept to kiss your lips,
+      I’ve hungered for your smile.
+    Have you been down among the damned,
+      Where, like the sheep in fold,
+    The dead men lie, and bleat and cry
+      And shiver in the cold?
+
+    ‘Have you been up to where the clouds
+      Are sailing in the blue,
+    And have they thrown you down, and said
+      ’Twas no fit place for you?
+    Or have you roamed all Sussex through
+      In weariness and pain,
+    To meet me here at Willow’s Forge,
+      At the bottom of the lane?’
+
+    He nothing said at all, but stared
+      With glazed and dreadful eye,
+    His red lips shook, as if he strove
+      To part them with a cry.
+    He could not speak, and O I thought
+      He’d shiver from my sight,
+    And leave me lone at Willow’s Forge,
+      In the terror of the night.
+
+    ‘O kiss me lad, before you go!’
+      I cried, and raised my head.
+    He stooped his scarlet lips to me,
+      The living kissed the dead.
+    But O his mouth was all on fire,
+      And burned my cheek and hair,
+    I screamed aloud, and he had gone,
+      And left me waiting there.
+
+    I told my mother what had passed,
+      She shuddered at my tale--
+    ‘You’ve seen the moonlight through the trees
+      That shiver in the gale;
+    And as for your burnt cheek, my girl,
+      Which makes you sob with pain,
+    You’ve kissed the fire at Willow’s Forge,
+      At the bottom of the lane.’
+
+    But though she speak, and though I hear,
+      I will not aught believe
+    But that at last I’ve met and kissed
+      The lad for whom I grieve.
+    And if I haunt the meeting spot,
+      I’ll see him there again--
+    That’s why I haste to Willow’s Forge,
+      At the bottom of the lane.
+
+
+
+
+The Ballad of a Motor ’Bus
+
+
+    You get in at Ludgate Circus,
+      Where in regiments they stand,
+    All throbbing underneath the bridge,
+      And pointing to the Strand--
+    All pageantry with colours,
+      All poetry with words,
+    Wait those blazoned motor-’buses
+      In their fiercely panting herds.
+
+    There are ’buses for the East,
+      There are ’buses for the West,
+    For North and South and Central
+      And where heaven pleases best--
+    For the Elephant and Castle,
+      Gospel Oak and Parson’s Green,
+    Some for Chelsea, some for Putney,
+      Some for Barnes, and some for Sheen.
+
+    There are some that cross the river,
+      And they see the steamers crawl
+    With dirty belching smoke-stacks
+      To the Pool or London Wall--
+    They rumble down the dingy streets
+      Where dingy houses grow
+    Like quickly sprouting toadstools
+      In an evil yellow row.
+
+    And some go plunging northward
+      Up the hills to Kensal Rise,
+    And some are bound for Hampstead
+      And the smokeless windy skies,
+    And some go east to Hackney,
+      And the long Commercial Road,
+    Past the buying and the selling,
+      To poverty’s abode.
+
+    But the ’bus I take goes westward--
+      It leaves Charing Cross behind,
+    Then it bounds up Piccadilly,
+      Through the smokey dusty wind--
+    The first lamps have been lighted,
+      And across St James’s Park
+    The early lights of Westminster
+      Are splashing on the dark.
+
+    The dusk is falling gently,
+      And from the streets below
+    The London glare climbs upward
+      To make the sad skies glow--
+    Through the mingled dusk and dazzle
+      We hum swiftly on our way,
+    While the wind brings to our faces
+      The first damps of the day.
+
+    It is Summer, it is evening,
+      Early stars are in the sky,
+    Shining dim above the smoke-wreaths,
+      While the western bonfires die--
+    And the wind sings of the river
+      That beyond the city flows,
+    Of the pleasant westward reaches
+      That no cargo-tramper knows.
+
+    So we spin through holy Brompton,
+      We leave Kensington behind,
+    We thunder down to Fulham,
+      Past churches tall and blind--
+    Till we come at last to Putney,
+      And the starlit river gleams
+    Through darkness up to Richmond,
+      A thoroughfare of dreams.
+
+    And it’s there that you are waiting,
+      O my faithful love, for me!
+    Through the dark your eyes are straining
+      My chariot to see--
+    For the working-day is over,
+      All its dust and hurry past,
+    And we go to the river,
+      With my hand in yours at last.
+
+    While the motor-’bus rolls onward--
+      And we stop to watch it tear
+    All burning through the twilight,
+      Mysterious and fair.
+    It was our love’s bright chariot,
+      The torch of our desires,
+    Kindling the London darkness
+      With youth’s eternal fires.
+
+    O youth!--O youth in London!
+      Shall they ever be forgot,
+    Those young and eager footsteps
+      On pavements hard and hot?
+    The dust is in the breezes,
+      Stinks of petrol stain the air,
+    But youth has come to London,
+      And has found a garden there.
+
+
+
+
+The Song of Jacob Boehme
+
+
+    The wild fowl hath not seen it,
+      No vulture flown so high,
+    The lion’s whelp hath not trodden,
+      Nor the fierce lion passed by,
+    The crags and the abysses
+      Of that most lonely way,
+    Which windeth in the mountains,
+      And leadeth to the May.
+
+    The chymist labours nightly,
+      No travail will he shirk,
+    If he can hope to finish
+      The Philosophic Work.
+    Mercury, salt, and sulphur,
+      In Athanor are they,
+    But through their transmutation
+      He cannot find the May.
+
+    And I am but a cobbler,
+      At work from morn till night,
+    A poor and silly groundling
+      Who scarce can read or write;
+    With cares of trade and household
+      I struggle all the day,
+    But I have trod the mountains,
+      And I have found the May.
+
+    --The May of glancing sunshine,
+      The May of glowing flowers,
+    Of singing birds, and breezes,
+      And swift leaf-scented showers.
+    No more I fear the Turba,
+      For I have seen God play
+    Among the dews and lilies
+      Of the Eternal May.
+
+    O I have found the spring-time
+      Of green sun-spotted shade!
+    O I have found the garden
+      Where roses never fade!
+    O I have learned the secrets
+      And signs of all the sky,
+    And wrought the Magnum Opus
+      Of holy Alchemy!
+
+    The salt Impress of Saturn
+      Is mine, and Luna’s Form,
+    And Mercury’s sharp Flagrat,
+      And Mars’ most ruddy storm,
+    Mine is the young child Venus,
+      Mine Jupiter’s pure might,
+    I haunt the sacred Houses,
+      I read the dooms of night.
+
+    The magical Triangles
+      Have shown me what they hold
+    Of light and corporiety,
+      Of bitterness and gold,
+    I saw God in the garden,
+      I saw Him on the Tree,
+    Dying to bring back Adam
+      Into the Liberty.
+
+    Men laugh, and call me crazy,
+      The pastor saith I’ve sought
+    To overturn the doctrines
+      That Martin Luther taught.
+    My books he burnt, with curses,
+      And I have heard him tell
+    Good Christians to avoid me
+      As they would flee from hell.
+
+    The astrologers all mock me,
+      The learned chymists cry,
+    ‘What hath this child to tell us
+      About our Alchemy?’
+    I have felt drought and hunger,
+      Met lions in the way,
+    Been wounded in friends’ houses,
+      But I have found the May.
+
+    --The May of glancing sunshine,
+      The May of glowing flowers,
+    Of singing-birds, and breezes,
+      And swift leaf-scented showers.
+    No more I fear the Turba,
+      For I have seen God play
+    Among the dews and lilies
+      Of the Eternal May.
+
+    O hearken then, thou Magus,
+      And let thy love be sure,
+    Give worship to the Artist,
+      And keep his pattern pure,
+    O labour in the lubet!
+      And I shall humbly pray
+    That thou become a Champion,
+      And find at last the May.
+
+    The magical Triangles
+      Shall both at last be one,
+    Adam return to Paradise,
+      The Mighty Work be done;
+    Then the meek holy servants
+      Shall see their God at play--
+    O haste the time, great Master,
+      When all men find the May!
+
+
+
+
+The Counsel of Gilgamesh
+
+    ‘Gilgamesh, why dost thou wander around?
+    Life, which thou seekest, thou canst not find.’
+
+    _Epic of Gilgamesh._
+
+
+    Why wander round, Gilgamesh?
+      The sun that set to-night
+    Shall climb the sky to-morrow,
+      And bake the world with light.
+    Throughout undying ages
+      The sun shall set and rise
+    As it hath set and risen
+      From dim eternities.
+
+    Why wander round, Gilgamesh?
+      Why vainly wander round?
+    What canst thou find, O seeker,
+      Which hath not long been found?
+    What canst thou know, O scholar,
+      Which hath not long been known?
+    What canst thou have, O spoiler,
+      Which dead men did not own?
+
+    The camel of the desert,
+      The wild ape of the wood,
+    Tread the white bones of heroes
+      Who in thy place once stood;
+    Like thee, they felt the sunshine,
+      Like thee, they loved the day,
+    Like thee, they sought and suffered--
+      And thou shalt be as they.
+
+    And other men, Gilgamesh,
+      Shall seek what thou dost seek,
+    And to their youth and ardour
+      Thy rotting bones will speak.
+    They will not heed thy counsel,
+      They too will wander round,
+    And waste their years in seeking
+      That which hath long been found.
+
+    Why wander round, Gilgamesh?
+      Why vainly wander round?
+    What canst thou find, O seeker,
+      Which hath not long been found?
+    What canst thou know, O scholar,
+      Which dead men did not know?
+
+    And this was asked in Nineveh
+      Thousands of years ago.
+
+
+
+
+The Ballad of the Quick and Dead
+
+
+    And every night I sit alone,
+      And every night I see
+    A little cotton-aproned ghost
+      Who takes no heed of me.
+
+    She sets the milk, she sets the bread,
+    One scarce would know that she was dead--
+      But long ago death gave her greeting,
+    In the great bed whence one can see
+    The sunset in the cherry tree,
+      And hear the fold-bound wethers bleating.
+
+    In a far country lives the man
+      Who loved this little maid,
+    He knows not, cares not, that each night
+      His supper here is laid.
+
+    She lays it as in twilights gone,
+    When, all the farmstead labour done,
+      His passion in her arms would take
+    Its daylong waited recompense--
+    And her lost peace and innocence
+      She gave ungrudging for his sake.
+
+    She lived for love, she died for love,
+      Though love was agony,
+    And here, where joy was sold for love,
+      She loves eternally.
+
+    He does not care--he wanders far,
+    Where light and wine and pleasure are;
+      He strives and battles to forget
+    The little cottage dove he caught,
+    Who gave so much and asked for naught,
+      And haunts the crumbling farmhouse yet.
+
+    O Lord, how happy I should be,
+      If one my heart holds dear
+    Would come and spread the board for me,
+      As she who rambles here!
+
+    I should not wander far away,
+    Or struggle to forget the day
+      I loved, but to her straight would speed,
+    And pledge the cup and break the bread
+    With one who has been ten years dead--
+      Ah, that were heaven indeed!
+
+    It may not be--no dreams of me
+      Disturb her quiet sleep;
+    She little knows that dreams of her
+      Wake me each night to weep.
+
+    I never mocked her confidence,
+      Or robbed her of her innocence,
+    But with both hands I gave her all
+      I had to give--she did not see
+    My love, she never thinks of me,
+      She comes not when I call.
+
+    So every night I sit alone,
+      And every night I see
+    A little cotton-aproned ghost
+      Who takes no heed of me.
+
+    This is the tragedy of love,
+      By all men be it read,
+    ’Tis thus the dead dream of the quick,
+      The quick dream of the dead.
+
+    This is the mockery of love,
+      By all men be it read,
+    ’Tis thus the dead forget the quick,
+      The quick forget the dead.
+
+
+
+
+The Ballad of Divine Compassion
+
+
+    The halls of heaven were full of joy,
+        The quivering air was blue
+    With incense, and with candles gay
+    The mansions of eternal day
+        Were gleaming through and through.
+
+    The Saints in Glory danced and sang
+        In robes of glittering white--
+    Till heaven with their music rang,
+    The Saints in Glory danced and sang,
+        And filled themselves with light.
+
+    Through groves of trees and lawns of flowers
+        They trod the mystic maze
+    Of many a sacred rigadoon,
+    Danced to a fiddling angel’s tune,
+        With endless roundelays.
+
+    One only walked apart and sighed,
+        In all that blissful horde,
+    Shrank from the revel, and alone
+    Poured from an aching heart his moan,
+        And He was Christ the Lord.
+
+    He leaned across the fiery gate
+        Which stands above the stars,
+    And from the fields where angels dwell
+    Shuts the red cemeteries of hell
+        With seven burning bars.
+
+    He leaned above the direful deep
+        Where tortured spirits lie,
+    He saw their helpless agonies,
+    He saw their wild and weeping eyes
+        Turned up towards the sky.
+
+    And all the sorrows of His heart
+        Were grinding in His breast,
+    He longed to comfort those poor sheep,
+    To give them drink, and let them sleep
+        On the green hills of rest.
+
+    Nought were to Him the heavenly fields,
+        The flocks His blood had bought,
+    He thought alone of His lost sheep,
+    Of those who toss, and starve, and weep,
+        Whom He had vainly sought.
+
+    And as the Saviour watched them there
+        In all their sweat and fear,
+    His love and longing rose so high,
+    That from His tender, pitying eye
+        There fell a holy Tear.
+
+    The tear rolled down, until it dropped
+        Into the blackest hell,
+    And straight there were strange things to see
+    Within that pit of misery
+        Where the pure token fell.
+
+    The Tear became a mighty sea,
+        Which raged, and roared, and rolled,
+    And filled each black and gaping gorge,
+    And quenched each red and belching forge,
+        And wrecked each towering hold.
+
+    And all the lost and sinning souls
+        Were borne upon its waves--
+    By that one Tear the Saviour wept
+    The doomed of ages all were swept
+        Out of their living graves.
+
+    And, carried on the heaving tide,
+        The lost souls rose to heaven,
+    Tumbling and drowning, hand in hand,
+    They reached the coolness of that land
+        Where all things are forgiven.
+
+    Women, and men, and children too,
+        All blasted, scorched, and red,
+    Were washed up to the Saviour’s feet,
+    By that one Tear of pity sweet
+        His loving eye had shed.
+
+    The Saints in Glory danced and sang,
+        They sang and danced so high
+    They saw not that their Lord was gone,
+    Or that His white and fiery throne
+        Stood empty in the sky.
+
+    They saw Him not as He stooped down
+        To lift each cowering slave,
+    They saw Him not, so great their bliss,
+    On each scarred forehead lay His kiss,
+        As sign that He forgave.
+
+    He could not take those guilty ones
+        To where the guiltless throng
+    Pealed forth their own salvation’s praise,
+    And through the everlasting days
+        Shouted their triumph song.
+
+    He led them to the wilderness,
+        Where stood the Holy Cross,
+    And from the timber of that Tree
+    He built a house of welcome, free
+        To those lame sons of loss.
+
+    The Saints in Glory feasted on
+        The honey-dews of heaven,
+    So all those sinners had for food
+    Was their Lord’s body and His blood,
+        To their great hunger given.
+
+    The Saints in Glory danced and sang,
+        Nor missed Him from their sport,
+    And so He made His dwelling-place
+    With the poor pensioners of grace
+        His pardoning love had bought.
+
+    And never to the halls of bliss
+        He lifts a longing eye,
+    The poor souls never hear Him groan,
+    Or sigh because His great white throne
+        Stands empty in the sky.
+
+    He leads them through the wilderness,
+        He makes their faces wet
+    With water from a desert steam,
+    The black past as an evil dream
+        He helps them to forget.
+
+    He is the comforter of those
+        Whom stormy seas have tossed,
+    He dries the eyes of those that weep,
+    He is the shepherd of lame sheep,
+        The Saviour of the Lost.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST GOSPEL
+
+
+1. Dedication
+
+          When Mass is said,
+          The music dead,
+    And the last lights upon the Altar-throne
+    Drop slowly one by one into the dark,
+          To the east
+          Turns the Priest,
+    And bows his knee before the sacred Ark
+    And whispers the Last Gospel through--alone.
+
+          So do I
+          When dreams die,
+    And love’s last wretched candle-lights are seen
+    Darkening upon the Altar of your heart,
+          Face the east,
+          And like the Priest
+    Say my Last Gospel through ere I depart,
+    And before leaving bow to What Has Been.
+
+
+
+
+2. Love Cast Out
+
+
+    A victim crowned am I,
+      Crowned, piercèd, and adored,
+    In my eyes a flame of fire,
+      In my heart a sword.
+
+    Christ is my brother dear,
+      Sister to Christ am I,
+    For He has felt the thirsty wound
+      That I must perish by.
+
+    He came a king uncrowned,
+      Unrobed, the Son of Loss,
+    And so they pierced His body through,
+      And hung Him on the cross.
+
+    And my love wore no robe,
+      And my love wore no crown,
+    My love a pilgrim was, and trod
+      The roads in pilgrim’s brown.
+
+    And since my love went thus,
+      A stranger and a dove,
+    You built a cruel wooden cross,
+      And crucified my love.
+
+    And now you bend the knee
+      --As now we Christ adore--
+    And set your bleeding sacrifice
+    At God’s right hand above the skies,
+      To worship evermore.
+
+    The third day, from the dead
+      The Saviour rose again,
+    He put on robes of royalty,
+      And sat Him down to reign.
+
+    But my love shall not rise,
+      My love shall rest and sleep,
+    My love is tired, why should it wake,
+      That your eyes may not weep?
+
+    For Christ the Saviour has
+      A gentler heart than mine,
+    He lets you crown what you did kill,
+    Of His torn body eat your fill,
+      And make His blood your wine.
+
+    You shall not use me so--
+      Go far, the world is wide;
+    Why should you wake from its poor rest
+      The heart you crucified?
+
+    Beneath the tender ground
+      My love shall sleep for aye,
+    No last trump for my love shall sound
+      No resurrection day.
+
+    A victim crowned am I,
+      Crowned, piercéd, and adored,
+    In my eyes a flame of fire,
+      In my heart a sword.
+
+
+
+
+3. Holy Innocents
+
+
+    To-day I keep a feast, with red and white--
+      The red blood and the snow-white innocence
+      Of little souls who had their recompense
+    Before they learned the horrors of the fight.
+
+    I see them running in their gardens gay,
+      They snatch the colours of the rainbow’s flame,
+      And throw the stars about in childish game,
+    And pull the clouds to pieces for their play.
+
+    But these are not the throng the king did slay,
+      The babes for whom dark Rachael’s head is bowed--
+      ’Tis not for them her wailing rings so loud;
+    Other and holier Innocents are they.
+
+    These are the little ones who never wrought
+      Love’s royalest wonder in a mother’s eyes,
+      Who never brought a tender warm surprise
+    With groping lips to breasts till then unsought.
+
+    These are the fruit of hundredfold desires,
+      Ten thousand dreams begot this laughing band,
+      They fill the cities of a promised land--
+    Long promised, but not given--lost in fires.
+
+    These are the children I had hoped to show
+      The secret of this life, and all its love--
+      But they are playing with my dreams above,
+    While I plunge on through my dead hopes below.
+
+    Saved--Oh perhaps from much that I must brave--
+      I worship you, sweet saints!--oh pray for me!
+      The little children that shall never be--
+    The little children I shall never have.
+
+
+
+
+4. To My Body--A Thanksgiving
+
+
+    Though thou hast set me many a snare,
+      And cost me many a groan,
+    And causéd feet to slip that were
+      Far dearer than my own--
+    Though thou hast been both sword and gin
+      To others and to me,
+    Yet I recall what thou didst win
+      Once for my soul, and I give thanks to thee.
+
+    For once, when all my heavens fell,
+      And each hour that went by
+    Brought nearer to the pit of hell
+      The Dayspring which is I--
+    When all unheard the highest cried,
+      When lost were course and goal,
+    When hope had fled and faith had died--
+      Thou, even thou, didst then redeem my soul.
+
+    Thou broughtest me unto the snow,
+      And thou didst force through me
+    The pumping blood, that I might know
+      How fierce my flesh could be;
+    My flesh--till then half love, half dread--
+      Became an armoured tower,
+    To which my wounded spirit fled,
+      And found a refuge in its bitter hour.
+
+    Thou didst deny the healing sleep
+      Unless I strove all day
+    With thews and muscles, fierce to keep
+      The wolves of thought at bay;
+    And thou didst crown thyself with strength,
+      And lift thyself on high,
+    And free salvation win at length
+      For the poor soul that thought it was to die.
+
+    Redemption thou didst work for me,
+      And forth into the light
+    Crept my healed spirit, saved by thee
+      From all the hells of night--
+    And this I never shall forget,
+      And so I can forgive
+    Thy treacheries, and thank thee yet,
+      For ’tis through thee I have found grace to live.
+
+    And more, for I know that some day
+      A greater wonder thou
+    Shalt work for me, when thou shalt slay
+      What thou hast quickened now.
+    As once thy life did make me whole,
+      So once thy death shall reap
+    Both for thyself and for my soul
+      The last redemption of a long, long sleep.
+
+
+
+
+5. Funeral March of a Fallen Hero
+
+
+    Sound the trumpet, beat the drum,
+      Lay the purple on his breast,
+    Let my shuddering memories come
+      To salute him in his rest,
+    To bow down to his disgrace,
+    While I cover up his face.
+
+    Once he led my soul to war,
+      And the thunder of his cry
+    Went before me, fierce and far,
+      Calling me to triumph or die;
+    To his sword I owe my place,
+      But I cover up his face.
+
+    Scornfully he mocked my fears,
+      ‘Raise the banner!--up and fight!
+    Follow me through blood and tears!’
+      From the darkness into light,
+    After him, I strove apace,
+    Now I cover up his face.
+
+    In his eyes I dare not gaze,
+      Lest I should see mirrored there
+    All the white and hungry blaze
+      Of my own eyes’ hot despair,
+    All my shame for his disgrace--
+    So I cover up his face.
+
+    In my heart he lies in state,
+      Purple sorrow is his pall,
+    Trumps of doom and drums of fate
+      Sound the dead-march of his fall--
+    On his livid brows a crown
+    Of withered bays and laurels brown.
+
+    At his head tall candles burn,
+      They are hopes that slowly die,
+    At his feet the brazen urn
+      Where my love’s best ashes lie,
+    At his side the broken sword
+    Of his own most solemn word.
+
+    Fallen hero, I would bring
+      Dreams to deck thine obsequies,
+    Lay them as an offering
+      On thy heart, where sorrow lies,
+    But ’twould spoil thy stately bed,
+    For, like thee, my dreams are dead.
+
+    Sound the trumpet, beat the drum,
+      Lay the purple on his breast,
+    Bow before his shame, and come
+      To perform each last behest,
+    Give him royal resting-place--
+    But, O cover up his face!
+
+
+
+
+6. ‘I Am Alpha and Omega....’
+
+
+    And dost Thou bless the end? O Lord of Life
+      And the Beginning, Lord of the New Birth,
+      Lord of the dancing April days of earth!
+    When the sour chills of Autumn winds are rife,
+    And Summer faints and withers in the strife
+      Of tempests and the strangling grips of dearth,
+                  Dost Thou still bless the End?
+
+    O Lord of the world’s morning!--Thou canst bless,
+      Birth-pangs and travail--Thou hast hallowed all--
+      But canst Thou bless the turning to the wall
+    Of dying eyes? the panting slow distress
+    Of those who fear the clutch of Nothingness?
+      When into death’s cold deeps Thy servants fall,
+                  Dost Thou still bless the End?
+
+    And canst Thou bless the hour when love is dead?
+      Thou seek’st the harmonies of new-strung lyres,
+      Thou art the guardian of new-kindled fires,
+    But when the last of love’s poor life is fled,
+    His ashes to the four winds scatterèd,
+      And my charred soul crept bleeding from the pyres,
+                  Dost Thou still bless the End?
+
+    Yea, Thou dost bless the End--For Thou hast sworn
+      That Thou, Eternal, art the First and Last,
+      Lord of the Future, Thine too is the past,
+    Thine is the night, O high priest of the dawn!
+    Alpha and Omega! both love new-born
+      And love long dead are in Thy hands kept fast,
+                  Yea, Thou dost bless the End.
+
+    Thine are the shadows of the dropping night,
+      Thine are the wastes of lonely moonless seas,
+      The wilted leaves of tossing Autumn trees,
+    Thine the faint cries, the slowly drowning sight
+    Of those who in the gulfs of darkness fight--
+      And dead love sleeps upon Thy mighty knees
+                  Ever world without end.
+
+
+
+
+CANT SONGS
+
+
+
+
+The Scampsman’s Night
+
+
+    Mists on the marsh are gathering thick,
+      The shuddering woods are dim,
+      My barker’s muzzle looks grim,
+    Of boozing and delling and such I’m sick.
+
+    Saddle my mare--my Marjorie--
+      For Oliver’s glim is bright,
+      And this is a snaffling night--
+    Ho, my girl, for the nuttiest spree!
+
+    We’ll make his Lordship tip us the bit,
+      We’ll knuckle his mort’s fawnie,
+      And a kiss, for we’re gay dogs, we,
+    And love to fool with a comely chit.
+
+    At morning’s dawn we will ride to our ken,
+      And tipple, and count our swag,
+      And of our flash spices brag,
+    And rest the bodies of mares and men.
+
+
+
+
+A Deuced Moral Lay
+
+
+    Oh lads that are quier on the rum-padding lay,
+    That saddle your prancers at waning of day,
+      That ride to the tavern at dawning,
+      Take warning,
+    For a dell with a scampsman the dickens ’ull play.
+
+    In gaol a full dozen of rum-pads are lying,
+    And for Dolly and Molly and Polly are sighing,
+      But those very same troublesome fair
+      Sent ’em there,
+    And they’ll all curse their morts when it comes to the dying.
+
+    Let the gemman who wants to bing wide of the crap
+    Beware of his dell, for she’s certain to rap--
+      There I’ve tipped you a deuced moral lay,
+      So good day,
+    I’m off to lie soft in my Barbara’s lap.
+
+
+
+
+Cast for Lag
+
+
+    On the Pamunkey’s pine-fringed shore--
+    Lord! how drear is the torrent’s roar!
+    Sits the gentleman rum-pad, slave,
+    Watching the leap of the restless wave,
+                And sighing for his Jenny.
+
+    Cast for lag was this scampsman bold,
+    Flung in a slaver’s stinking hold,
+    Kicked and flogged like a vagrant cur--
+    That was hard on a gentleman, Sir,
+                Who sighed for pretty Jenny.
+
+    Bought by a planter and driven away
+    Many a mile on a sweltering day,
+    Lashed to a negro, foul and black,
+    Each time I stumbled the whip on my back,
+                Lord! how I sighed for Jenny.
+
+    Set to work in the sugar canes,
+    Hunger, thirst, and the sun’s hot pains,
+    Bed at night with a filthy crew,
+    Tumble and toss and sweat and stew,
+                And wretched dreams of Jenny.
+
+    Thus the miserable days go by,
+    Grinding toil ’neath a torrid sky,
+    Pain and hate, thirst and hunger wild,
+    Tears at night like a beaten child--
+                Pray for me, pretty Jenny!
+
+
+
+
+To a Comrade Sped
+
+
+    Oh you fool, you! Who’d have thought it!
+      Dangling like a dog on string.
+    That poor spice, you’ve dearly bought it--
+      Lad, how does it feel to swing?
+
+    Did you kick when the hemp choked you,
+      And your heels danced in the air,
+    And the sweat of dying soaked you,
+      Struggling on the three-legged mare?
+
+    Swear you did! Your grin, my Billy,
+      Is not what it ought to be,
+    Thus to show your teeth is silly,
+      And not over good to see.
+
+    Dolly wouldn’t kiss that cheek, Sir,
+      With the veins swelled out so black,
+    Pretty Bab would squirm and shriek, Sir,
+      At the scars upon your back--
+
+    Which you had in gaol, my beauty,
+      Ere you gambolled on the crap,
+    Lud! the Sheriff did his duty,
+      Ordered you both rope and strap.
+
+    For you held the roads a-trembling,
+      Billy with the face so black;
+    Ah, I hear you--‘No dissembling!
+      Tip the steven--don’t be slack!’
+
+    Blowens screamed, and gemmen cursed you,
+      But you caved ’em with your pop,
+    Now, alas! the hemp has burst you,
+      Ere you reaped your nutty crop.
+
+    Oh you fool, you! Who’d have thought it!
+      Bowled out, trussed up, stark, and dead.
+    Ruffler crack, Egad! you’ve caught it,
+      Caught it fairly on the head.
+
+
+
+
+MISCELLANEOUS
+
+
+
+
+Bride’s Song
+
+
+    It was not always thus I loved,
+      Once, long ago, another love was mine,
+    A love that through the constellations moved
+      On fiery way divine--
+    It was not always thus I loved.
+                But can a bird for ever fly?
+                Too rare, too lofty, is the sky,
+                The poor bird folds his tired wings,
+                And in the tree-top sings,
+                And tries
+                To forget the skies.
+
+    It was not always thus I dreamed,
+      Once, long ago, I walked in Paradise,
+    And through the coolness of the garden gleamed
+      An angel’s beckoning eyes--
+    It was not always thus I dreamed.
+                But can the sun be ever bright?
+                He faints before the sword of night,
+                And back into the house we hie,
+                And with a candle try,
+                When day’s done,
+                To forget the sun.
+
+    I went into the sunset, and I heard
+    Among the trees the faint note of a bird.
+
+
+
+
+Immortality
+
+
+    One star upon the desert of the sky,
+      One song upon the silences of night,
+      Upon the tossing of the stream, one light,
+    One moment in a blank eternity.
+
+    For, O my love, eternity is drear,
+      And soon we both shall weary of it so,
+    That we shall turn and hide ourselves for fear
+      In that sweet hour God gave us long ago.
+
+    We cannot wander from it very far,
+      For down the long wild ways, it calls us home,
+    Red through the evening like a fallen star,
+      A dim undying hearth for loves that roam.
+
+    I feel were I to meet you I might not
+      Even know you in the street, nor you know me--
+      You might look back and whisper, ‘Who is she?’
+    And I might sigh at something half forgot.
+
+    But in our Moment I can kiss your face,
+      Smiling and strong--unchanged by all the years;
+    And I can hold you there a little space,
+      And you hold me--unchanged by all my tears.
+
+    And I can whisper to you of that night
+      When our dark boat made moon-swept waters hiss.
+      Your face was wet with spray, spray-wet your kiss,
+    Your eyes were stars that I had set alight.
+
+    Dim planets hung above the trembling trees,
+      The suck of water shook the misty air,
+      The darkness showed you magic in my hair,
+    The darkness showed you rest upon my knees.
+
+    We saw two wandering stars fall through the sky--
+      ’Twas you and I, lost in the chilly haze,
+      Apart, adrift, forsaken, but ablaze
+    With one short hour’s eternal ecstacy.
+
+    And into our poor love of rags and tears
+      The fire of life and deathless love rushed down,
+    Rushed the great love of this world’s million years,
+      Gave us the kingdom, set on us the crown--
+
+    Gave us all love of lovers since the morn
+      Of love in the dim daybreak of the earth,
+      Gave us all harmonies since music’s birth,
+    Gave us all colours since the first red dawn--
+
+    Gave us the Springtime with its changing tunes,
+    Gave us the mysteries of many Junes,
+    Gave us the stars, gave us the trackless sea,
+    Gave us each other to eternity.
+
+    Love may be gone, as you are gone, my dear,
+      But our almighty moment cannot die--
+    It shall stand fast when the last crumbling sphere
+      Shall crash out of the ruin of the sky.
+
+    When the last constellations faint and fall,
+      When the last planets burst in fiery foam,
+    When all the winds have sunk asleep, when all
+      The worn way-weary comets have come home--
+
+    When past and present and the future flee,
+      My moment lives! and I shall hold you there.
+    It lives to be my immortality,
+      An immortality which you shall share.
+
+    One star upon the desert of the sky,
+      One song upon the silences of night,
+      Upon the tossing of the stream, one light,
+    One moment in a blank eternity.
+
+
+
+
+The Optimist
+
+
+    The earth is green, the earth is wide,
+      And when its widest bound is past,
+    There are the stars on every side,
+      For soaring souls to win at last--
+    There is no bound for those that fly,
+    Floorless and roofless is the sky,
+      Hope knows no hindrance but clipped wings,
+    So, throughout all life’s little while,
+    My heart is happy, and I smile,
+                  In spite of many things,
+    In spite of pain,
+      In spite of fears,
+        In spite of want,
+          In spite of tears
+            --In spite of you.
+
+    Mine is the future, and the past,
+      The growing and the dying gleam,
+    Mine is ambition till the last,
+      And there are dreams for me to dream.
+    Mine is the sagging Winter day,
+    Mine too the softness of the May,
+      The lusty strength of bread and wine,
+    The valiant dawn, the pondering night,
+    The flowering change from dark to light,
+                  All holy things are mine,
+    In spite of pain,
+      In spite of fears,
+        In spite of want,
+          In spite of tears
+            --In spite of you.
+
+    Adventure weaves the shining dress
+      Experience at last shall wear,
+    Grief, rapture, triumph, bitterness
+      Combine to trace the pattern there.
+    All sorrow that my soul assails
+    Helps to embroider golden veils
+      To deck me in the glorious day
+    When I shall reign in endless rest,
+    So strength and laughter fill my breast,
+                  And on my heartstrings play,
+    In spite of pain,
+      In spite of fears,
+        In spite of want,
+          In spite of tears
+              --In spite of you.
+
+
+
+
+Resurrection
+
+
+    By the grave I watch and weep,
+      Watch and weep in anxious pain,
+    Watch my Love’s exhausted sleep,
+      Weep lest he should wake again--
+    With heart and mind and soul I dread
+    The resurrection of the dead.
+
+    Is it a hard law of Thine
+      That no third day’s dawn shall break
+    Without bringing life divine
+      To the dead? O for the sake
+    Of all Thy thorns and lilies won,
+    Let my weary one sleep on!
+
+    Rough was life for my poor love,
+      Fierce the whirlwind, wild the wave,
+    It was mercy from above
+      That he found this quiet grave,
+    And there laid him down to rest,
+    In the earth’s consoling breast.
+
+    He is desperate for sleep.
+      He would never choose to wake,
+    And I watch by him and weep,
+      Trembling lest the light should break
+    In the merciful dark skies,
+    And torment his heavy eyes.
+
+    Though I know that Christ the Lord
+      On the third day rose again,
+    And I fear it is His word
+      That the crucified should reign,
+    Yet to Him I humbly pray
+    That my love shall sleep for aye.
+
+    For he never was a king,
+      Never sat upon a throne,
+    He was just a trodden thing,
+      Stumbling in the dark alone.
+    Let him rest--Eternal bliss?--
+    He is far too tired for this.
+
+    Life is for the gods and great,
+      Resurrection for the strong,
+    Joy for those of high estate,
+      Slaves would rather slumber long.
+    Let no angel from above
+    Wake the sleeping slave--my love.
+
+    By the grave I watch and weep,
+      Watch and weep in anxious pain,
+    Watch my love’s exhausted sleep,
+      Weep lest he should wake again--
+    With heart and mind and soul I dread
+    The resurrection of the dead.
+
+
+
+
+A Prayer
+
+
+   Lord, let me die on my feet--upright and boldly facing
+     My last sad great adventure and experience’s crown,
+   Let my eyes be all undimmed as they look into the darkness,
+     Let me hail death as a conqueror before he strikes me down.
+
+   Let me die with my head up, sword drawn, my shield flung from me,
+     Stout to the end, yet proud to win my discharge at last,
+   With worshipping clear gaze let me run to meet the future,
+     And with forgiving laughter make my farewells to the past.
+
+   Let me not die in my bed, in weariness and weakness,
+     While outside, undesired, unheard, all valiant nature calls,
+   Save me from tumbled sheets, drawn blinds, and muffled footsteps,
+     From staring eyes to pity me when the last anguish falls.
+
+   Lord let me die in my boots, I care not where death meets me,
+     But let me die upright and armed, with free unclouded mind,
+   Let me relish in their fullness the last moments life shall give me,
+     Then plunge on without vain regrets for vain things left behind.
+
+   Let me meet death on the waters, in the din of the waves’ roaring,
+     In the shattering of the thunder, when the splitting timbers break,
+   Let me meet him on the mountains, on the shrieking snow-storm riding,
+     I care not where he finds me, if he find me but awake.
+
+   I care not how I meet him, if I meet him as a warrior,
+     Not as a slave the master he has given cause to frown.
+   I will challenge him to combat, and when he sees me fearless,
+     He will hail me as a conqueror before he strikes me down.
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75479 ***
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+      Willow’s forge and other poems | Project Gutenberg
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+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75479 ***</div>
+<h1>WILLOW’S FORGE <br><span class="small">AND OTHER POEMS</span></h1>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter bbox">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="BY_THE_SAME_AUTHOR"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i></h2>
+
+<hr class="r5">
+
+<h3>THE TRAMPING METHODIST</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>‘We cannot too highly recommend this book. It is a remarkable first
+attempt. It is quite without crudeness. The atmosphere of this novel
+is sweet—it smells of summer and shines of the stars.’—<i>Daily
+Chronicle.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>STARBRACE</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>‘It is difficult not to be unduly enthusiastic over Miss
+Kaye-Smith’s book.... This fine, tragic, poetic book is a welcome
+sign that the spirits of Borrow and Stevenson are still in our
+midst.’—<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>SPELL LAND</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>‘If I were to state exactly the position which I believe this author
+will take among the great masters of English fiction, you might accuse
+me of exaggeration.’—<i>Punch.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+Published by <span class="smcap">G. Bell &amp; Sons Limited</span><br>
+York House, Portugal Street, London<br>
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="r5">
+
+<h3>ISLE OF THORNS</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>‘We have found ourselves over and over again simply lost in
+admiration.... No one should miss this book.’—<i>Pall Mall
+Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+Published by <span class="smcap">Constable &amp; Co. Ltd.</span><br>
+10 Orange Street, London, W.C.<br>
+</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center"><span class="xbig">
+WILLOW’S FORGE</span><br>
+<span class="big">AND OTHER POEMS</span><br>
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center p2">
+BY<br><span class="big">
+SHEILA KAYE-SMITH</span>
+</p>
+
+<p class="center p4">
+LONDON<br>
+ERSKINE MACDONALD<br>
+1914<br>
+</p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr><th></th><th class="tdr page">PAGE</th></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+BALLADS—</td></tr>
+<tr><td>                    
+<span class="smcap">Willow’s Forge</span>          </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Ballad of a Motor Bus</span>                </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Song of Jacob Boehme</span>         </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Counsel of Gilgamesh</span>         </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Ballad of the Quick and Dead</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Ballad of Divine Compassion</span>          </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+
+
+THE LAST GOSPEL—</td></tr>
+<tr><td>  
+
+1. <span class="smcap">Dedication</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+2. <span class="smcap">Love Cast Out</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+3. <span class="smcap">Holy Innocents</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+4. <span class="smcap">To My Body—a Thanksgiving</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+5. <span class="smcap">Funeral March of a Fallen Hero</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+6. ‘<span class="smcap">I am Alpha and Omega</span>’        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+
+
+CANT SONGS—
+</td></tr>
+<tr><td>  
+<span class="smcap">The Scampsman’s Night</span>        </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">A Deuced Moral Lay</span>         </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">Cast for Lag</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">To a Comrade Sped</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+
+MISCELLANEOUS—</td></tr>
+<tr><td>  
+
+<span class="smcap">Bride’s Song</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">Immortality</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">The Optimist</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">Resurrection</span>              </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td>
+
+<span class="smcap">A Prayer</span>          </td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="Willows_Forge">Willow’s Forge</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I’ve crossed the fields from Lattenden</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And haunted Honey Mill,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My feet and all my clothes are torn.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Yet on I stumble still—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I must not stay to speak to you</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Or falter with my pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But hasten on to Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the bottom of the lane.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Folk call me mad—perhaps ’tis true—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My life is full of fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">At whiles I bite my arms, and then</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I wash the blood with tears.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I scream, I talk to owls and crows,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Hear voices from the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I see the spooks that ride o’ nights—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Men shudder when I’m nigh.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">My love was hanged for stealing sheep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">’Twas that which sent me mad—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He was a liar and a thief,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But O I loved my lad!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I’ve wandered wildly ever since,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And last night, ’neath the Wain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I saw my love at Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the bottom of the lane.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">His face was wan, his burning eye</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Was like a coal from hell</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">(He’s with the damned souls, all folk say,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But O I love him well!)</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">His hands were misty as the moon</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That bathed his awful brow,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">His lips and breast were smeared with blood,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">His cheeks were white as snow.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘O tell me, love, where have you been</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">This weary sleepless while?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I’ve screamed and wept to kiss your lips,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I’ve hungered for your smile.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Have you been down among the damned,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Where, like the sheep in fold,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The dead men lie, and bleat and cry</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And shiver in the cold?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘Have you been up to where the clouds</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Are sailing in the blue,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And have they thrown you down, and said</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">’Twas no fit place for you?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Or have you roamed all Sussex through</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In weariness and pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To meet me here at Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the bottom of the lane?’</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He nothing said at all, but stared</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">With glazed and dreadful eye,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">His red lips shook, as if he strove</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To part them with a cry.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He could not speak, and O I thought</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">He’d shiver from my sight,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And leave me lone at Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In the terror of the night.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘O kiss me lad, before you go!’</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I cried, and raised my head.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He stooped his scarlet lips to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The living kissed the dead.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But O his mouth was all on fire,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And burned my cheek and hair,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I screamed aloud, and he had gone,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And left me waiting there.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I told my mother what had passed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">She shuddered at my tale—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘You’ve seen the moonlight through the trees</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That shiver in the gale;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And as for your burnt cheek, my girl,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which makes you sob with pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">You’ve kissed the fire at Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the bottom of the lane.’</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">But though she speak, and though I hear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I will not aught believe</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But that at last I’ve met and kissed</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The lad for whom I grieve.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And if I haunt the meeting spot,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I’ll see him there again—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That’s why I haste to Willow’s Forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the bottom of the lane.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Ballad_of_a_Motor_Bus">The Ballad of a Motor ’Bus</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">You get in at Ludgate Circus,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Where in regiments they stand,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All throbbing underneath the bridge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And pointing to the Strand—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All pageantry with colours,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">All poetry with words,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Wait those blazoned motor-’buses</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In their fiercely panting herds.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">There are ’buses for the East,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">There are ’buses for the West,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For North and South and Central</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And where heaven pleases best—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For the Elephant and Castle,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Gospel Oak and Parson’s Green,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Some for Chelsea, some for Putney,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Some for Barnes, and some for Sheen.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">There are some that cross the river,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And they see the steamers crawl</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With dirty belching smoke-stacks</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To the Pool or London Wall—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">They rumble down the dingy streets</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Where dingy houses grow</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Like quickly sprouting toadstools</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In an evil yellow row.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And some go plunging northward</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Up the hills to Kensal Rise,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And some are bound for Hampstead</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And the smokeless windy skies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And some go east to Hackney,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And the long Commercial Road,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Past the buying and the selling,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To poverty’s abode.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">But the ’bus I take goes westward—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">It leaves Charing Cross behind,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Then it bounds up Piccadilly,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Through the smokey dusty wind—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The first lamps have been lighted,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And across St James’s Park</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The early lights of Westminster</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Are splashing on the dark.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The dusk is falling gently,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And from the streets below</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The London glare climbs upward</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To make the sad skies glow—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Through the mingled dusk and dazzle</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">We hum swiftly on our way,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">While the wind brings to our faces</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The first damps of the day.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">It is Summer, it is evening,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Early stars are in the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Shining dim above the smoke-wreaths,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">While the western bonfires die—</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And the wind sings of the river</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That beyond the city flows,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of the pleasant westward reaches</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That no cargo-tramper knows.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">So we spin through holy Brompton,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">We leave Kensington behind,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">We thunder down to Fulham,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Past churches tall and blind—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Till we come at last to Putney,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And the starlit river gleams</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Through darkness up to Richmond,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">A thoroughfare of dreams.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And it’s there that you are waiting,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">O my faithful love, for me!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Through the dark your eyes are straining</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My chariot to see—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For the working-day is over,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">All its dust and hurry past,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And we go to the river,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">With my hand in yours at last.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">While the motor-’bus rolls onward—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And we stop to watch it tear</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All burning through the twilight,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Mysterious and fair.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was our love’s bright chariot,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The torch of our desires,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Kindling the London darkness</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">With youth’s eternal fires.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">O youth!—O youth in London!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Shall they ever be forgot,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Those young and eager footsteps</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">On pavements hard and hot?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The dust is in the breezes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Stinks of petrol stain the air,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But youth has come to London,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And has found a garden there.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Song_of_Jacob_Boehme">The Song of Jacob Boehme</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The wild fowl hath not seen it,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">No vulture flown so high,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The lion’s whelp hath not trodden,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Nor the fierce lion passed by,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The crags and the abysses</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of that most lonely way,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Which windeth in the mountains,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And leadeth to the May.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The chymist labours nightly,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">No travail will he shirk,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">If he can hope to finish</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The Philosophic Work.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mercury, salt, and sulphur,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In Athanor are they,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But through their transmutation</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">He cannot find the May.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I am but a cobbler,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At work from morn till night,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">A poor and silly groundling</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who scarce can read or write;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With cares of trade and household</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I struggle all the day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But I have trod the mountains,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And I have found the May.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">—The May of glancing sunshine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The May of glowing flowers,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of singing birds, and breezes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And swift leaf-scented showers.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">No more I fear the Turba,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For I have seen God play</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Among the dews and lilies</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of the Eternal May.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">O I have found the spring-time</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of green sun-spotted shade!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">O I have found the garden</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Where roses never fade!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">O I have learned the secrets</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And signs of all the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And wrought the Magnum Opus</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of holy Alchemy!</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The salt Impress of Saturn</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Is mine, and Luna’s Form,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And Mercury’s sharp Flagrat,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And Mars’ most ruddy storm,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mine is the young child Venus,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Mine Jupiter’s pure might,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I haunt the sacred Houses,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I read the dooms of night.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The magical Triangles</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Have shown me what they hold</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of light and corporiety,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of bitterness and gold,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I saw God in the garden,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I saw Him on the Tree,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Dying to bring back Adam</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Into the Liberty.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Men laugh, and call me crazy,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The pastor saith I’ve sought</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To overturn the doctrines</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That Martin Luther taught.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My books he burnt, with curses,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And I have heard him tell</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Good Christians to avoid me</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">As they would flee from hell.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The astrologers all mock me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The learned chymists cry,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘What hath this child to tell us</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">About our Alchemy?’</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I have felt drought and hunger,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Met lions in the way,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Been wounded in friends’ houses,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But I have found the May.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">—The May of glancing sunshine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The May of glowing flowers,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of singing-birds, and breezes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And swift leaf-scented showers.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">No more I fear the Turba,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For I have seen God play</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Among the dews and lilies</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of the Eternal May.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">O hearken then, thou Magus,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And let thy love be sure,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Give worship to the Artist,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And keep his pattern pure,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">O labour in the lubet!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And I shall humbly pray</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That thou become a Champion,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And find at last the May.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The magical Triangles</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Shall both at last be one,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Adam return to Paradise,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The Mighty Work be done;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Then the meek holy servants</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Shall see their God at play—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">O haste the time, great Master,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">When all men find the May!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Counsel_of_Gilgamesh">The Counsel of Gilgamesh</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">‘Gilgamesh, why dost thou wander around?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Life, which thou seekest, thou canst not find.’</div>
+  </div>
+
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent2"><i>Epic of Gilgamesh.</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Why wander round, Gilgamesh?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The sun that set to-night</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Shall climb the sky to-morrow,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And bake the world with light.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Throughout undying ages</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The sun shall set and rise</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">As it hath set and risen</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">From dim eternities.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Why wander round, Gilgamesh?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Why vainly wander round?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">What canst thou find, O seeker,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which hath not long been found?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">What canst thou know, O scholar,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which hath not long been known?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">What canst thou have, O spoiler,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which dead men did not own?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The camel of the desert,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The wild ape of the wood,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Tread the white bones of heroes</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who in thy place once stood;</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Like thee, they felt the sunshine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Like thee, they loved the day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Like thee, they sought and suffered—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And thou shalt be as they.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And other men, Gilgamesh,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Shall seek what thou dost seek,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And to their youth and ardour</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thy rotting bones will speak.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">They will not heed thy counsel,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">They too will wander round,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And waste their years in seeking</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That which hath long been found.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Why wander round, Gilgamesh?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Why vainly wander round?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">What canst thou find, O seeker,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which hath not long been found?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">What canst thou know, O scholar,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Which dead men did not know?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And this was asked in Nineveh</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thousands of years ago.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Ballad_of_the_Quick_and_Dead">The Ballad of the Quick and Dead</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And every night I sit alone,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And every night I see</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">A little cotton-aproned ghost</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who takes no heed of me.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">She sets the milk, she sets the bread,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">One scarce would know that she was dead—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But long ago death gave her greeting,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In the great bed whence one can see</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The sunset in the cherry tree,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And hear the fold-bound wethers bleating.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">In a far country lives the man</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who loved this little maid,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He knows not, cares not, that each night</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">His supper here is laid.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">She lays it as in twilights gone,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When, all the farmstead labour done,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">His passion in her arms would take</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Its daylong waited recompense—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And her lost peace and innocence</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">She gave ungrudging for his sake.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">She lived for love, she died for love,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Though love was agony,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And here, where joy was sold for love,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">She loves eternally.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He does not care—he wanders far,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Where light and wine and pleasure are;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">He strives and battles to forget</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The little cottage dove he caught,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Who gave so much and asked for naught,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And haunts the crumbling farmhouse yet.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">O Lord, how happy I should be,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">If one my heart holds dear</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Would come and spread the board for me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">As she who rambles here!</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I should not wander far away,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Or struggle to forget the day</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I loved, but to her straight would speed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And pledge the cup and break the bread</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With one who has been ten years dead—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Ah, that were heaven indeed!</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">It may not be—no dreams of me</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Disturb her quiet sleep;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">She little knows that dreams of her</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Wake me each night to weep.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I never mocked her confidence,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Or robbed her of her innocence,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But with both hands I gave her all</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I had to give—she did not see</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My love, she never thinks of me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">She comes not when I call.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">So every night I sit alone,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And every night I see</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">A little cotton-aproned ghost</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who takes no heed of me.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">This is the tragedy of love,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">By all men be it read,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">’Tis thus the dead dream of the quick,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The quick dream of the dead.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">This is the mockery of love,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">By all men be it read,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">’Tis thus the dead forget the quick,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The quick forget the dead.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Ballad_of_Divine_Compassion">The Ballad of Divine Compassion</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The halls of heaven were full of joy,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">The quivering air was blue</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With incense, and with candles gay</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The mansions of eternal day</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Were gleaming through and through.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Saints in Glory danced and sang</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In robes of glittering white—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Till heaven with their music rang,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Saints in Glory danced and sang,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">And filled themselves with light.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Through groves of trees and lawns of flowers</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">They trod the mystic maze</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of many a sacred rigadoon,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Danced to a fiddling angel’s tune,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">With endless roundelays.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">One only walked apart and sighed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In all that blissful horde,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Shrank from the revel, and alone</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Poured from an aching heart his moan,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">And He was Christ the Lord.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He leaned across the fiery gate</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Which stands above the stars,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And from the fields where angels dwell</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Shuts the red cemeteries of hell</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">With seven burning bars.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He leaned above the direful deep</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Where tortured spirits lie,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He saw their helpless agonies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He saw their wild and weeping eyes</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Turned up towards the sky.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And all the sorrows of His heart</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Were grinding in His breast,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He longed to comfort those poor sheep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To give them drink, and let them sleep</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">On the green hills of rest.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Nought were to Him the heavenly fields,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">The flocks His blood had bought,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He thought alone of His lost sheep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of those who toss, and starve, and weep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Whom He had vainly sought.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And as the Saviour watched them there</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In all their sweat and fear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">His love and longing rose so high,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That from His tender, pitying eye</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">There fell a holy Tear.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The tear rolled down, until it dropped</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Into the blackest hell,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And straight there were strange things to see</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Within that pit of misery</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Where the pure token fell.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Tear became a mighty sea,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Which raged, and roared, and rolled,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And filled each black and gaping gorge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And quenched each red and belching forge,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">And wrecked each towering hold.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And all the lost and sinning souls</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Were borne upon its waves—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">By that one Tear the Saviour wept</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The doomed of ages all were swept</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Out of their living graves.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And, carried on the heaving tide,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">The lost souls rose to heaven,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Tumbling and drowning, hand in hand,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">They reached the coolness of that land</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Where all things are forgiven.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Women, and men, and children too,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">All blasted, scorched, and red,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Were washed up to the Saviour’s feet,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">By that one Tear of pity sweet</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">His loving eye had shed.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Saints in Glory danced and sang,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">They sang and danced so high</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">They saw not that their Lord was gone,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Or that His white and fiery throne</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Stood empty in the sky.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">They saw Him not as He stooped down</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">To lift each cowering slave,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">They saw Him not, so great their bliss,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">On each scarred forehead lay His kiss,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">As sign that He forgave.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He could not take those guilty ones</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">To where the guiltless throng</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Pealed forth their own salvation’s praise,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And through the everlasting days</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Shouted their triumph song.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He led them to the wilderness,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Where stood the Holy Cross,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And from the timber of that Tree</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He built a house of welcome, free</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">To those lame sons of loss.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Saints in Glory feasted on</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">The honey-dews of heaven,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">So all those sinners had for food</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Was their Lord’s body and His blood,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">To their great hunger given.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The Saints in Glory danced and sang,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Nor missed Him from their sport,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And so He made His dwelling-place</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With the poor pensioners of grace</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">His pardoning love had bought.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And never to the halls of bliss</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">He lifts a longing eye,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The poor souls never hear Him groan,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Or sigh because His great white throne</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Stands empty in the sky.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He leads them through the wilderness,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">He makes their faces wet</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With water from a desert steam,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The black past as an evil dream</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">He helps them to forget.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He is the comforter of those</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">Whom stormy seas have tossed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He dries the eyes of those that weep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He is the shepherd of lame sheep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">The Saviour of the Lost.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LAST_GOSPEL">THE LAST GOSPEL</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>1. Dedication</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent6">When Mass is said,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">The music dead,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And the last lights upon the Altar-throne</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Drop slowly one by one into the dark,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">To the east</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">Turns the Priest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And bows his knee before the sacred Ark</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And whispers the Last Gospel through—alone.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent6">So do I</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">When dreams die,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And love’s last wretched candle-lights are seen</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Darkening upon the Altar of your heart,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">Face the east,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">And like the Priest</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Say my Last Gospel through ere I depart,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And before leaving bow to What Has Been.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="2_Love_Cast_Out">2. Love Cast Out</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">A victim crowned am I,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Crowned, piercèd, and adored,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In my eyes a flame of fire,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In my heart a sword.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Christ is my brother dear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Sister to Christ am I,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For He has felt the thirsty wound</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That I must perish by.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He came a king uncrowned,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Unrobed, the Son of Loss,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And so they pierced His body through,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And hung Him on the cross.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And my love wore no robe,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And my love wore no crown,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My love a pilgrim was, and trod</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The roads in pilgrim’s brown.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And since my love went thus,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">A stranger and a dove,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">You built a cruel wooden cross,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And crucified my love.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And now you bend the knee</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">—As now we Christ adore—</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And set your bleeding sacrifice</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">At God’s right hand above the skies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To worship evermore.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The third day, from the dead</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The Saviour rose again,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He put on robes of royalty,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And sat Him down to reign.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">But my love shall not rise,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My love shall rest and sleep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My love is tired, why should it wake,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That your eyes may not weep?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">For Christ the Saviour has</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">A gentler heart than mine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He lets you crown what you did kill,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of His torn body eat your fill,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And make His blood your wine.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">You shall not use me so—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Go far, the world is wide;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Why should you wake from its poor rest</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The heart you crucified?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Beneath the tender ground</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My love shall sleep for aye,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">No last trump for my love shall sound</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">No resurrection day.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">A victim crowned am I,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Crowned, piercéd, and adored,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In my eyes a flame of fire,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In my heart a sword.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="3_Holy_Innocents">3. Holy Innocents</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">To-day I keep a feast, with red and white—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The red blood and the snow-white innocence</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of little souls who had their recompense</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Before they learned the horrors of the fight.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I see them running in their gardens gay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">They snatch the colours of the rainbow’s flame,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And throw the stars about in childish game,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And pull the clouds to pieces for their play.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">But these are not the throng the king did slay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The babes for whom dark Rachael’s head is bowed—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">’Tis not for them her wailing rings so loud;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Other and holier Innocents are they.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">These are the little ones who never wrought</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Love’s royalest wonder in a mother’s eyes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Who never brought a tender warm surprise</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With groping lips to breasts till then unsought.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">These are the fruit of hundredfold desires,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Ten thousand dreams begot this laughing band,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">They fill the cities of a promised land—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Long promised, but not given—lost in fires.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">These are the children I had hoped to show</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The secret of this life, and all its love—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But they are playing with my dreams above,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">While I plunge on through my dead hopes below.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Saved—Oh perhaps from much that I must brave—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I worship you, sweet saints!—oh pray for me!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The little children that shall never be—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The little children I shall never have.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="4_To_My_Body-A_Thanksgiving">4. To My Body—A Thanksgiving</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Though thou hast set me many a snare,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And cost me many a groan,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And causéd feet to slip that were</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Far dearer than my own—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Though thou hast been both sword and gin</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To others and to me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Yet I recall what thou didst win</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Once for my soul, and I give thanks to thee.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">For once, when all my heavens fell,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And each hour that went by</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Brought nearer to the pit of hell</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The Dayspring which is I—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When all unheard the highest cried,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">When lost were course and goal,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When hope had fled and faith had died—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thou, even thou, didst then redeem my soul.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thou broughtest me unto the snow,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And thou didst force through me</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The pumping blood, that I might know</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">How fierce my flesh could be;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My flesh—till then half love, half dread—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Became an armoured tower,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To which my wounded spirit fled,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And found a refuge in its bitter hour.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thou didst deny the healing sleep</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Unless I strove all day</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With thews and muscles, fierce to keep</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The wolves of thought at bay;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And thou didst crown thyself with strength,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And lift thyself on high,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And free salvation win at length</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For the poor soul that thought it was to die.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Redemption thou didst work for me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And forth into the light</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Crept my healed spirit, saved by thee</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">From all the hells of night—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And this I never shall forget,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And so I can forgive</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thy treacheries, and thank thee yet,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For ’tis through thee I have found grace to live.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And more, for I know that some day</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">A greater wonder thou</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Shalt work for me, when thou shalt slay</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">What thou hast quickened now.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">As once thy life did make me whole,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">So once thy death shall reap</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Both for thyself and for my soul</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The last redemption of a long, long sleep.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="5_Funeral_March_of_a_Fallen_Hero">5. Funeral March of a Fallen Hero</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Sound the trumpet, beat the drum,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lay the purple on his breast,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let my shuddering memories come</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To salute him in his rest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To bow down to his disgrace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">While I cover up his face.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Once he led my soul to war,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And the thunder of his cry</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Went before me, fierce and far,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Calling me to triumph or die;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">To his sword I owe my place,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But I cover up his face.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Scornfully he mocked my fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">‘Raise the banner!—up and fight!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Follow me through blood and tears!’</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">From the darkness into light,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">After him, I strove apace,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Now I cover up his face.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">In his eyes I dare not gaze,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lest I should see mirrored there</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All the white and hungry blaze</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of my own eyes’ hot despair,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All my shame for his disgrace—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">So I cover up his face.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">In my heart he lies in state,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Purple sorrow is his pall,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Trumps of doom and drums of fate</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Sound the dead-march of his fall—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">On his livid brows a crown</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of withered bays and laurels brown.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">At his head tall candles burn,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">They are hopes that slowly die,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">At his feet the brazen urn</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Where my love’s best ashes lie,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">At his side the broken sword</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of his own most solemn word.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Fallen hero, I would bring</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Dreams to deck thine obsequies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lay them as an offering</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">On thy heart, where sorrow lies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But ’twould spoil thy stately bed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For, like thee, my dreams are dead.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Sound the trumpet, beat the drum,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lay the purple on his breast,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Bow before his shame, and come</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To perform each last behest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Give him royal resting-place—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But, O cover up his face!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="6_I_Am_Alpha_and_Omega">6. ‘I Am Alpha and Omega....’</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And dost Thou bless the end? O Lord of Life</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And the Beginning, Lord of the New Birth,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lord of the dancing April days of earth!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When the sour chills of Autumn winds are rife,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And Summer faints and withers in the strife</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of tempests and the strangling grips of dearth,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">Dost Thou still bless the End?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">O Lord of the world’s morning!—Thou canst bless,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Birth-pangs and travail—Thou hast hallowed all—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But canst Thou bless the turning to the wall</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of dying eyes? the panting slow distress</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of those who fear the clutch of Nothingness?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">When into death’s cold deeps Thy servants fall,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">Dost Thou still bless the End?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And canst Thou bless the hour when love is dead?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thou seek’st the harmonies of new-strung lyres,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thou art the guardian of new-kindled fires,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">But when the last of love’s poor life is fled,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">His ashes to the four winds scatterèd,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And my charred soul crept bleeding from the pyres,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">Dost Thou still bless the End?</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Yea, Thou dost bless the End—For Thou hast sworn</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That Thou, Eternal, art the First and Last,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lord of the Future, Thine too is the past,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thine is the night, O high priest of the dawn!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Alpha and Omega! both love new-born</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And love long dead are in Thy hands kept fast,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">Yea, Thou dost bless the End.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thine are the shadows of the dropping night,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Thine are the wastes of lonely moonless seas,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The wilted leaves of tossing Autumn trees,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thine the faint cries, the slowly drowning sight</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of those who in the gulfs of darkness fight—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And dead love sleeps upon Thy mighty knees</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">Ever world without end.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CANT_SONGS">CANT SONGS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="The_Scampsmans_Night">The Scampsman’s Night</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mists on the marsh are gathering thick,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The shuddering woods are dim,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My barker’s muzzle looks grim,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of boozing and delling and such I’m sick.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Saddle my mare—my Marjorie—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For Oliver’s glim is bright,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And this is a snaffling night—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Ho, my girl, for the nuttiest spree!</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">We’ll make his Lordship tip us the bit,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">We’ll knuckle his mort’s fawnie,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And a kiss, for we’re gay dogs, we,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And love to fool with a comely chit.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">At morning’s dawn we will ride to our ken,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And tipple, and count our swag,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And of our flash spices brag,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And rest the bodies of mares and men.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="A_Deuced_Moral_Lay">A Deuced Moral Lay</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Oh lads that are quier on the rum-padding lay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That saddle your prancers at waning of day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That ride to the tavern at dawning,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Take warning,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">For a dell with a scampsman the dickens ’ull play.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">In gaol a full dozen of rum-pads are lying,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And for Dolly and Molly and Polly are sighing,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But those very same troublesome fair</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Sent ’em there,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And they’ll all curse their morts when it comes to the dying.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let the gemman who wants to bing wide of the crap</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Beware of his dell, for she’s certain to rap—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">There I’ve tipped you a deuced moral lay,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">So good day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I’m off to lie soft in my Barbara’s lap.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="Cast_for_Lag">Cast for Lag</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">On the Pamunkey’s pine-fringed shore—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lord! how drear is the torrent’s roar!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Sits the gentleman rum-pad, slave,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Watching the leap of the restless wave,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And sighing for his Jenny.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Cast for lag was this scampsman bold,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Flung in a slaver’s stinking hold,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Kicked and flogged like a vagrant cur—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That was hard on a gentleman, Sir,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">Who sighed for pretty Jenny.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Bought by a planter and driven away</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Many a mile on a sweltering day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lashed to a negro, foul and black,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Each time I stumbled the whip on my back,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">Lord! how I sighed for Jenny.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Set to work in the sugar canes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Hunger, thirst, and the sun’s hot pains,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Bed at night with a filthy crew,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Tumble and toss and sweat and stew,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And wretched dreams of Jenny.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thus the miserable days go by,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Grinding toil ’neath a torrid sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Pain and hate, thirst and hunger wild,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Tears at night like a beaten child—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">Pray for me, pretty Jenny!</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="To_a_Comrade_Sped">To a Comrade Sped</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Oh you fool, you! Who’d have thought it!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Dangling like a dog on string.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That poor spice, you’ve dearly bought it—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Lad, how does it feel to swing?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Did you kick when the hemp choked you,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And your heels danced in the air,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And the sweat of dying soaked you,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Struggling on the three-legged mare?</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Swear you did! Your grin, my Billy,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Is not what it ought to be,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Thus to show your teeth is silly,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And not over good to see.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Dolly wouldn’t kiss that cheek, Sir,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">With the veins swelled out so black,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Pretty Bab would squirm and shriek, Sir,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">At the scars upon your back—</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Which you had in gaol, my beauty,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Ere you gambolled on the crap,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lud! the Sheriff did his duty,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Ordered you both rope and strap.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">For you held the roads a-trembling,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Billy with the face so black;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Ah, I hear you—‘No dissembling!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Tip the steven—don’t be slack!’</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Blowens screamed, and gemmen cursed you,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But you caved ’em with your pop,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Now, alas! the hemp has burst you,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Ere you reaped your nutty crop.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Oh you fool, you! Who’d have thought it!</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Bowled out, trussed up, stark, and dead.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Ruffler crack, Egad! you’ve caught it,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Caught it fairly on the head.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p>
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="MISCELLANEOUS">MISCELLANEOUS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="Brides_Song">Bride’s Song</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was not always thus I loved,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Once, long ago, another love was mine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">A love that through the constellations moved</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">On fiery way divine—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was not always thus I loved.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">But can a bird for ever fly?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">Too rare, too lofty, is the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">The poor bird folds his tired wings,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And in the tree-top sings,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And tries</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">To forget the skies.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was not always thus I dreamed,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Once, long ago, I walked in Paradise,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And through the coolness of the garden gleamed</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">An angel’s beckoning eyes—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was not always thus I dreamed.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">But can the sun be ever bright?</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">He faints before the sword of night,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And back into the house we hie,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">And with a candle try,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">When day’s done,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent12">To forget the sun.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I went into the sunset, and I heard</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Among the trees the faint note of a bird.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="Immortality">Immortality</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">One star upon the desert of the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">One song upon the silences of night,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Upon the tossing of the stream, one light,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">One moment in a blank eternity.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">For, O my love, eternity is drear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And soon we both shall weary of it so,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That we shall turn and hide ourselves for fear</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In that sweet hour God gave us long ago.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">We cannot wander from it very far,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For down the long wild ways, it calls us home,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Red through the evening like a fallen star,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">A dim undying hearth for loves that roam.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I feel were I to meet you I might not</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Even know you in the street, nor you know me—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">You might look back and whisper, ‘Who is she?’</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I might sigh at something half forgot.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">But in our Moment I can kiss your face,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Smiling and strong—unchanged by all the years;</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I can hold you there a little space,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And you hold me—unchanged by all my tears.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I can whisper to you of that night</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">When our dark boat made moon-swept waters hiss.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Your face was wet with spray, spray-wet your kiss,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Your eyes were stars that I had set alight.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Dim planets hung above the trembling trees,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The suck of water shook the misty air,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The darkness showed you magic in my hair,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The darkness showed you rest upon my knees.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">We saw two wandering stars fall through the sky—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">’Twas you and I, lost in the chilly haze,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Apart, adrift, forsaken, but ablaze</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With one short hour’s eternal ecstacy.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">And into our poor love of rags and tears</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The fire of life and deathless love rushed down,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Rushed the great love of this world’s million years,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Gave us the kingdom, set on us the crown—</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us all love of lovers since the morn</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Of love in the dim daybreak of the earth,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Gave us all harmonies since music’s birth,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us all colours since the first red dawn—</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us the Springtime with its changing tunes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us the mysteries of many Junes,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us the stars, gave us the trackless sea,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Gave us each other to eternity.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Love may be gone, as you are gone, my dear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But our almighty moment cannot die—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It shall stand fast when the last crumbling sphere</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Shall crash out of the ruin of the sky.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">When the last constellations faint and fall,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">When the last planets burst in fiery foam,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When all the winds have sunk asleep, when all</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The worn way-weary comets have come home—</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">When past and present and the future flee,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My moment lives! and I shall hold you there.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It lives to be my immortality,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">An immortality which you shall share.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">One star upon the desert of the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">One song upon the silences of night,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Upon the tossing of the stream, one light,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">One moment in a blank eternity.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="The_Optimist">The Optimist</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">The earth is green, the earth is wide,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And when its widest bound is past,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">There are the stars on every side,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">For soaring souls to win at last—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">There is no bound for those that fly,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Floorless and roofless is the sky,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Hope knows no hindrance but clipped wings,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">So, throughout all life’s little while,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My heart is happy, and I smile,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">In spite of many things,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In spite of pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In spite of fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In spite of want,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">In spite of tears</div>
+    <div class="verse indent8">—In spite of you.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mine is the future, and the past,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The growing and the dying gleam,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mine is ambition till the last,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And there are dreams for me to dream.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mine is the sagging Winter day,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Mine too the softness of the May,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">The lusty strength of bread and wine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The valiant dawn, the pondering night,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The flowering change from dark to light,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">All holy things are mine,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In spite of pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In spite of fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In spite of want,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">In spite of tears</div>
+    <div class="verse indent8">—In spite of you.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Adventure weaves the shining dress</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Experience at last shall wear,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Grief, rapture, triumph, bitterness</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Combine to trace the pattern there.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">All sorrow that my soul assails</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Helps to embroider golden veils</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To deck me in the glorious day</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">When I shall reign in endless rest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">So strength and laughter fill my breast,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent14">And on my heartstrings play,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In spite of pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In spite of fears,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent4">In spite of want,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent6">In spite of tears</div>
+    <div class="verse indent10">—In spite of you.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="Resurrection">Resurrection</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">By the grave I watch and weep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Watch and weep in anxious pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Watch my Love’s exhausted sleep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Weep lest he should wake again—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With heart and mind and soul I dread</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The resurrection of the dead.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Is it a hard law of Thine</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That no third day’s dawn shall break</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Without bringing life divine</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">To the dead? O for the sake</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Of all Thy thorns and lilies won,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let my weary one sleep on!</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Rough was life for my poor love,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Fierce the whirlwind, wild the wave,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">It was mercy from above</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That he found this quiet grave,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And there laid him down to rest,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In the earth’s consoling breast.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">He is desperate for sleep.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">He would never choose to wake,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I watch by him and weep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Trembling lest the light should break</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">In the merciful dark skies,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And torment his heavy eyes.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Though I know that Christ the Lord</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">On the third day rose again,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">And I fear it is His word</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">That the crucified should reign,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Yet to Him I humbly pray</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">That my love shall sleep for aye.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">For he never was a king,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Never sat upon a throne,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He was just a trodden thing,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Stumbling in the dark alone.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let him rest—Eternal bliss?—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">He is far too tired for this.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Life is for the gods and great,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Resurrection for the strong,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Joy for those of high estate,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Slaves would rather slumber long.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let no angel from above</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Wake the sleeping slave—my love.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">By the grave I watch and weep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Watch and weep in anxious pain,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Watch my love’s exhausted sleep,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Weep lest he should wake again—</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With heart and mind and soul I dread</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">The resurrection of the dead.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p>
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="A_Prayer">A Prayer</h3>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lord, let me die on my feet—upright and boldly facing</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">My last sad great adventure and experience’s crown,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let my eyes be all undimmed as they look into the darkness,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Let me hail death as a conqueror before he strikes me down.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let me die with my head up, sword drawn, my shield flung from me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Stout to the end, yet proud to win my discharge at last,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">With worshipping clear gaze let me run to meet the future,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">And with forgiving laughter make my farewells to the past.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let me not die in my bed, in weariness and weakness,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">While outside, undesired, unheard, all valiant nature calls,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Save me from tumbled sheets, drawn blinds, and muffled footsteps,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">From staring eyes to pity me when the last anguish falls.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Lord let me die in my boots, I care not where death meets me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">But let me die upright and armed, with free unclouded mind,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let me relish in their fullness the last moments life shall give me,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Then plunge on without vain regrets for vain things left behind.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let me meet death on the waters, in the din of the waves’ roaring,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">In the shattering of the thunder, when the splitting timbers break,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Let me meet him on the mountains, on the shrieking snow-storm riding,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">I care not where he finds me, if he find me but awake.</div>
+  </div>
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">I care not how I meet him, if I meet him as a warrior,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Not as a slave the master he has given cause to frown.</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">I will challenge him to combat, and when he sees me fearless,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">He will hail me as a conqueror before he strikes me down.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75479 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #75479 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75479)