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LEAVES OF LI FE

Whet her at Nai shdpi i r or Babyl on

WJi et l i er t he cup wi t h sweet or bi t t er r un.

The Wi ne of Li f e i s oozi ng dr op by dr op,

The Leaves of Li f e ar e f al i i ng one by one

BY

E. NESBI T

AUTHOR OF ' l ays AND LEGENDS*

Some of t hese ver ses her ei n have appear ed bef or e i n var i ous

per i odi cal s. To t he sever al edi t or s and publ i sher s I owe

my t hanks f or t he cour t esy whi ch per mi t s me t o r epr i nt such

ver ses her e.

E. NESBI T.

CONTENTS.

EARTH AND HEAVEN

WI NTER VI OLETS

AMONG HI S BOOKS

A - YEAR' S COMEDY

A DEFENCE

MORNI NG SONG

EVENI NG SONG .

THE DEAD MOTHER .

TWO LI VES

MARCHI NG SONG

DEAD LEAVES

AT THE GATE OF EDEN

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BEWI TCHED

THE KI SS

UNDER CONVOY .

TORCH- BEARERS

TREASON .

1

I I

13

17

19

21

23

24

26

35

37

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38

41

44

46

49

50

CONTENTS

THE SAI LOR' S WI FE .

ON DI T . . . .

SWEET SUMMER

NI GHT AND MORNI NG .

TO OUR LADY

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM

THE BETTER PART .

THE NEW FLOWER

ALL I N ALL . . . .

A WORD FOR THE FUTURE

KNOWLEDGE . . . .

TO DI ANA

AN APPEAI , . . . .

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

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TO A CHI LD READI NG

' WHATEVER THY HAND FI NDETH '

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS .

DE PROFUNDI S .

THE MERMAI D .

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN .

RONDEAU . . . .

TOO LATE

CHRI STMAS ROSES

SUMMER . . . .

GOOD ADVI CE

BETROTHAL SONG

I N PRAI SE OF WORK

CONTENTS

ON AN AUTUMN DAY .

THE MEADOWS OF LONG AGO

A REASON

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE

l ove' s ECONOMY

THE LOVER TO HI S LASS

I N A NI NETEENTH- CENTURY EDEN

DI VORCED . . . .

A CI TY cl er k' s CHRI STMAS DREAM

THE BELFRY.

THE CHI LDREN .

THE LOVERS' CHOI CE

SPRI NG . . . .

A DEDI CATI ON

DAFFODI LS

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE

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140

US

154

58

i &i

164

168

169

172

176

178

180

183

CONTENTS

THE sai l or ' s wi f e .

ON Dt T . . . .

SWEET SUMMER

NI GHT AND MORNI NG .

TO OUR LADY

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM

THE BETTER PART .

THE NEW FLOWER

ALL I N ALL . . . .

A WORD FOR THE FUTURE

KNOWLEDGE . . . .

TO DI ANA

AN APPEAL . . . .

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

TO A CHI LD READI NG

' WHATEVER THY HAND FI NDETH '

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS .

DE PROFUNDI S .

THE MERMAI D . .

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN .

RONDEAU . . . .

Page 6 of 100

TOO LATE

CHRI STMAS ROSES

SUMMER . . . .

GOOD ADVI CE

BETROTHAL SONG

I N PRAI SE OF WORK

CONTENTS

ON AN AUTUMN DAY .

THE MEADOWS OF LONG AGO

A REASON

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE

LOVE' S ECONOMY

THE LOVER TO HI S LASS

I N A NI NETEENTH- CENTURY EDEN

DI VORCED . . . .

A CI TY cl er k' s CHRI STMAS DREAM

THE BELFRY.

THE CHI LDREN .

THE LOVERS' CHOI CE

SPRI NG . . . .

A DEDI CATI ON

DAFFODI LS

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE

PAGE

140

«4S

47

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156

158

161

164

168

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169

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' The l eav es of l i f e ar e f al l i ng one by one'

—

The woods onc e t hi c k and gr een ar e br own and s e7- e ;

And y out h wi t h al l her bount eous hour s i s done,

And age i s her e.

' The l eav es of l i f e ar e f al l i ng one by one '

—

And one by one t he heav y hour s f al l pas t ,

A nd t he gl ad hour s we pr ay ed mi ght ni er be gone.

Ar e gone at l as t .

' The l eav es of l i f e ar e f al l i ng one by one '

—

Ol d dr eams , ol d f r i ends , we wat c h t hem f al l away ;

And al l our mus i c t ak es a mi nor t one.

Our s k i es gr ow gr ay .

' The l eav es of l i f e ar e f al l i ng one by one'

—

Bes t , wor s t , l ov ed, hat ed, happy day s and s ad.

Eac h t he i nev i t abl e c our s e has r un.

The pr es ent had.

' The l eav es of l i f e ar e f al l i ng one by one'

—

Ti l l , af t er al l t he gl adnes s and t he s t r i f e.

We s ee t he r ednes s of t he s et t i ng s un

Li ght up our l i f e.

And good s eems not s o good — i l l not s o i l l ;

And t hi ngs l ook ot her t han t hey us ed t o s eem ;

Our s el v es mor e v ague, ques t i ons of f at e and - wi l l

Les s l i k e a dr eam. .

And t hen why l eav es s houl d f al l we t hi nk we k now.

Bec aus e t he aut ui k n c omes bef or e t he s pr i ng —

The Et er nal Spr i ng, when f l ower s wi l l al way s bl ow,

Bi r ds al way s s i n^ .

EARTH AND HEA VEN.

[ The mot her of St . Si meon St y l i t es , hear i ng of hi s f ame, c ame

t o s ee hi m, but was not al l owed t o ent er t he enc l os ur e r ound- t he

pi l l ar . But when Si meon hear d hi s mot her ' s v oi c e, he s ai d t o her ,

' Bear up, my mot her , a l i t t l e whi l e, and we s hal l s ee eac h ot her ,

Page 8 of 100

i f God wi l l . ' But s he began t o weep and t o r ebuk e hi m, s ay i ng,

' Son, why has t t hou done t hi s ? I p r et ur n f or t he body I bor e

t hee, t hou has t f i l l ed me wi t h ' gr i ef . For t he mi l k wi t h whi c h I

nour i s hed t hee, t hou has t gi v en me t ear s . For t he k i s s wi t h whi c h

I k i s s ed t hee, t hou has t gi v en me an ac hi ng hear t . . . . ' Si meon,

on hi s pi l l ar , was deepl y agi t at ed, and c ov er i ng hi s f ac e wi t h hi s

hands , he wept bi t t er l y and c r i ed t o her , ' O, l ady mot her , be s t i l l

a l i t t l e whi l e, and we s hal l s ee eac h ot her i n et er nal r es t . ' The

poor mot her , wi t h har r owed hear t , hung about t he pl ac e f or t hr ee

day s , c r y i ng t o her s on, and wr ung wi t h gr i ef t o s ee hi s t er r i bl e

penanc e, . . . and at t he end of t hos e t hr ee day s s he f el l as l eep.

. . . And he weepi ng, s ai d, ' The Lor d r ec ei v e t hee i n j oy , mot her , '

&c .

— Li v es of t he Sai nt s , S. Bar i ng Goul d. ]

Her e Ti me i s s t r ange, and k eeps no ev en s peed

As onc e, but c hec k ed or s ped by dr eams , mov es on :

\ \ ' het her i t was or was not s o, i ndeed,

I har dl y k now; but s ome f our day s agone

I t hought s he c ame, c ame near t he i nc l os ed s pac e

Whi c h men hav e wal l ed about my pi l l ar ' s bas e.

( , - • B

EARTH AND HEAVEN

( O mot her ! I n her ey es was al l t he woe

That has been gat her i ng t her e t hes e many y ear s ,

Si nc e t hat f i r s t day , a t hous and l i v es ago,

When s he wat c hed f or me, r ac k ed wi t h doubt s and f ear s ;

And I was l y i ng at t he c onv ent gat e

Awai t i ng t he unf ol di ng of my f at e. )

And t her e s he s t ood. They woul d not l et her i n.

She r eac hed her hands out t o me, and s he c r i ed,

And beat her br eas t and moaned. ( Oh me! my s i n!

Thi s r ebel s oul not y et i s s anc t i f i ed !

Par don, O God, t hat t hi s weak hear t di d ac he

Wi t h ear t hl y s or r ow f or t hat woman' s s ak e! )

And t hen I hear d her v oi c e : ' My s on, my s on.

Why wi l t t hou s hame God' s body i n t hi s wi s e ?

What i s t hi s s ac r i l ege t hat t hou has t done ?

How wi l t t hou meet t he Bl es s ed Mot her ' s ey es ,

And hear her as k t hee what t hou gav es t me

For t hat f ai r body whi c h I bor e f or t hee ? '

Then c r i ed I — God f or gi v e, i f I di d i l l

—

Page 9 of 100

'

Bear up, my mot her , y et a l i t t l e whi l e.

And we s hal l s ee eac h ot her , i f God wi l l .

Pr ay , pr ay s t i l l , ev er pr ay ! ' And t hen ( O v i l e !

EARTH AND HEAVEN

To gr i ev e f or ear t hl y t hi ngs ) I , al s o, wept ,

As t hr ough my hear t c hi l l wi nds of memor y c r ept .

And t hen I t hought

— and y et i t may hav e be. en

Onl y a c r af t of Sat an, t empt i ng me —

I t hought s he wr ung her hands , and l et be s een

The mot her ' s br eas t t hat onc e had nour i s hed me,

And wept agai n, and s pak e ; and ev er y wor d

Pi er c ed t o t he f l es hl y hear t of me who hear d.

' Oh, s on, I pr ay no mor e ! For onc e I pr ay ed

A boon of God f or s weet eni ng of my day s ,

A l i t t l e baby t hat s houl d s of t be l ai d

Upon my bos om — t o Hi s endl es s pr ai s e.

At l as t God hear d my c r y — t hee di d I bear , ,

The i nex or abl e ans wer t o my pr ay er !

' O l i t t l e baby hands I us ed t o k i s s .

Col d, har d, and was t ed — r eac hed not out t o me.

Mot her of Chr i s t , j udge t hou how har d i t i s -

To bear s uc h wounds as i n hi s f eet I s ee —

O l i t t l e pi nk dear f eet I us ed t o hol d.

Ki s s ed now but by f i er c e s un and ni ght wi nds c ol d !

EARTH AND HEAVEN

' Ah ! when I hus hed t hee on my happy br eas t

And s ang t hee whi s per ed l ul l aby es , and s t r ov e

To s ee t he f ut ur e — wor k , and hel p, and r es t .

And good deeds done of t hee, c hi l d of my l ov e —

Why di d no angel bl as t s uc h s weet v ai n s c hemes ,

And s hed t r ut h' s wi t her i ng l i ght upon my dr eams ?

' Thou wer t God' s ans wer t o my pr ay er . And t hou,

Who bade t hee t hus t o mar God' s gi f t and mi ne,

Page 10 of 100

Thy body ? Not t he Lor d of heav en, I t r ow.

Who wor e on ear t h a body l i k e t o t hi ne.

He had a mot her t oo ; y et day by day

Thou dar es t t o r ai s e t hy hands t o Hi m and pr ay ! '

Then I s pok e — I , not y et as s ai nt l y - s t i l l

As penanc e s houl d hav e made me, beat my br eas t :

' Pat i enc e, O l ady mot her ! I f God wi l l ,

We t wo s hal l meet i n an et er nal r es t ! '

' But , oh, ' s he c r i ed, ' t he human l i f e di v i ne

Was t hat i n whi c h God gav e t hee t o be mi ne !

' Not f or anot her l i f e t han t hi s I bor e

Tr av ai l and agony of t hy bi r t h mor n.

The j oy uns peak abl e, t hat pai n no mor e

Coul d t ouc h or mar , when my man- c hi l d was bor n

EARTH AND HEAVEN

FoT t hi s l i f e wer t t hou bor n — and, O my s on,

Wi t h l i f e, God' s gi f t , what good t hi ng has t t hou done ?

' Thou has t br ought s oul s t o God ? Poor s oul s t hat f i nd

No r ef uge s av e t he God t hou dr eames t of !

A God who l ov es t o s ee s ad ey es wept bl i nd,

Fl es h wounded, and dead hear t s c as t out of l ov e !

Bet t er t he heat hen' s l i f e of s oul l es s bl i s s

Than f ai t h i n s uc h a Dev i l - God as t hi s !

' What was i t pr i c k ed t hee on t o t hi s t hy s i n ?

What but des i r e t hat men s houl d k neel and s ay ,

" See— t he gr eat s ai nt

— t he hol y man, wher ei n

Al l f l es hl y l us t s t hat s t i ng our f l es h t o- day

Ar e dead " — Ay ! al l but pr i de, t hat f i nds no way s

Too s har p t o t r ead, t o meet a s i c k wor l d' s pr ai s e.

' And now I k now t hou ar t t oo pr oud t o heed

My v oi c e — t oo hi gh f or me t o r eac h t hee t her e.

Too s mal l a t hi ng i t i s , my hear t ' s gr eat need.

That t hou, my body ' s f r ui t , s houl ds t k now or c ar e ;

Thou, t hat woul ds t s av e t hy s oul and heav en wi n

By s l i ght i ng ear t h, t hat God has s et t hee i n !

Page 11 of 100

EARTH AND HEAVEN

' Ear t h was t hy home, on ear t h t hy dut i es l ay ;

And heaven hves on ear t h, i n dut i es done.

son; Chr i st weeps t o see t hee t ur ned away

Fr om t hat st r ai ght si mpl e way He set t hee on.

Thy soul ? Thy soul ! The devi l woul d not cr ave

That st unt ed cr i ppl ed soul t hou seekst t o save ! '

She ceased. Her body, l i ke a dr oopi ng f l ower ,

Bowed t owar ds ear t h, and she was bor ne away ;

But I — have mer cy, God — f or one mad hour

I mi ght not , woul d not , coul d not , dar ed not pr ay ;

For al l her wor ds shr i eked i n my ear s agai n.

And al l my penances and pr ayer s l ooked vai n.

The r oyal sun i n r obes of gol d had passed

Bel ow t he r ocks and pal m- t r ees i n t he west .

The l ong har d shadow t hat my pi l l ar cast

Gr ew di m and vague. The sense of comi ng r est

Fel l on al l happy l i vi ng t hi ngs, and I

Got st r engt h t o pr ay agai n, and ni ght went by.

Wi t h t he new sun she came once mor e. Her cr y.

St r ong wi t h a ni ght of pr ayer , I woul d not hear .

1 t ur ned my eyes up t o t he bl azi ng sky,

Wr est l i ng i n pr ayer and seal i ng up mi ne ear .

EARTH AND HEAVEN

Yet t her e she st ood al l day and gazed on me ;

For my hear t knew i t , t hough I woul d not see.

Anot her ni ght of pr ayer , anot her day

Of wor ds I woul d not hear t hough my hear t hear d.

And t hen t hat eveni ng, when I hear d men say

' She i s dead ! ' — O God, f or gi ve my f i r st mad wor d —

' God, be my soul damned i n hel l ' s f i er cest pai n,

But gi ve my mot her back t o me agai n ! '

But al l t he peopl e cr owded r ound. I knew

They wai t ed f or t he hol y man t o speak.

What coul d I say t o t hem — what coul d I do

Page 12 of 100

To hi de f r om t hem how wi l dl y f l esh was weak ?

I spoke — and what I sai d I know no mor e —

' Twas not t he t hought s wi t h whi ch my hear t was sor e !

I t hi nk I sai d what ot her men woul d say

I shoul d have sai d — gave t hanks t o God t hat she

Fr om t hi s vi l e wor l d had so been caught away

I nt o t he gl or y wher e I hoped t o be.

And t hi s I sai d t he angui sh t o conceal

I f el t — but f el t t hat i t was si n t o f eel .

EARTH AND HEAVEN

But when t he ni ght had come, t he peopl e gone,

When ' t wi xt t he si l ent ear t h and si l ent sky

I on my pi l l ar was al one — al one

As I must be t i l l l i f e' s l ast ni ght pass by —

The wor l d l ooked bl ack, t he sky was cl oudy gr ay,

And even my pi l l ar seemed t o f ade away.

And onl y I — ' t wi xt heaven and ear t h— was t her e ;

For heaven I coul d not f i nd, and ear t h was l ost .

I seemed t o dr i f t t hr ough chi l l and mi st y ai r ,

I n vague cl oud- dept hs by st or m- wi nds dr i ven and

t ossed,

St i l l f l oat i ng on— l ong ages di d i t seem —

I , mor e a shadow t han man' s l i ght est dr eam —

And st i l l al one. At l ast — t he dar kness r i ven —

A l i ght — a pr esence ! and my whol e soul cr i ed :

' I am l ost , I am l ost ! O God, wher e i s Thy heaven

For whi ch I gave up l ove and al l besi de ?

How shal l I f i nd t he gar den of t he bl est

Wher e Chr i st and al l Hi s angel s f east and r est ? '

And t hen I hear d a voi ce t hat f i l l ed t he ski es,

Most t er r i bl e, most sweet , and answer ed me :

EARTH AND HEAVEN

' Heaven was on ear t h, t he ear t h t hou di dst despi se,

And now f or ever i t i s l ost t o t hee ;

Page 13 of 100

And on t he ear t h Chr i st i s, and on t he ear t h

The l ove t hou hast account ed not hi ng wor t h.

' None f or hi msel f a heaven can wi n or make,

Si nce whoso seeks hi s l i f e hi s l i f e shal l l ose.

He who wi l l l abour f or a sad wor l d' s sake,

And f r ee pur e l i f e r evi l e not nor r ef use,

He i s Chr i st ' s man ; he hat h t he bet t er par t ;

The angel s dwel l f or ever i n hi s hear t .

' " Wher e i s a heaven but on t he ear t h — f or man ?

What ot her l i f e f or man i s t her e but one ?

Heaven, and t he way t o heaven l i e i n t hat span.

Et er nal ar e t he done and t he undone.

Thi ne wer e t he penance, pr ayer , and sun and f r ost ,

Thi ne t he ear t h wast ed, and t he heaven l ost ! '

The vi si on f aded, and I woke t o ear t h ;

The ni ght had f l ed away, t he sky was f ai r

Wi t h l ovel y l i ght s t o gr eet t he new day' s bi r t h ;

They shone upon my pi l l ar hi gh i n ai r .

And on my body, mai med and sear ed, and t hi n

wi t h t he har d penance I have t r ust ed i n.

EARTH AND HEAVEN

I t i s t oo l at e — t oo l at e ! I f t hi s be t r ue,

And al l my l i f e be wr ong, at l east I know

I di d but what I t hought God bade me do.

And went t he way I t hought He bade me go !

' Ti s Sat an t empt s me wi t h t hese dr eams and f ear s.

' Twas he who t empt ed t hr ough my mot her ' s t ear s.

Oh, mot her , i f i t had been ot her wi se!

I t coul d not be — l i f e t hen had been t oo sweet !

How can smoot h pat hways l ead t o Par adi se,

Or heaven be on ear t h, t i r r i e bei ng so f l eet ?

Back, Sat an — I have f ought and won t he f i ght .

Li f e was so har d, i t coul d not but be r i ght !

WI NTER VI OLETS

WI NTER VI OLETS.

To M. O.

Page 14 of 100

Deat h- whi t e azal eas wat ched besi de my bed,

And t r i ed t o t el l me t al es of Sout her n l ands ;

But t hey i n hot house ai r wer e bor n and br ed,

And t hey wer e gat her ed by a st r anger ' s hands :

They wer e not sweet , t hey never had been f r ee.

And al l t hei r pal l i d beaut y had no voi ce f or me.

And al l I l onged f or was one common f l ower

Fed by sof t mi st s and r ai ny Engl i sh ai r ,

A f l ower t hat knew t he woods, t he l eaf l ess bower ,

The wet , gr een moss, t he hedges shar p and bar e—

A f l ower t hat spoke my l anguage, and coul d t el l

Of al l t he woods and ways my hear t r emember s wel l .

Then came your vi ol et s — and at once I hear d

The spar r ows chat t er on t he dr i ppi ng eaves,

WI NTER VI OLETS

The f ul l st r eam' s babbl i ng i nar t i cul at e wor d,

The pl ash of r ai n on bi g wet i vy- l eaves ;

I saw t he woods wher e t hi ck t he dead l eaves l i e,

And smel t t he f r esh ear t h' s scent — t he scent of memor y.

The unl eaf ed t r ees^ t he l i chens gr een ar i d gr ay.

The wi de sad- col our ed meadows, and t he br own

Fi el ds t hat sl eep now, and dr eam of har vest day,

Hi di ng t hei r seeds l i ke hopes i n hear t s pent down —

A t housand dr eams, a t housand memor i es

Your vi ol et s' voi ces br eat hed i n unhear d mel odi es —

Unhear d by al l but me. I hear d, I bl essed

The l i t t l e Engl i sh, Engl i sh- speaki ng t hi ngs

For t hei r sweet sel ves t hat l ai d my wi sh t o r est .

For t hei r sweet hel p t hat l ent my dr eami ng wi ngs ;

And, most of al l , f or al l t he t hought s of you

Whi ch make t hem smel l mor e sweet t han' ot her vi ol et s do.

AMONG HI S BOOKS 13

AMONG HI S BOOKS.

Page 15 of 100

A SI LENT r oom — gr ay wi t h a dust y bl i ght

Of l onehness ;

A r oom wi t h not enough of hf e or l i ght

I t s f or m t o dr ess.

Books enough t hough ! The gr oani ng sof a bear s

A goodl y st or e —

Books on t he wi ndow- seat , and on t he chai r s,

And on t he f l oor .

Books of al l sor t s of soul , al l sor t s of age,

Al l sor t s of f ace —

Bl ack- l et t er , vel l um, and t he f l i msy page

Of commonpl ace.

14 AMONG HI S BOOKS

Al l bi ndi ngs, f r om t he cl ot h whose hue di st r act s

One' s wear y ner ves,

To yel l ow par chment , bi ndi ng r ar e ol d t r act s

I t ser ves — deser ves.

Books on t he shel ves, and i n t he cupboar d books.

Wor t hl ess and r ar e —

Books on t he mant el pi ece — wher e' er one l ooks

Books ever ywher e !

Books ! books ! t he onl y t hi ngs i n l i f e I f i nd

Not whol l y vai n.

Books i n my hands — books i n my hear t enshr i ned-

Books i n my br ai n.

My f r i ends ar e t hey : f or chi l dr en and f or wi f e

They ser ve me t oo ;

For t hese al one, of al l dear t hi ngs i n l i f e,

Have I f ound t r ue.

They do not f l at t er , change, deny, decei ve—

Ah no — not t hey !

The same edi t i ons whi ch one ni ght you l eave

You f i nd next day.

AMONG HI S BOOKS 15

Page 16 of 100

_^ __f

You don' t f i nd r ai l way novel s wher e you l ef t

Your El zevi r s !

Your Al di nes don' t bet r ay you — l eave ber ef t

Your l onel y year s !

And yet t hi s common book of Common Pr ayer

My hear t pr ef er s,

Because t he names upon t he f l y- l eaf t her e

Ar e mi ne and her s.

I t ' s a dead f l ower t hat makes i t open so —

For get - me- not —

The Mar r i age Ser vi ce . . . wel l , my dear , you know

Who f i r st f or got .

Those wer e t he days when i n t he choi r we t wo

Sat — used t o si ng —

When I bel i eved i n God, i n l ove, i n you —

I n ever yt hi ng.

Thr ough qui et l anes t o chur ch we used t o come,

Happy and good.

Cl asp hands t hr ough ser mon, and go sl owl y home

Down t hr ough t he wood.

i 6 AMONG HI S BOOKS

Ki sses ? A cer t ai n yel l ow r ose no dqubt

That por ch st i l l shows,

Whenever I hear ki sses t al ked about

I smel l t hat r ose !

No — I don' t bl ame you — si nce you onl y pr oved

My choi ce unwi se,

And t aught me books shoul d t r ust ed be and l oved,

Not l i ps and eyes !

And so I keep your book — your f l ower — t o show

How much I car e

For t he dear memor y of what , you know,

You never wer e.

Page 17 of 100

A YEAR' S- COMEDY j y

A YEAR' S COMEDY.

' TwAS Apr i l , when t he br own bi r ds, si r ^

And woods wi t h bur st i ng buds ar e gr ay,

We sat and wat ched t he f ace of Spr i ng

Gr owi ng mor e l ovel y ever y day j

But er e t he woods wer e gr een, or hal f

The bl ue eggs hat ched, one sunny mor ni ng

We f ound t hat we wer e made t o l augh —

You at my l ove, I at your scor ni ng.

When Summer wi t h her r ose abl aze

Passed over al l t he t r anced ear t h,

We f ound t he sumpt uous bur ni ng days

Too st at el y f or such t r i vi al mi r t h ;

And er e Jul y had wel l passed by

We f el l i n l ove wi t h mel anchol y.

And vowed t hat we wer e made t o si gh —

I at my woe, you at my f ol l y.

c

A YEAR' S COMEDY

We wal ked among t he beech- l eaves br own

When Aut umn cr owned t he hi l l s wi t h gol d.

And as t he l eaves came dr i f t i ng down

Love' s st or y, needl essl y, was t ol d.

Sept ember ' s sun was gol d above

The f ul l ear t h' s f r ui t f ul gol den dower ;

We f el t t hat we wer e made t o l ove —

I t o l ove you, and you your power .

But when by pat hs made st i l l wi t h snow,

By gr ay- br own, l i chen- cover ed t r ees,

One happy day we chanced t o go

Under bl ue sky and bi t i ng br eeze,

You sl i pped, I t ur ned ; a hand t o gi ve,

A hand t o ki ss — t he pl ay was over !

We knew t hat we wer e made t o l i ve —

Page 18 of 100

I f or my l ove you f or your l over .

A DEFENCE i g

A DEFENCE.

To S. W.

A SI NGER si ngs of r i ght s and wr ongs —

Of wor l d' s i deal s vast and br i ght ,

And f eel s t he i mpot ence of songs

To scour ge t he wr ong or hel p t he r i ght ,

And i nl y wr i t hes t o f eel how vai n

Ar e songs as weapons f or hi s i i ght ;

And so he t ur ns t o l ove agai n

And si ngs of l ove f or hear t ' s del i ght .

For hear t ' s del i ght t he si nger s bi nd

The wr eat h of r oses r ound t he head.

And wi l l not l oose i t l est t hey f i nd

Ti me vi ct or , and t he r oses dead.

' Man can but si ng of what he knows —

I saw t he r oses f r esh and r ed ! '

And so t hey si ng t he deat hl ess r ose.

Wi t h wi t her ed r oses gar l anded.

A DEFENCE

And some wi t hi n t hei r bosom hi de

Thei r r ose of l ove st Ul f r esh and f ai r ,

And wal k i n si l ence, sat i sf i ed

To keep i t s f ol ded f r agr ance r ar e.

And some — who bear a f l ag unf ur l ed —

Wr eat he wi t h t hei r r ose t he f l ag t hey bear ,

And si ng t hei r banner f or t he wor l d.

And, f or t hei r hear t , t he r oses t her e.

Yet t hus much choi ce i n si ngi ng i s :

We si ng t he good — ^ t he t r ue — t he j ust ,

Passi onat e dut y t ur ned t o bl i ss,

And honour gr owi ng out of t r ust ;

Fr eedom we si ng, and woul d not l ose

Page 19 of 100

Her l i ght est f oot pr i nt i n l i f e' s dust .

AVe - si ng of her because we choose —

We si ng of l ove because we must !

MORNI NG SONG

MORNI NG SONG.

Baby dar l i ng, wake and see,

Mor ni ng' s her e, my l i t t l e r ose ;

Open eyes and smi l e at me

Er e I cl asp and ki ss you cl ose.

Baby dar l i ng, smi l e ! f or t hen

Mot her sees t he sun agai n.

Baby dar l i ng, sl eep no mor e !

Al l t he ot her f l ower s have done

Wi t h t hei r sl eepi ng — you, my f l ower ,

Ar e t he onl y sl eepy one ;

Al l t he pi nk- f r i l l ed dai si es shout ;

' Br i ng our l i t t l e si st er out ! '

Baby dar l i ng, i n t he sun

Bi r ds ar e si ngi ng, sweet and shr i l l ;

And my bi r d' s t he onl y one

That i s nest ed sof t l y st i l l .

Baby — i f you onl y knew.

Al l t he bi r ds ar e cal l i ng you !

MORNI NG SONG

Baby dar l i ng, al l i s br i ght ,

God has br ought t he sunshi ne her e ;

And t he sl eepy si l ent ni ght

Comes back soon enough, my dear !

Wake, my dar l i ng, ni ght i s done,

Sunbeams cal l my l i t t l e one !

EVENI NG SONG 23

EVENI NG SONG.

Sl eep sof t , my baby, al l t he wor l d

Sl eeps now, as you t oo shoul d be sl eepi ng

Page 20 of 100

The sheep ar e st i l l , t he cat t l e r est ,

Long si nce day sl umber ed i n t he west ,

The sl eepy dai sy buds ar e cur l ed

On l awns wher e gl ow- wor ms gr een ar e cr eepi ng.

Baby, sl eep sof t — I sof t l y go

And l eave you sof t l y, sof t l y sl eepi ng ;

Wr apped i n my l ove I l eave you her e

And, si ngi ng ver y sof t l y, dear ,

I si t besi de t he l amp and sew

And know you saf e, i n l ove' s saf e keepi ng.

Baby sl eep sof t —I do not f ear

To l eave you her e — f or al l t hi ngs l ove you ;

The wi nd goes whi sper i ng l ul l abyes,

And al l sweet dr eams have ki ssed your eyes ;

Whi t e wi ngs l i ght al l t he dar kness her e,

And al l God' s st ar s keep wat ch above you !

24 THE DEAD MOTHER

THE DEAD MOTHER.

Si nce you wer e t i r ed and went away

We' ve br ought you f l ower s ever y day ;

Now t hr ough your gr ass Hve dai si es peer ,

O mot her , mot her dear !

You used t o l i st en ever y day

To ever yt hi ng we had t o say;

But now we t hi nk you do not hear ,

O mot her , mot her dear !

They say you ar e not ver y f ar —

But , si nce we cr y, we know you ar e ;

We shoul d not cr y i f you wer e near ,

O mot her , mot her dear !

Mot her — you know we somet i mes cr y

I n t he dar k ni ght , we don' t know why ;

You woul d not l et us cr y f or f ear ,

O mot her , mot her dear !

THE DEAD MOTHER 25

We t hi nk per haps you di d not know

Your l i t t l e chi l dr en l oved you so,

Or you woul d not have l ef t t hem her e,

O mot her , mot her dear !

I f we ar e good we t hi nk t hat t hen

Per haps you wi l l come back agai n ;

Come i n a week — a mont h — a year —

O mot her , mot her dear !

Page 21 of 100

O mot her , mot her , come t o- day!

Why di d you ever go away ?

We ar e so t i r ed of bei ng her e

Wi t hout you, mot her dear !

26 TI VO LI VES

TWO LI VES.

One st ood wi t h hi s f ace t o t he l i ght ;

He hel d a scept r e of song

That r ul ed men' s soul s t i l l t hey st r ove t o t he r i ght ,

And set t hei r f eet on t he wr ong.

' I am but a sl ave, ' he sai d,

' The ser vant of man am I ,

To si ng of t he l i f e t hat i s mor e t han br ead.

And t he deat hs t hat ar e l i f e t o di e.

' And t he mi ght of my song shal l sway

The mi l l i ons who si t i n shame.

Ti l l t hey cast t hei r i dol s of gol d away,

And wor shi p t he t r ue God' s name. '

TWO LI VES 27

So he sang, and t he nat i ons hear d

Thr ough t hei r dr unken sl eep of year s,

And t hei r Hmbs i n t hei r gol den f et t er s st i r r ed

As he sang t o t hei r dr owsy ear s.

Hope woke, i n her spel l bound bower s,

And gave heed t o each cl ear keen wor d.

Ti l l Love l ooked out f r om a net of f l ower s.

And cal l ed t o hi s hear t — and he hear d.

And hi s song r ose hi gher , mor e sweet .

As hi s dr eams r ose mor e sweet , mor e hi gh :

' ' Ti s Love shal l ai d me, and shal l compl et e

The spel l I shal l conquer by !

We t wo t o men' s soi i l s wi l l si ng,

Page 22 of 100

And t he wor k shal l be our s, be our s ;

Toget her wel come t he t hor ns t hat br i ng

Mor e f r ui t t han t he sweet est f l ower s ! '

But t he woman he l oved sai d ' No !

To me al l your soul i s due,

Can I shar e wi t h a wor l d, what ever i t s woe,

My hear t ' s one t r easur e, you?

28 TWO LI VES

' Ther e ar e pl ent y t o si ng of t he r i ght

And gi ve t hei r l i ves f or t he t r ut h —

But you ar e mi ne, and shal l si ng del i ght ,

And beaut y, and l ove, and yout h.

' For t hese ar e t he songs men l ove,

These st i r t hei r dul l br ai ns hke wi ne.

They hat e t he songs you wer e pr oudest of

I n t he days when you wer e not mi ne.

' And i f f or t he wor l d you si ng

I t wi l l pay you wi t h f ame and gol d.

And t he f ame and t he gol d t o me you shal l br i ng

For my hear t and my hands t o hol d.

' Besi des — what st eads i t t o t r y.

One man agai nst al l t he r est ?

Let t he wor l d and i t s r i ght s and i t s wr ongs go by.

And hi de your eyes on my br east ! '

Then t he man bowed down hi s head

And she cr owned hi m wi t h r oses sweet ;

And he l abour ed t or f ame and br ead,

And l ai d hi s wage at her f eet .

TWO LI VES 29

And t he mi l l i ons who st ar ve and si n,

He shut t hem out of hi s l i f e

Wher e she was al one shut i n —

Hi s r ui n, hi s pr i ze, hi s wi f e.

And al l t hat he mi ght have been,

And al l t hat he mi ght have done,

Page 23 of 100

These l i e wi t h t he t hi ngs t hat shal l not be seen

For ever under t he sun.

Hi s chi l dr en pl ay r ound hi s knee,

But he si ghs as t hey come and go —

For t hey speak of vi si ons he cannot see,

I n a t ongue t hat he used t o know.

He si ngs of l ove and of f l ower s.

And f or get s what t hey used t o mean

For gol d i s l or d of hi s empt y hour s.

And f ame of hi s soul i s queen.

And t he woman has l ong possessed

What she bade hi m wi n f or her sake ;

But she hol ds wi t h t he gol d accur st unr est .

And t he f ame wi t h a wi l d hear t - ache.

30 TWO LI VES

For t he l i ght i n her eyes i s di m,

Or di m ar e hi s eyes t hat gaze.

Ther e i s no l i ght t hat can l i ght f or hi m

The gl oom of hi s sor di d days.

He wi l l di e, and hi s name be enr ol l ed

Wher e mar bl e makes mock of cl ay ;

( Oh, t he pi t i f ul cl ay, made br ave wi t h gol d ! )

And t her e l et i t r ot away !

I I .

One st ood i n t he way of l i f e

And sai d : ' I wi l l ser ve and st r i ve

And never wear y of st r i f e

For j ust so l ong as I hve.

' The sum of ser vi ce I ' m wor t h

I swear i t , beyond r ecal l ,

To t he mot her of al l , t he ear t h,

To men, t he br ot her s of al l .

TWO LI VES 31

Page 24 of 100

' I have no voi ce f or a song,

No t r umpet nor l yr e i s mi ne,

But my swor d i s shar p, and my ar m i s st r ong :

Li ber t y ! t hese ar e t hi ne ! '

So he f ol l owed wher e hi gh hopes l ed.

And he paused not f or bl ame or pr ai se.

But ever r ej oi ced t o t r ead

The r oughest and r i ght est ways.

He scor ned ambi t i ons and power s.

Del i ght was t o hi m but a wor d,

Ti l l Love l ooked out f r om a br ake of f l ower s

And cal l ed t o hi s hear t , and he hear d.

Then t he man' s whol e soul cr i ed sor e :

' I am t i r ed of pat i ence and pai n !

What i f t he l i ght s t hat have gone bef or e

Shoul d be but vi si ons and vai n ?

' Why shoul d my yout h be spent

I n f ol l owi ng a mar sh- l i ght ' s gl eam ?

Why shoul d my manhood be cont ent

Wi t h what may be but a dr eam ?

32 TWO LI VES

' The swor d I am used t o wi el d

I s as much as my hands can hol d,

I wi l l t ur n asi de f r om t he bat t l e- f i el d

To t he f i el ds wher e men gat her gol d.

' For whi l e I car r y t he swor d

I can hol d nei t her gol d nor you —

And t he swor d i s heavy, and your l east wor d

I s musi c my l i f e si ngs t o ! '

But t he woman who l oved hi m spake,

She spake br ave wor ds wi t h a si gh —

' Rat her t han dr op t he. swor d f or my sake

Tur n i t s poi nt t o your hear t and di e !

' I t i s bet t er t o di e t han l i ve

I f f i f e means not hi ng but gr eed

To cl ut ch t he gi f t s t hat t he wor l d can gi ve

And t ur n your back on i t s need.

Page 25 of 100

' And I have my l i f e- wor k t oo,

A banner t o bear have I ;

Shal l my f l ag be dr agged i n t he dust by you,

Who shoul d hel p me t o hol d i t hi gh ?

7W0 LI VES 33

' Har d l ooks l i f e' s ever y l i ne

When t he col our s of l ove ar e ef f aced,

But deat h woul d be har der , O hear t of mi ne,

Af t er a l i f e di sgr aced !

' And what t hough we never see

Sweet Love' s sweet f r ui t at i t s best ;

My chi l dr en' s pl ay at your knee.

Your baby' s sl eep at my br east ?

' Onl y one l i f e i s our s —

Shal l we di e wi t h no wor l d' s wor k done,

Havi ng cover ed our shame wi t h f l ower s,

And shr unk f r om si ght of t he sun ?

* No ! Be t he swor d f or hi m.

Banner of l i ght f or me —

Voi ce at t he hear t when t he eyes gr ow di m,

" Li ber t y ! Thi s f or t hee ! " '

Then he bowed hi m l ow at her knees,

And she gave hi m t he t hor ny cr own

Whi ch whoso wear s knows no r est nor ease

Ti l l Deat h bi ds hi m l ay i t down.

34

TPyO LI VES

And t hey t ur ned, and t hey p ^ ssed away

To par t i ng, and l ongi ng, and t ear s ,

To c ar r y t he s wor d and t he f l ag al way

Thr ough t he c ol d c l ean des ol at e y ear s .

To wor k f or t he wor l d, and t o hear

When t he l ong r ac e near l y i s r un.

Page 26 of 100

Li ke a voi ce i n a dr eam, a voi ce most dear ,

' Fai t hf ul and good, wel l done! '

And no man r emember s hi s name.

Nor her s, who was never hi s wi f e.

Thei r names ar e wr i t t en i n l et t er s of f l ame

I n t he book of et er nal l i f e.

MARCHI NG SONG

3S

MARCHI NG SONG.

' O WHEREFORE do ye st and, a st er n and st eadf ast band,

Wi t h your f eet upon t he pat hway whence f ame has t ur ned

away ? '

We hunger not f or f ame, nor heed wor l d' s pr ai se or bl ame,

Si nce f ame and honour par t ed t hi s many many a day!

' What col our do ye wear — what banner do ye bear

When you t ur n your f aces f i ght war ds, and make your

weapons keen ? '

Our banner ' s f ol ds ar e r ed as our bl ood, whi ch we wi l l

shed

Er e t hat agai n be suf f er ed, whi ch her et of or e has been !

' Whom, t hen, do ye bef r i end, whose cause do ye def end —

Ar e t her e any need such champi ons and f i ght i ng men as

ye?'

Our ar ms and hear t s ar e st r ong, f or al l who suf f er wr ong.

And a wor l d of woe can wi t ness how many such t her e be !

36 MARCHI NG SONG

' But t he gol den cal f st ands hi gh, and al l i t s pr i est s wi l l cr y,

" Ye ar e her et i cs and out cast s i f ye wor shi p not as we " ! '

' Ti s our onl y boast t o- day t hat we wor shi p not as t hey.

And t o t hei r cur sed i dol wi l l never bow t he knee !

' What do ye hope t o gai n by al l your st r i f e and st r ai n ?

Ye wi l l wi n your sel ves but bi t t er ness, and bal e, and bane,

and ban. '

Though we wi n al l t hese and mor e, t hey out shi ne your

gol den st or e

I f t hey pr ove us unf or get t i ng of t he Br ot her hood of Man !

' What ar mi es f i ght f or you, O ye who ar e so f ew,

Page 27 of 100

O ye who ar e so f ew i n a wor l d t hat i s so wi de ? '

The Spi r i t s of t he Li ght shal l do bat t l e f or t he Ri ght —

And who shal l be agai nst us, i f t hese be on our si de ?

DEAD LEAVES 37

DEAD LEAVES.

Not Summer ' s cr own of scent t he r ed r ose weaves,

Not hawt hor n per f ume bl own o' er bl oom- st r ewn gr ass,

Not vi ol et s' whi sper s as t h6 chi l dr en pass,

Nor new- mown hay, cr i sp scent of yel l ow sheaves.

Nor hl ac per f ume i n t he sof t May eves,

Nor any scent t hat Spr i ngt i me can amass,

Or Summer squander , such a magi c has

As scent of f r esh wet ear t h and f al l en l eaves.

For somet i mes l over s, i n November days.

When ear t h i s gr i evi ng f or t he vani shed sun.

Have t r od dead l eaves i n chi l l and wi nt r y ways.

And ki ssed and dr eamed et er nal summer won.

Look back, l ook back! t hr ough memor y' s deepeni ng haze,

See — t wo who dr eamed t hat dr eam, and you wer e one!

38 AT THE GATE OF EDEbT

AT THE GATE OF EDEN.

Dear , so l ong t hr ough dusk or l i ght

We have wal ked l i f e' s ways t oget her ,

Hol di ng cl ose when sun was br i ght ,

Cl oser st i l l i n cl oudy weat her :

Bl i nd wi t h use, you har dl y know

What i t i s t hat bi nds us so.

Just our cl aspi ng hands, my dear ,

That cl i ng cl ose t o one anot her .

These have Hnked us year by year .

And t hese f et t er s, and no ot her .

Bi nd us now — f or good or i l l

We ar e j oi ned but by our wi l l .

For our ol d l ove' s sake — hol d f ast ,

Ti ght l y cl asp — r el axi ng never ;

Page 28 of 100

AT THE GATE OF EDEN 39

Hol d wi t h me, our hear t - war m past

Loosed but once, ' t i s l ost f or ever :

Then wi l l r ush ' t wi xt you and me

Al l t he waves of al l t he sea.

Once di vi ded so, we may

St r i ve our l i ves l ong, vai nl y, vai nl y,

To out f ace t he sur ge and spr ay.

Touch, and see each ot her pl ai nl y :

Not hi ng done can be undone

Whi l e t he ear t h spi ns r ound t he sun !

I my ar ms may open wi de,

You may nest l e i n my br east

Sat ed but unsat i sf i ed,

Unpossessi ng, unpossessed :

Knowi ng t hat bet ween our soul s

Al l t hi s sea of par t i ng r ol l s.

Then r egr et wi l l eat our hear t .

Ti l l despai r devour s r egr et .

Knowi ng we ar e mor e apar t

Than bef or e we ever met :

40 AT THE GATE OF EDEN

Most di vi ded by t hat past ,

Whet ) we hel d each ot her f ast .

We shal l si gh, when si ghs ar e vai n,

' O, l ost days t hat woul d not l i nger ! '

You wi l l r ul e your wor l d agai n,

I shal l si ng — a soul l ess si nger :

Each wi l l l ook wi t h l ongi ng eyes

On our f or egone par adi se.

Par adi se, wher e now we st and.

Once l ost , not hi ng can r et r i eve i t ;

St i l l we hol d i t — hand i n hand.

Must we l ose i t ? Need we l eave i t ?

I t i s our s, my sweet , t o- day ;

Shal l we go, or shal l we st ay ?

Page 29 of 100

BEWI TCHED 41

BEWI TCHED.

At t r act ed, r epel l ed, and hear t - si ckened

By r hyt hmi c del i ght and di sdai n.

Succeedi ng each ot her l i ke wave- beat s

On t he st or m- br oken shor e of my br ai n —

I hat e you unt i l we ar e par t ed.

And ache t i l l I meet you agai n !

I woul d gi ve up my hopes, ah ! how gl adl y,

I f I coul d t ake your s, you my par t —

I woul d gi ve up my soul f or your l ovi ng^

I woul d gi ve up my l i f e f or your hear t ;

Dr op by dr op I woul d dr ai n al l my bl ood out ,

I f each dr op f el l on you as a smar t .

I desi r e you, despi se you, deny you,

Am f al se t o mysel f and t o you,

42 BEWI TCHED

I am f al se t o t he gods t hat I wor shi p,

And coul d I , I woul d not be t r ae.

To hel p you, or hur t you, or hol d you.

Ther e i s not hi ng your f ool woul d not do !

For t he dept hs of t he ni ght and t he si l ence.

Ar e al i ve wi t h your dar k mal i gn f ace :

Your voi ce dr owns al l sol i t ude' s voi ces,

And your eyes — oh, your eyes ! — ar e al l space ;

And your sel f i s t he heaven of my dr eami ng —

And t he hel l of my waki ng — di sgr ace.

You ar e Fat e, you ar e l ove, you ar e l ongi ng,

You ar e musi c, and r oses, and wi ne,

You ar e devi l , and man, and my l over .

You ar e hat ef ul l y mi ne and not mi ne.

You ar e al l t hat ' s i nf er nal i n l ovi ng.

And al l t hat i n hat e i s di vi ne.

I f r ai si ng a hand woul d ef f ace you.

Ah ! t r ust me, a hand shoul d be r ai sed !

Ah ! had I t he t ongue t hat coul d st i ng you,

Who t oo l ong and t oo wel l have been pr ai sed !

Page 30 of 100

Coul d I ki ndl e t he f i r e i n your bei ng.

That on my l i f e' s r ui n has bl azed !

BEWI TCHED 43

I hat e you, but hat e you t oo l i t t l e,

You l ove me, but l ove not enough,

And your l ove, whi ch I never shal l qui cken

To a madness l i ke mi ne, i s pal e st uf f

For a st ar , yet you see how i t l eads me.

Wher e t he way i s unl ovel y and r ough.

And al l woul d be not hi ng t o suf f er ,

I f once at my f eet you coul d l i e,

And of f er your soul f or my l ovi ng —

Coul d I know t hat your wor l d was j ust I —

And coul d l augh i n your eyes and r ef use you.

And l ove you and hat e you and di e !

44 THE KI SS

THE KI SS.

The snow i s whi t e on wood and wol d,

The wi nd i s i n t he f i r s,

So dead my hear t i s wi t h t he col d,

No pul se wi t hi n i t st i r s,

Even t o see your f ace, my dear .

Your f ace t hat was my sun ;

Ther e i s no Spr i ng t hi s bi t t er year ,

And Summer ' s dr eams ar e done.

The snakes t hat l i e about my hear t

Ar e i n t hei r wi nt r y sl eep ;

Thei r f angs no mor e deal st i ng and smar t ,

No mor e t hey cur l and cr eep.

Love wi t h t he summer ceased t o be ;

The f r ost i s f i r m and f ast .

God, keep t he summer f ar f r om me.

And l et t he snakes' sl eep l ast !

Page 31 of 100

THE KI SS 45

Touch of your hand coul d not suf f i ce

To waken t hem once mor e ;

Nor coul d t he sunshi ne of your eyes

A r ui ned Spr i ng r est or e.

But ah — your l i ps ! You know t he r est :

The snows ar e summer r ai n,

My eyes ar e wet , and i n my br east

The snakes' f angs meet agai n.

46 UNDER CONVOY

UNDER CONVOY.

Too many t he quest i ons, t oo subt l e

The doubt s t hat bewi l der my br ai n !

Too st r ong i s t he st r engt h of ol d cust om

For i r on convent i on' s col d r ei gn

Too doubt f ul t he i ssue of conf l i ct ,

Too l eaf l ess t he cr own and t oo vai n !

Dr i ven bl i ndl y by wi nd and by cur r ent .

Too weak t o be st r ong as I woul d.

Too good t o be bad as my pr ompt i ngs.

Too bad t o be val ued as good,

I woul d do t he wor k t hat I cannot —

And wi l l not , t he wor k t hat I coul d.

As a swi mmer al one i n mi d- ocean

Br east s wave af t er gr een wave, unt i l

UNDER CONVOY 47

He sees t he hor i zon unbr oken

By any coast - l i ne — so I st i l l

Swam bl i ndl y t hr ough l i f e, not per cei vi ng

The i nf i ni t e st r et ch of l i f e' s i l l .

But wave af t er wave cr owds upon me —

I am t i r ed, I can f ace t hem no mor e —

Let me si nk — or not si nk — you r ecei ve me,

Page 32 of 100

And I r est i n your ar ms as bef or e,

Whi ch wer e wai t i ng, O Love, t o r ecei ve me,

Ful f i l l i ng t he t r ot h t hat you swor e.

And so you ar e l ef t me— what mat t er s

Of Fr eedom, or Dut y, or Ri ght ?

Let my chance of a l i f e- wor k be ended.

End my chance of a soul ' s wor t hy f i ght !

End my chance t o oppose^ ah, how vai nl y ! —

Vast wr ong wi t h i t s mass and i t s mi ght !

Hol d me f ast — ki ss ni e cl ose — and per suade me

' Ti s bet t er t o l ean upon you

Than t o pl ay out my par t unsuppor t ed.

My shar e i n t he wor l d' s wor k t o do.

' Ti s bet t er be saf e and i gnobl e

Than be f r ee, and be wr et ched, and t r ue.

48 UNDER CONVOY

And you t hi nk t hat you of f er a haven,

As you do, f or t he st or m- bl own and t ossed.

And you know not how under your ki sses

The soul of me shr i nks and i s l ost :

And you save me my ease as a woman,

— And t he l i f e of a soul i s t he cost !

TORCH- BEARERS 49

TOR CH- BEARERS.

Dar k i s t he ni ght ; and t hr ough i t s haunt ed shadows

We bhndl y gr ope and st umbl e — somet i mes f al l ;

No st ar i s near enough t o l i ght t he dar kness,

And pr i est - l i t t aper s cast no l i ght at al l ,

Save such a f eebl e and del usi ve gl i mmer

As ni ght - l amps cast upon a si ck- r oom wal l .

Yet , each a t or ch we bear — l i t or unl i ght ed ;

Bur ni ng f or sel f i t i s a mar sh- l i ght ' s gl eam ;

Ki ndl ed f or ot her s ' t i s t he chi l d of sunl i ght .

And dar kness shr i nks t hr ough t wi l i ght at i t s beam.

^Ver e each t or ch dul y l i t , O wor l d l ong dar kened,

How woul d you bear t he sudden l i ght supr eme ?

Page 33 of 100

Vague dr eams and vai n ! See, t hou who i dl y dr eamest

Of what woul d be i f ever y t or ch wer e l i t .

See wher e t hi ne own smoul der s a wast ed ember ,

Thy t or ch — f or nobl est uses f r amed and f i t .

Li ght t hi ne own t or ch — and hol d i t t o t hy br ot her ,

And hi s shal l ki ndl e at t he f l ame of i t .

50 TREASON

TREASON.

I HAVE l oved hi m al l my l i f e, si nce l i f e had a meani ng

at al l ,

I l oved hi m, I t hi nk, i n my hear t , bef or e ever t he sound

of hi s name

Ran t hr ough our st udent - r anks wi t h t he l i ght and t he

speed of a f l ame.

He was my her o ; I I pved hi m f or al l t hat he had gone

t hr ough,

For al l he had dar ed t o be, f or al l he had dar ed t o do ;

For al l he had sai d and suf f er ed, f or al l he had f el t and

known.

And t he f i r e i n hi s soul was t he same t hat l i t t he di m

l amp of my own.

O my her o ! my man who i s al l t hat I f ai n woul d be,

The per f ect pi ct ur e whose out l i ne i s t r aced so r udel y i n

me !

TREASON 51

He has t r odden t he pat h I t r od when I deemed mysel f

l one i n t he way ;

He has st r i ven, as I , t hr ough t he ni ght ; he has dr eamed,

as I , of t he day ;

One f ai t h i n one f at e has l ed t he f eet of us, l onel y,

apar t ;

One i nf i ni t e exqui si t e hope f i l l ed t he voi d i n hi s hear t —

i n my hear t ;

And by desol at e wear yf ul ways we have j our neyed at l ast

Page 34 of 100

t o t hi s pl ace,

And he has not hear d my name, and I have not seen hi s .

f ace.

Love needs no si ght of hi s f ace : I know what hi s f ace

wi l l be —

The gl ass t hat t he soul l ooks t hr ough— t he soul t hat i s

one wi t h me.

A Chr i st , who has bor ne our sor r ows, uphel d by a f or ce

di vi ne ?

Gi ve me t he man of my nat ur e, whose soul has been, t or n

l i ke mi ne,

Who, st r ong i n hi s human weakness, out of t he dept hs

has passed ;

He i s mysel f as I woul d be ! And now I shal l see hi m

at l ast !

E 2

52 TREASON

Li f e has been har d. So i t seems, when one t r i es t o t el l

how i t sped,

A l i f e made empt y wi t h l osses, and col d as t he l i ps of t he

dead !

But t o l i ve, i t has not been har d, bei ng f i l l ed wi t h

undyi ng desi r e ;

And what i s one' s l i f e but f uel , t o f eed t he i mmor t al f i r e ?

And what i s one l i f e t o gi ve — t hough one gi ves i t t he

har dest way —

For t he sake of t he spl endi d f ai t h t hat l i ght ens our ni ght

of t o- day?

O f or a t housand l i ves, t o l i ve out t o t he l ast sad

br eat h !

f or a mi l l i on chances t o agoni se even t o deat h !

The har dest t hi ng i n Uf e i s t o know t hat l i f e i s so smal l ,

So wor t hl ess a t hi ng t o gi ve, t hough one' s whol e soul

gi ves i t al l !

1 was bor n i n a t wi l i ght wor l d, wher e t he wr ong l ooks one

wi t h t he r i ght

But I passed t hr ough t he shadow of deat h, and my soul

came i nt o t he l i ght .

How di d i t f i r st begi n — t hi s hope t hat gi ves l i f e i t s

wor t h ?

Page 35 of 100

TREASON 53

How does t he Spr i ng begi n i n t he br east of t he l ongi ng

ear t h ?

The seeds ar e at wor k, at wor k, unseen of t hei r mast er ,

t he sun,

Ti l l t hey pi er ce t hr ough t he heavy moul d, and behol d !

t he Spr i ng i s begun.

So bl i ndl y at wor k i n my soul t he seeds of t he new hope

wer e,

Ti l l t he sun of Fr eedom dr ew t hem t o bud and bl ossom

and bear .

' I have but one l i f e, ' I sai d, ' and I know wher e t hat l i f e

i s due ;

O peopl e, oppr essed and t r ampl ed, I owe i t , I pay i t , t o

you ! '

For t he cor e of t he t hi ng i s t hi s, t hough f ew per cei ve i t

as yet —

We owe t he l abour i ng peopl e a gr eat unbear abl e debt .

The debt of al l t hat we ar e, and al l we ar e not , we

owe

To t he peopl e who t oi l ed unknowi ng, t hat we unt oi l i ng

may know :

Our knowl edge, our st r engt h, our soul , our ver y body and

bl ood,

54 TREASON

We owe t o t hese who have made us, shaped us f or i l l or

good,

And t o t hem shal l t he debt be pai d ; and al l t hat t hey

gave I wi l l spend

For t hem. They have nour i shed me. They shal l f i nd t hey

have nour i shed a f r i end !

A f r i end ? I wi l l be t he peopl e, one hear t and one soul

wi t h t hese.

Who have l i ved har d l i ves and bi t t er , t o gi ve me a l i f e of

Page 36 of 100

saBf e

Thei r cause and my cause ar e one, and my cause and

t hei r cause ar e hi s.

Who gave up hi s yout h t o t eachi ng t he peopl e t he t hi ng

t hat i s.

And he wi l l come her e. I shal l show hi m my hear t , he

wi l l show me hi s hear t .

The wor l d shal l see t wo men t oget her ar e mor e t han t wo

men ar e apar t .

For t hi s i s t he Hol y Spi r i t , t he uni on of men f or t he

r i ght ,

The maker and gi ver of l i f e, t he soul and spi r i t of l i ght .

THEASON 55

I I .

I t i s not t hat he i s not al l I dr eamed

— O, mor e t han al l I ever dar ed t o dr eam :

I t i s not t hat t he spl endour t hat he seemed

I s dwar f ed by near ness t o a t awdr y gl eam :

I t i s not t hat I am not gl ad, and f i l l ed

Wi t h wi ne of j oy hi s pr esence has di st i l l ed ; —

I t i s a f ool i sh f ever of t he soul

That bur ns and shi ver s, and wi l l not be st i l l ed.

I t i s not doubt ! Doubt ! when my ever y t hought

Commends hi m t hat hi s i s not ot her wi se.

Each wor d of hi s wi t h f er vent f or ce i s f r aught ,

And t he wor l d' s l i ght i s i n hi s ear nest eyes,

And at t he moment when he spoke my name

Our nat ur es met and bl ended — f l ame i n f l ame !

Hi s was my yout h, and mi ne hi s l ar ger vi ew

— Hi s sur er vi si on and mor e per f ect ai m.

I t i s not f ear nor sadness nor unr est

That f r et s my soul and gnaws per pet ual l y;

I s i t a doubt i f I who gi ve my best

Remai n hi s debt or st i l l t oo ut t er l y ?

56 TREASON

Page 37 of 100

No — I gi ve al l — and know t hat i n hi s eyes

The l ovi ng hear t best decks t he sacr i f i ce ;

And my poor al l — wi t h al l my hear t t hus gi ven-

For al l he needs f r om me, shal l wel l suf i Bce !

St ay — her e ' s hi s st or y. Nobl e, r i ch, and young,

Lear ned, as t he young ar e l ear ned, i n books, not

men —

Wi t h yout h' s gr eat - smal l ambi t i ons he had st r ung

Li f e' s har p t hat gave hi m musi c back agai n —

The musi c t hat i s sweet est t o man' s ear .

Unt i l t hat ot her song he comes t o hear .

The har mony of vi si ons, and he knows

No ot her musi c ever can be dear .

He hear d t he heavenl y song, and t hen he knew

How, hst eni ng f or i t s echo i n hi s l i f e.

He t oo must l ear n and l abour , l i ve and do —

Thr ough pat i ent wai t i ng, and gl ad easy st r i f e.

He t r od t he qui et , bi t t er , cr uel way.

Wor ked pat i ent l y f or many a wear y day

Among sad br ot her s si ck wi t h sor di d car es.

Ti l l Ti me shoul d gi ve hi m l eave t o say hi s say.

TREASON 57

Two year s of weeks of days of har d dul l t oi l !

Wi t h no sweet r est f ul speech t o l i ght en i t :

One i n a wor kshop — one upon t he soi l ;

And t hen i t seemed t he t i me was r i pe and f i t .

He spoke — men l i st ened, and hi s voi ce and eyes

Tur ned sl aves t o men — made pat r i ot s out of spi es,

And, as spr eads wat er over l evel l and,

Hi s spi r i t spr ead o' er men, t o make t hem wi se.

And hope spr ang up, t hr ough t angl ed gr owt h of f ear s,

And spl endi d dr eams l i t up t he ni ght l i ke st ar s,

Maki ng wi l d r ai nbows t hr ough men' s l i f el ong t ear s

That mocked t he st r engt h of t yr ant s' pr i son- bar s;

And Li ber t y f l ung gl or y over shame,

And wal ked besi de men i n t he f ur nace f l ame.

Page 38 of 100

And l i f e seemed wor t h t he l i vi ng, and desi r e

Wi t hi n a vi si on of compl et i on came.

Then r ui n ! On a sudden — who knows how ?

Some spy, whose name t he devi l wer e si ck t o

speak.

Sol d hi s own soul f or power t o br eak hi s vow —

And, as a wave f oams up a r ocky cr eek.

58 TREASON

Rushed on t hem l oss, di sast er and despai r ,

And deat h of f ai t h — mor e har d t han al l t o bear ;

And he awoke f r om al l t hose dr eams of hi s —

An exi l e, wi t h a cr own of t hor ns t o wear .

( O cr own of t hor ns, mor e dear t han any cr own,

Save vi ct or y' s, t hat on men' s br ows i s l ai d !

Thi s t hou hast woven, O Fr eedom, f or t hi ne own —

Wi t h t hi s our ut most pai n i s over pai d !

And, f or t he ot her cr own, we know, we know

That whi l e we wear t he t hor ns, t he l aur el s gr ow.

And on some head t hat wi ns t hee shal l be l ai d.

When t hese poor hear t s t hat l ove t hee, ar e l ai d l ow. )

An exi l e, wi t h a cr own of t hor ns f or pr i ze.

Had I been he, I mi ght per haps — who knows ? —

Af t er t he wi nt er of st r i f e and sacr i f i ce,

Have sought t o wr eat he my t hor n- cr own wi t h t he r ose;

Have known a bi t t er , bl i nd, and wi l f ul hour ,

When al l t he wor l d showed but one f r ui t l ess f l ower ,

And i n t hat hour I mi ght have gat her ed i t

For my wr ecked hear t ' s uncompensat i ng dower .

He ? What he di d ? He sl owl y, sl owl y gr ew

Accust omed t o bel i eve t hat al l was l ost ;

TREASON 59

He knew, per haps, t hat hi gh dr eams bud anew.

I n spi t e of t i me, and f at e, and wi nd and f r ost .

But he was wear y, and he chanced t o meet

A woman ver y f ai r and ver y sweet ; '

Page 39 of 100

And he was r i ght , as al ways, when he l ai d

Hi s br oken l i f e at her bel ovf ed f eet .

O, she i s f ai r , wi t h wonder f ul gol d eyes

That deepen i nt o br own, or gl eam t o gr een.

And sl ow sweet speech, t hat sof t ens i nt o si ghs —

Si ghs t hat her l aught er r i ppl es i n bet ween ;

And when she speaks he hear s hi s own soul ' s cr y

Thr ough t hose sof t scar l et l i ps of her s, and I

Hear hi s own voi ce by some sweet echo r ender ed

That ever makes me sad — I know not why.

He came back t o us her e because he hear d

I n some el ect r i c f l ash acr oss t he sea

Of hope r e- r i sen her e : and at t he wor d

He came, new named, f or Fr eedom' s sake t o be

A sl ave i n t hose same chai ns whi ch once he wor e.

Came back t o l ove and l abour as bef or e,

St r i ve as bef or e t o r each t he goal we see,

And — gr ant i t . Li ber t y! — t o f ai l no mor e!

6o TREASON

And when we si t and t al k, as t al k we do,

Of t en, t r ue f r i end t o f r i end, t he hear t l ai d bar e.

She smi l es at us, and dr ops a wor d or t wo

That f i t s hi s mood as sunshi ne f i t s cl ear ai r ;

And he i s gl ad t o t he sound cor e of hi m,

And l i f e' s sweet cup f i l l s t o i t s gol den br i m.

To see her eyes shi ne wi t h r ef l ect ed l i ght

Fr om t he one Li ght t hat never can gr ow di m.

I t must be sweet , t hat f el l owshi p and f ai t h —

That l ove f or l ove — t hat passi on and t hat t r ust

That she, as he, i s f ai t hf ul even t o deat h,

That she, l i ke hi m, est eems al l gai n as dust .

And onl y l abour s f or t he gl or i ous goal ,

For t he f r eed body and enf r anchi sed soul :

To one dear end vows ever y par t of l i f e,

Page 40 of 100

And, wi t h unspeakabl e cont ent . Li f e' s whol e.

And so we t al k, cont r i ve and pl an and scheme,

That what once f ai l ed, may f ai l not t o succeed;

How t o conver t t he year ni ng t o t he dr eam.

How t o t r ansl at e t he dr eam i nt o t he deed ;

TREASON

And when at l ast t he t i me shal l come, we t hr ee,

One now i n soul , shal l one i n act i on be.

So says he — and she smi l es ; and I . . . O God,

I f one must be a t r ai t or , damn t hou me !

I I I .

I t i s not I ! I t i s not he. But she.

' Twas t hat t hat si ckened al l t he soul of me.

I f el t bet r ayal i n t he ver y ai r ,

Not nami ng i t . The wor st t her e i s t o bear

I know, t o t he i nmost soul . What I shal l do ?

Wi t h j ust as l i t t l e doubt I know t hat t oo.

How hot t he wor l d i s, suddenl y! I r est

My head agai nst t he ni ght ' s vast qui et br east ;

Acr oss t he pl ai ns t he ni ght ai r bl ows t hi s waj ' ,

The gr een f i el ds r ound t he t own l ook cool and gr ay,

Chi l l l ooks t he ear t h — but I can f eel i t s heat

I n my par ched l i ps and bur ni ng pul se' s beat

Hot , hot as hel l , wher ei n I must abi de.

The wor l d wi t hi n mocki ng t he wor l d out si de.

62 TREASON

For many weeks our pl ans had al l been l ai d,

Onl y t he t i me when movement coul d be made

Remai ned unf i xed.

' I t may be year s, ' sai d he,

' But we ar e pat i ent — however l ong i t be! '

' I t may be er e t o- mor r ow' s dawn shal l br eak,

But we ar e r eady, ar e r eady ! ' so she spake.

And I sai d, ' Fr eedom t r i umphs! Hope endur es.

Fed by such f er vour and such f ai t h as your s. '

Page 41 of 100

And t hen I hear d a wor d how al l was f i t

To ai d our pl an and our unf ol di ng i t .

I hur r i ed t o my f r i end t o t el l hi m al l .

Gl ad t o t he soul of t he l ong l onged- f or cal l

' To wor k! ' I f ound t hem si t t i ng si l ent l y,

Wat chi ng a spl endi d bl ood- r ed sunset di e.

They t ur ned and smi l ed at me: a qui et mood

Was on t hem, when peace seemed t he deepest

good.

And r est and l ove and happi ness seemed r i ght

I n a di sconsol at e wr onged wor l d' s despi t e.

I spoke my t i di ngs. ' You and I wi l l go

And sow t he seed upon t he f i el d we know,

TREASON 63

And she t he har der t ask shal l do, and wai t

To see what f r ui t i s r ai sed f r om i t by f at e;

Shal l hol d t he t hr eads of al l our l i ves wi t hi n

Her hands, and gi ve t he si gnal s " Lose! " and " Wi n ! "

And now comes par t i ng, and new l i f e, new pai n

For us, who, maybe, shal l not meet agai n. '

Hi s eyes showed l i ght ni ng.

' O, I knew, ' - sai d he,

' Li f e was not over yet , f or you — f or me.

I can wor k now — a wor k t hat may r epay

For t hese f i ve wast ed year s I have t hr own away.

I nt ensi t y may compensat e f or t i me,

And new st r ong hope shal l expi at e my cr i me —

Despai r , t he bl ackest cr i me t hat st ai ns man' s soul .

And you, my br ot her , f r i end, mysel f st i l l st r ong.

Who have hoped, nor once despai r ed t hese f i ve year s

l ong,

O, you ar e gl ad, as ear t h i s gl ad of f l ower s,

Of t hi s gr eat good, and gl or i ous chance of our s

To wor k, per f or m, achi eve, r et r i eve, r epai r .

Just i f y hope, anni hi l at e despai r ! '

He r eached hi s hands out t o me as he spake,

Wi t h f ace al l r adi ant f or t he new j oy' s sake ;

64 TREASON

Bor n l eader of men, bor n chi ef of ent er pr i se,

Wi t h t he deep voi ce and ' st r ong magnet i c eyes ;

Mor e t han al l ot her s, f i t and sur e t o l ead.

Page 42 of 100

To t each t he soul t he t hought , t he hand t he deed !

She had sat si l ent , st at ue of r epose,

Har keni ng t o al l our wor ds f r om f i r st t o cl ose.

Now^- whi l e he st ood t r ansf i gur ed t her e — she r ose.

Then, as he t ur ned t o her , she t hunder ed

' No!

By al l our l ove and j oy, you shal l not go !

You swor e your sel f t o me — t o me. The vow

Shal l f i r ml y hol d, and save you f or me now.

Your saf et y and my l ove, my Love, ar e wor t h

A mi l l i on t i mes t he mi l l i on dr eams of ear t h.

Let hi m go ! What he does or does not do,

Who car es? — but al l I am hol ds l i f e f r om you. '

He di d not speak. I spoke :

' But you have sai d

A t housand t i mes . . . . '

' My l i es upon my head, '

She cr i ed t o hi m. ' What i s i t I woul d not do

Or say, i f sayi ng or doi ng pl easur ed you ?

TREASON 65

Has i t been har d t o act t hi s pat r i ot ' s par t

These year s l ong — pr ompt ed by a st eady hear t

To seem t he t hi ng you wi shed me, and t o be

I n soul mor e st r ong t han you coul d f ancy me ?

I hav e l i ed f or al l t hes e y ear s — s av e i n s uc h wor d

As l ov e has whi s per ed, and y ou al one hav e hear d.

Fr eedom? A name! The peopl e? None of t hem

Wor t hy t o t ouc h my l ov er ' s gar ment - hem !

Pl ent y t her e be ar e good enough t o di e

The deat hs t hat Fr eedom mus t be pur c has ed by ;

But not hi ng t hat t he wor l d c oul d gai n c oul d pay

For y our one l i f e, i f t hat wer e t hr own away .

I hav e k ept s i l enc e, I hav e s pok en and l i ed,

That y ou mos t f ul l y mi ght be s at i s f i ed.

But now t he t i me has c ome f or s peak i ng t r ue.

For s ay i ng what y ou s hal l and s hal l not do. .

Vai n wor ds he was t es , t hi s f ool i s h boy , y our f r i end,

To me y our l i f e i s v owed t i l l l i f e s hal l end.

Judge y ou what honour Fr eedom wi l l c onf er

On hi m who br eak s a v ow t o f ol l ow her !

What ? Ur ge di s honour and a br ok en v ow ?

Thes e wer e not t hi ngs y ou wi l l ed f or hi m t i l l now !

Ur ge hi m, ent r eat

— i n any wor ds y ou k now.

I hol d hi s hear t ; I s ay he s hal l not go ! '

66 TREASON

She f l ung an ar m ac r os s hi s nec k . And he

Hal f mov ed hi s l i ps — y et nev er s pok e t o me.

Page 43 of 100

She s pok e. ' To- mor r ow he wi l l s peak t o y ou ! '

I c ame away .

O, I am pat i ent t oo !

I wai t ed t i l l I hear d what he woul d do.

To- day t hi s c ame :

^ For gi v e her , f or gi v e met

O mor e t han br ot her , r i ght i s har d t o s ee.

And mi ne ey es bl i nd. Li f e' s maz e has many a t ur n.

Onl y t hi s muc h unc l ouded I di s c er n —

A v ow i s s ac r ed. So — I y i el d. For s he

Cl ai ms t o t he ut t er mos t t he s oul of me.

But y ou — go on I I t s hal l be gi v en y ou

To do t he deeds I was t oo weak t o do.

Some day , per haps , s he may bel i ev e as I

—

As y ou. Ti l l t hen, O mor e t han f r i end. Good- by e t '

So t he dr eam' s ended !

Now c omes ac t i on' s t ur n.

What mus t I do? Thes e s c ant y t ear s t hat bur n

Li k e f i r e al ong my f ac e — hear t of my hear t ,

Thes e ar e f or y ou, f or me, s i nc e we mus t par t

- ;

But al l t he ot her f i r e t hat bur ns me t hr ough

TREASON 67

I s f or t he f ut ur e. What r emai ns t o do ?

How end t he c ont r adi c t i on of hi s hf e ?

Al l hi gh dr eams c r us hed — a woman and a wi f e

Set i n t he pl ac e t hat Fr eedom onc e was i n !

Thi s i s t he one unpar donabl e s i n,

Or wer e, i f I s houl d s uf f er i t . I hol d

The k ey s of f at e, of i s s ues mani f ol d.

'

I f s he wer e dead, he woul d be our s agai n.

How t hos e f our wor ds danc ed t hr ough my di z z y br ai n

Las t ni ght ! Now wi t hi n my wear y head

Anot her phr as e k eeps t i me — '

When s he i s dead. '

Hi s s ens uous nat ur e wi l l be s ad awhi l e,

To mi s s her f ac e and ey es , her v oi c e and s mi l e ;

But t he t r ue s el f wi l l c onquer , and t he man

Wi l l do t he wor k — t he wor k none ot her c an.

And s he has pl ay ed a game f or heav y s t ak es ,

Page 44 of 100

And wi ns t he s l eep f r om whi c h none ev er wak es .

And I — gai n not hi ng — but t he wor l d s hal l gai n !

Wei gh, now, and bal anc e ! Vent ur e or r ef r ai n ?

E, ef r ai n — hav e pi t y — go my wor k i ng way .

And hope t o s ee t he f ac e I l ov e, s ome day

Af t er l ong y ear s — when s omewhat we hav e won —

To hear hi m s ay , ' What I , t oo, mi ght hav e done

I f . . . '

F 2

68 TREASON

What a hope t o f eed t he empt y y ear s !

Vent ur e ! A s har p br i ef pai n, s ome s hor t - l i v ed t ear s

For hi m. For me r enounc ement of my l and.

Of al l my r i ght t o hol d hi m by t he hand ;

Of al l my c hanc e of s eei ng hi m s ome day ,

When al l t hos e s hadows may hav e pas s ed away .

For hi m a s pl endi d f i i t ur e ( when hi s hand

Al one s hal l ex ec ut e what bot h hav e pl anned.

So t hat t he t r av ai l s hal l not be i n v ai n) —

Sad, but not s or r y , t r i umphi ng t hr ough pai n !

Thi s f or t he man I l ov e ! Thi s may I gi v e ;

I t s pr i c e my deat h — and, dy i ng, I s hal l l i v e,

I f by s ome gl or i ous deat h I y i el d my br eat h

Mak i ng of l i f e a hy mn — a s ong of deat h.

I V.

He i s s et f r ee ! And s he i s dead.

Mi ne wer e t he hands her bl ood made r ed ;

Mi ne wer e t he ey es t hat s aw her br eas t

Heav e hk e a l i t t l e c hi l d' s at r es t ;

Mi ne was t he t ouc h t hat c hanged t he deep

Sof t br eat hi ng beaut y of her s l eep

TREASON 69

I nt o a hor r or t hat wi l l c r y

Agai ns t me t i l l t he day I di e !

She l ook ed s o f ai r , s o s weet , s o good,

Page 45 of 100

I al mos t bl es s ed her as I s t ood

Gr as pi ng t he k ni f e t hat was t o end

Her l i f e, s av e honour , f r ee my f r i end.

f r i end, i t was f or y ou, f or y ou

1 pai d t hi s har d deed' s heav y due !

I s t r uc k — her ey es s hone — and s he c r i ed

' Tr ai t or ! ' I s t r uc k agai n — s he di ed.

And we wer e i n t he r oom al one —

I , and t he deed t hat I had done !

I f l ed — but al l al ong my f l i ght

Thr ough v as t nes s of t he empt y ni ght .

One f ac e pur s ued me l i k e t he ghos t

Of al l t hat man has ev er l os t ;

Not her f ac e — dead and whi t e and f ai r .

But hi s — when he s houl d f i nd her t her e !

I t wi l l not hur t ! Not l ong, not l ong !

Soon t he v as t pr es s of wor l d- wi de wr ong,

And t he gr eat gl or y of t he deed

Wher ei n he onl y c an s uc c eed

70 TREASON

( The l eadi ng of t he peopl e) , wi l l

Out f ac e f or hi m t hi s dr eam of i l l .

Pas s qui c k l y , c er t ai n s t or m of t ear s !

And l eav e c l ear l i ght f or ot her y ear s .

Year s whos e f ai r f r ui t s I s hal l not k now.

I go t o s t r i k e s ome s t er ner bl ow,

To l ay s ome but c her - t y r ant l ow.

And di e r i ght gl adl y , dy i ng s o.

And when, t hr ough hi m, t he day i s won.

And men ar e f r ee beneat h t he s un,

None s hal l r emember t hem of me

Who gav e my l i f e t hat t hi s mi ght be.

I n a di s honour ed gr av e wi l l I

Li e down — c ont ent ed t her e t o l i e,

Dy i ng mos t gl or i ous and mos t gl ad.

Thi s was t he one c hanc e t hat I had —

I t ook i t ; I hav e s et hi m f r ee

And pl ay ed my par t out wor t hi l y ;

And y et

— hi s f ac e, hi s angui s hed ey es —

O br ot her , c oul d I ot her wi s e?

Who' s t hi s ? A f r i end? The pas s wor d? Ri ght !

What ? You hav e t r av el l ed al l t he ni ght

TREASON ^ l

To f i nd me, and y ou s ay y ou bear

News f r om t he c i t y ? I was t her e

Page 46 of 100

But yest er day. How goes i t ? Say, —

I s t her e f r esh news si nce yest er day ?

Hi s wi f e i s dead ? And he . . . No, no—

By heaven, you shal l not cheat me so

Of my l i f e' s wage ! he i s not dead —

He i s not dead — but i l l may be.

Wi t h dr i nki ng gr i ef t oo gr eedi l y.

Soon t hat wi l l pass — and he wi l l do

The wor k she has r el eased hi m t o.

He i s not dead.

Then t el l me why

Your f ace i s wr enched wi t h agony ?

What i s t he wor st ? You l oved hi m, t oo ?

Speak — or I ' l l t ear i t out of you !

No — no ! A l i e ! You sai d t hat t hi ng

To puni sh me f or t hr eat eni ng !

I t was not t r ue, t hat t hi ng you sai d —

That he went mad t o see her dead !

I t i s t r ue !

Then, i f God t her e be,

How he must l augh t o t hi nk of me !

72 THE SAI LOR' S WI FE

THE SAI LOR' S WI FE.

' O, THE wi nd i s cr uel and keen and col d,

I t i s r agi ng over t he mar sh and t he wol d

As i f i t woul d t ear you out of my hol d.

' Mol l y, hol d f ast ; we shal l soon be t her e,

Wher e t he r oom i s war m wi t h t he f i r e' s br oad f l ar e

( Wher e t he si l ence i s, and t he empt y chai r . )

' The way i s l ong f r om t he sea and t he t own ;

( Thi s i s t he wi nd t o wr eck and t o dr own ;

I t bl ew t he ni ght t hat hi s shi p went down. )

' Hol d up — t hat Hght , l i ke a r ed r ed st ar ,

Shows wher e t he f i r e and t he cur t ai ns ar e

( The mad waves r oar t hr ough t he ni ght af ar ) .

THE SAI LOR' S WI FE 73

' O, t he wi nd, how i t dr i ves ! we can har dl y st and.

How i t whi st l es and shr i eks over sea and l and !

Keep cl ose, hol d t i ght l y t o mot her ' s hand.

' Sweet r est f or my l i t t l e ones soon wi l l be !

( And f or hi m hi s r est i n t he r est l ess sea,

And t he ache t hat i s never at r est f or me) .

' The sheep on t he wol d show dul l y whi t e

Agai nst t he dar kness — I have you t i ght .

O God, keep bot h of my l ambs t o- ni ght !

Page 47 of 100

' We shal l soon be home — we wi l l shut t he door .

And t he wi nd shal l not get at us any mor e.

( O, t he shout of t he sur f on t he f ar - of f shor e ! ) '

They have r eached t he door , t hey ar e saf e i nsi de ;

The wi nd wai l s over t he t r ees and t he t i de

As i t wai l ed and shr i eked on t he ni ght he di ed.

War m, l onel y and f i r el i t t he cot t age i s.

Lonel y! Then who and what i s t hi s —

Whose voi ce, whose ar ms, whose t ear s, whose ki ss ?

74 THE SAI LOR' S WI FE

Ah, whose but hi s al l her soul had st i r r ed ?

What t hei r hear t s sai d onl y t he angel s hear d,

For t hey hel d each ot her wi t hout a wor d.

For t her e i s not a wor d t hat i s not vai n

When out of t he dar kness and ni ght and pai n

Two l over s come t o each ot her agai n.

ON DI T 75

ON BI T.

Col d i s t he wi nd — t he f l ower s bel ow, '

Fear f ul of wi nt er ' s hand, l i e cur l ed ;

But Spr i ng wi l l come agai n you know.

And gl or i f y t he wor l d.

Dar k i s t he ni ght — no st ar s or moon ;

But at i t s bl ackest , ni ght i s done,

Al l af t er hast ens t o t he noon.

The t r i umph of t he sun.

And l i f e i s sad, and l ove i s br i ef .

Be pat i ent ; t her e wi l l be, t hey say,

New l i f e, di vi ne beyond bel i ef .

Somehow, somewher e, some day.

76 SWEET SUMMER

SWEET SUMMER.

The spr i ng has f l ed wi t h i t s shi ne and shower ,

Page 48 of 100

And summer r ei gns, i n t he r adi ant hour

When noon bur ns sweet ness f r om ever y f l ower

That t ur ns i t s f ace t o t he sun.

She r ei gns i n t he wani ng bl ue of t he ski es,

When t he l ovel y l i ght of t he eveni ng l i es

On past ur es gol den wi t h memor i es

Of dear dr eams, over and done.

O summer , r oyal cr own of t he year .

Beyond f ai nt spr i ng and wan aut umn dear ,

Hope and r emembr ance ar e al l t hey bear .

But j oy i s t he soul of t hee —

A soul t hat st i r s i n t he unr i pe cor n,

I n t he dewy hush of t he new sweet mor n.

When i n l eaf y woods sof t echoes ar e bor n

Of t he f ar - of f song of t he sea.

SWEET SUMMER 77

O summer , sweet summer , when l over s st r ay

Past t he gr een mi l l - pool by t he shady way,

Thr ough t he f i el ds sof t - wr eat hed i n t he new- mown hay,

And down t hr ough t he l eaf y l ane ;

AVhen as dayl i ght l essens t he ol d f ol ks st and

And l ook out over t he qui et l and,

And si gh ( not sadl y, i f hand cl asps hand)

That yout h comes never agai n !

For t he summer di es — as our yout h must di e,

And vai n ar e t he pr ayer and t he passi onat e cr y,

The r oses and beaut i f ul days go by

Wi t h al l t hei r wonder and wor t h ;

And snows ar e over t he l i l y' s head,

And a sheet of i ce on t he r ose' s bed.

And l ove may di e, now t he l eaves ar e dead

And wi nt er i s l or d of t he ear t h.

Yet l i st en, sad hear t , t o t he gl ad r ef r ai n

Of t he br own- wi nged bi r ds i n t he br own- hedged l ane ;

Summer has gone, but she comes agai n !

Sweet summer never can di e.

And yout h, sweet yout h, i s i mmor t al , t oo,

And w^ i l l bl oom agai n as t he r oses do,

And l ove i s et er nal , and l i ght s l i f e t hr ough.

Though yout h and t he r ose go by.

Page 49 of 100

78 NI GHT AND MORNI NG

NI GHT AND MORNI NG.

I . NI GHT.

Whi l e yet t he woods wer e har dl y mor e t han br own,

Fi l l ed wi t h t he st i l l ness of t he dyi ng day

The f ol ds and f ar ms and f ai nt gr een past ur es l ay,

And bel l s chi med sof t l y f r om t he gr ay- wal l ed t own.

The dar k f i el ds wi t h t he com and poppi es sown.

The dar k del i ci ous dr eamy f or est way,

The hope of Apr i l f or t he soul of May —

On al l of t hese ni ght ' s wi de sof t wi ngs swept down.

One yel l ow st ar pi er ced t hr ough t he cl ear , pur e sky.

And showed above t he net wor k of t he wood.

The si l ence of whose cr owded sol i t ude

Was br oken but by l i t t l e woodl and t hi ngs

Rust l i ng dead l eaves wi t h r est l ess f eet and wi ngs,

And by a ki ss t hat ended i n a si gh.

NI GHT AND MORNI NG 79

I I . MORNI NG.

The wi nd of mom awoke bef or e t he l i ne

Of dawn' s pear l haze made pal e t he east er n sky,

And woke t he bi r ds and woodl and cr eat ur es shy,

And si ghed ni ght ' s di r ge t hr ough t r emul ous boughs

of pi ne.

The nor t h and sout h sky f l ushed, and t he di vi ne

Rose- r adi ance t ouched t he moor l and l one and hi gh.

Whi l e st i l l t he wood was dusk, wher e, by and by.

Spl endi d and st r ong t he r i sen sun shoul d shi ne.

I t shone — on t wo t hat t hr ough t he woodl and came

Wi t h eyes aver t ed and col d hands t hat cl ung.

And wear y l i ps t hat knew f or bi dden t hi ngs.

And hear t s made si ck wi t h vai n i magi ni ngs —

And over al l t he wood i t s gl or y f l ung,

The wood— t hat never mor e coul d be t he same.

8o TO OUR LADY

TO OUR LADY.

( For a Pi ct ur e by Gi ovanni Bel l i ni . )

Page 50 of 100

Dear Mot her , i n whose eyes I see

Al l t hat I woul d and cannot be,

Let t hy pur e l i ght f or ever shi ne,

Though di ml y, t hr ough t hi s l i f e of mi ne !

Though what I dr eam, and what I do.

I n pr ayer ' s despi t e ar e al ways t wo.

Li ght me, t hr ough maze of deeds undone,

O t hou whose deeds and dr eams ar e one !

And t hough t hr ough mi st s of st r i f e and t ear s,

A wor l d away my st ar appear s.

Yet l et Deat h' s sunr i se shi ne on me,

St i l l r eachi ng ar ms and hear t t o t hee !

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM 8i

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM.

For al l human t hi ngs do r equi r e t o have an i deal i n t hem

wer e i t onl y t o keep t he body unput r ef i ed. — Car l yl e.

Our Lady' s chapel i s abl aze wi t h l i ght

That bur ns agai nst t he cl ose- pr essed f ace of ni ght ;

The echo of l ong cent ur i es of pr ayer

I s mi ngl ed wi t h t he i ncense i n t he ai r ,

And ever y soul t hat once br eat hed t her e a vow

Joi ns wi t h t he soul s of t hose who pr ay t her e now.

And t her e, wi t hi n t he t aper ' s sof t ened gl ow,

Ami d t he f l ower s t hat i n gi r l s' gar dens gr ow,

The l ovel y i mage of t he Mot her st ands —

St ands wi t h her l i t t l e baby i n her hands.

And i n her eyes, and i n her per f ect f ace,

The et er nal pr omi se of i deal gr ace.

A woman, passi ng down t he qui et st r eet ,

Hear d sudden sound of si ngi ng voi ces sweet

G

82 REPUGI UM PECCATORUM

That seemed t o cal l her i n f r om out t he ni ght

To wher e i t r ose, t hr ough f l oods of sof t ened l i ght .

The musi c caught and hel d her sense as f ast

As soul s ar e hel d by f et t er s of t hei r past .

O Mot her - mai den — what a woman- f ace !

Page 51 of 100

Sor di dl y sensual , unl ovel y, base,

Scor ed wi t h coar se l i nes bur nt i n by year s of wr ong,

St amped wi t h t he si gnet of t he vi l e and st r ong ;

Hopel ess, i mpur e, wi t h eyes unwashed by t ear s

Thr ough many soul l ess, desecr at ed year s.

She sat t her e st upi d, br oken, l ost , def i l ed.

Bef or e pur e mot her and i deal chi l d ;

She on whose bar r en br east no l i t t l e- hand

Had ever r est ed i n di vi ne command.

She who had never known t he unnamed bl i ss

\ Vhi ch t hr i l l s a mot her t hr ough her baby' s ki ss.

How st r ange and sweet t hat musi c was ! She hear d

The cl ear not e of a l ong- f or got t en bi r d —

A cer t ai n t hr ush whi ch used t o come and si ng

Upon t he sweet - pl umed l i l ac i n t he spr i ng

When she was young, and t her e was t i me t o t hi nk

Of ot her t hi ngs t han devi l r y and dr i nk.

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM 83

That cot t age gar den — wi t h i t s hol l yhocks

Each si de t he por ch — i t s gr ay and pur pl e st ocks,

The sweet br i ar hedge, t he cl i mbi ng yel l ow r ose,

How l ong i t was si nce she had t hought of t hose !

Such memor i es qui ckl y f ade i n gasl i t hour s,

' Mi d pat choul i and t awdr y hot house f l ower s.

Ther e was a chur ch at home — she mi nded wel l

I t s ghast l y t al es of si n and deat h and hel l ;

Yet i t was pl easant i n t he summer days

To wal k t her e t hr ough t he qui et meadow ways.

And t hr ough t he cor nf i el ds wher e t he poppi es gr ow —

Or gr ew once — br i ght as l i f e seemed, l ong ago.

And t hen t he chur chyar d on t he t hymy hi l l

Wher e t he bees mur mur and t he wor l d i s st i l l .

One gr ave i s t her e wher ei n t her e bur i ed l i es

Somet hi ng beyond a mot her ' s hear t and eyes :

A woman' s soul — her soul — mi ght have been spar ed

Had t her e been any one on ear t h who car ed.

Har k — some one' s speaki ng ! Li st en, what says he ?

' I n t hat dear Heaven, wher e we al l may be,

A l ady si t s wi t h t he di vi nest eyes

Whose st ar r y dept hs ar e st i l l wi t h Par adi se.

Page 52 of 100

84 REFUGI UM PECCATORUM

She si t s and l ooks upon t hi s wor l d of our s

And sees al i ke i t s sunshi ne and i t s shower s.

' And al l her hear t i s over f ul l of l ove

For t hi s poor wor l d she knows t he har dness of ;

And when we ar e sad, she si ghs and l ongs t o r est

Our achi ng heads on her di vi nest br east ;

But when we si n, she weeps we ar e begui l ed

So f ar f r om her and f r om her l i t t l e chi l d.

' She weeps f or us who si n — how can we dar e

I n such a mot her ' s hear t pl ant gr i ef and car e ?

She who i s al l we mi ght be i f we woul d.

Lovel y and l ovi ng, gr aci ous, gr eat , and good ;

Onl y not happy — how can she be gl ad

Whi l e al l men si n, and, si nni ng, ar e made sad ?

' But saddest t ear s of al l ar e t hose t hat r i se.

Thr ough t he cl ear r adi ance of t hose cr yst al eyes,

When women si n — t he women who mi ght be

Mot her s as pur e or mai ds as cl ean as she ;

Women whose soul s mi ght be as chast e and cl ear

As t he cal m eyes of her , di vi ne and dear . '

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM 85

The wor shi pper s had sl owl y passed away,

And one by one t ur ned t o t hei r wor k or pl ay ;

And one by one t he dyi ng t aper s l ef t

The chur ch of al l i t s gol den gl ow ber ef t :

Onl y, bef or e our Lady' s al t ar , one

Love- l i ght ed l i t t l e t wi nkl i ng t aper shone.

St i l l wi t h t hat peace whi ch i s t he smi l e of God,

The pr i est al ong t he empt y chapel t r od.

When — I s t he chapel empt y ? t hen what st i r r ed

The si l ence wi t h t hat hal f - ar t i cul at e' wor d ?

What br eat hed ? Who sobbed ? And what hand has

he passed

Thr ust t hr ough t he dar kness, caught , and hel d hi m

f ast ?

' I s i t al l t r ue — about t he Par adi se,

And t he dear l ady wi t h t he cr yst al eyes,

And al l her t ear s and l ovi ng — i s i t t r ue ? '

Thi s i s a woman speaks — a woman, t oo.

Whom shame and si n have cr ushed and pr essed awr y

Fr om al l her possi bl e peace and pur i t y.

Page 53 of 100

' I t i s not t r ue — speak, i s i t t r ue ? ' she cr i ed.

' Tr ue as your sor r ow, chi l d, ' t he pr i est r epl i ed.

86 REFVGI UM PECCATORUM

' But not f or me — she does not weep f or me.

Unwor t hy even of her memor y ?

She weeps f or t hose who do a l i t t l e wr ong,

Not me — who out r aged her my whol e l i f e l ong.

' She weeps t he most f or t hose whose hear t s most bl eed. '

' Then, O my hear t , she weeps f or us i ndeed.

So, I can not go back. I t shal l not be

That she shal l ever weep agai n f or me.

O save me, save me ! once t hat t hr eshol d cr ossed,

Her cr yst al eyes must weep me — doubl y l ost !

Out si de t he chur ch t he ni ght pr essed cl osel y r ound.

Dar k as despai r , as wi de and as pr of ound.

Wi t hi n, t he one smal l t aper kept at bay

Al l evi l dr eams t hat t hr ough t he dar kness st r ay.

' Her e shal l you st ay— saf e, and no l onger sad,

Si nce o' er your soul God' s angel s have gr own gl ad.

' Bef or e our Lady' s al t ar kneel and pr ay.

Counsel of l i ght wi l l come wi t h l i ght of day,

And poi nt us t o some pat hway, wher ei n you

May l eave your past , and shape your l i f e anew,

Fi t f or her eyes t o see. Her mot her - car e

Shal l keep your f ut ur e undef i l ed and f ai r ! '

REFUGI UM PECCATORUM 87

Bef or e our Lady' s l i ght al l ni ght she l ay

Too passi onat el y peni t ent t o pr ay ;

Onl y wi t hi n her hear t t he waves of woe

And j oy went agoni si ng t o and f r o.

' Thou l ovest me. I am saf e besi de t hy f eet .

Have pi t y on me — Mot her - mai den sweet . '

The mor ni ng sunr i se gl or i f i es t he f ace

Of Mar y, Mot her of i deal gr ace,

Touches t he poor soi l ed f ace t hat has gr own gr ay

Thr ough r ouge t he t ear s have but hal f washed away ;

She does not weep now — does not br eat he nor st i r .

Page 54 of 100

The Mai den Mot her has had pi t y on her .

88 THE BETTER PART

THE BETTER PART.

' Ti s wear y t r eadi ng ever y day

The same dul l , dr ear y, uphi l l way.

Whi l e t he desi r ed and t he di vi ne

So f ai r and f ar above us shi ne —

As unat t ai nabl e as dear

To us who gr ope and st umbl e her e.

' Ti s har d t o hol d our f l ag on hi gh.

And never f ai nt , unt i l we di e —

To spr ead our banner on a wi nd

Scent ed wi t h gar l ands l ef t behi nd :

To gi ve up al l l i f e' s j oy, t hat we

May humbl e banner - bear er s be.

' Ti s har d t o si ng, i n f ai t h, of l i ght

Thr ough endl ess- seemi ng hour s of ni ght -

To t une t he har p, t he voi ce upr ai se

For Fr eedom' s sake, f or Honour ' s pr ai se-

THE BETTER PART 89

To si ng of good t hat i s, not seems —

To si ng of dut i es, not of dr eams.

' Ti s har d t o f i x one' s sl eepy eyes

On f ai nt , f ai nt st r eaks of new sunr i se,

When al l one' s bei ng year ns t o weep

I t s t i r edness out , and t ur n t o sl eep :

Sl eep and f or get , and cease t o car e

I f sunr i se be, i f dar kness wer e.

' Ti s wear y f i ght i ng al l one' s l i f e

I n one l ong, bi t t er , desper at e st r i f e,

' Gai nst hydr a- headed, r ampant wr ong,

When one i s f ai n of dance and song —

To smel l t he r ose, and hear t he f ai r

Sof t wi ngs of Pl easur e i n t he ai r .

Yet woul d we choose t he wear y way,

The f i ght i ng, not t he f east i ng day —

To wear t he ar mour , not t he f l ower s.

To si ng of Tr ut h whi l e voi ce i s our s ;

Because good f i ght ' s wor st wounds ar e f ar

Mor e dear t han any pl easur es ar e.

90 THE NEW FLOWER

Page 55 of 100

THE NEW FLOWER.

Why not gi ve up t he st r i f e — f ol d hands and wai t

( Unmur mur i ng and unsubdued) our Fat e, —

Thr ow down t he f l ower of hope, and l et i t l i e ;

Whi l e we, wi t h empt y hands and hear t , go by

To wher e despai r ' s r ank weeds gr ow t hi ck and st r ong

Al bei t we have cut and t r ampl ed t hem so l ong ?

Why not ? Ah, t r y, and see what bl oom wi l l bear

Your cul t i vat ed seedl i ng of despai r ;

What f l ower of r est , whose f r agr ance wi l l r epay

For t hat sweet , hur t f ul f l ower you t hr ew away ; —

I t bl ossoms — Ah ! ' t i s hope t hat bl ooms agai n

Mor e beaut i f ul , mor e chea shed, and mor e vai n !

ALL I N ALL

ALL I N ALL.

When al l t he ni ght i s hor r i bl e wi t h cl amour

Of voi cel ess cur ses dar ker t han t he ni ght ,

' When l i ght of sun t her e i s not , nei t her st ar shi ne.

Nor any beacon on t he hi l l of Ri ght ,

Shi ne, O t hou Li ght of Li f e, upon our pat hway —

Fr eedom, be t hou our l i ght !

Si nce al l l i f e' s ways ar e di f f i cul t and dr ear y,

And f al se st eps echo t hr o' et er ni t y,

And t her e i s nought t o l ean on as we j our ney

By pat hs not smoot h as downwar d pat hs woul d be,

We have no ot her hel p — we need no ot her ;

Fr eedom, we l ean on t hee !

The sl ave' s base mur mur and t he t hr eat s of t yr ant s,

The voi ce of cowar ds who cr i nge and cr y ' Ret r eat , '

The whi sper of t he wor l d, ' Come wher e power cal l s

t hee ! '

The whi sper of t he f l esh, ' Let l i f e be sweet . '

92 ALL I N ALL

Si l ence al l t hese wi t h t hy di vi ne commandi ng.

Gui de t hou t hy chi l dr en' s f eet !

For t hee, f or t hee we bear t he cr oss, t he banner .

For t hee ar e al l our bat t l es f ought and won ;

For t hee was ever y pr ayer we ever ut t er ed.

For t hee has ever y deed of our s been done ;

Page 56 of 100

To t hee we pr ess — t o t hee, t r i umphant spl endour .

O Fr eedom, l ead us on !

Wher e t hou shal l l ead we do not f ear t o f ol l ow.

Thou hast our hear t s ; we f ol l ow t hem i n t hee.

Spi r i t of Li ght , what ever t hou shal t show us,

St r ong i n t he f ai t h, we shal l not f ear t o see ;

We r each t o t hee t hr ough al l t he waves of dar kness

Of al l t he days t o be.

A WORD FOR THE FUTURE 93

A WORD FOR THE FUTURE.

When we sow t he good seed of t he pr esent ,

That t he f ut ur e wi l l gar ner and gai n,

For whom do we t i l l , weed, and wat er .

For whom wat ch t he sun and t he r ai n,

Wi t h passi onat e f ai t h t hat our wai t i ng

And l abour wi l l not be i n vai n ?

Not t he men and t he women about us — •

Themsel ves but t hei nsel ves can make f r ee ;

Not t hey, mor e t han we, t he f ul l har vest

Of t he seed we ar e sowi ng wi l l see ;

But t he f r ui t s wi l l be r eaped by t he chi l dr en—

The men and t he women t o be.

O, t he chi l dr en ! — t he r ose- l eaf sof t f aces,

The sweet l i t t l e voi ces, and mi l d.

94 A WORD FOR THE FUTURE

The ar ms t hat have cl ung and car essed us,

The l i ps t hat have babbl ed and smi l ed, —

Have t hese bl i nded us so we di scer n not

That a chi l d i s not onl y a chi l d ?

Not onl y a t oy and a t r easur e

For mot her ' s and f at her ' s del i ght ,

Not onl y a f l ower want may wi t her ,

Or l ovel essness r ui n and bl i ght ,

But a soul t o be saved, i n Tr ut h' s sunshi ne,

Or l ost wher e Tr ut h' s absence makes ni ght .

And t he soul s t hat shal l shape t he wor l d' s f ut ur e

Ar e t he soul s we ar e shapi ng t o- day !

Let t he chi l dr en have shar e i n our j ust i ce,

Page 57 of 100

Not j ust i n our pi t y and pl ay.

They wi l l do t he wor l d' s wor k, and our wor k i s

To show t hem t he wor k and t he way.

And he who i s hel pi ng t he chi l dr en.

Who ar e f r ai l as t he buds of a r ose.

Who i s keepi ng t he canker f r om bl i ght i ng

The bl ossoms bef or e t hey uncl ose,

And maki ng t he f ut ur e sons har dy

To f ace al l t he f ut ur e' s f el l f oes, —

A WORD FOR THE FUTURE 95

He i s doi ng t he wor l d' s wor k et er nal

That t he f i r st dawn of soul saw begun ;

He i s hast eni ng t he hour when t he chi l dr en

The bat t l es we l ost wi l l have won :

When t he deeds t hat we di d not , and coul d not ,

Those smal l hands — gr own st r ong— wi l l have done.

96 KNOWLEDGE

KNO WLEDGE.

I SAW a peopl e t r ampl ed on, oppr essed,

Wi t h hel pl ess hands, and eyes of l i ght af r ai d,

Wi t h achi ng shoul der s wher eon bur dens l ai d

By day and ni ght choked hope and mur der ed r est ;

A peopl e sor di d, sad, unl oved, unbl essed,

Whose shr oud by t hei r own hands was ever made.

Whose never - endi ng t oi l was onl y pai d

By deat h- i n- l i f e — or deat h, of l i f e' s gi f t s best .

' What hel p, ' I cr i ed, ' f or t hese whose hands ar e weak —

Too weak t o hol d t he weapons t hey shoul d wi el d ;

Too weak t o gr asp a hel pi ng hand, or seek

Wi t h ar med bat t al i ons t o di sput e t he f i el d,

And on t he oppr essor s j ust r evenge t o wr eak ?

Then — as I cr i ed — t he hel per was r eveal ed.

KNOWLEDGE 97

Page 58 of 100

I I .

I saw a woman, pur e, and cal m, and gr and,

Wi t h st r ong br oad br ows, and eyes whose keen cl ear

f l ame

Li t up men' s hear t s and showed t hem gl or y and shame,

And what t hi ngs coul d, and what t hi ngs coul d not st and,

Just i ce and Honour st ood at her r i ght hand ;

And bl azoned on her f or ehead was her name.

Too br i ght f or me t o r ead ; and as she came

Men bowed and wor shi pped her t hr ough al l t he l and.

And evi l coul d not l i ve bef or e her eyes,

And good r ose up t o answer t o her cal l .

' Who ar t t hou, ' t hen I sai d, ' t hat dost ar i se

St r ong t o r edeem t hi s peopl e f r om t hei r t hr al l ? '

She answer ed me wi t h t ender voi ce and wi se :

' My name i s Knowl edge — and I conquer al l ! '

TO DI ANA

TO DI ANA.

As t he moon t hat col dl y shi nes t hough her wor shi pper s

di e as t hey kneel ,

And f eel s but her col dness and br i ght ness, and knows

not t he deat h t hat t hey deal .

As t he sun t hat shi nes and knows not t hat men ar e

par ched by hi s heat ,

As t he wor l d t hat whi r l s wi t h i t s mi l l i ons of hear t s t hat

bl eed as t hey beat ,

So you shi ne, O my sun wi t hout shadow, my moon wi t h-

out st ai n or spot ,

And car r y men' s wr ecked hear t s wi t h you, my wor l d, and

know i t not !

AN APPEAL 99

AN APPEAL.

Dear , do not di e !

Of cypr esses and gr assy gr aves si ng I !

Page 59 of 100

I hang wi t h wr eat hs of song deat h' s gr i ef - gr own cr oss,

And weep t o musi c f or l i f e' s i nf i ni t e l oss,

And make t he sweet est song of shar pest woe ;

I know t he way, because I l ove you so.

I f you di ed, what mor e coul d be sung or sai d ?

I coul d not si ng of deat h i f you wer e dead.

Dear , do not l ove !

Do not l ove me ! Keep st i l l al oof , above !

Whi l e you and l ove i n f ar - of f gl or y st and,

Cl ear sounds t he voi ce, and har p r esponds t o hand.

But , i f you l oved me — i f you came qui t e near .

And set l ove ' mi d l i f e' s common t hi ngs and dear ,

Mut e woul d t he song be — l ove woul d be t oo f ai r

To wast e upon t he wi de wor l d' s empt y ai r

And, songl ess, I shoul d dr oop and vai nl y pi ne —

I coul d not si ng of l ove i f you wer e mi ne.

H 3

I C30 THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE.

Jn Memor i am Fer encz Renyi .

Hungar y, 1848.

Thi s i s t he st or y of Renyi ,

And when you have hear d i t t hr ough,

Pr ay God He send no t r i al l i ke hi s

To t r y t he f ai t h of you.

And i f hi s doom be upon you,

Then may God gr ant you t hi s :

To i i ght as good a f i ght as he.

And wi n a cr own hke hi s !

He was st r ong and handsome and happy,

Bel oved and l ovi ng and young,

Wi t h eyes t hat men set t hei r t r ust i n.

And t he f i r e of hi s soul on hi s t ongue.

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE l oi

He l oved t he Spi r i t of Fr eedom,

He hat ed hi s count r y' s wr ongs,

He t ol d t he pat r i ot s' st or i es,

And he sang t he pat r i ot s' songs.

Wi t h mot her and si st er and sweet hear t

Page 60 of 100

Hi s saf e gl ad days went by,

Ti l l Hungar y cal l ed on her chi l dr en

To ar m, t o f i ght , and t o di e.

' Good- bye t o mot her and si st er ;

Good- bye t o my sweet sweet hear t ;

I f i ght f or you — you pr ay f or me,

We shal l not be apar t ! '

The women pr ayed at t he sunr i se,

They pr ayed when t he ski es gr ew di m ;

Hi s mot her and si st er pr ayed f or t he Cause,

Hi s sweet hear t pr ayed f or hi m.

For mot her and si st er and sweet hear t ,

But most f or t he t r ue and t he r i ght ,

He l ow l ai d down hi s own l i f e' s hopes

And l ed hi s men t o f i ght .

l oi THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

Ski r mi shi ng, scout i ng, and spyi ng,

Ni ght - wat ch, at t ack, and def eat ;

The r esol ut e, desper at e f i ght i ng.

The hopel ess, r el uct ant r et r eat ;

Rui n, def eat , and di sast er .

Capt ur e and l oss and despai r .

And hal f of hi s r egi ment hi dden.

And onl y t hi s man knew wher e !

Pr i soner , f ast bound, sor e wounded.

They br ought hi m r oughl y al ong,

Wi t h hi s body as weak and br oken

As hi s spi r i t was st eadf ast and st r ong.

Bef or e t he Aust r i an gener al —

' Wher e ar e your men ? ' he hear d ;

He l ooked bl ack deat h i r i i t s ugl y f ace

And answer ed never a wor d.

' Wher e i s your r egi ment hi dden ?

Speak — you ar e par doned st r ai ght .

No ? We can f i nd dumb dogs t hei r t ongues,

You r ebel r epr obat e ! '

Page 61 of 100

7 HE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE 103

They dr agged hi s mot her and si st er

I nt o t he open hal l .

' Gi ve up your men, i f t hese women

Ar e dear t o your hear t at al l ! '

He t ur ned hi s eyes on hi s si st er ,

And spoke t o her si l ent l y ;

She answer ed hi s si l ence wi t h speaki ng,

And st r ai ght f r om t he hear t spoke she :

' I f you bet r ay your count r y,

You spi t on our f at her ' s name ;

And what i s l i f e wi t hout honour ?

And what i s deat h wi t hout shame ? '

He l ooked on t he mot her who bor e hi m.

And her smi l e was spl endi d t o see ;

He hi d hi s f ace wi t h a bi t t er cr y.

But never a wor d sai d he.

' Son of my body— be si l ent !

My days at t he best ar e f ew,

And I shal l know how t o gi ve t hem,

Son of my hear t , f or you ! '

104 THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

He shi ver ed, set t eet h, kept si l ence :

Wi t h never a pl ai nt or cr y

The women wer e sl ai n bef or e hi m,

And he st ood and he saw t hem di e.

Then t hey br ought hi s l ovel y bel oved,

Desi r e of hi s hear t and eyes.

' Say wher e your men ar e hi dden,

Or say t hat your sweet hear t di es. '

She t hr ew her ar ms about hi m.

She l ai d her l i ps t o hi s cheek :

' Speak ! f or my sake who l ove you !

Love, f or our l ove' s sake, speak ! '

Hi s eyes ar e bur ni ng and shi ni ng

Wi t h t he f i r e of i mmor t al di sgr ace —

Chr i st ! wal k wi t h hi m i n t he f ur nace

Page 62 of 100

And st r engt hen hi s soul f or a space !

Long he l ooked at hi s sweet hear t

Hi s eyes gr ew t ender and wet ;

Cl osel y he hel d her t o hi m.

Hi s l i ps t o her l i ps wer e set .

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE 105

' See ! I am young ! I l ove you !

I am not r eady t o di e !

One wor d makes us happy f or ever ,

Toget her , you and I . '

Her ar ms' r ound hi s neck wer e cl i ngi ng,

Her l i ps hi s col d l i ps car essed ;

He suddenl y f l ung her f r om hi m,

And f ol ded hi s ar ms on hi s br east .

She wept , she shr i eked, she st r uggl ed,

She cur sed hi m i n God' s name.

For t he woe of her ear l y dyi ng.

And f or her dyi ng' s shame.

And st i l l he st ood, and hi s si l ence

Li ke f i r e was bur ni ng hi m t hr ough,

Then t he musket s spoke once, and wer e si l ent ,

And she was si l ent t oo.

They t ur ned t o t or t ur e hi ni f ur t her ,

I f f ur t her mi ght be— i n vai n ;

He had hel d hi s peace i n t hat t hr eef ol d hel j ,

And he never spoke agai n :

i o6 THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE

The end of t he ut t er most angui sh

The soul of t he man coul d bear ,

Was t he madhouse wher e t yr ant s bur y

The br oken shel l s of despai r .

By t he heaven r enounced i n her ser vi ce,

By t he hel l t hr i ce br aved f or her sake,

By t he year s of madness and si l ence.

By t he hear t t hat her enemi es br ake ;

Page 63 of 100

By t he young l i f e' s pr omi se r ui ned,

By t he year s of t oo l i vi ng deat h.

By t he passi onat e sel f - devot i on.

And t he absol ut e per f ect f ai t h ;

By t he t housands who know such angui sh,

And shar e such di vi ne r enown.

Who have bor ne t hem br avel y i n bat t l e.

And won t he conquer or ' s cr own ;

By t he t or ment s her chi l dr en have suf f er ed.

By t he bl ood t hat her mar t 3r r s wi l l gi ve,

By t he deat hs men have di ed at her al t ar s,

By t hese shal l our Li ber t y l i ve !

THE BALLAD OF SPLENDI D SI LENCE 107

I n t he si l ence of t ear s, i n t he bur den

Of t he wr ongs we some day wi l l r epay,

Li ve t he br ot her s who di ed i n al l ages

For t he Fr eedom we l i ve f or t o- day !

i o8 TO A CHI LD READI NG

TO A CHI LD READI NG.

Yes, r ead t he pages of t he ol d- wor l d st or y,

Of ki ngs of nobl e deed and nobl e t hought .

Of her oes whose r espl endent cr own of gl or y

Bound t hei r wi de br ows, unsought .

But be not sad because t hei r wor k i s ended,

And t hey have r est whi ch l i f e so l ong deni ed :

They st i l l l i ve i n t he wor l d whi ch t hey bef r i ended,

For whi ch t hey l i ved and di ed.

Gr eat deeds can never di e : al l t hr ough t he ages

Thei r f r ui t s i ncr easi ng ever gr ow and spr ead.

And many a deed unnamed i n wr i t t en pages

Li ved once — and i s not dead.

TO A CHI LD READI NG 109

And, God be pr ai sed, man' s wor k i s not compl et ed,

Ther e st i l l i s wor k on ear t h f or men t o do ;

Not yet , not yet ar e al l t he f al se def eat ed.

Not yet cr ownf ed al l t he t r ue.

St i l l t he wor l d needs br ave deeds and t r ue hear t s

Page 64 of 100

many,

Not yet ar e al l t he nobl e bat t l es won ! *

We t oo, my chi l d, may do deeds gr eat as any

That ever yet wer e done.

no ' WHATEVER THY HAND FI NDETH ,

' WHATEVER THY HAND FI NDETH .

Red, r ed t he sunset f l ames behi nd

The bl ack, bl ack el ms and hedges.

Al l t hr ough t he noon no l east l eaf st i r r ed,

But cr i cket s hummed and beet l es whi r r ed-

Now comes a br eat h of f r esh, sweet wi nd

Fr om si l ent pool s and sedge^ .

Al l t hr ough hot noon t he r eaper s st and

And t oi l , wi t h j est s and l aught er .

Beneat h t he bl azi ng ski es t hat bur n.

Then, l aughi ng st i l l , t hey homewar d t ur n

By t hr ees and f our s ; and hand i n hand

Go t wo t hat l i nger af t er .

' WHATEVER THY HAND FI NDS TH . . . ' i i i

And her e we l i nger hand i n hand,

And wat ch t he bl ackeni ng shadows.

Had we been bor n t o r eap and sow,

To wake when swal l ows st i r , and go

For t h i n chi l l dawn t o pl ough t he l and,

Or mow t he mi st y meadows.

Had t hat been nobl er ? Love of mi ne,

We st i l l had onl y st r i ven.

As now we st r i ve, t o do our best .

To do good wor k and ear n good r est , —

Al l wor k t hat ' s human i s di vi ne.

Al l l i f e, l i ved wel l , makes heaven !

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS.

Gi r dl ed wi t h el ms, wher ei n t he l oud r ooks bui l d,

Wi t h dr eamy hush of i t s r emot eness f i l l ed.

Wher e ever y sound t hat br eaks t he sl umb' r ous ai r

Accent uat es t he peace t hat l i nger s t her e,

One of God' s r est f ul gr ave- set gar dens l i es,

Wher e Hi s f l ower s sl eep t i l l He shal l bi d t hem r i se.

Page 65 of 100

The br oken hear t s t hat her e have l ai d i n f ai t h

Thei r dear est dead, t hemsel ves have t r yst ed Deat h,

Have gone t hemsel ves out of t he l i ght of day.

Fr om scent of r ose and f r agr ance of t he may,

And i n t he spot l ef t l onel y f or t hei r sakes.

Have made t hat qui et ness l i f e never makes.

But one new gr ave i s t her e. And he who l ai d

Under i t s t ur f a dear and l ovel y mai d,

Pl ant ed, bef or e hi s bi t t er est t ear s wer e shed,

A l i l y over t he bel oved head :

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS 113

And er e t he l i l y bl oomed he l ay besi de

That Li l y l ost who shoul d have been hi s br i de.

The l i l y t hat he pl ant ed l i ved and t hr ove

Over t he gr ave of bur i ed human l ove.

Al l t hr ough t he wi nt er ' s cr uel hour s and col d,

She l ay saf e cur l ed beneat h t he shel t er i ng moul d,

Yet ever l onged f or wi nt er t o be done,

That she mi ght br eak t o bud and see t he sun.

Long was t he wi nt er , and t he t ar dy spr i ng

She dr eamed of so seemed t o be t ar r yi ng

I n t he f ar wor l d of t he et er nal f l ower Sj '

Rel uct ant t o r evi ve t hi s wor l d of our s,

Wher e f l ower s must di e, and spr i ng her sel f must f ade,

That summer ' s per f ect t r i but e may be pai d.

The bi r ds who bui l t hi gh i n t he bel f r y t ovyer .

Had hear d t he l i l y si gh f or summer ' s hour ,

And at t he f i r st l ow t r emul ous br eat h of spr i ng,

A bi r d f l ew downwar ds t o her , t wi t t er i ng,

' O Li l y ! Spr i ng i s comi ng ; bud and br eak

I nt o your l ovel i est bl ossom, f or her sake. '

I

114 THE LI LY AND THE CROSS

Shi ver i ng wi t h j oy, t he wai t i ng Ul y hear d

That l ong- desi r ed, al l but despai r ed- of wor d.

She pushed asi de t he shel t er i ng moul d, and t hr ust

Her shar p l eaves upwar ds t hr ough ear t h' s yi el di ng

cr ust .

Di d ever yt hi ng a l i l y coul d have done

Page 66 of 100

To t ast e t he hour when she shoul d see t he sun.

Then over al l t he ear t h was f el t t he dear

And gr aci ous l i f e of t he r e- r i sen year ;

And vows of l ove wer e whi sper ed wher e t he wet

Dead l eaves l ay t hi ck about t he vi ol et .

And al l t he meadow, and t he or char ds gr ay,

Gr ew gr eener and mor e gl or i ous ever y day.

The l i l y gr ew ; at l ast her dr oopi ng head

Hung over her f or saken wi nt er bed ;

The sky was bl ue, t he el ms wer e gr een and f ai r .

And passi onat e l i f e pul sat ed' ever ywher e ;

' The sun, t he sun, ' she cr i ed, ' f or whom I gr ow !

O, I shal l di e wi t h l ongi ng f or i t so ! '

She coul d not see t he sun ! Upon her head

No gol den heat and r adi ance wer e shed.

THE LI LY AND THE CROSS 115

A shadow f r om t he cr oss by whi ch she gr ew

Fel l on her and deni ed i t t o her vi ew.

' What good at al l i s l i f e, ' she cr i ed, ' t o me,

I f I t he sun I l ove may never see ? '

But t he bi r ds whi sper ed, ' Li l y, be at r est !

The Mast er of t he gar den knowet h best ;

He gave t he l ongi ng, and He i s t oo good

To cheat t he hope He pl ant ed i n your bl ood ;

Tr ust Hi m and wai t — He wi l l not mock desi r e

Whi ch He Hi msel f di d i n your soul i nspi r e. '

The l i l y dr ooped and sor r owed — yet r esi gned

Li ved i n t he cr oss' s shadow, nor r epi ned.

She knew t he sun woul d some day shi ne f or her ,

And al l her l eaves t o f ul l er bei ng st i r .

And i f i t never smi l ed on her ? ' I nst ead

The Mast er of t he gar den wi l l , ' she sai d.

The days passed on, and ever y day t he sun

Thr ough hi gher heaven ar ose hi s cour se t o r un.

The l i l y woke f r om sl eep on East er day,

And her eyes opened t o a t ender r ay

Shed t hr ough gr een l eaves i nt o t he wai t i ng cup

Whi ch she so l ong had pat i ent l y hel d up.

i i 6 THE LI LY AND THE CROSS

And as compl et i on seemed her l i f e t o cr own,

Page 67 of 100

Al l she had al ways l onged f or now her own —

She saw t he Mast er of t he gar den pass

Among Hi s f l ower s, among t he gr aves and gr ass.

And at Hi s voi ce she f el t a st r onger bl i ss

Than had t hr i l l ed t hr ough her at t he sun' s f i r st ki ss.

' My l i l y now i s st r ong enough t o bear

The sunl i ght f or whi ch al l her l ongi ngs wer e.

The shadow of t he cr oss was best bef or e,

Whi ch now, gr own st r ong, she needs not any mor e.

Gaze on t he sun, t he shadow t i me i s past .

My pat i ent l i l y, and be gl ad at l ast ! '

DE PROFVNDI S 117

DE PROFUNDI S.

Ti r ed wi t h my wor k, and ver y t i r ed i ndeed

Of al l t hese t hi ngs men seek, and do not need,

Not base t o st r i ve t hei r way, and f ar t oo weak

To st r i ve f or what man needs and wi l l not seek ;

Ti r ed of t he cl amor ous wor l d, t he st r i f e and smar t ,

And, most of al l , t i r ed of t hi s beat i ng hear t !

Ah ! i f t o- ni ght my wor n- out soul mi ght gl i de

Out war d, a qui et l y- r et r eat i ng t i de.

Lose consci ous mi ser y, and be at l ast

One wi t h t he myst i c sea, di vi ne and vast —

And i f t he dawni ng of t hat hour supr eme

Wer e l i ght ed by your eyes, my soul ' s one dr eam !

Al l t he per si st ent desol at e r ef r ai n,

That moans f or ever i n my t hr obbi ng br ai n,

I i 8 DE PRO FUND I S

Of r ui ned peace and bl i ght ed hopes, woul d be

Onl y a l ovel y l ul l aby t o me,

Page 68 of 100

I f but my head wi t h al l i t s aches mi ght r est

For one br eat h' s space upon your br eat hi ng br east .

But even f or t hat sl eep, how coul d I bear

To l ose t hi s memor y, t hat has f ed despai r

And st ar ved my l i f e of j oy, yet has been al l

Wher eof my l i f e coul d make a f est i val ?

Yet I mi ght even bear t o l et i t go

I f you coul d l i f t i t f r om my l i ps and know.

You shal l not know, you never yet have known !

I choose t o di e, as I have l i ved — al one.

The savage sur ges, swel l i ng i n my ear s,

Wi l l dr own your voi ce, r emember ed al l t hese year s,

Wi l l dr own my memor i es, and t he hear t pai n- t ossed

That woul d have br oken, knowi ng i t s memor i es l ost !

THE MERMAI D 119

THE MERMAI D.

' I f on some bal my summer ni ght

You r owed acr oss t he moon- pat h whi t e,

And saw t he shi ni ng sea gr ow f ai r

Wi t h si l ver scal es and gol den hai r ,

What woul d you do ? '

' I woul d be wi se,

And shut my ear s and shut my eyes

Lest I shoul d l eap i nt o t he t i de

To cl asp t he sea- mai d as I di ed ! '

' But i f she char med you t i l l you gazed

Deep i n t he sea- gr een eyes she r ai sed,

Woul d you not l i f t her t o t he boat ,

Let t he oar s dr i f t , and moonwar ds f l oat ? '

' No, t hat coul d never , never be !

For sea- mai ds di e who l eave t he sea,

And no sweet mai den knows a char m

Coul d make me wor k her any har m ! '

THE MERMAI D

' But i f you t hus wer e st r ong t o f l ee

Fr om sweet spel l s woven of moon and sea,

Ar e you qui t e sur e t hat you woul d r each,

Wi t hout one backwar d l ook, t he beach ? '

' I mi ght l ook back, my dear , and t hen

Row back i nt o t he snar e agai n :

Or , i f I saf el y got away.

Page 69 of 100

Regr et i t t o my dyi ng day ! '

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN.

Sl eepl ess I l ay, t hough sof t l y r ocked

Upon t he bosom of t he ni ght ;

The st eadf ast st ar s l ooked down and mocked

My waki ng dr eams of dead del i ght ,

They ever l ast i ngl y as br i ght

As when her hand i n mi ne was l ocked.

The moon swept out t hr ough deeps of sky,

Di m t r ai l i ng cl ouds she l ef t behi nd ;

' Come out , ' she sai d, ' al l cl ouds pass by ;

Thou f or t hy soul shal t sol ace f i nd.

These f ever s of a t or t ur ed mi nd

My l i ght wi l l soot he — or sanct i f y. '

I r ose and passed wher e hawt hor ns gr ow

Besi de t he pat h wher e, gl ad and gay,

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN

I and my sweet hear t used t o go

By meadows wr eat hed wi t h new- mown hay ;

Thr ough f i el ds by moonl i t dew made gr ay,

I and my hear t went , sad and sl ow.

I r eached t he gar den wher e t he hops

Make f ai r y gar l ands ever ywher e,

Fr om each t al l pol e a dr eam- wr eat h dr ops,

And st r ong keen scent f i l l s al l t he ai r .

I saw t he pi xi es danci ng t her e

Thei r magi c dance t hat never st ops.

Ar ound t he pol es i n ci r cl i ng r i ngs

Fr om dawn of moon t i l l dawn of day,

Wi t h dewy cobwebs f or t hei r wi ngs,

They gl i de and gl eam and swi ng and sway,

And mor t al l i ps may never say

The song t hat ever y pi xy si ngs.

Page 70 of 100

And r ai nbows day has never seen

Wi t h unnamed col our s make t hem f ai r .

Thei r f eet ar e shod wi t h Spr i ng' s f i r st gr een,

Gr een gems of gl ow- wor ms deck t hei r hai r

That f l oat s upon t he moonl i t ai r ,

Li ke gol den webs on si l ver sheen.

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN 123-

Thei r dance goes on t hr ough al l t he year s,

But t hose who see i t , f ew t hey be.

Onl y by eyes whi ch many t ear s

And vi gi l s have made cl ear t o see

Ar e t hey behol den : and wi shes t hr ee

Ar e hi s t o whom t hat dance appear s.

My f i r st wi sh ? Ah ! what r oom f or doubt ?

The wi sh t hat eat s me ni ght and day :

' Woul d she wer e her e ! ' No t hought about

The ot her wi shes came my way ;

For r ound my neck her dear ar ms l ay,

And al l t he wor l d was wel l shut out .

How gl ad each was of each, and how

Li f e bl ossomed t hen, one hear t r ecor ds ;

I shal l r emember t hat , I know,

When l i f e i s wi t her ed up past wor ds.

And, shr unken, sl i ps t hr ough ear t h' s l oose cor ds :

I shal l r emember t hen as now.

Lost dr eam, t oo per f ect not t o br eak !

Yet her e I mi ght have hel d her now.

124 THE PI XI ES' GARDEN

And so f or ever — but she spake

( O my soul ' s voi ce, di vi nel y l ow ! )

' Ah, mi ght we but our f ut ur e know ! '

And I wi shed wi t h her , f or Love' s sake.

And l o ! a sea of bl ackness br oke

About us, and we knew our f at e.

Cl ose, cl ose we cl ung, and nei t her spoke,

So wi del y, wi l dl y desol at e

The dest i ny we coul d not wai t

Page 71 of 100

For t i me t o seal or t o r evoke.

Yet t o my hear t her s beat , al t hough

I t beat i n f ear and not i n bl i ss,

O f ool , t o cour t a deeper woe —

Toget her we had conquer ed t hi s :

No woe coul d l i ve beneat h t he ki ss

That j oi ned our soul s an hour ago.

' Woul d t hat we t wo wer e dead ! ' I cr i ed,

' And i n t he qui et chur chyar d l ai d ;

We shoul d sl eep sweet l y si de by si de,

Of past and f ut ur e unaf r ai d,

By never a hope or f ear di smayed.

Toget her , st i l l , and sat i sf i ed. '

THE PI XI ES' GARDEN 125

And as I wi shed i t , she was gone !

For t hat one gi f t no pi xi es gi ve.

I onl y woke, and woke al one.

As I hencef or t h must wake and l i ve,

Must ser ve and suf f er , st r ai n and st r i ve, —

And i n my eyes t he sunl i ght shone.

126 RONDEAU

RONDEAU.

Long ago, when yout h was gay,

We t wo dr eamed our l i ves shoul d gr ow

Li ke t wo f l ower s i n one sweet May —

And we t ol d each ot her so.

You ar e gone : Ti me' s f i nger s gr ay

Bl i nd my eyes wi t h shower f ed snow :

Hope and yout h l ook f ar away —

Long ago.

Yet t he summer wi nds, I know,

Wi l l bl ow sof t , one per f ect day.

Mel t t he snows and r oses st r ow :

' Ah, what col d wi nds used t o bl ow

When I was al one, ' you' l l say —

' Long ago ! '

Page 72 of 100

TOO LATE 127

700 LATE.

Lat e — t oo l at e — my bi r d i s dead

Vai n i s al l t hat can be sai d —

Al l my t ear s ar e mor e t han vai n

To br i ng back hi s l i f e agai n.

Her e he l i es upon t he snow,

Li t t l e bi r d t hat l oved l i f e so —

Never mor e t o wake and si ng

I n t he buddi ng days of spr i ng.

Never mor e, when wi nds of mor n

St i r t he gr een and dewy cor n.

And awake t he dr eami ng l eaves,

Wi l l he t wi t t er ' neat h t he eaves.

I shal l never hear hi m make

Musi c mor e f or l ove' s sweet sake-

Si ngi ng t o hi s wee br own mat e

I n t he pear - t r ee by t he gat e.

128 TOO LATE

I wi l l l ay hi m i n t he ear t h,

Wher e al l shapes of l i f e have bi r t h ;

Whence t he f l ower s wi l l gr ow and br i ng

Joy t o ot her bi r ds i n spr i ng.

I wi l l l ay hi m down t o sl eep,

Wher e t he summer wi nd may heap

Dr i f t ed r ose- l eaves whi t e and r ed

Over hi s gr een- cur t ai ned bed.

CHRI STMAS ROSES 129

CHRI STMAS ROSES.

When al l t he ski es wi t h snow wer e gr ay^

And al l t he ear t h wi t h snow was whi t e,

I wander ed down a st i l l wood way,

And t her e I met my hear t ' s del i ght

Sl ow movi ng t hr ough t he si l ent wood,

The spi r i t of i t s sol i t ude :

The br own bi r ds and t he l i chened t r ee

Seemed l ess a par t of i t t han she.

Page 73 of 100

Wher e pheasant s' f eet and r abbi t s' f eet

Had mar ked t he snow wi t h t r aces smal l ,

I saw t he f oot - pr i nt s of my sweet —

The sweet est woodl and t hi ng of al l .

Wi t h Chr i st mas r oses i n her hand,

One hear t - beat ' s space I saw her st and.

And t hen I l et her pass, and st ood

Lone i n an empt y wor l d of wood !

K

130 . CHRI STMAS ROSES

And, t hough by t hat same pat h I ' ve passed

Down t hat same woodl and ever y day,

That meet i ng was t he f i r st and l ast ,

And she i s hopel essl y away.

I wonder was she r eal l y t her e —

Her hands, and eyes, and l i ps, and hai r ?

Or was i t but my dr eami ng sent

. Her i mage down t he way I went ?

Empt y t he woods ar e, wher e we met ^

They wi l l . be empt y i n t he spr i ng ;

Thef cowsl i p and t he vi ol et

Wi l l di e wi t hout her gat her i ng.

- Bl i t I dai r e' dr eam one r adi ant day •

Red- l ose- wr eat hed she wi l l pass t hi s way

Acr oss t he gl ad and honour ed gr ass.

Ar i d t hen— I wi l l not l et her pass !

SUMMER 131

SUMMER.

I t ' s pl easant t o r est on a st i l e at noon

When t he meadow' s af l ower and t he mont h

i s June,

And t o t ake your ease on a summer day

When nobody' s l i kel y t o pass t hat way.

And i t ' s pl easant t o whi st l e and wal k a mi l e

For t he sake of passi ng a cer t ai n st i l e,

When i t i sn' t l i kel y t hat one woul d car e

I f somebody chanced t o be r est i ng t her e.

Page 74 of 100

132 GOOD ADVI CE

GOOB ADVI CE.

Be wat chf ul guar di an of t hose eyes of your s,

Those l i ght s t hat l ead t he hear t s of men your way :

Nor use t hem l i ke t he mar sh- l i ght t hat al l ur es

Al l passer s- by, and l ur es t hem al l ast r ay.

I ndeed, ' t wer e bet t er i f on me al one

The l i ght of t hose enchant i ng l amps wer e t hr own.

For pi t y' s sake l augh sel dom — and be sl ow

To smi l e t hat sudden smi l e t hat t hr i l l s one t hr ough ;

For when you smi l e, t hose f our sweet di mpl es show,

And no one knows t he mi schi ef di mpl es do.

Or , i f you must smi l e, smi l e on me. I f ear

No danger f r om your dai nt i est di mpl es, dear .

Speak l i t t l e. Ther e i s somet hi ng i n your voi ce

Whi ch seems t o send t he Engl i sh l anguage mad.

And when you say ' Be sad ! ' men hear ' Rej oi ce I '

And when you say ' Despai r ! ' t hey hear ' Be gl ad ! '

I know your har shest wor d must musi c be

To any man i n Eur ope except me.

GOOD ADVI CE 133

And never l et a hand t hat hol ds a r ose

Dr oop cl ose t o l i ps of man as t hi s t o mi ne.

I t i s t he br eat h of r oses, I suppose,

That st i r s t he bl ood of most of us l i ke wi ne :

And most men woul d have ki ssed your hand t o- day

Bef or e you snat ched i t and i t s r ose away.

And i f your hand i s t hr eat ened wi t h a ki ss,

Don' t f r own and bl ush and smi l e, i f you ar e wi se ;

For i f you do, a hand may come — l i ke t hi s —

And t ur n your f ace r ound t o your l over ' s eyes.

And t hen, and t hen — f or anyt hi ng I know,

Page 75 of 100

I t ' s possi bl e t hat he may ki ss you — so !

134 BETROTHAL SONG

BETROTHAL SONG.

As he who t he dead ni ght t hr ough unhappy wat ches and

wakes,

And i s gl ad of t he pal l i d sur f wher e t he f i r st wave of

mor ni ng br eaks,

As he l ong pent i n a dungeon i s gl ad of t he f i r st f r ee

br eat h.

As he who i s t or t ur ed wi t h l i vi ng i s gl ad of t he pr omi se

of deat h,

As he who i s wear y t o si ckness i s gl ad of t he ceasi ng of

st r i f e,

I am gl ad of t he t hought of your pr esence, of your f eet i n

t he ways of my l i f e !

As aut umn weeps f or t he summer , and ni ght gr i eves af t er

t he day.

As age r eaches ar ms back t o yout h, and December t hr ust s

hands out t o May,

BETROTHAL SONG \ 135

As al l t hat i s sad and unl oved desi r es al l t hat i s happy

and dear ,

As al l t hat i s st or my and dar k l oves al l t hat i s qui et and

cl ear ,

As despai r year ns back f or a l i f e bur nt out at an i dol ' s

f eet ,

My hear t year ns passi onat e af t er , whenever you l eave me,

sweet !

As t he woi r l d, wi t h i t s br oken l i ves, hopes ever , f or , ever

l ongs

For a new br i ght l i f e t hat shal l l i ght en i t s dar kness and

r i ght i t s wr ongs,

As t he st ar l i ght dr eams of t he moon, as t he moonl i ght

dr eams of t he sun.

So I dr eam of t he day t hat i s comi ng, when I and my

hear t shal l be one :

Page 76 of 100

When you who ar e one wi t h my hear t , wi t h al l of i t s

pl easur e and pai n.

Shal l be one wi t h my l i f e f or ever , and never l eave me

agai n !

136 I N PRAI SE OF WORK

I N PRAI SE OF WORK.

Whi t - Monday.

Good- mor ni ng, dear ! How t he wor l d i s gay !

Ki nd sun, t o shi ne on our hol i day !

We' l l wander away, my gi r l , my queen,

To wher e t he meadows ar e f r esh and gr een,

And wher e t he bl uebel l s and wi nd- f l ower s gr ow,

And f or get t he ci t y t hat hur t s us so.

We wor k al l our dul l l i ves l ong, my dear ,

Wi t h j ust f our br eat hi ng days i n t he year ,

Four whol e f ai r days i n whi ch we may do

What ever we car e t o, I and you.

May l augh and be mer r y, and see t he sun.

Four days i n t he year — and t hi s i s one.

Thr ough al l t he ot her desol at e days

We l abour sadl y, each i n our pl ace,

I N PRAI SE OF WORK 137

And Sunday' s a dol ef ul hol y day,

When we must n' t l augh, nor t he chi l dr en pl ay ;

I t ' s a br eat hi ng- pl ace wher e t he poor may gai n

St r engt h t o go on wi t h t hei r wor k agai n.

Wor k, wor k, st i l l wor k ! I t ' s al ways t he cr y.

Wor k i f you' d l i ve, and wor k t i l l you di e ;

Wor k f or your mast er s, t hey who si t

And i dl y t ast e t he sweet f r ui t s of i t ;

Wor k when t hey bi d you — and t hank t hem, t oo.

I f t hey' l l onl y gi ve you t he wor k t o do.

I don' t mi nd wor k — but i t ' s har d t o bear ,

To know t hat my dar l i ng si t s st i t chi ng t her e,

Wi t h her whi t e whi t e f ace and her t hi n t hi n hand.

Page 77 of 100

Just t o keep a dai nt y and i dl e band,

Who woul d dr aw asi de t hei r si l ks and f ur

For f ear t hey shoul d br ush agai nst one l i ke her .

Ther e i s none l i ke her — gent l e and wi se,

Wi t h her pat i ent mout h and her ear nest eyes.

O, my l i t t l e one, i s i t l ove or Fat e

That gi ves us poor t he r i ch t o hat e,

138 I N PRAI SE OF WORK

And gi ves t o t he r i ch t he poor as pr ey ?

What a quest i on t o ask on a hol i day !

So— no mor e quest i ons — j ust l et us si t

And wat ch t he sun and t he gol d of i t

As i t t ouches t he t r ees and t he gr eener gr ass ;

Let us hear t he l aughi ng chi l dr en pass,

And t he song of t he bi r ds and t he unsai d wor d

That i n t he ci t y i s never hear d.

Let me hol d your hand, and t r y t o f or get

That my hear t i s sor e, and your eyes ar e wet .

O, my gi r l , my gi r l , t her e wi l l never be

A home t oget her f or you and me,

Wi t h l i t t l e voi ces and l i t t l e f eet . . . .

You have not much l onger t o wor k, my sweet .

Yes — t he wor k' s soon over ! To sew al l day

And hal f t he ni ght i s t he common way.

Some l i ve on, wi t her ed, and some, al as!

Di e l i ke t he dai si es we pul l f r om t he gr ass.

I t i s wor k t hat i s ki l l i ng our sweet hear t s and wi ves,

And t he j oy and hope of our br oken l i ves!

I N PRAI SE OF WORK 139

So hur r ah f or wor k, and our mast er s dear ,

Who gi ve us f our days i n t he whol e l ong year —

Four days f or hope and f or l ove and f or r est ,

And t he r est f or wor k, t he gl or i ous and bl est ! . . .

God — hol d our hand on t he r eckoni ng- day,

Page 78 of 100

Lest al l we owe t hem we shoul d r epay!

no ON AN AUTUMN DAY

ON AN A UTUMN DA Y.

No man l i vet h t o hi msel f .

I n t he mel l ow hush of t he aut umn days,

When summer i s har dl y dead,

When t he cor n i s r eaped and t he hops ar e pi cked.

And t he woods cat chi ng f i r e gl ow r ed,

I t i s sweet t o dr eam t hr o' a l azy noon,

Wi t h t he gr eat sky over my head.

Wi t h your hand i n mi ne i t i s sweet t o l i e

On t hi s cl ose- cr opped meadow gr ass,

To wat ch t he r ooks go sai l i ng by.

And count t he sheep as t hey pass ;

To dr eam of our yout h and t he vani shed days

That wi l l come not agai n, al as !

O, t he dear dead days of t he l ong ago,

When we and t he wor l d wer e young,

ON AN AUTUMN DAY 141

Bef or e I guessed how t he ski es coul d f r own,

And t he hear t of a man be wr ung ;

When we wal ked, not wonder i ng, over t he f l ower s

That Fat e i n our pat hway f l ung.

When I dr eamed t hat t he wor l d woul d be al ways br i ght .

The ski es woul d be al ways bl ue,

That I shoul d be al ways st r ong i n t he r i ght .

And my sweet hear t be al ways t r ue ;

And t hat man' s best wor k was t o bui l d a nest —

The sof t est of nest s — f or t wo.

When I t hought t hat t he hear t s of al l men wer e pur e,

And t he hear t s of al l women br ave ;

When I t hought t hat al l I dr eamed I coul d do.

And al l I desi r ed coul d have.

O sea of t i me, you have wr ecked t hose dr eams,

Yet somet hi ng you l et me save !

Page 79 of 100

For t hough l i f e i s r ough and one' s dear dr eams di e.

One l ear ns by t or t ur e and t ear s

What t hi ngs ar e wor t hy a t r ue man' s hopes,

And what i s wor t h t r ue men' s f ear s.

And one hol ds some f ai t hs t o t he l ast , t hank God,

Thr ough t he wi l dest sur ge of t he year s.

142 ON AN AUTUMN DAY

O t he beaut i f ul ear t h, O t he past ur es smoot h,

The meadows qui et and f ai r .

The heaven of st i l l ness and sol i t ude

I n t he sun- war med aut umn ai r ;

O, t he ache of our hear t s as we t hi nk of t he t own

And t he hear t s t hat ar e achi ng t her e !

For t hi s we have l ear ned, t hat no t r ue hear t s dar e

To l i ve f or t hemsel ves al one,

Al one be gl ad of t he woods and f i el ds.

Si nce no man' s l i f e i s hi s own ;

Not hi s own but al l men' s, t hat r i ght may r ei gn

And wr ong may be over t hr own.

Sweet dr eam of my yout h t hat never has changed,

Dear sweet hear t , hel per and wi f e,

Shal l t he woman I wor shi p, t he man you l ove,

Bear t he shame of a peacef ul l i f e ?

No ! We f i ght t i l l t he Ki ngdom of God be come,

Or we br eak our hear t i n t he st r i f e !

THE MEADOWS OF LONG AGO 143

THE MEADOWS OF LONG AGO.

Oh t he sweet wi de meadows, t he el m- t r ees t al l ,

The l i l ac t hat gr ew by t he sout her n wal l .

The or char ds whi t e, and t he gar dens neat ,

The may, t he cowshps, t he meadow- sweet ,

The pal e dog- r oses i n ever y hedge.

The nar r ow pa: t h, by t he coppi ce edge,

The pat h we shal l wal k by, you and I ,

When t he whi t e moon r i ses, by- and- by —

The pat h we shal l wal k by ? No, ah no ! '

I t l eads t hr ough t he meadows of l ong ago.

Page 80 of 100

Our meadows ! They' ve bui l t a chapel t her e,

And a r ow of vi l l as, yel l ow and bar e ;

And down t he pat h wher e we used t o go,

St and squal i d cot t ages, al l i n a r ow —

And t he el ms ar e gone — and our wood' s gr een maze-

Wher e do t he l over s wal k now- a- days ?

144 THE MEADOWS OF LONG AGO

Not t hr ough our meadows ; t he sor di d year s

Have bui l t upon t hem — and al l our t ear s

Wi l l never t each t he dead gr ass t o gr ow

On t he t r ampl ed meadows of l ong ago !

A REASON I 4S

A REASON.

Why shoul d we t oi l when, af t er al l ,

A f ew shor t year s ar e al l we have

Wher ei n t o make good t hi ngs bef al l ,

And such soul as we have t o save ?

So l i t t l e t i me i s our s wher ei n

Wor k may be done, and t hen we must ,

The good and i l l , be cr umbl ed i n,

A l i t t l e handf ul of deat h' s dust .

Why do we seek t o sow a seed

Whose har vest we shal l never r eap ;

To say a wor d or do a deed

Wher eof we shal l no memor y keep

When l i f e i s gone and deat h i s her e,

And good and i l l r epor t ar e one.

And t he beni gn and j oyl ess year

Al i ke f or us ar e l i ved and done ?

L

146 A REASOM

What does i t mat t er what we do ?

What does i t mat t er what we say ?

Why shoul d we car e f or f al se or t r ue

Who onl y l i ve one doubt f ul day,

Why ? I f t hi s l i f e be al l we have,

Page 81 of 100

At l east we gr udge not al l t o spend —

The best wi sh we had, t hat best we gave-

And f i ght t he bat t l e t o t he end.

The f ut ur e and t he past of man

Each day cal l out f or each man' s best .

And he must bear hi s own soul ' s ban

Who l ocks hi s best wi t hi n hi s br east .

I f t hi s i s al l t hat shal l be our s,

At l east t her ei n be somet hi ng won,

Lest t he wor l d weep our bar r en hour s

Wher ei n no nobl e deed was done.

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE 147

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE.

God hel p us al l wher e' er we be,

God knows we need i t sor e !

God hel p t he men at sea t o- ni ght ,

God hel p t he wi ves on shor e

For O i t i s an easi er t hi ng

To sai l t he ocean wi de,

Than t o si t and see hope gr ow despai r

By a desol at e f i r esi de.

Last ni ght t he angr y sun dr opped dowr t

Li ke a bal l of f i r e i n t he sea,

And t he sul l en wat er heaved and moaned

' Neat h t he wei ght of t he st or m t o be.

And j ust one whi t e sai l f l ecked t he seaj

At t he out er edge of t he wor l d,

And t he l evel wast e of t he sand gl eamed smoot h

Wher e smal l waves pl ayed and cur l ed.

12

148 THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE

And, bef or e t he af t er - l i ght was gone,

The wi nd began t o r oar .

God hel p t he men at sea t o- ni ght ,

Page 82 of 100

God hel p t he wi ves on shor e !

The sun had set but a br eat hi ng- space

When t he wi nd began t o wai l ,

And over t he wast e of t he l eaden waves

Shone f oam l i nes t hi n and pal e.

The f ai nt i ng west was st r eaked acr oss

Wi t h bl ack and cl oudy bar s,

The angr y sunset bor e a ni ght

Wi t hout or moon or st ar s.

No moon nor st ar s, but a mad mad wi nd.

That f l ung t he f oam- f l akes wi de.

And l ashed t he sea t i l l i t smot e wi t h r age

Agai nst t he good shi p' s si de.

No st ar s nor moon, but a st r ange wi l d l i ght .

That was not moon nor st ar .

That l i t t he cr est s of t he cur l i ng sur f

That wr i t hes wher e t he r ock r eef s ar e.

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE 149

Hi gh r ose t he waves — wi t h a bi t t er l augh

Each wave dr ew up i t s head,

And t umbl ed shor ewar d wi t h a gr oan,

A l augh and a gr oan f or t he dead.

Bl ack, bl ack gr ew t he ni ght , and t he gl eami ng spr ay

Hi ssed over t he pebbl y shor e.

The wi nd caught i t up i n hi s evi l gr asp

To f l i ng at t he cot t age door .

War m- cur t ai ned t he wi ndow, and on t he wal l

The l ampl i ght and f i r el i ght pl ay ;

The cot t age woul d be a pl easant pl ace

I f he wer e not away.

The wi f e cower ed down i n t he f i r el i ght gl ow,

Her head upon her knee :

' O Chr i st , have pi t y on us t o- ni ght ,

And br i ng back my man t o me ! '

The wi nd went shr i eki ng about t he house.

And f ai n woul d an ent r ance wi n, -

Page 83 of 100

But door and wi ndow wer e bar r ed and f ast ,

And woul d not l et i t i n.

150 THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE

Ther e came a hush whi l e t he st or m t ook br eat h,

And down came t he dr i vi ng r ai n :

' I wi sh i t beat on my new- made gr ave,

For he wi l l not come back agai n ! '

But l ouder , l ouder t hunder ed t he waves,

The spr ay l ashed wi ndow and door ;

' And what wi l l my l i f e be wor t h t o me

I f he shoul d come home no mor e ? '

The wi nd went r oar i ng acr oss t he f oam

Wi t h i t s message of doom t o be ;

Ah, what wi l l t he wi nd do out i n t he ni ght

Bet wi xt t he wi de sky and sea ?

A r ush — a bl ast — f or t he wi nd has won,

I t has t hr ust t he shut t er asi de.

The l amp l eaps up — and di es on a f l ash,

And t he ashes ar e scat t er ed wi de.

And t he wi f e si t s on by t he bar e hear t hst one

And t he wi nd i s l or d of t he pl ace ;

I t l ays i t s hands on her l oosened hai r ,

And smi t es on her pal l i d f ace.

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE 151

The ni ght was bl ack upon sea and l and,

The ni ght i n her hear t was bl ack :

' I wi sh t he ear t h was over my head,

For he wi l l never come back ! '

Har k! I n t hr ough t he wi ndow a r ush of wi ngs;

Had an angel been sent t o save ?

Woul d her soul go up f r om t he wi nd- swept home,

And hi s f r om t he wi nd- swept wave ?

' Nay, I wi l l not di e t i l l I know hi m dead,

For O i f he shoul d come,

Woul d I l eave f or hi m what I cannot f ace,

The si ght of an empt y home!

Page 84 of 100

The wi ngs st i l l f l ut t er ed and near er came,

Ti l l a sof t pl ume her cheek car essed.

She put up her hands — ' t was a st r ay sof t bi r d

She caught and hel d t o her br east .

A st r ay l ost pi geon, wear i ed wi t h f l i ght

I n t he st r ess of t he st or my ai r ,

The t empest had bl own t o her human hear t ,

And f ound i t a shel t er t her e.

152 THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE

The bi r d f ound shel t er , and l i ght ed peace

I n t he hear t wher e i t r est ed t hus :

' I f God wi l l car e f or a bi r d l i ke t hi s,

I t r ust Hi m — He car es f or us ! '

She cl osed t he wi ndow and l i t t he l amp,

And she hel d t he whi t e dove f ast ,

That had been t hr ough t he st or m as her hear t had done,

And anchor ed i n peace at l ast .

And she knel t and pr ayed — ' Thou wi l t hear me now,

O Mi ght y on sea and shor e,

As t he wi ngs of Thy dove gui de t he boat ' s whi t e wi ngs.

And br i ng hi m saf e home once mor e. '

And t he st or m r aved on— when at l ast i t sl ept ,

Wor n out wi t h t he ni ght of doom,

Sl eep had come af t er t he ni ght of t ear s

I n t he l i t t l e cot t age r oom.

And t he wi nd, gr own ki nd, bl ew out of t he sky

The cl ouds i t had gat her ed t her e.

And t he sun r ose up on a bl ue bl ue sea.

And a heaven of cl ear sweet ai r .

THE MESSAGE OF THE DOVE 153

And t he sun i s mi r r or ed i n t wo br own eyes,

Wher e t ear s ar e st i l l gl i t t er i ng —

And a woman who st ands by her cot t age door

To see what t he day wi l l br i ng.

And hi s shi p i s t her e, and t he sun, and j oy,

Page 85 of 100

And good- bye t o t he ni ght and pai n.

For Fat e and Love ar e f or once agr eed

And t he boat i s saf e home agai n.

Ar i d what had gui ded t he whi t e war m bi r d,

And what l ed t he shi p ar i ght ?

Ask not of t he bi r ds t hat wer e l ost i n t he st or m

And t he shi ps t hat went down t hat ni ght ;

But ask of t he woman whose l ove was saved,

Or t he bi r d whose t i r ed wi ngs f ound r est .

And t hey wi l l answer — God r ul es t he st or m,

And al l t hat He does i s best .

154 LOVE' S ECONOMY

LOVE' S ECONOMY.

Love f i l l ed my cup wi t h t ear s and wi ne ;

I dr ank t he mi ngl ed dr aught di vi ne —

Gl ad t o t he soul t hat i t was mi ne.

Love cr owned my head wi t h t hor n and r ose ;

Such wr eat hs of r ose no t hor ns di scl ose ;

Onl y t he happy wear er knows.

Love gave me ashes, gave me br ead,

Fed on t he soul t hat on i t f ed.

And ki ssed my hear t unt i l i t bl ed.

Love gave me sunl i ght , gave me r ai n.

Love t aught me pl easur e, br ought me pai n,

And scour ged my soul wi t h l oss and gai n.

Yet di d t he gai n so f ar out wei gh

The i nf i ni t e l oss, t hat t i l l t o- day

I never wi shed my pai n away.

LOVE' S ECONOMY 155

Because I t hought t hat you, at l east ,

Wor e onl y r oses at our f east .

And hear d a song t hat never ceased.

But now I know t hat you, as I ,

Hear knel l s i n al l our r evel r y,

And, not f or passi on onl y, si gh ;

That you, t oo, bear a heavy cr oss.

And sway ' t wi xt sense of gai n and l oss,

And, r ent by t empest s, t ur n and t oss.

Page 86 of 100

I know not whet her , f or your sake,

I woul d not choose t hi s chai n t o br eak.

And — dr eam- ber ef t — meet l i f e awake.

And you — what woul d you choose ? Who knows ?

Si nce each one t o t he ot her shows

Onl y t he wi ne — t he smi l e — t he r ose.

156 THE LOVER TO HI S LASS

THE LOVER TO HI S LASS.

Wr eat hed wi t h del i ght t he wor l d i s br i ght ,

A mi l l i on buds ar e spr i ngi ng,

And June her dower of l avi sh f l ower

And scent ed ai r i s br i ngi ng ;

And al l t he way i s whi t e wi t h may,

The pal e dog- r ose i s bl owi ng.

And sweet er f ar , my dear , you ar e

Than any bud t hat ' s bl owi ng.

The bi r ds ar e gay t hi s f i r st June day.

And al l t he wor l d i s r i ngi ng.

Wi t h l ovel y not es f r om t hr ost l e' s t hr oat s.

And l i nnet ' s t ender si ngi ng.

Of l ove si ng t hey al ong t he way

Wher e you and I ar e goi ng.

Love — t he one t heme of summer ' s dr eam.

The one sweet t r ut h wor t h knowi ng !

THE LOVER TO HI S LASS 157

What mat t er , dear , i f vai n and dr ear

Men say a wor l d l i ke t hi s i s ?

What can t hey know, who cal l i t so,

Of summer , songs, and ki sses ?

Li f e' s shar pest t hor n may wel l be bor ne

I n yout h' s bl ue br eezy weat her ;

We' l l not compl ai n of any pai n

That f i nds us st i l l t oget her .

Toget her now, when r oses bl ow,

Page 87 of 100

And yout h bl ooms l i ke t he r oses ;

Toget her t oo, we one, we t wo

When l i f e' s dear st or y cl oses.

And one at l ast , when we have passed

Pai ns, pl easur e, pr ayer s, and pr ai ses,

And you and I t oget her l i e

Beneat h t he chur chyar d dai si es.

158 I N A NI NETEENTH- CENTURY EDEN

I N A NI NETEENTH- CENTURY EDEN.

Just f or t hi s once, t hi s once I wi l l be wi se !

No bl ossom her e shal l t ur n t o f r ui t f or me.

Thi s sweet hal f - cer t ai nt y t hat i s not doubt ,

Thi s sadness t hat j oy' s mi st s ar e wr eat hed about ,

These l ong l ooks, l engt hened out i n dr eams agai n,

I woul d keep t hese, r enounci ng ot her gai n.

I pl uck and wear my f l ower of Par adi se ;

I wi l l not have t he appl e i t mi ght be !

For f l ower s mean per f ume, pr omi se of del i ght

Mor e dear t han f r ui t has ever gr ant ed yet :

And f r ui t i s much t oo sweet , and much t oo sour ,

And, wi t h t he f i r st bi t e, one r egr et s t he f l ower .

The f l ower wi l l di e— but your cl ear eyes shal l weep

A gat her ed f l ower , whose f r agr ance t i me shal l keep,

And i t s whi t e memor y shal l l i ght my ni ght

— Dar k wi t h t he t housand t hi ngs one woul d f or get .

I N A NI NETEENTH- CENTURY EDEN 159

For — si nce we have not t al ked of l ove, but gazed

The one sweet second mor e t han ot her s do,

Touched hands, and known t he el ect r i c f l ash t hat f l i es

Fr om each t o each, t hr ough meet i ng hands and eyes,

Have dr eamed and doubt ed, quest i oned and r epl i ed.

And l aughed not gai l y, and not sadl y si ghed —

Al l we mi ght be and ar e not , — heavens unt r i ed —

I n each f or each et er nal l y abi de.

I am t o you what no man el se can be,

You, what no woman ever was t o me,

A spl endi d l i ght , a l i f e' s i deal r ai sed

Above t he dust mer e l oves degr ade one t o.

Yet , how r ef use, when l i ps l i ke your s i nvi t e ?

Page 88 of 100

When eyes l i ke your s l ook sad, how t ur n away ?

I cannot t el l you why my l i ps ar e f ai n

Fr om t hi s sweet of f er ed appl e t o r ef r ai n,

For , at t he wor d, our bl ossom shed woul d be

And t he mer e f r ui t be l ef t f or you and me :

The onl y wor d coul d save, woul d r ui n al l !

So — t he ol d t al e ! The bl oom wi l l sl owl y f al l .

The f r ui t gr ows r i pe — I , spi t e of wi l l and wi t ,

Must bi t e t he appl e i f you of f er i t ;

i 6o I N A NI NETEENTH CENTURY EDEN

Then wi l l t he dr eam- l i ght s f l i cker out and di e,

And we shal l wai l , awakened, you and I ,

That I t o you am not hi ng any mor e

Than what some ot her f ool has been bef or e,

And you t o me no mor e my sweet Dr eam- queen,

But what some f i f t y ot her f ool s have been.

I cannot save you, Eve ! Your appl e bi t e !

And — er e your t eet h have met — our wor l d gr ows gr ay.

DI VORCED i 6i

DI VORCE! ) .

I .

Hi s was a har d and common l ot ,

Whi ch t housands bear as wel l ;

He bor e i t meekl y — hi s was not

The nat ur e t o r ebel .

We never saw hi m sad — but t hen

We never saw hi m gay —

He never t al ked t o t he ot her men

He spoke t o ever y day.

He seemed a commonpl ace, who t r i ed

A good machi ne t o be ;

The col umns of a r ai l way gui de

Wer e not mor e dul l t han he.

Page 89 of 100

M

i 62 DI VORCED

The dr ear y r ound of of f i ce l i f e

Wher e ci t y cl er ks must move

He t r od — uncheer ed by chi l d or wi f e,

Unsanct i f i ed by l ove.

And when he di ed, st r ange hands l ai d bar e

Hi s dul l l i f e' s secr et spr i ng :

A r ose, a l ock of baby- hai r ,

And hal f a br oken r i ng.

I I .

A beaut y r adi ant as t he sun,

And bal ef ul as t he moon,

A woman f or whom yout h was done

Too ut t er l y, t oo soon !

A br i l l i ant br ai n t hat , st r ong and keen.

Pi er ced l i es wi t h mocki ng t hr ust —

A her oi ne t hat mi ght have been—

A j ewel i n t he dust .

She never si ghed— but t hen men say

They never knew her gl ad ;

She was t oo gi f t ed t o be gay,

Too wear y t o be sad.

DI VORCED 163

She of t en l aughed — a l augh, we knew,

To whi ch j oy l ent no br eat h,

She l aughed at al l t hi ngs sad and t r ue

— At chi l dr en, l ove, and deat h.

Yet , when t hey nai l ed her cof i Sn cl ose.

They l ai d besi de her t her e,

A br oken r i ng, a wi t her ed r ose.

And a l i t t l e l ock of hai r !

i 64 A CI TY CLERK' S CHRI STMAS DREAM

Page 90 of 100

A CI TY CLERK' S CHRI STMAS DREAM.

The of f i ce hour s wer e ended

A l i t t l e whi l e ago,

And f r i endl y and unf r i ended

Al i ke must homewar d go.

Long si nce t he noont i de' s hi gh l i ght

Di ed on t he of f i ce skyl i ght ,

And dr ear y wi nt er t wi l i ght

Was l ost i n gas - l i t gl ow.

I t r ead t he pavement cr owded

Wi t h busy ci t y men,

Whose soul s dar k vei l s have shr ouded,

Woven by i nk and pen.

AVer e but t he vei l s once l i f t ed,

The money- mi st back- dr i f t ed,

AVhat vi si ons changed and shi f t ed

Woul d r i se bef or e t hem t hen !

A CI TY CLERK' S CHRI STMAS DREAM 165

For me, my f ancy r anges

O' er si l ent hi l l and pl ai n ;

The noi sy pavement changes

I nt o a count r y l ane,

Wher e cr ushed dead l eaves ar e l yi ng.

And day and year ar e dyi ng,

And wi nt er wi nds ar e si ghi ng

Thei r desol at e r ef r ai n.

Past ghost l y el ms and beeches,

Past hedger ows gaunt and bar e.

My year ni ng hear t out r eaches

Thr ough f r ost y Chr i st mas ai r

To her , t o her , my t r easur e,

My onl y pr i ze and pl easur e,

Bel ovf ed beyond measur e.

And good beyond compar e.

I t hr ead t he l anes and meadows,

I know each i nch of way ;

' Twas her e we saw our shadows

Cast by t he moon of May.

Page 91 of 100

I 66 A CI TY CLERK' S CHRI STMAS DREAM

Wi t h r ed, wet eyes t hat smar t ed,

Her e at t he chur ch we par t ed,

Each al most br oken- hear t ed.

The ni ght I went away.

About her gat e t he r oses

No mor e ar e sweet and r ed.

And al l t he snow di scl oses

Ar e r ose- t hor ns br own and dead ;

But t hr ough her wi ndow gl eami ng

Her l amp' s war m gl ow i s st r eami ng—

The st ar of al l my dr eami ng.

Whi ch her e my st eps has l ed.

Hast e t hr ough t he gat e — go f ast er ,

O f eet , i f t hat may be.

And bear your eager mast er

To wher e she wai t s f or me ;

And hast e, O l onged- f or hour ,

Of al l my l i f e t he f l ower ,

When i n her wi nt er bower

Mi ne eyes my r ose shal l see !

A CI TY CLERK' S CHRI STMAS DREAM 167

Love, I am her e — O vi si on,

Dead e' er i t gai ned i t s cr own !

But t hat i s Fat e' s der i si on.

And t hi s i s Camden Town ;

And dr eams of l ove' s cr eat i ng

Fl y at my l at ch- key' s gr at i ng,

And Chr i st mas bi l l s ar e wai t i ng —

Good- eveni ng, Mr s. Br own.

1 68 THE BELFRY

THE BELFRY.

Her e bel l s once swung t hei r heavy t ongues

And cal l ed t he f ai t hf ul i n t o pr ayer .

Cl i mb up t he l adder ' s shaky r ungs,

And l et us see what now i s t her e ;

Page 92 of 100

Ther e now no cl amor ous bel l ' s t ongue swi ngs,

But gent l e, sof t , war m wi ngs.

The bi r ds bui l d i n t he bel f r y hi gh —

I n God' s own house t hey make t hei r nest s ;

And we have wat ched t hem, you and I ,

And envi ed t hei r unr uf Hed br east s.

And l ong t o f i nd some sur e r et r eat ,

And bui l d our nest , my Sweet .

Yet si nce we may not bui l d a nest

Wi t hi n t he chur ch' s shadow, dear .

I t sur el y wer e not al l unbl est

To bui l d a happy nest out her e,

Wher e al l t he wi nds of heaven bl ow

And r ose and hear t sease gr ow.

THE CHI LDREN 169

THE CHI LDREN.

Spr i ng ! — al most summer ! The wi nt er ' s gone, •

Hi s r ei gn i s over , hi s hour i s done !

Her e' s t he cr umpl ed gr een of t he new- bor n l eaves,

Her e ar e baby- spar r ows ' neat h cot t age eaves ;

And t he appl e or char ds ar e t hi ck wi t h bl oom,

And t he woods ar e gat her i ng t hei r summer gl oom;

And t he cot t age gar dens ar e gay and br i ght

Wi t h t he wal l f l ower br own and t he r ock- pl ant whi t e ;

And t he hear t of t he r i sen year beat s f r ee

I n meadow and f or est , i n f l ower and t r ee ;

And beat s i n t he pr i soned hear t s of men.

Ti l l vaguel y, vai nl y t hey l ong agai n

For t he j oy t hat i s pr omi sed by ever y spr i ng,

And whi ch no summer can ever br i ng.

And t he chi l dr en wander by f i el d and br ake.

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And cl ap t hei r hands f or t he dai si es' sake.

170 THE CHI LDREN

The bount i f ul summer l aughs and t hr ows

Her gar ment of gr een and her wr eat h of r ose

Over gr eat vi l e ci t i es t hat men have r ai sed,

Wher e her name i s unl oved and her sel f unpr ai sed,

And onl y gol d i s count ed of wor t h

Of al l good gi f t s of t he goodl y ear t h.

And i n t hi s deser t t hat men have made

Gr ow whi t e- f aced chi l dr en t hat never pl ayed

Wi t h dai si es and cowsl i ps, nor l aughed and l ay

On t he hot gr ay heaps of t he scent ed hay —

The poor pal e chi l dr en who never have hear d

The per f ect song of an uncaged bi r d :

They never have gat her ed a si ngl e f l ower ,

Or st r ayed t hr ough a wood f or a si ngl e hour —

They si t i n gr oups and t hey seem t o wai t .

Unf r i ended and hopel ess and desol at e.

Do t hey

yvai t f or t he her o who i s t o come

To t each t hem t he meani ng of l ove and home —

To t ake t h^ m away f r om t he heavy f r own

Of t he hi gh bl ack w: al l s and t he cr uel t own.

To wher e t her e i s l i ght and a r est f r om noi se,

And l ove f or t he chi l dr en of men, and t oys ?

Who i s t o save t hem ? Ah ! I and you

Have t he chance and t he choi ce t hi s f ai r deed t o do.

THE CHI LDREN 17 r

Wher e Gol d i s god, t her e t he chi l dr en must

Be gr ound ' neat h hi s wheel s i n t he bl oody dust ;

But i f Love be god — and a t empl e r ai sed

Wher e gol d shal l be cur sbd and l ove be pr ai sed—

Page 94 of 100

When t he t empl e i s cl ean and t he al t ar f ai r ,

The chi l dr en t hei r gar l ands shal l br i ng and bear

The f i r st of al l who shal l gat her t her e !

172 THE LOVERS' CHOI CE

THE LOVERS' CHOI CE.

We wal ked, we t wo, i n t he ear l y May,

Er e yet t he oaks or t he el ms wer e gr een,

Hand i n hand by a pl easant way,

Fr esh- l eaf ed hawt hor n hedges bet ween.

The sky seemed hi gh as our hopes and dr eams,

Our l ove was deep as t he eveni ng' s peace ;

And we sai d : ' Our l i ves, wher e our l ove' s l i ght gl eams,

What shal l we do f or t he wor l d wi t h t hese ?

' We cannot si ng and we cannot pai nt ,

I n sci ence and l et t er s we have no ski l l .

But we l ove sweet song, t hough our voi ce be f ai nt .

And we l ove Ar t wel l , t hough we ser ve her i l l .

And t o l ove, i t seems, i s al l we may do —

To l ove f ai r dr eams, i t i s al l we can ! '

And as we spake, we came upon t wo

Who sat by t he r oadway — a woman and man :

THE LOVERS' CHOI CE 173

A man and a woman, r agged and r ough,

Di r t y and desol at e, i dl e and sad —

Faces l ower i ng and coar se enough —

Bi t t er and br ut al , base and bad.

They st upi dl y st ar ed as we t ur ned t o pass

Sadl y and si l ent l y, she and I ,

When, wi t h cl ouds of dust t hat made gr ay t he

gr ass,

A man and a woman came r i di ng by :

A woman l ovel y, wear y and sweet .

Wear y as he who sat by her si de, —

Fr om her pr oud f ai r f ace t o her dai nt y f eet

Lapped i n l uxur y, cl ot hed i n pr i de.

Too r i ch f or goodness — f or j oy t oo r i ch.

Page 95 of 100

Kept war m f r om want i n a shel l of gol d.

And t he ot her woman, who cr ouched i n t he

di t ch.

Cur sed t he car r i age as by i t r ol l ed.

She cur sed t he t wo who went smoot hl y by

And i dl y not ed t he f i l t hy t r amp,

' A pest of decent soci et y —

A l eper t o dr i ve f r om t he soci al camp. '

174 THE LOVERS' CHOI CE

Fool s, f ool s al i ke ! The sneer i ng pai r

And t he cur si ng wr et ch i n t he waysi de di t ch !

O, you i n your car r i age, who put you t her e ?

Whose pover t y pays l i f e' s pr i ce f or t he r i ch ?

The r i ch man wear i es i n al l hi s st at e,

The poor man' s heaven i s vi ce and dr i nk ;

Each weaves hi s own and t he ot her ' s f at e.

One cannot t hi nk, and one wi l l not t hi nk ;

Each i s of each a cause and a par t .

And wi t hout t he one must t he ot her cease ;

Her e i s t he wor k of our l i ves, my Hear t ,

To l oose t he f et t er s of such as t hese.

I n t he gr een hedger ow sang a happy t hr ush.

The east gr ew dappl ed wi t h dr eams of r ai n.

The r ed sun f l amed t hr ough a bl ackt hor n bush,

And t he t r amps sl ouched of f down t he nar r ow

l ane —

Sl ouched t hr ough t he beaut i f ul wor l d of f l ower s.

The wor l d of r emembr ance, and l ove, and f ai t h ;

Out r age t o man, t o t hi s ear t h of our s,

A wal ki ng hor r or , a l i vi ng deat h.

THE LOVERS' CHOI CE 175

Then. we sai d, ' Behol d, we ar e young and weak,

And our onl y st r engt h i s t he l ove we bear .

And t hi s i s our wor k, t o see and t o speak

Thi s message, al ways and ever ywher e :

" I f some ar e r i ch, t hen must some be poor —

Page 96 of 100

I f none wer e r i ch, t hen none poor need be ! " '

Ah, l ove, t hi s key wi l l unl ock t he door !

The wor k i s r eady, f or you and me !

176 SPRI NG

SPRI NG.

' The spr i ng i s her e ! ' t he pr i mr ose says ;

The bi r ds exul t — ' The spr i ng i s. her e ! '

A vei l of buds, desi r ed and dear ,

I s t hr own acr oss t he l engt heni ng days.

The f ur r owed f i el d t hat was so br own

I s f ai nt l y gr ay wi t h wee gr een spear s.

Whi ch shal l be f r ui t f ul wheat en ear s,

The gol den aut umn' s gol den cr own.

The st i cky chest nut - buds unf ol d.

The al mond- bl ossom pi nkl y gl eams ;

The f r eshness of our chi l dhood' s dr eams

I s on t he moor , t he wood, t he wol d.

The f at , bl i t he bl ackbi r ds on t he l awn

Rej oi ce t o see t he gr ass gr own gr een ;

And st ar l i ngs, wher e t he t hat ched r oof s l ean,

Chat t er i n gr ay and wi ndy dawn.

SPRI NG 177

And spr i ng i s her e — but wi t h t he spr i ng

Come bi t t er wi nds, and col d, col d shower s

Wi l l t hese not sl ay t he wakeni ng f l ower s

And st ay t he buds f r om bl ossomi ng ?

No — i n despi t e of wi nd and r ai n,

The year wi l l add t o f l ower s new f l ower s,

Ti l l summer comes wi t h bur ni ng hour s,

And al l t he r oses l i ve agai n.

And we — no chi l l t hat t i me can br i ng,

No i cy wi nd of wor l dl y scor n,

Shal l ever make our soul s f or l or n

Of t hi s sweet pr omi se of t he spr i ng !

No col d, nor r ai n, nor wi nd i s st r ong

To sl ay Hope' s seed our hear t s wi t hi n ;

Fr eedom, we know, at l ast shal l wi n.

Page 97 of 100

Though Tyr anny endur es so l ong !

178 A DEDI CATI ON

A DEDI CATI ON.

I n any meadow wher e your f eet may t r ead,

I n any gar l and t hat your l ove may wear ,

May be t he f l ower whose hi dden f r agr ance shed

Wakes some ol d hope or numbs some ol d despai r .

And makes l i f e' s gr i ef not qui t e so har d t o bear .

And makes l i f e' s j oy mor e poi gnant and mor e dear

Because of some del i ght dead many a year .

Or i n some cot t age gar den t her e may be

The f l ower whose scent i s memor y f or you ;

The st ur dy sout her nwood, t he f r ai l sweet - pea

Br i ng back t he swal l ow' s cheep, t he pi geon' s coo.

And yout h and hope, and al l t he dr eams t hey knew —

The eveni ng st ar , t he hedges gr ay wi t h mi st .

The si l ent por ch wher e Love' s f i r st ki ss was ki ssed.

So i n my gar l and may you chance t o f i nd

Or r oyal r ose or qui et meadow f l ower ,

A DEDI CATI ON 179

Whose scent may be wi t h some dear dr eam ent wi ned,

And gi ve you back t he ghost of some sweet hour ,

As l i l i es f r agr ant f r om an August shower ,

Or ai r s of June t hat over bean- f i el ds bl ow,

Br i ng back t he sweet ness of my l ong ago !

I So DAFFODI LS

DAFFODI LS.

When l i f e was young, and suppl e- st r ong

As any hazel bough,

We t wo, my sweet hear t , wal ked al ong

By ways I t r ead not now ;

And t hough t he woods wer e br own and r ough,

The ai r was f r esh and cl ear ;

We coul d not dr i nk dr aught s deep enough

Page 98 of 100

To pl edge t he new- bor n year .

The boxes on your wi ndow- si l l s

Wer e sown wi t h mi gnonet t e ;

We used t o gat her daf f odi l s

Wher e woods wer e wi l d and wet ;

The yel l ow of t hem, how i t shone

Thei r bl ue- gr een l eaves among —

Bef or e t he t ast e of l i f e was gone.

When you and I wer e young !

DAFFODI LS

They gr ew i n sheet s of cl ot h of gol d

Above t he t r ee- r oot s br own,

And you and I , by f ar m, and f ol d,

And f i el d, went wander i ng down ;

The mi ght of spr i ng was i n t he ai r .

Her pr ai se was on my t ongue.

Her daf f odi l s wer e i n your hai r .

When you and I wer e young.

I wonder i f t he daf f odi l s

Gr ow gol dl y now, as t hen —

I f st i l l t hei r f l ash of gl or y f i l l s

The meadow, copse, or gl en ?

I do not know, I onl y guess,

These bunches, t i ght l y t i ed,

Of f adi ng gol den l ovel i ness.

Once gr ew i n gol den pr i de ;

Not t hi ck, gr een, j ui cy st al ks, t hat bent

To t ur n t he st at el y head

The way t he wi nd' s l ast whi sper went ;

But t hi n st ems, near l y dead,

i 82 DAFFODI LS

Spl i t at t he ends, and cur l i ng up,

Tor n f r om t he ki nd, wet sod,

Page 99 of 100

On whi ch each bor e i t s gol den cup

And hel d i t up t o God.

These daf f odi l s t he f l ower - gi r l s sel l

Ar e onl y l i ke i n name

To t hose t hat decked t he woody del l

Wi t h wr eat hs of pal l i d f l ame.

Ah ! do such gr ow — or di d I dr eam

They used t o gr ow ? Who knows ?

As l ost as hopes, my dear , t hey seem.

And you as l ost as t hose !

And I — t he vi gour and t he l i f e.

The f r eshness and t he spr i ng

That wer e t o st r engt hen f or t he st r i f e,

And bl ess me, conquer i ng ;

Yout h' s dr eams and hopes — t he l at ent power

Of l i f e, when l i f e was May —

Dead — dead as ever a gol den f l ower

We pl ucked and t hr ew away !

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE 183

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE.

When baby June ki ssed dyi ng May,

And on her shr oud wi l d r oses l ai d,

I passed wher e l eaf y woods wer e gay —

Al l gol d, and gr een, and shi ne, and shade ;

Wi t h wear y f eet , and hear t af r ai d

To t el l i t sel f how l i f e was gr ay.

Awear y of t he ways of men.

Awear y of my own way t oo ;

Ti r ed t o t he soul of book and pen.

And what t hese do and wi l l not do, —

I passed t he beechen coppi ce t hr ough

And r eached a hi dden qui et gl en.

Bl ue sky, gol d sun, and pear l - whi t e cl oud

And weal t h of l eaves and l avi sh f l ower s.

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE

Page 100 of 100

What wer e t hey t o a hear t t he l oud

Rough wor l d had cl ai med t oo many hour s ?

I f el t I coul d not f eel t he power s

That ar e not f el t among t he cr owd.

What coul d I car e f or bud or br eeze,

Or any sweet t he summer br ought ?

My hear t was shut away f r om t hese,

Cl ose wound i n mummy- f ol ds of t hought ,

Out of t he r each of al l t hat sought

To t each l i f e' s open myst er i es.

Gone was my yout h, and hope was gone,

And l ove wi t h t hese had ceased t o be :

Ol d, i l l , unchangeabl y al one.

What wor d coul d summer have f or me

That woul d not be a mocker y.

Si nce al l t he sweet s of l i f e wer e done ?

A bl ackbi r d whi st l ed, and a bi r d

Far down t he meadow made r epl y :

Then came a f oot st ep, and I hear d

A mur mur and a sl i ght l i ght si gh.

And sl owl y passed t wo l over s by.

Wi t hout a si ngl e spoken wor d.

THE MESSAGE OF JUNE 185

I saw t hem pass, and t hen I st r ove

St i l l t o cal l summer vai n, f or soot h !

The summer l aughed t hr ough al l t he gr ove.

Laughed, and decl ar ed t he spl endi d t r ut h.

The i mmor t al i t y of yout h,

And t he et er ni t y of l ove !