m If- i'i^MK S^y- Lt^/j fi^l :m^m^ Cornell University Library PR 5705. W67 1902 The collected poems of Samuel Waddington 3 1924 013 566 801 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013566801 COLLECTED POEMS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. SONNETS AND OTHER VERSE. Fcap. 8vo. zs. 6d. "That these poems are above, it would not be too much to say far above, the average of the verse of the day, is evident enough." — Spectator. "The workmanship of the sonnets is scholarly and delicate, and th ey express the graver and wiser thought of the age. " — IVesiininsier Revieiv. A CENTURY OF SONNETS. Fcap. 4to. 4^. 6d. " Both as a writer of sonnets and an authority on the subject, Mr. Waddin^ton has done good work. The present volume is worthy of his reputation as a scholar and a -poot."— Saturday Review. "Some of the nature sonnets are exceedingly lovely." — Mafichester ExafnineriJ. Ashcroft Noble). " All the sonnets are good in thought and expression, and some are beautiful." — A thenaeuni. "Mr. Waddington writes a sonnet with the skill and grace of a poetical virtuoso . . . the thought is high, the feeling simple and sincere in them all." — Scotsman. " Few will be found to refuse admiration to the fine seriousness, the moral enthusiasm, and the serenity — of strenuous earnestness rather than of cold indifference— which are everywhere the dis- tinguishing notes of these poems." — Academy. POEMS. Fcap. 8vo. 4J. 6^/. "A small book of real poetry. Each poem has a charm of its own." — Liverpool Mercury. '' Mr. Waddington has yet but a small public, although he has written sonnets amongst the best of the century . . . but if we happen to dip into his work we shall joy as did Keats on comiug across Chapman's 'Homer.* " — New Age. THE COLLECTED POEMS OF SAMUEL WADDINGTON Ygwiryn erbyn y byd LONDON GEORGE BELL AND SONS 1902 CHISWICK press: CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. TO OF PREFATORY NOTE. Several of the poems included in this volume, as, for instance, that entitled 'Lux Naturae' and the lines at page 194, have not been previously published. A few of the sonnets have appeared in the ' Westminster Gazette,' and the stanzas on ' A Pipe of Carved Olive- Wood,' and the sonnet 'To Truth, the Saviour,' were printed in ' Literature.' The other poems and sonnets have been selected from the author's three preceding volumes. If it should be urged therefore that these are his 'selected' rather than 'collected' poems, it may be stated in reply that the contents are here collected together from various sources, although the volume does not contain all the author's compositions in verse. The sonnet entitled 'Beata Beatrix,' which was originally written for the! Beatrice Exhibition at Florence in 1890, via PREFATORY NOTE. has recently been included in Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff's 'Victorian Anthology,' and that named 'Rosa Mariae ' in Mr. Orby Shipley's ' Carmina Mariana.' The sonnet 'From Night to Night,' which first appeared in the ' Academy,' and was afterwards quoted in extenso in the ' Athenaeum,' was subsequently included in Mr. William Sharp's sonnet-anthology, in Mr. Miles's ' Poets and Poetry of the Century,' and in various other works. The rondeau on ' The Coquette ' was reprinted in Mr. Davenport Adams's ' Latter-Day Lyrics ' and in Mr. Gleeson White's 'Ballades and Rondeaus,' and the sonnet ' Literature and Nature ' was included in Mr. Andrew Lang's ' Ballads of Books.' The verses entitled 'The Lost Cipher' were amongst those selected by Dr. Forshaw for his ' Gems of Poesy,' published in the spring of the present year, and the roundel 'Mors et Vita ' was printed by Professor Raymond in his ' Genesis of Art-Form.' The sonnet to the River Wharfe ('My Native Stream ') was recently reprinted in Mr. Speight's very able and interesting work on ' Lower Wharfedale.' 47, Connaught Street, Hyde Park, W. CONTENTS. PAGE Poesia i Sonnet to W. J. H S The Land of Dream 6 ' The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled ' . . 7 A Pipe of Carved Olive-Wood 8 ' Is there light upon the uplands ' 11 The Lost Cipher 14 The Infinite .... 16 To Victory 18 On the Heights 23 Sonnets of the Sanctuary: 1. To Truth, the Saviour ... 29 2. To a Sister of Mercy 30 3. St. Francis of Assisi 31 4. Refugium Peccatorum 32 5. What Gospel? 33 6. Self-Sacrifice '. 34 7. ' They will not part or pass ' 35 8. Faith and Love .... 36 9. ' Christ is not dead ' 37 10. The Battle of Belief. 1 38 11. II 39 12. The Beaten Track . 40 X CONTENTS. PAGE 13. ' Great is thy gain ' 4' 14. The Quest 42 15. The New Light 43 16. The Penitent 44 Mots et Vita 47 Man 4? Sister Ursula 49 In Memoriam J. A. N 53 North Wales 54 Rest 55 ' And wouldst thou still more beauteous be ' 56 Morning 57 The Inn of Care 58 A Homily ^ 60 The Catacomb of St. Callixtus 61 The Bat 63 The Aldebaran Spirit 67 Prince Lucifer 68 The Pedlar's 'Apologia' 69 Moira 72 Giuseppina 78 Beata Beatrix 79 Baden-Baden 80 Calabria 82 The Song of the Sirens 84 Sonnets of Love's-Bower : 1. The New Dawn 87 2. Sweet-heart 88 3. Beauty and Duty 8g CONTENTS. xi PAGE 4. The Aftermath 90 5. After Long Years 91 6. Through the Night-Watches 92 7. Love-Memories 93 8. Late Fruit 94 9. A Home in Hampshire 95 10. The Neophyte 96 ' If thou wert true as thou art fair ' . 99 The Coquette loi Madrigal 102 Amoris Integratio 104 Stanzas composed at Voiron 105 ' Fairer than the fields of Enna ' . . . . . . 108 'O blithe the day' 109 Eternity ,110 The Church at Femey in Nemi 112 Usque ad Finem 115 'One with Another' 116 Man's Immortality 118 A Poem for Penelope 119 The Mawddach 120 The Road to Macugnaga 123 The Triumph of Life 13° Lux Naturae 134 The Human Mind 140 Sonnets of Nature and Life: 1. Nature's Voices 143 2. Helvellyn 144 Xll CONTENTS. PAGE 3. Itinerants 145 4. Krakatoa 146 5. The Old Homestead 147 6. My Native Stream 148 7. Night-fall 149 8. Dort 150 9. In the Piazza di S. Marco 151 10. Chateau Freyr 152 11. Soul and Body 153 12. Almond- Blossom 154 13. 'Prom Night to Night' 155 14. Wood- Wanderings. 1 156 15- n 157 16. Gipsies, near Dolgelly 158 17. Ad Matrem 159 18. To One in Town 160 19. The Romani Tribe 161 20. A Metaphysic ' Cul-de-sac ' 162 21. The Gardens of Nereus 163 22. Laleham 164 23. Literature and Nature 165 24. Human 166 25. Rosa Mariae 167 26. Giordano Bruno 168 27. The Cabinet 169 28. On the Summit 170 29. In the Woods of Sweet Chestnut 171 30. To-Day 172 31. The Solitary 173 32. Nantglyn 174 33. What Hope is Thine? 175 CONTENTS. xiii PAGE 34. A Gipsy Girl 176 35. Worship 177 36. Genesis 178 37. Nature 179 38. Liberty 180 39. In Transitu 181 40. Memorials of Travel 182 41. Le Sappey 183 42. A Persian Apologue 184 43. Daisy 185 44. The House of Life ./ 186 45. The Portal 187 46. Religio Laid 188 The City of God 191 ' O Birds, Happy Birds ' 194 Finite and Infinite 197 The Paradise of Song 199 La Fontaine d'Amour 201 ' Love comes no more ' 205 Dii 207 Lines written by Rydal Water 208 Napoli 209 In the Champs Elysdes 212 Omnia Somnia 215 The New Epiphany 217 Giotto's Tower ^ 220 The Foes at Home 221 La Constante Speranza 222 From Leonardo da Vinci 223 Sonnet by Raphael 224 xiv CONTENTS. PAGE L' Amour Fugitif 225 From Hugo HoUandius 226 Sirmio • ■ 227 The Watermamma 238 Notes 229 COLLECTED POEMS POESIA. 'ASv n TO \pi9iipiaiia kqi a irirvg, aivoXe, rrjva, A TTori Tdig vaycuai /liKiaSsTai, Theoc. Still hovers round life's stormy sea The deathless soul of Poesy, And still it lingering loves to brood 'Mid many a mountain solitude ; By some dim gorge's hid retreat It rests where crag and torrent meet, Far from the hapless haunts of men. By rock-strewn ghyll, or mossy glen ; A message yet it hath for thee, — List, poet, listen reverently ! I. Dream-winged wanderer, with me fly, I will lift thy soul on high ; In the morning and by night Thou shalt dwell in holiest light : B POESIA. Where the quiring minstrels roam, 'Neath the sky's encircling dome, Visions such as angels love Shall thine inmost spirit move, — Shall the new Light's mystic rose To thy fearless eyes disclose, Watching from some dewy lawn Sacred heralds of the dawn Glance across thy garden-way. II. Fleet fore-runner of the day, On the upland breezes borne, Let thy song salute the mom ; Let thy thrilling strain be heard Like the wild notes of a bird, Waking all the forest dim With melodious matin-hymn ; Let thy voice, now night is fled, To the faery Fount be wed. Casting round in jewelled spray Carols of the new-born day, — Fount of song ! that, light of heart. POESIA. When the dusky clouds depart Flings its rapture to the skies. in. Higher yet, and yet arise Higher than the falcon flies ! O'er the ancient narrow scope Rising to Life's higher hope, Let thy silvery pinions shine High above the olden line ; Let thy spirit long to be Truth-enfranchised, and set free From past error's tyranny ; From grim visions and uncouth, From the whisperings of untruth ; Dreams that mock and trick the soul And man's sorrowing heart cajole With what is not, nor shall be. Hallowed by veracity. To such mansions in the air Be thy rhymes no rhythmic stair ; But the happier task be thine Here to build a holy shrine, POESIA. Where 'mid fairest flowers divine Love his sheltering arms may twine Round the weary hearts that pray, Waiting, watching, for the day. IV. 'Tis the morn ! in wild affright Terror trembling takes to flight ; With the cohorts of the night Now the shadows backward flee ; Now each heart keeps jubilee ; Morning breaks on Hebron now, — Poet, speak, why waitest thou ? 'Mid the revellers in the inn Play not thou the harlequin ; Raise thy vpice above the din ; Let the sacrifice begin ! On Truth's altar cast thy pride. Lay thy mummer's mask aside ; With thy .heart revealed and bare, Fearless in the sunlit air, Poet, from thy liUed lawn. Greet the light, proclaim the dawn. SONJS/ET TO IV. J. H. A Child of Song went forth to roam Amid the golden dells of rhyme : Above him gleamed an azure dome, — He heard the choric voices chime From age to age across the foam And breakers on the shores of Time : He strove the upward paths to climb ; Then turned and idly wandered home. Oh, he had gathered wondrous flowers From faery nooks and wayside bowers ; Oh, he had made a garland meet To crown the best that he might see, — He lays it gladly at thy feet, And gives this offering unto thee. THE LAND OF DREAM. To Pyrrho. WouLDST thoUj Pyrrho, linger where Lotus-blossom scents the air ; Wouldst thou thro' weird forests wander Where the frolic fairies dwell, And the mazy streams meander Round the beds of asphodel ; Wouldst thou soar to realms of Love 'Mid the starry worlds above ; Or, still fairer to thy mind, Wouldst thou Truth's hid temple find ; — Then, dear Pyrrho, as we deem. Thou must seek the Land of Dream. 'THE SPRING COMES SOFTLY FROM THE SOUTH BEGUILED^ The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled, Bearing a garland for my Love to wear ; Laughing he cometh like a little child That joys to find a -rtrorld so passing fair : With heather-bells and kingcups everywhere, And honeysuckle clusters, — he hath piled The sweet thyme budding on the mountains bare. The fragrant meadow-blossom undefiled. And I go singing on the uplands wild, So blithely singing in the morning air, — The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled Bearing a garland for my Love to wear. A PIPE OF CARVED OLIVE-WOOD. I. With flowers chased and filigree Of leaves around the bowl and stem, Across the seas 'twas brought for me A present from Jerusalem ; Now on my mantle-shelf it lies, The alien child of orient skies. II. Haply in Kedron's rocky dell, Ere Saladin the host o'erthrew, By steep Siloam's limpid well This olive-wood erst drank the dew ; Or in far days that men forget It graced, perchance. Mount Olivet. A PIPE OF CARVED OLIVE-WOOD. III. Nay, where the oaks of Mamre gleam Down that wide glen where Hebron lies, And of past glory loves to dream As from its tower the daylight dies, There haply Rachel plucked the fruit Where spread this olive's parent root. IV. When from the carven bowl arise Thick clouds of incense round my head, Strange visions mount before mine eyes — A resurrection of the dead — Of dynasties long past and gone. Of empires lost and victories won. v. I see the creeds and systems pass That shaped the world in years of yore ; They meet my gaze as in a glassj They go, and they return no more ; Crude phantasms of the human mind That thro' dark ages ruled mankind. lO A PIPE OF CARVED OLIVE-WOOD. VI. O antique world, so calm, so still ! What Pyramids of hope and fear 'Twas thine to build with wizard skill While mute the Sphinx sat watching near, And Life and Death remained for thee A dark, an unsolved mystery. VII. Not Caesar and not Pharaoh now In Egypt, or in Rome, abide ; Gone, gone for ever from each brow The conqueror's wreath, the victor's pride ! Yet still the Night brings back the dawn To heath-clad hill and dewy lawn. VIII. And children where the lilies blow Are blithe amid the buds of May ; And still the Hebrew maidens go With fisher-lads at close of day Where gnarldd olives glimmer yet By Jordan and Gennesaret. II 'IS THERE LIGHT UPON THE UPLANDS V Is there light upon the uplands, breaks the dawn along the sea', — Do the buds of promise blossom, is it well with thee and me? What the herald prophets whisper doth the crowd with welcome greet, Do the echoes of the mountains still their hallowed truths repeat? Stars that shoot across the darkness vanish where we may not see ; And if still the darkness hnger, what, O soul, is that to thee? Though the creeds of Folly fail not, though the lamp of Truth burns low. Though here still upon our altar loom the shades of long ago,— 12 'IS THERE LIGHT Yet the day is waxing stronger, clearer light is shed around ; And with garlands of new worship soon Endeavour shall be crowned. Though the waves that shoreward hasten vanish back into the sea, Yet the flowing tide advances, and 'tis well with thee and Fairer than the night of sorrow, hours of dolour un- defined, Comes the dawn of matin gladness bringing sunshine to the mind : Fairer than the dream of Eden and the human-race con- demned. Is the gospel of Good-service, and all men by Man reclaimed : Fairer than the suppliants kneeling, and the cries to heaven above, Are the brave heart's honest Labour and the creed of Human Love : UPON THE UPLANDS?' 13 'Mid the shadows though we wandered, phantom shadows of the brain, Now earth's ' Jubilate ' soundeth, and our hearts are glad again : For we know that joy abideth with the soul that still is true, And all men shall reap their harvest, every man shall have his due. 14 THE LOST CIPHER. The Night her occult manuscript Unrolls along the sky, And with her mystic words equipt The racing winds rush by ; They bear her message, — what is it ? Go, ask the winds what she hath writ. The radiant Morn once more returns, Once more the golden dawn Illumes the scroll each eye discerns On meadow-land and lawn ; Each flower a word dropt from above, - What is the message, — is it Love ? Yet shalt thou see ere sets the day And all its splendours pass, The hawk descending on its prey, The adder in the grass ; THE LOST CIPHER. IS Far oflf the thunder muttereth, — What is the message, — is it Death ? O Spirit of the Universe, That hast been and shall be. Here still thy riddle we rehearse Yet cannot find the key ; Lost is the cipher that we need Who fain thy manuscript would read. i6 THE INFINITE. Far off, and very far ! Beyond the crystal sea ; Beyond the worlds that are Unknown, or known to be ; Beyond the pearly star ; The clustering nebulae ; -Beyond dark gulphs we see Where rolls no glittering car — At last, at last, we come to thee. The finite to Infinity ! II. Ere yet, and evermore ! Before the day's delight ; Before the dawn, before Apollo in his might THE INFINITE. 1 7 Sped forth by sea and shore ; And after many a night. When all the Hours take flight, Forth issuing from Death's door — Behold, behold, in death's despite Eternal looms the Infinite ! TO VICTORY! (A Marching Song for the New Year.) ' I set the trumpet to my lips and blow.' — Swinburne. I. Come ye, come soldiers brave and true, Fall in, and step together ! Your flags unfurl — the bugles call — . Come strong-souled warriors one and all ; The foemen linger round the wall. Yet still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! II. The far hills gUsten with the dawn ; Fall in, and step together ! The clouds dispart, they pass away ; O'er hearts long watching for the day Now knowledge sheds a clearer ray, TO VICTORY. 19 And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! III. Ye priests and prophets famed of yore, Fall in, and step together ! The hour of Discord now hath fled ; Soon faiths unfaithful shall lie dead ; The light is dawning overhead, And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! IV. To meadows rosy with the morn, — Fall in, and step together ! To happier homes with eager heart We march,— we take the Toiler's part ; The Commonweal shall be our chart, And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! 20 TO VICTORY. V. Ye statesmen, ye of factious strife, Fall in, and step together ! Relieve the accidents of fate ; Toil for no Party, but the State ; For selfish aims your zeal abate ; Then still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! VI. Where children pine and children weep, Fall in, and step together ! Arise, O stalwart souls, and bring Peace to the spirits sorrowing ; Then shall your children's children sing. And this their song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! VII. O mourners, now the night is past, Fall in, and step together ! TO VICTORY. 21 Let every man his Duty do ; To all and to himself be true ; Soon shall ye reap what is your due, And still your song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! vin. The New World crieth to the Old, Fall in, and step together ! Ere bloody Anarchs raging come. Ere mad Despair invade your home, Let Christ reconquer Christendom ; Then still your song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! IX. O Love reborn, O Life renewed. Fall in, and step together ! With sprays of Mercy ever twined. Let Justice in life's garland bind Peace and goodwill to all mankind ! 22 TO VICTORY. And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march togethei; ! X. Then come, ye soldiers brave and true, Fall in, and step together ! Your flags unfurl — the bugles call — Come, warriors, come — for one and all Now Right with Might we will install. And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — ^we march together ! 23 ON THE HEIGHTS. Here where the heather blooms 'Neath the blue skies, Here let us rest awhile, What, if Time flies,— Joy yet awaiteth us Ere the day dies. See, how the pathway creeps Round the cliff-side ; Serpent-like seemeth it Upward to glide ; Here 'mid the heather long We will abide. Nature, around us, lies Placid and still, — Nature ! thy children, we Wait on thy will,. 24 ON THE HEIGHTS. Happy and silent here, Here on thy hill. Are we not part of thee, Born of thee, thine ? Shall we not come to thee, — Kneel at thy shrine ? Nature, we turn to thee. Thou art divine ! Peace that is sweet to us, Strife for its leaven, Hate that is hell to us. Love that is heaven, — These for our good, we know, Us hast thou given, Self-love, a secret force Goading us on ; Sympathy holding us Bound-fast in one, — Creature to creature linked. Father to son. ON THE HEIGHTS. 2$ Hope in the morning, and Strength at the noon ; Rest in the eventide, These are thy boon ; Sleep, with the darkness, thou Sendest, and soon ! Full well thou teachest us Where'er we turn, All that is meet for us Earthborn to learn, — From what is evil here Good to discern. This, too, we learn of thee, This to be true, — All things about us, both Old things and new. Pass, and the power of them Fades as it grew. While in the manifold Births that unroll, 26 ON THE HEIGHTS. Shaping the universe, Breathes but one soul,- One long existence, — one Infinite whole. SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. TO TRUTH, THE SAVIOUR. ot irpStTa fitv pXsnovreg E/3Xe7rov iidriiv, kKvovtcq ovk ijKovov • dXV ovapaTinv dXiy/cioi fiopipalai, rhv iiaxpov ypovov eipvpov tiK^ TtavTO. Aesch. Above the primrose paths of Peace upborne Now would thy servant mount and dwell with Thee, O holiest and most pure ! 'Twere good to be With Pyrrho watching by the gates of Morn ; — Or with brave Bruno sound the bugle-horn, Summoning the warriors of the host to free The souls of men from that dread tyranny Whose baneful bondage wastes the lives forlorn. 'Twere good to see forth issuing from thy throne Thy shafts of Light come hurthng thro' the air. Slaying the darkness, piercing to the core The creeds of falsehood. This, and this alone. Can save mankind. This only can repair The ancient wrong, and our lost faith restore. 30 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. TO A SISTER OF MERCY. Thine innocence shall be thy sanctuary, And thy chaste heart thine own most holy ground : No vain delusive hopes shall there abound, Nor pride to its own image bend the knee. Thine honour shall be thy humility ; Yet to thy glory shall this praise redound, Thy welfare in well-doing thou hast found, And in life's crown of thorns a wreath for thee. Thy shrine shall be thy tenderest sympathy, Whereby God's mercy shall make manifest Great miracles of healing all may see ; And oh, as heaven shall be thy perfect rest, For, blessing others, thou too shalt be blest. And 'neath Love's sheltering roof thy home shall be. SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 3 1 ST. FRANCIS, OF ASSISI. Ox earth he walked, yet did in heaven dwell ; With upturned gaze the upland paths he trod ; He worshipped Nature, but he knelt to God, Nor to the Angelic hosts bade long farewell : His life was blameless as the lily's bell ; The wrongful deed he smote with chastening rod ; Around his feet, with mystic splendour shod. The glory .brightened ere the darkness fell. Beloved of mortals ! thine immortal soul Hearkened and heard above life's thunder-roll The Spirit's quickening voice, ' Be good, be kind ! ' Oh, blessed ye that hear, and ye that hearken, Oh, blessed ye, if when death-shadows darken. These words graved on your hearts we yet shall find. 32 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. REFUGIUM PECCATORUM. Lo, wounded of the world and stricken of sin, Before the gate she comes at night's dread noon ; There on the path, with fallen flowers bestrewn, She kneels in sorrow ere she enters in. Lone and forlorn, with features wan and thin, A shadow crouching 'neath the shadowy moon. One gift she craves, one hopeless, hapless boon, — ' Thy pity, Lord, a breaking heart would win ! ' Religion was the Refuge ! — In distress There might the sinner flee, the weary press ; Haven where Sorrow 'mid the world's mad din Might kneel in silence, and sweet solace find ! Refugium peccatorum — shall mankind Lay waste the sinner's home, yet keep the sin ? SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 33 WJIAT GOSPEU What gospel, still, what gospel ? Christ, yea, Christ ! Back to the shores of Galilee once more, To the old lesson of love, the simple lore Of peace and wisdom that the world sufficed. Christ ! — for He spake with pity, nor enticed The broken-hearted to an empty store. Christ ! — for His words true balm and healing pour In the world's wounds — the holy words of Christ ! What gospel, still, what gospel ? Love, yea, lovg ! There is no heaven, and no hope but this ; No heritage of joy, no hallowed bliss To wing the spirit to the realm above ; Oh, vain glad-tidings, and oh, little worth, Unless our charity make glad the earth. 34 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. SELF-SACRIFICE. What though thine arm hath conquered in the fight,- What though the vanquished yield unto thy sway, Or riches garnered pave thy golden way, — Not therefore hast thou gained the sovran height Of man's nobility ! no halo's light From these shall round thee shed its sacred ray ; If these be all thy joy, — then, dark thy day, And darker still thy swift, approaching night ! But if in thee more truly than in others Hath dwelt love's charity ; — if by thine aid Others have passed above thee, and if thou. Though victor, yieldedst victory to thy brothers, Though conquering conquered, and a vassal made,- Then take thy crown, well mayst thou wear it now. SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 35 'THEY WILL NOT PART OR PASS.' They will not part or pass ! These clouds that sweep Around the sacred mount still hide from view The Ever-Lasting and the Ever-True ! From earth they rose, to earth again they creep ; — Owning their human birth the vapours weep ; While Moses from the Mount descends anew, Bids or forbids, — thou shalt or shalt not 'do, — Seer, priest, or prophet, — ^great shepherd of the sheep ! And what, O Man, wouldst thou ? The cloud- wrapt peak Is hid, forsooth, from thee, — but on the plain Light gleams around thy dwelling. Wouldst thou seek Lost in mid-air the phantoms of thy brain ? Thy home is here, and here eternal reign Forces unhidden, and powers that plainly speak. 36 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. FAITH AND LOVE. Beyond the clouds, beyond the encirding night, Faith wanders fearless : Though the skies be dim. She sees, far-oflf, the white-winged seraphim ; With us she will not stay. ' To worlds more bright,' She cries, ' I fain would pass ! this piteous sight Of earth I love not ; — nay, with joyous hymn, Through the void air I would ascend to Him, Who reigns unseen, Supreme and Infinite.' ' Farewell, then, Sister ! yes,' Love sighs, ' farewell ! On earth, with these I love, will I abide : — With these I love ! My children, 'mid the flowers. And joys of life, contented will we dwell : Join hands, be kind, be just, fear not dark hours ; Though Faith be fled, yet Love shall be your guide.' SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 37 • CHRIST IS NOT DEAD: ' Christ is not dead,' — So spake, in accents low. He whom we loved, — the master, aged and sere : He spake not loud, yet firm his voice and clear, To speak whate'er he would that we should know. ' Christ is not dead,' — He spake, then paused as though His words were mightier than such words appear To him that hears them with a casual ear, Nor stays to heed, but hastes where he would go. ' Christ is not dead,' and yet he paused once more, While on his face a holy rapture shone. As shines the sunlight on the peaceful shore When all the storm of life is past and gone, — ' Christ is not dead, while in your hearts,' he cried, ' The lesson of his love doth still abide.' 38 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. THE BATTLE OF BELIEF. Blow, blow, ye trumpets, blow ! sound an alarm ! Behold, upon the mountains, o'er the plain, In serried troops they come, their squadrons swarm Around your buttressed walls in fierce disdain : O blow, ye trumpets, blow ! sound an alarm ! As surging waters from th' inrushing main, Each wave a warrior with uplifted arm, They sweep around your time-worn tottering fane : Then blow, ye trumpets, blow ! sound an alarm ! Behold, they come, these cohorts of the Lord, Armed with the spirit of Truthfulness more strong Than steel to pierce past error's baneful wrong ; Armed with the Truth more trenchant than a sword- O blow, ye trumpets, blow ! sound an alarm ! SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 39 II. O PRIESTS and prelates, teachers proudly wise, To you we turn, to you with trustful hearts For light and life we come, — for clear-wrought charts Of rock and shoal, and wreck-strown shore that lies Around our track. To you, 'mid darkening skies, We turn for guidance ere the black night parts Brother from brother, or class-interest thwarts Our peace and joy, our love that faints and dies. With hearts that hunger, and with souls' ill-fed, To you for food we come, for living bread ; No miracle we crave, we ask no sign ; We ask for food, pure bread and wholesome wine ; O give, we pray, O give us not instead Those stony marvels from an ancient shrine. 40 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. THE BEATEN TRACK. Nay, with no harshness name the simple soul That still would cling to creeds that pass away ; That from the beaten footpath fears to stray, And shrinks from those who wider views unroll : All see a part of Truth and none the whole ! If it sufficeth them, then, happy they. Who on that beaten footpath still can stay, And from all wandering their steps control. As he who lingers in low, sheltered spaces. Nor mounts to danger on the mountain-side. In safety dwells where the still waters glide j So they in peace shall haunt life's hallowed places, Whose steadfast hearts in one belief abide, — Whose primal faith no tide of doubt eifaces. SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 41 'GREAT IS THY GAIN.' Great is thy gain, dear friend, to hold thy creed Steadfast, unmoved, untroubled by the tide Of alien doctrine flooding, far and wide. The landmarks of the soul. Great gain, indeed, This rock to cling to in the hour of need ; This staff that in thine hand doth still abide ; This star that through the darkness still shall guide Thy steps that follow where its light doth lead. Great is thy gain, — but oh, greater thy loss. If to still higher truths it makes thee blind ; If hiding, as a curtain drawn across. Vast spaces infinite and undefined, It leaves thee but one nook of narrow ground. Where love Is not, and wisdom is not found. 42 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. THE QUEST. Truly, it yet might be, — in yonder dell, Or 'neath this granite cliff, so stern and grim ; Or 'mid the meadows by some rillet's brim, Haply we yet may find Him — who can tell ! Nay, though we find Him not by any spell, Nor in the open, nor where woods are dim. Surely, my friend, we shall be found of Him, The One Omnipotent, — and all be well. Behold, behold, — lift up thine eyes, and see, — What is, and was, and hath for ever been. Immutable through all Infinity ; — Eternal Law supreme around is seen ! Is this the God of Science ? 'Tis thine own ! Nature his kingdom is, and Truth his throne. SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. 43 THE NEW LIGHT. What is the New Light, tell me, what is it — This light that doth the orbs of night eclipse, And while the old faith 'neath the horizon dips, Brings back the Eternal and the Infinite ? What is the New Light, tell me, what is it — That honoureth Duty, nor disdaineth Love, And while its searching gaze all things would prove Doth still the gladness of good deeds permit ? What is the New Light, tell me, what is it — This kindly light that shows what is most fit For each to do, what best for every man, — To cherish honour, and our hearts to scan ! The light that leads us on these things to do, That is the New Light, surely, and the True ! 44 SONNETS OF THE SANCTUARY. THE PENITENT. Forgive, O Truth, thy servant's sin this day : Thy pardon, O our Master, we entreat : It was so easy, and so passing sweet. Within the kirk's old ivied porch to stray. Forgive us though we sat with them that pray ; Thou knowest how our heart indignant beat 'Gainst those prone on the knee, no posture m^t, — Than, sheep more piteous, more unreasoning they ! Pull tranquil seemed the place — a Paradise Where those who taste not knowledge dwell secure ; Brave hearts, whom their own dreams of heaven sufiSce ! O Truth, from Paradise with thee we passed. But, Master, wilt thou bring us home at last Unto a place as peaceful and as pure ? MORS ET VITA, 47 MORS ET VITA. We know not yet what life shall be, What shore beyond earth's shore be set ; What grief awaits us, or what glee. We know not yet. Still, somewhere in sweet converse met. Old friends, we say, beyond death's sea Shall meet and greet us, nor forget Those days of yore, those years when we Were loved and true, — but will death let Our eyes the longed-for vision see ? We know not yet. 48 MAN. Child of the Infinite, Born of Eternity, — Man, the last neophyte. Robed in modernity ! What is his history, — What can we show of it ? Little we know of it. Hid in much mystery : — Child of the Infinite, Born of Eternity t Varenna, 1896. 49 SISTER URSULA. A Silhouette. ' Thou that dwellest in the gardens.' Canticles, viii. 13. This is her garden, this the place, Secluded and serene. Where phlox and pansy love to grace The dreamland of their queen ; A sunny solitude makes fair The precincts of this trim parterre. Like mystic scroll illumed and wrought With leaf and flowered device, With loving care it breathes the thought Of holiest sacrifice : — And still above from mom till night Here Heaven always is in sight. E 50 SISTER URSULA. This pathway as some minster aisle, From noxious weeds set free, Seems holy ground, and here awhile Ofttimes, methinks, I see A figure past the privet glide When comes the dusk at eventide. No Pascal, no Spinoza treads' This walk, or stands to view The many-coloured tulip-beds, — The blooms of varied hue ; No Plato rapt as in a dream Strays hither from the Academe : Yet haply somewhat of all three. Some kinship of the mind. Inspires the spirit that we see ; And, dimly here divined. The higher, the ideal hfe Is fenced from sin, is freed from strife. The stars gleam softly overhead, The sky is bright and clear, — SISTER URSULA. 5 1 Infinity around is spread, Eternity is here ; And by this leaf-encircled seat Each morn the Past and Future meet. The Past that from far distance brings The Present as his gift, — The Future that full swiftly flings It down the stream adrift ; While loud upon yon elder-tree The blackbird chants his minstrelsy. But when the Sun scales heaven's height, With noontide fancies fraught. Here rests within the spirit's sight Life budding into Thought, — The wondrous mystery of Mind, Unsolved, unfathomed, undefined ! These jonquils shed a perfume rare, — Whence comes it, — who can tell ? And Thought, the blossom that we bear, Life's fairest asphodel, SISTER URSULA. Breathes it the incense of the heart That still shall live tho' Life depart ? ^ ^ TP * But stay, our purpose we forget, — The portrait that we planned, — 'Tis but an old-world silhouette, And few may understand How in these verses they may trace The profile of the pictured face. So be it, — yet the gardener knows Each symbol passing well. The musk, the lily, and the rose. And ever loves to dwell Where ' bleeding-heart ' and ' London-pride ' Here bloom together side by side. 53 IN MEMORIAM. J. A. N. O WINDS that wail around death's barren shore, Be hushed no more : O weep, ye clouds, and let your tears be shed, For he lies dead ; The truest, noblest, and the best, Life's fairest guest. Now grows the upward path more lone and dim, Bereft of him ; While still we linger with our grief opprest, Where he finds rest, — Here where the wind-blown grasses wave, Here by his grave. 54 NORTH WALES. Not Vallombrosa's famed retreat, Not Camaldoni's rugged glen, Shall lure us hence — we'fl climb again Steep Cynicht and the Giant's Seat ; Once more we'll turn with willing feet To Nannau, Nantglyn, or Penmaen ; What though we wooed the wild Ardennes, For Cambria still our heart doth beat. Where shell-strewn Mochras greets the sea The long dunes shimmer far away ; The Eternal broods o'er Dinlleyn Bay, And there awhile we'll list to thee, O Spirit whispering on the shore For ever and for evermore. 55 REST. Rest — for the weary — rest ! Rest for the limbs outworn ; For tired hearts and torn ; Rest for the souls unblest. Rest from the guilt confest, — From grief, and sorrow, and scorn ; Rest for the lives forlorn, And for the loved-ones rest. Bring wreaths and flowers, adorn The grave with thy love's bequest ; Bring flowers that each loved best ; Bring smiles of joy, nor mourn, — Lo, past life's furthest bourn Still gleams the land of rest. S6 'AND WOULDST THOU STILL MORE BEAUTEOUS BE: And wouldst thou still more beauteous be, maiden, steeped in lethargy ? Throw wide the windows of thy soul ; Life and the light shall make thee whole. And wouldst thou still more joyous be, O maiden, 'mid thy reverie ? Let not the gay world thee cajole ; Let Nature now thy heart control. Yet if more honoured thou wouldst be, O maiden, in thy modesty. Recall the outcast to thy side ; And to the dark depths sink thy pride. 57 MORNING. ' And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire.' Gray. Now o'er the topmost pine, The distant pine-clad peak, There dawns a golden streak Of light, an orient line : — Phoebus, the light is thine. Thine is the glory, — seek Each dale and dewy creek. And in full splendour shine ! Thy steeds now chafe and fret To scour the dusky plain : Speed forth with flashing rein. Speed o'er the land, — and yet, Pray, linger in this lane. Kissing each violet. 58 THE INN OF CARE. At Nebra, by the Unstrut, — So travellers declare, — There stands an ancient tavern, It is the ' Inn of Care ' :— To all the world 'tis open ; It sets a goodly fare ; And every soul is welcome That deigns to sojourn there. The landlord with his helpers, (He is a stalwart host,) To please his guest still labours With ' bouilli ' and with ' roast ' ;- And ho ! he laughs so roundly, He laughs, and loves to boalst That he who bears the beaker May live to share the ' toast.' THE INN OF CARE. 59 Lucus a non lucendo — Thus named might seem the inn, So careless is its laughter, So loud its merry din ; Yet ere to doubt its title You do, in sooth, begin. Go, watch the eager faces Approach and pass within. To Nebra, by the Unstrut, May all the world repair. And meet a hearty welcome. And share a goodly fare ; The world ! 'tis worn and weary — 'Tis tired of gilt and glare ! The inn ! 'tis named full wisely, It is the ' Inn of Care ! ' 6o A HOMILY. Be to every man just, — and to Woman Be gentle, and tender, and true ; For thine own do thy best, but for no man Do less than a brother should do : So hving thy days to full number, In peace shalt thou pass to thy grave ; Thou shalt lie down, and rest thee, and slumber, With the good and the wise and the brave. 6i THE CATACOMB OF ST. CALLIXTUS. By the Via Appia. Beside the Dead we discourse held, And laughed nor deemed it wrong ; He was a Monk, a godly man, — And I a Child of Song. Before that morn we had not met, Yet straightway be it told, There 'mid the Tombs it seemed to me We had been friends of old. For spirit unto spirit leapt. And heart went forth to heart ; With many a sad ' farewell ' at last We parted loth to part. 62 THE CATACOMB OF ST. CALLIXTUS. O wondrous brotherhood of Man ! Our sires — 'tis surely so — Were members of one family A myriad years ago. Rome, 1892. 63 THE BAT. Vespertilio Murinus. I. Sleek, faery creature, Strange freak of Nature That through the Twilight comes and goes, Could we the mystery Of thy life's history Resolve, and learn what no man knows, From what weird forces. What hidden sources. Thy winged soul sprang into being. Then might we clearly Divine more nearly The World that lies beyond our seeing. 64 THE BAT. II. Quaint, mimic angel ! Thy new evangel Disclose, and share it now with me, While through the gloaming Thus lightly roaming, Thou flittest round this old oak tree ; Tell me what Ages, ' What Cosmic stages. Evolved thy Spirit in the Past ; The far stars glisten, — Speak, for I listen ; Teach me the Wisdom that thou hast. III. Nay, spectral flitter, Where glowworms glitter. Thou art more silent than the Sphinx ; Thro' eras ended Thou hast descended Down from the sphere of ' missing links, '- Like pterodactyl Thy race runs back till THE BAT. 65 The distance foils our dazed sight, To prehistoric, Rude, allegoric, Brute ofiFspring of the Infinite. IV. The Past hath vanished. From memory banished. What of the Future canst thou tell ? In words aesthetic, Sage and prophetic, Our doubting and our fears dispel ; When Ufe is over Shall Darkness cover Thy twilight wanderings with the Night, — Or from Death's portal Wilt thou immortal Speed forth into the realm of light ? V. Mute, mystic rover ! Could we discover F 66 THE BAT. Thy wisdom though thou answer'st not, There is no human, Or man or woman. But hath the knowledge thou hast got ; We know we know not ! The gods bestow not On thee a wider, clearer view ; — Thou art surrounded, On all sides bounded. By thine own ignorance, — adieu ! t7 THE ALDEBARAN SPIRIT. To Prof. MincMn (after reading his ' Naturae Veritas.') All ye who seek the golden clime, Go, mount with Death his caravan ! So sang of old the rhythmic clan, The bards whose numbers rang sublime : Ah, now, methinks, some truer chime Must charm us through life's little span ; Once more we'll read thy lofty rhyme, O wise, O true Aldebaran ! Full well we learn'd, and long ago. Thy truth that from eternity What hath endured that still shall be And that alone — 'tis even so ! Eternal forces deathless reign ; We work with them, or work" in vain. 68 PRINCE LUCIFER. An Epitaph. In caelo quies — he is gone, Who on the gods warr'd long ago : O requiescati — Fairies strow Poor Goblin's grave, nor leap thereon ! Great Lucifer, the Wily-One, Who lied on earth now lies below : Nay, saint or sinner, sigh not so, Death is the true eirenicon. Mephisto — thus the moderns dub Him who was once Beelzebub — Here lies who was himself a lie ! For he by Terror was begot, Yet never was and now is not. Grim shadow of a shade gone by. 69 THE EEDLARS 'APOLOGIA PRO VITA SUA: A coder v& chi iroppo alto sale. It. Prov. Men travel-worn tread night and morn One highway to one goal ; They toil to earn, nor wisdom learn, While on the ages roll. In years of yore ere Youth passed o'er I wearied of dull life, I bade farewell to ' Faery-Dell,' And took the World to wife. Now up and down, thro' thorp and town, From door to door I roam, — A pedlar sage that loves the page Of Nature's wondrous tome ! 70 THE pedlar's 'APOLOGIA He grasps too much who all would clutch ! But I have been content To cull, each day, in my own way The bloom of each event. And when the shy folk come and buy What most they need or prize, To each I fling — no worthless thing — Apt word or adage wise. I bend not low to ' empty show,' Like those of high estate ; No rule I own, I reign alone. Sole sovran of my fate ! Who fain Content would circumvent With glory or with gold, Should watch awhile where wild-flowers smile, And woods their wealth unfold. The daffodils by laughing rills Dance as the breeze goes by ; And Song and Glee meet on the lea ; The lark trills in the sky. PRO VITA- SUA.' 71 Peace dwelleth there ; and on the air The joys of Life come borne ; While Nature's calm and Nature's balm Can soothe the heart forlorn. Now with my pack I'm travelling back Unto the ' Great Unknown ; ' Yet on the road light seems my load, And all the world my own. And when no more from shore to shore I wander down life's way, Grave on my tomb — no word of gloom — ' This dog has had his day ! ' 72 MOIRA. Who most is Fortune's fool ? The man That eager strives yet never can Increase his stature half a span ? Or he, the Mussulman, that sleeps, — Saith, ' God in heaven this watch keeps ; Our pilot, Allah, Lord and King, Safe to the port our bark shall bring ; 'Tis Providence that shapes our ends, And who shall slay while Fate befriends ! ' Behold, each man before his birth. Of great or, haply, little worth. Hath all his gifts, — a giant he, Or doomed a mere dwarf-soul to be ! Nay, be he great or good or bad. He shall not to his talents add. Or mould a brain replete with wit If Nature hath not furnished it. MOIRA, 73 See yonder babe, 'tis but the last Fresh output of the Ages past ; And 'tis no fable that each man Existed ere Man's race began. 'Tis writ on Moira's oriflamme, ' Before Jehovah was I am ! ' 'Tis writ on Nature's banner too, ' Eternity hath fashioned you ! ' And Moira, Moira, what is she But Nature and the laws that be, Immutable Necessity ! Go, travel thou thro' space afar To Sirius, or that furthest star Thy Fancy, not thy feet, may reach ; There from its ancient, time-worn beach Look back, behold, if Mortal can, This earth, this planet-home of Man : Thou seest, — no, thou canst not see So small a speck there lost to thee 'Mid space that mocks Infinity. This mighty world, it is so small Thou canst not see this earth at all 74 MOIRA. From Sirius, or that distant star Where splendid rolls Orion's car. And yet these orbs that nightly shine, These myriad worlds that gleam afar, Have helped to shape this Will of thine, This automatic toy that plays Weird music for ten-thousand days ; Thou canst not wish, or will, or act, Or lift thy finger, or contract A limb or muscle, but in thee, Part of the cosmic unity, The link'd cogwheels at work we see Of all that is, or e'er hath been. Of all the worlds seen or unseen, The forces of the Universe. But 'mid the waves of Time immerse Thy thoughts awhile. Thro' days remote From age to age let Fancy float. Wayfaring in a faery boat Down forest rivers to that sea That hath no shore. Eternity. — Ten million years ago to-day. MOIRA. _ 75 Awhile we'll anchor in this bay ; Beneath these trees whose branches meet And yield us shelter from the heat. - The world by some divine decree Remains unaltered, — as you see, These trees ate green as those we knew, And as of yore the skies are blue ! Beneath the sun is nothing new In substance, tho' in shape, perchance, Some change accrues from circumstance, — Some lapse of form, some permutation. Or new life from fresh combination. Yet long ere round its parent sun This earth, our planet, had begun As foal around its dam to run, — Long ere this orb began to be. Vast aeons of Eternity A myriad earths and orbs had seen, A myriad worlds that once had been The homes of mortals, beasts, and birds ; Of shepherds with their flocks and herds ; Of priests and pedlars — haply, too, Trim statesmen, men of many words 76 MOIRA. To hide their meaning from our view. Immortal souls these mortals had, And creeds, perchance, almost as mad As those men cherish to this hour To feed their pride, and give them power On outstretched wing to upward fly And reach their castles in the sky. 'Mid tropic forests vast and dim Thou shalt not find the Seraphim, But mailed serpents mayst thou see Coiled near the shady mango-tree : — There by the marge of some lone swamp Where orchids bloom and all the pomp Of painted plumage gleams around. The Cherubim are never found ; But born of Nature's changeless laws, With hungry, ravenous, cruel jaws. The alligator waits his prey, — And while the merry children play A budding life is snatched away. Do Gods then give the crocodile MOIRA. 77 Angelic food ? Nay, list awhile ; All mortals Nature doth impel, But Moira rules the Gods as well ! The Gods are Justice, Power, and Love, Yet over these, see, throned above, Reigns Moira, stern Necessity Abiding in all things that be, Eternal and immutable ! Man strives to guide, and doeth well, His bark upon the stream of life, But, ah ! the floods despite his strife Bear him he knows not whence or whither ; Where the dim Future leads him, thither He goes, and Moira points the way ; To what, who knoweth, or can say ! All things for ever onward wend, From no Beginning to no End. GIUSEPPINA. Her spirit breathes love's affluence, — Her eyes, no heart may doubt, Are windows in God's heaven whence An angel looketh out. NoBiALLo, 1896. 79 BE ATA BEATRIX. ' Ella ha perduta la sua Beatrice : E le parole ch'uom di lei pu6 dire Hanno virtii di far piangere altrui.' Vita Nuova. And was it thine, the light whose radiance shed Love's halo round the gloom of Dante's brow ? Was thine the hand that touched his hand, and thou The spirit to his inmost spirit wed ? O gentle, O most pure, what shall be said In praise of thee to whom Love's minstrels bow ? O heart that held his heart, for ever now Thou with his glory shalt be garlanded. Lo, 'mid the twilight of the waning years, Firenze' claims once more our love, our tears : But thou, triumphant on the throne of song, — By Mary seated in the realm above, — O give us of that gift than death more strong. The loving spirit that won Dante's love. 8o BADEN-BADEN. ' , , . fiso, ii si mostri, attend!, L'erba piu verde, e I'aria piii serena.' Petrarca. Syringa and wild-roses, Beneath a sapphire sky ! Here, dearest, Life reposes. We'll let the Hours slip by ; What tho' the light discloses Grey threads amid our hair, Syringa and wild-roses, And Thou, my Love, art fair. As in the woods of Arden Once dwelt the balm of peace. And they who sought for pardon There found their sorrows cease ; BADEN-BADEN. So in this forest-garden, Here with the pines alone, Now Peace shall be our warden, And Strife a world unknown. Here breathes the holy Spirit Of Love in bud and flower, And they who wander near it. Shall they not share its dower ? Here we too may inherit Of life the holier part — Love, thine be all the merit. And thine the Sacred Heart. Baden-Baden, 1895. 82 CALABRIA. I. A SYLVAN bower for love's embrace, Where wild-flower blossoms grew unbidden, It was our secret try sting-place Behind the elms and orchard hidden : There meadow-saffron bloomed as fair As e'er Cosenza knew of yore ; Strayed mignonette made sweet the air As myrtle the Calabrian shore ; And still the name we gave it bore Far glimpses of that southern clime Whence Maro fled to come no more, I Where Ennius built his rugged rhyme : — Yet fare thee well, O leafy dell ; Farewell, our loved Calabria ! CALABRIA. 83 II. O that mine eyes might view again That vanished bower, and haply so Might see thee as I saw thee then, My own sweet love of long ago, When still the stars shone bright above, And Life, our faery-land of bliss, Seemed made for us, and us for Love, And Love for one eternal kiss ; But now our lives have grown amiss, And thou art far beyond the sea, I know not where, I know but this. How dear thy memory is to me : — Then fare thee -well, O leafy dell ! O fare thee well, Calabria ! 84 THE SONG OF THE SIRENS. To One Departing. Whither, O whither, ere yet the stars wane, Love, art thou going ? Nay, with us remain : — Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! See, unto thee we stretch hands ever fain ; List, for to thee we sing chanting one strain, — Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! Fondly we plead to thee, pleading in vain, Lord of our limbs and lips, pleasure and pain, Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! Where on this sandy beach long we have lain, Ere the night hideth us, hiding disdain. Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 87 THE NEW DAWN. Too long unblest, too long unloved, we waited Watching the sun-kiss'd flowers bloom and die \ Sad days were ours, for sad the hours went by ; Lone were the hearts for love by love created : As some poor bird by cruel chance unmated, Flits through the forest with a piteous cry, So for some dear, loved soul, 'twas ours to sigh,-"- Some kindred spirit to our own related. You came at last ! you came,^ — glad voices singing Chanted blithe welcome to a dawn so fair ! The night was past ; and in the morning there — Lo, love new-born, and life from death upspringing ! Who should have thought those barren hours were bringing So blest an union to so fond a pair. 88 SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. SWEET-HEART. No tinsel trickery hast thou, Sweet-heart ! No new devices of the old deceit To bring each foolish flatterer to thy feet,- — In such unwisdom thou canst have no part ! But thou art nobler far, and as thou art So are thy deeds,— not proffering as fine wheat The worthless chaff of some Circean cheat. But heart for true heart offering at love's mart. For amulet thou hast thy truthfulness, And for thy charm thine own simplicity ; Thy gracious eyes make captive but to bless. For lo, while robed in thy love's livery, Our willing hearts this ancient truth confess To serve the noblest is true liberty ! SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 89 BEAUTY AND DUTY. (From Dante. ) Lo, throned upon my spirit's loftiest height, Here of true love discourse fair ladies twain ; And one, with honoured prudence in her train. In valorous courtesy is richly dight : — The other glistens with the golden light Of smiles and winning grace, where beauties reign ; And I, of each enamoured, still remain The slave of each, as Love asserts his might. Beauty and Duty, these my spirit woo, And urge their suit, doubting if loyal kiss To both can e'er be given, and faithful prove : Yet saith the fount of gentle speech and true, — ' Both may be thine ! — Beauty, for dearest bliss ; But Duty, for good deeds, shall win thy love.' 90 SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. THE AFTERMATH. It was late summer, and the grass again Had grown knee-deep, — we stood, my love and I, Awhile in silence where the stream runs by ; Idly we listened to a plaintive strain, — A young maid singing to her youthful swain, — Ah me, dead days remembered make us sigh, And tears will sometimes flow we know not why ; ' If spring be past,' I said, ' shall love remain ? ' She moved aside, yet soon she answered me. Turning her gaze responsive to mine own, — ' Spring days are gone, and yet the grass, we see. Unto a goodly height again hath grown ; Dear love, just so love's aftermath may be A richer growth than e'er spring-days have known.' SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 9 1 AFTER LONG YEARS. Have I not loved you, and shall love not bind Our hearts and lives now parting days are past ? The ivy tendrils cleave where once entwined And will not part unbroken ; boughs long clasp'd And in those sheltering arms by love confined, Would droop, if bared, beneath the stormy blast, Cold, beating hail, and harsh Ufe-withering wind, — Would droop awhile, and fade, and fall at last ! Have I not loved you, and shall Love be cast From out the home where once, a winsome child. Of old you welcomed him, and gayly smiled. And with your long brown tresses bound him fast ? Nay, now a man, his conquering might you know, He holds you, sweet, — he will not let you go. 92 SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 'THROUGH THE NIGHT WATCHES: Through the night-watches, Sleep, we picture thee, Now as a bridge that links two neighbouring lands. One worn and barren as the sea's bare sands, One sown and fruitful with all things to be : — Now as a mist that spreadeth silently, We see thee hiding with thy vaporous hands The good that gladdens, and the guilt that brands. The griefs that follow, and the joys that flee. And now a seraph, an angelic guide. Thy white wings reaching to thy noiseless feet. We see thee leading to each loved-one's side The longed-for figure that each loves to greet : Oh, while the darkness and the night abide. Be thou love's-guide, and guide me to my Sweet. SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 93 LO VE-MEMORIES. Fair, languid flower, that leanest on thy stem As though thy heart were heavy, and full sad For all its sweetness, — thou with fragrance clad Seem'st as a queen tired of her diadem, Whose eyes grow weary of each lustrous gem That may not heal, and never maketh glad. Her love-lorn heart ; — thy sweetness cannot add Strength to thy soul to chant love's requiem. And yet, and yet, another flower we know, Whose form may haply droop, or languid lean. If thoughts of other days their shadows throw, Or memory point to some forgotten scene ; Nay, dost thou droop, sweet flower, nay, say not so,- Forget, regret not, that it might have been. 94 SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. LATE FRUIT. Ten years, ten years, — it seems but yesterday ! Ten years ago we loved not, though above The neighbouring elms, as on the grass we lay, Long time we watched one silver, circling dove That came full close, yet with us would not stay ;— And so you rose, and went, nor vainly strove Against the gods and fate ; — you went, and love, Lo, love, our silver dove, flew far away. Ten years ago ! Again, again to-day In other wise, 'mid other scenes, we meet ; Nay, fear not love, my own, — but own how sweet This glad fruition of our long delay ! See, round our hearts and limbs, we know but this, Love spreads his sheltering wings to hide our kiss. SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. 95 A HOME IN HAMPSHIRE. This is the bosky citadel of love, — Here mimic forests stud the fair champaign, And here by night the nightingales complain To her whom lovers' vows in vain would move ! This is the peaceful shrine that gleams above The highways of the world, — the wise disdain Refusing still 'mid gayer realms to reign, Or for town-revelry quit this calm alcove. Here is the little lake, hid in the wood. Upon whose loving breast the lilies float In blissful quietude, and only note The' bee that sips their lips, his honeyed food, — And here the hfiven where his soul should flee Who in Love's service still would faithful be. 96 SONNETS OF LOVE'S-BOWER. THE NEOPHYTE. His spirit is in apogee ! To-night Far from our earth he speeds ; — he heeds no more The long waves breaking on life's echoing shore : Lo, Truth, his aureole, as heaven grows bright; And Faith, his carcanet, as chrysolite 'Mid soul-wrought gems gleams thro' the opening door Of purest Innocence ; — on wings that soar Through cloud-girt vistas to the Infinite, Upward he journeys, and what limitless scope, What boundless prospects to his vision rise — What thrones, how fair ! and oh, how full of hope The heavenly mansions and the star-built skies ! — Yet love, dear love ! behold, the day shall be, Earthward he will return, and kneel to thee. 'IF THOU WERT TRUE AS THOU ART FAIR.' H 99 'IF THOU WERT TRUE AS THOU ART fair: If thou wert true as thou art fair, Love should for thee thy burden bear ; No service would his heart disdain, Or deem it idle, or in vain : But fare thee well ! Too fair art thou ; So fare thee well for ever now. If thou wert. mine, and mine alone. Then shouldst thou reign upon love's throne ; But other hands may thine caress. And other lips those lips may press, So fare thee well ! Unfair art thou, — Go, fare thee well for ever now. If thou, a goddess, wert divine. Should all men worship at thy shrine ? lOO ' IF THOU WERT TRUE.' Nay, prithee, think ! — is there not one Who from thine altar would pass on, With, ' Fare thee well ! Mere fairy thou,- Nay, fare thee well for ever now ' ? Yet tell me, thou, my own, my queen, Art true as thou hast ever been, — And I thy servant still shall be ; Nor, doubting, sing this song to thee Of ' Fare thee well,'— but ' Fair art theu,' And ' With me fare for ever now.' lOI THE COQUETTE. This pirate bold upon Love's sea Will let no passing heart go free ; No barque, by those bright eyes espied, May sail away o'er life's blue tide Till all its treasure yielded be. Her craft, the Conquest, waits for thee Where her swift rapine none may see ; — From shadowing coves on thee will glide This pirate bold. Yet thou, if thou her power wouldst flee, Go, feign thyself love's refugee, And crave sweet shelter ; — she'll deride Thy piteous suit with scornful pride ; And thou, thou shalt escape in glee This pirate bold ! I02 MADRIGAL. ' Le citia son nemiche, amici i boschi A' miei pensier.' Petrarca. I. Come, to the woods, love, let us go. And roam the forest wide ; There brackens grow and wild-flowers blow, And singing birds abide : There happy are the hearts that love ; And happy, love, are we. While there we sing our songs in spring Beneath the greenwood tree. With hey, my love ! and ho, my Jove ! My love she is so bonnie. n. There is a nook by Beaulieu brook, An ivy-cinctured bower, Where we can dwell in forest dell, And pluck the budding flower ; MADRIGAL. 1 03 For happy are the hearts that love, And happy, love, are we, While still we sing our songs in spring Beneath the greenwood tree. With hey, my love ! and ho, my love ! My love she is so bonnie. 104 AMORIS INTEGRATIO. CypRis, 'mid sad tears uprising, Fairer from the flood emerges ; Love, all sorrow exorcising, From the stormy crested surges Starts refulgent, and chastising Grief with kisses, love's own scourges, Fleetly doffs all thin disguising ; Crying, ' Maiden, cease your dirges, Cease your wailing, — Cupid dallies. By the threshold shyly hiding ! See, the storm is past and over ; See, the sun shines down the valleys ; See, he enters, kind nor chiding, — Cupid ? 'Tis your own fond lover ? ' los STANZAS COMPOSED AT VOIRON. From far Saint Laurent, from the heights That cluster round the Grande Chartreuse, Here back returned once more we sit 'Neath Voiron's moonlit avenues. How calm the night, how still the trees, — These linden-trees that scent the air. And with their verdure love to grace The fairest town of all Isere. 'Mid such a scene, on such an eve, How should man's spirit fail to win Some impulse from the world without. Some utterance from the voice within ! No passing sound the stillness breaks ; There comes no murmur on the breeze ; No thunder that the mariner hears When dreaming of the storm-lashed seas ; I06 STANZAS COMPOSED AT VOIRON. No vesper song of bird or maid, No lay of minstrel chanted near, Makes glad the night with carol gay Or jubilant strain we love to hear. Yet list, a whisper from afar. Faint echo from life's voiceful sea, — A message from the Spirit-land On angel's wings floats down to me. And still in crystals of clear rhyme. Like snow-flakes moulded into song, It builds itself a lyric dome Of melody the Muses throng : — I. O sunny lands, O golden sands. When Youth its halo round us spread ! We will not weep. Nor sad watch keep, Tho' dark the Night hangs overhead. STANZAS COMPOSED AT VOIRON. 107 II. 'Mid sea-washed shells, And flower-sweet bells, We played thro' merry childhood's hour ; Then Dryad fair With golden hair Enticed us to Love's leafy bower. III. Ah me, those years Of smiles and tears ! We would not bid them yet adieu ; Love is the best ! Death take the rest, So it but leave me, love, with you. io8 'FAIRER THAN THE FIELDS OF ENNA: To H. C. Heron Maxwell. Fairer than the fields of Enna Sung by many a bard of yore, Is this village of Varenna Cypress-crowned on Como's shore. Not Lucerne, and not Lugano, Tho' they both be passing fair, Nor, believe me, Desenzano With Varenna can compare. Beauty on the wings of rapture Wafts us to the realm above, While Varenna with sweet capture Wins and keeps our heart and love. Lago i>' Como, 1896. I09 'o blithe the day, o blithe the night: O BLITHE the day, O blithe the night, And down the dale the fairies flit. For earth is young, and skies are bright, * And life is full of fair delight While Love is still the lord of it ! O hail the dawn, the happy morn, And happy hours the fates permit. Now every home spring-flowers adorn. And never a heart is found forlorn While Love is still the lord of it ! Then, shepherd, sing ! O shepherd, bring Thy pastoral pipe, as is most fit ; Fair maids, around your roses fling ; — For life is still a holy thing, And Love is still the lord of it. no ETERNITY. Of old spake the priest, spake the parson and preacher, - ' After death, O my Friends, after death is Eternity.' 'Not so,' cries my Spirit, 'not so, O wise teacher! It was, and it is, and it ever shall be, — Now, now is Eternity ! Is it for thee ? ' PoNTE Grande, 1894. Ill THE CHURCH AT FERNEY. 'Deo erexit Voltaire.' ' Deo Voltaire ! ' — Thus yesterday we read The bold inscription o'er the doorway writ ; No pert device of philosophic wit, It through the ages speaks from overhead, A messenger of love with wisdom wed, — Of grief for human grieving as is fit : Truly, methinks, no smile lurked under it ; Ah, now we smile no more, Voltaire is dead ! No cynic savant to the God Unknown Here reared this temple by his palace-gate ; No prelate, faithful to one faith alone. Built this, God's witness of his high estate ; But Love, Love whispered to his friends, the poor,- ' I too would honour Him whom ye adore.' Geneva, 1895. 112 NEMI. ' Nemi, imbedded in wood, Nemi, inurned in the hill.' Cloogh. I. From lone Castello's torrid shore, Here, Nemi, to thy shrine. Where Thyrsis wandering came of yore, I come to make thee mine : With myrtle sweet and eglantine, O Lake, beloved for evermore, Take thou my soul, and yield me thine. 11. Spirit of Beauty ! is it here. Secluded and alone, Thou dwellest by these waters clear, These Alban hills thy throne ? Here still, unwitnessed and unknown, To thee we kneel, and thee revere. And thine all-hallowing presence own. NEMI. 113 III. What tho' mute Silence brood around, Tho' every voice be still, Tho' Dian's horn and steeds resound No more along the hill. Yet harmonies unheard fulfil The hearts that muse on holy ground, And rhythmic tongues with rapture thrill. IV. Earth's flowery lap thy body is. And loveliness thy soul, O beauteous scene, whose tender kiss Can make the wounded whole ; Now closer to thy mystic goal ' We come, and coming, crave but this, ' Do thou the weary heart console ! ' V. Nay, closer now ! nay, closer yet ! Would my soul cleave to thine ; Here by thy manthng beauty met. Transfigured, made divine ; — Here as of old in Palestine I 114 NEMI. Love is the true heart's amulet, And joy of love the sacred sign. VI. But hark, O hark, the choirs unseen ! They rise on airy wing ; Nemi, round thy borders green Their joyous paeans ring ; ' Spirit of Beauty ! ' thus they sing, ' Thou art, and thou hast ever been. Of life and love the living spring.' VII. Back to Albano, back to Rome, We go, but still with thee, O lake, of love-lit dreams the home. Our thoughts, our heart shall be ; And still, far off, we yet shall see Beneath the Night's star-spangled dome Thy grove-encircled sanctuary. Rome, 1892. IIS USQUE AD FINEM. I. The Daisy to the Daflfodil Said, ' Every dell I know, I bloom upon the barren hill, And in the vale below ; — By castle-walls and moated halls. By road, and mere, and moor ; A home behind the Church I find, And by the Chapel-door.' n. The Daffodil gazed coldly round ; Quoth he, ' Ay, that is true ; — Go where we will the poor abound, The rich are very few ! When men no more shall strive and store. Nor want, nor wealth we see, You then shall sup from my gold cup, And we will equals be.' ii6 ■■ ONE WITH another: I. Friend ! let me speak to thee,- Wealthy art thou ! Men through their poverty, Through want and misery, Have sinned and sorrowed Often ere now. Friend ! let me speak to thee,- Poorer art thou ! From opportunity, From wealth and luxury. Men oft have borrowed Sorrow ere now. 'ONE WITH ANOTHER.' 117 III. Friends ! will ye tell to me, — This one, and thou ! — Despite your disparity, From each other's charity How oft have ye borrowed Comfort ere now ? ii8 MAN'S IMMORTALITY. Nay, tell me, which part shall endure, O Man, of all thy mystery ! Thy Pride, methinks, stands fixed and sure ; Thou shalt not wholly die. 119 A POEM FOR PENELOPE. Aetat, 9. (The Light from the Milky Way.) I. Twelve million miles in each minute of time Travels the Light from the Milky Way ! It travels by night, and it travels by day : It never grows weary, or halts on the way ; But straight to the Earth with an ardour sublime, Twelve million miles in each minute of time. Travels the Light from the Milky Way ! II. For a thousand years — that's a very long time — Travels the Light from the Milky Way ! But it reaches at length with a quivering ray The home where this Poet is writing his lay ; Yet ere it touches the hem of his rhyme, For a thousand years, 'tis a very long time. Travels the Light from the Milky Way ! I2C THE MAWDDACH. I. Sun-kissed sands, Where the sea-gull lands And alien birds from the Forest meet ; Where, as bright As the Rainbow's light, Kingfishers flash thro' the noontide heat, — Sylvan shore ! As in years of yore We seek the calm of thy still retreat. II. Where but here Should the Hours appear Thus blithely clad with the robe of Song ; Where more fair In the sunlit air. THE MAWDDACH. 121 And pure as winds that the pine-woods throng, Dawns the sight Of our love's delight, With all the joys that to Life belong ? III. Rich as gold That the mines unfold In those lone heights that around thee rise, Nature, true To the Hearts that woo, Here yields her bliss to enchanted eyes, — Whispering, 'Mine Is this land, and thine, And ne'er shalt thou its rare grace despise.' IV. Naiads sleep On thy glassy deep. And Night reveals what the Day hath hid — Circling arms. And a feast that charms 122 THE MAWDDACH. With dreams of Love thy green banks amid ; Yet, fair Scene, That our joy hast been, Farewell to thee, and thy woods we bid. DOLGELLY, 1893. 123 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. Val Anzasca. ' To matins come ! To matins come 1 ' ,Thus tolled the bell — but lo, on high Triumphant blazed the cloudless sky ; More ample than St. Peter's dome, It was our heaven, and God's home ; — And bound at last for Truth to search How should we linger in the Church ? Vogogna gave us on that day An omelet for our dtjeuner ; — On such ' viaticum ' well-fed The pilgrim, with hfe garlanded. Goes forth upon the upward way ; Nor shall he faint, nor rest, till he Hath reached the Kingdom that they see 124 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. Whose eyes are gifted to behold And gaze upon Infinity. Across the bridge where Tosa rolled His sunlit tide of burnished gold We passed, and soon had left behind ' Fi6 de Muldra, — to our mind A hot Gehenna of the plain, The torrid home of scorching pain. But now our hearts were lifted up ; Already from the golden cup Of Nature's sacramental wine Our souls had drunk. A light divine Gleamed bright above the horizon line ; And Love was with us, and Delight, When Monte Rosa came in sight. Lo, on its throne, aloft, on high. Encircled by the sapphire sky, A holy spirit seemed to sit ; — What was this Spirit, what was it ? THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. 125 And what the Voices in the air That sang their hymn of praise and prayer ? O Thou, our Master in the Past, What is the message that thou hast For us the pilgrims of To-day Bound for the heavenly, upward way ? O Spirit on thy stainless throne, What is thy teaching ? Shall we say Thou and the Universe are one. And we thy children, thine alone — We are a part. Thou art the whole ; The world thy body, Thou the soul ? Yea, shall our worship ever be The praise of the Infinity ? But here is Ponte Grande, — here The higher Vision draweth near. As earth's low levels disappear. 'Mid these fair heights long let us stay, And drink of Beauty while we may ; Here quench thy thirst with purest wine Here rest 'mid Nature's holiest shrine, 126 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. And thou at eventide shalt say, ' I too,' — and shall not this suffice ? — ' I too have been in Paradise.' Keep thou thy soul still and serene, As hid in some lone woodland scene A sheltered lake may long have been ; And, heaven reflected on thy breast, The stars shall on thy bosom rest ; Thou shalt find peace, and Beauty then Shall drift within thy spirit's ken. Alone upon the Pampas plain The Gaucho rides with loosened rein ; He hears afar the jaguar roar ; He sees the ' crested screamer ' soar High o'er his head till lost to view It enters heaven's empyreal blue, — An Angel singing on its way A sweet and paradisal lay Unlike the shrill discordant sound It uttered resting on the ground. Thus shall all spirits as they soar Sings hymns to Beauty evermore, THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. 127 Till they thro' heaven's gate at last Into the realm of Peace have passed ; And holy, holy shall they be Who reach that highest sanctuary. Yet while of Beauty, as we think, The soul of Man should ever drink, What is the Godhead, — can it be, Truth is the truest Deity? Then turn, O comrade, turn and pray Awhile to Truth for his bright ray Of Light to lead thee on thy way ; Truth be the star that shines above Thy home of Beauty and of Love, Then shall its influence benign Make thee and thy pure soul divine ; Tho' its far orb thou may'st not reach Its sacred light thy heart shall teach, — None may the Very Truth secure, But Truthfulness is ever sure ! Lo, in full glory now unrolled There stands the sovran peak — behold, 128 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. Snow-white and solemn, vast and grand, Great hierarch of this ' holy land,' Now Monte Rosa high in air Gleams, and its gospel would declare. O long as on its supreme crest Unmoved the changeless snow shall rest. Long as their wealth the years unfold, To every pilgrim young or old, — To every wandering soul whose sight Here feasts with wonder and delight, — To every heart it shall be told By mystic symbols manifold. Love, Truth, and Beauty, are the Three That now must form thy Trinity ! To these the Voices in the air Now chant their hymns of praise and prayer ; To these the avalanches cry When downward sweeping from on high ; To these the deep-blue gentian-flower Unfolds the mystery of its dower ; To these the bending pine-trees sigh When swift the stormy winds rush by : — Love, Truth, and Beauty ] Still to these THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA. 1 29 Are sung the sweetest melodies, While all the spheres unite to bring Oblation, and glad paeans sing ; To these, now Monte Rosa bears True witness, and their worship shares ; To these who will may upward soar And dwell with God for evermore. I30 THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE. ' And long before the day Was old, the joy which waked like heaveW s glance The sleepers in the oblivious valley, died ; And some grew weary of the ghastly dance, . . . Then, " What is lifeV I cried: Shelley. Who saith that Joy hath passed away, Life's glory hath departed ? Not they who own Love's holy sway, The true, the steadfast-hearted ; Then, Soul, take wing ! Aise and sing, And crown Life with thy roundelay. II. Where lightly trips amid the hills The brown-limbed village maiden, THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE. 131 Life still for her with Pleasure thrills, — And still with Music laden, Far down the steep Glad waters leap To greet the golden daffodils. III. The meadows bathed in matin dew Are clothed with gay apparel ; While high in Heaveil, hid from view, The lark trills out his carol ; Then upward soar, O Heart, once more Thy praises and thy song renew. IV. In Arcady, when flushed the dawn. Blithe shepherds to Apollo Their paeans sang from grassy lawn. Green bank, and sheltered hollow, — That with the Spring He back might bring Their Eoves more gentle than the fawn. 132 THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE. V. Was it not his what time the light Erst brooded o'er Earth's bosom, — And his the gift when Love's new might Crowned Life with bud and blossom ? Thrice-gracious boon, Though heaven's high noon With dazzling splendour daze our sight. VI. In gardens of the purple Sea, 'Neath Ocean's rocky bower, 'Mid groves where trailing seaweeds be, As fair as any flower. Life sprang to birth, Then o'er the earth Thro' vale and upland fain would flee. VII. And lo, in every mossy dell Life's children now are dwelling ; Brief tenants they, yet who shall tell, All mystery dispelling, THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE. 133 What hope, what aim, What upward flame. Stirs every heart with ceaseless spell. VIII. The Swallow wheeling thro' the air. Borne on the wings of rapture, — The Bat that haunts some ruin bare, Winged fairy fearing capture, — These have delight, And day or night Each heart its wreath of joy must wear. IX. Then who shall grieve, or who shall say Life's glory hath departed ? Nay, sigh no more Death's well-a-way, But be ye still blithe-hearted ; — Each grassy lawn At golden dawn With love shall greet your roundelay. 134 LUX NATURAE. A Lyrical Monologue. Come hither, most gentle, most holy ! Come hither, all truth-loving souls ! The shadows are fading, and slowly The new Light its vision unrolls, — The stream and the meadow and mountain, life's splendour and rapture and joy. Come hither, — come, list to the chorus Of Nature's own mystical choir ; The sighing, the grandly sonorous Diapason of Ocean's desire ; The warbling of birds in the forest, — the wailing of winds in the night. LUX NATURAE. 1 35 All sounds and the versatile voices That people the earth and the air ; The glad notes, the strain that rejoices ; The sad tones that tell of despair ; Their song with our singing shall mingle, our singing with Nature shall chime. Away o'er the hills and wide ocean, Away on the wings of the wind. Our chant and the voice of devotion Shall float, and each mortal remind The day of our singing is finite, yet deathless the glory of life. First laud we the name that is nearest To godlike in nation or clan ; The name that is fairest and dearest, Writ deep in the spirit of Man ; — 'Tis Freedom, the birthright of mortals, the guerdon of hearts that are brave. 'Tis Freedom, the gift of great blessing. True herald of honour and peace ; 136 LUX NATURAE. 'Tis Freedom that boldly repressing Now biddeth all tyranny cease ; That breaketh the rod of the mighty and setteth the lowly on high. Like flowers that bloom on the mountains, Pure blossoms of daintiest hue ; Like waters of forest-girt fountains, With rays of the sun flashing thro'. Is the soul that is free from all bondage, nor fearful of gods or of men. Who knows not the torment of terror. Who dreads not the dark gate of Death, Whom Truth and the freedom from error Have taught what the Wise Spirit saith. Stands robed in the raiment of beauty and reigns o'er the kingdom of souls. The lilt of the skylark, — the rapture Of liberty, melody, love, — It dreams not of lordship or capture, It heeds not, while soaring above. LUX NATURAE. 1 37 The world and its fetters and fashions, its serfdom and sorrow and sin. As dew on the uplands at morning, Fresh tears that the darkness hath shed. As fair as the sunhght adorning With halo a young maiden's head, Is faith in the, progress of knowledge, — and trust in the guidance of Truth. Joy loves not the darkness, but lingers By roadside and rillet and brake When Dawn with her fair rosy fingers Illumines each meadow and lake ; For Light, — 'tis the giver of life, and the sun the first father of all ! And blessed is he in whose spirit Light dwells that is pure as the dove, For he, he alone shall inherit The crown and the sceptre of Love ; He only shall look on the face, and behold the great beauty, of God. 138 LUX NATURAE. Most Holy of Holies ! Nay, truly, Whatever we think Him or name. We deem and we hold not unduly That He and fair Love are the same ; The same in the heart of the thinker, the same in the gospel of Man. In the midst of the forest His shrine is ; The shore of the desolate sea Hath hearkened and knows that divine is The Voice that from Nature to thee Still speaks 'mid the lonely recesses, from mountain and desert and mere. It tells of the infinite beauty Of life hidden far from the world. Where Love is sole teacher of Duty, And Joy with her banner unfurled Goes forth with the children of hght, with the living and loving and true. All worship in Nature the glory. The wonder, the grandeur, the peace ; LUX NATURAE. 1 39 And till Time and the Ages grow hoary The seasons and years shall not cease To chant with clear voices immortal the high, holy rapture of life. 140 THE HUMAN MIND. To PvRrho. In vain, in vain you strive each day Truth's hidden wealth to find ; You know not how, in what strange way Exists the Human Mind. A perfume issues from the rose, A Ught from yonder fire, — But ah, the mystery who knows Of Thought, or Soul's desire ? SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 143 NATURES VOICES. The bee goes humming 'mid the honeyed bells ; The bird of morning, as he upward soars, High at the gate of Paradise outpours His matin melody ; the breezy dells Are carol-haunted ; hark, the cuckoo tells Of faery worlds unseen ; past cottage doors The rill scarce whispers, while full loudly roars The thundering torrent down the echoing fells. And these are Nature's voices, these the choir That bid the poet join their band and sing ; Thrice-happy choristers, no poet's lyre Should mar the rapture that your voices bring : Sing on, O sing, and let our sole desire Be, at your feet, to still lie listening. 144 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. HELVELLYN. To heaven uplifted, throne on throne, behold A sea of surging mountains, far and near ; Wave upon wave, the encircling heights appear For ever fixed, for ever onward rolled ! Still in the tranquil valleys as of old Shimmer the sylvan lakes to Wordsworth dear, UUs water, Coniston, and Windermere, — With many an upland tarn the hills enfold. Helvellyn, round thy crest the swallows wheel, And shriek for glee. To-day we too would feel The joy of living. Soon life's path once more Shall lead us downward to the vale below, — O waves that onward roll, ere yet we go, Your mystic influence on our souls outpour. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 14S ITINERANTS. Whence come these wanderers, from what southern clime, Playing, before my window, in the street — This man and woman in whose presence meet Impassioned whisperings of a world sublime, As though their sires had' sat in olden time Within the Forum, or at Caesar's feet ? He, sternly gracious, seems my gaze to greet With the weird grandeur of a Dantesque rhyme ; And she, who moves so gently, — she whose mien Might grace a Beatrice or adorn Love's-Queen,— Perchance hath near the Pincian known of yore The love-lit welcome and the light of home ! Yet vain is all surmise, we'll guess no more, — I said, 'Whence come ye?' — and she answered ' Rome.' DOLGELLY, 18S7. 146 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. KRAKATOA, AUGUST 27, 1883. O'er Krakatoa the lurid clouds hung low : — Forth from the crater leapt lithe tongues of flame, Lapping the heavens till the dread hour came When burst that mighty force which dealt the blow. Earth, sea, and air, 'mid the vast overthrow, Rebounded, and resounded, and the frame Of Nature shook : — while, whispering it to fame. The wildered winds thrice round the world did go. O night of terror ! — and O morn of woe ! When hamlet after hamlet none might save Was whelm'd beneath the dark sea's ravening wave : We weep, we mourn, but Nature doth not so, — She paints the windows of her western skies With radiant sunsets and resplendent dyes. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 147 THE OLD HOMESTEAD. Above the terrace-walk at eventide, Where once the cactus bloomed and blue-bird sang, Ere owls begin to screech the still bats glide. And from yon arbour-roof the cobwebs hang. By Laura's seat engirt with eglantine, Where she in days of yore ofttimes would sit, The deadly-nightshade now its coils doth twine. And round this Tuscan vase pale shadows flit ! Ah, happy hours we passed by Laura's seat ! Ah, happy hours foregone, so fair, so fleet ! Now she by Avon dwells, demure and grey. And I by Thamis' tide pay life his toll ; — O would these fleeting years but backward roll, And Laura's smile once more make glad the day. 148 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. My NATIVE STREAM. Dear babbling stream, dear playmate of my soul When on thy bank mine eyes erst saw the light, — O River Wharfe, whose rippling waters roll Where grassy mead and towering crag unite, Be mine thy heritage, be mine thy might, Ere yet yon westering sun hath reached its goal. To chant like thee my song, then thro' the night Shall dulcet melodies my dreams control. Nay, restless River, hurrying to the sea Past many a bower with many a rosebud gay. Why hasten on thy course so fickle-fleet From leafy nooks where Love awhile would stay ? Once more together here, once more 'twere sweet To loiter thro' the day alone with thee. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 149 NIGHT-FALL. The shades of evening lengthen, — let us close The latticed window, and draw down the blind : These shadows seem as spirits, and the wind Moans in its wandering ; mournfully it goes As some poor soul that grievous sorrow knows, Or homeward traveller fearful lest he find Beside his hearth the doom that haunts his mind, And o'er his pathway its grim visage show^. As haunted houses are our haunted hearts. Wherein pale spirits of past sorrows dwell ! Wherein, as players that play many parts, Presentiments their tragic tales foretell ! Draw close the curtain, — aye, shut out the night ; The night is dark, let love then be our light. ISO SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. DORT. So quiet, yet so quaint ! Shall sad heart toll The doom of days departed ? Nay, draw near, — The sovran balm of peace and rest is here ! From street to street lethargic waters roll, And like the symbols of an ancient scroll The houses breathe an old-world atmosphere : Grim Gomarists are gone, nor will we fear Lest wiser Zwinglians they again control. Yet hush ! High in the trees, around the church. The rooks are holding synod, — can the dead Unrestful rise, and wrangle over-head ? Then for the Gomarists we need not search ! But Dort, — Dort doffs their robe of ' graceless ' gloom, And wears her tall magnolias in full bloom. Dort, 1884. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 151 IN THE PIAZZA DI S. MARCO. ' Plus me plaist le sejour qu'ont basty mes ayeux, Que des palais Remains le front aiidacieux.' Du Bellay. In Venice by St. Mark's at eve I stood Beside the Ducal Palace — and behold, Through the piazza a vast multitude Of doves wheeled downward from the Duomo's gold : Upon their wings I sped to where of old Before my childhood's home in dreamful mood We listened when, with cooings manifold, Amid the neighbouring elms the stockdoves wooed. O happy childhood ! — and O happy home ! With clematis and roses mantled o'er, More golden than the Duomo's gilded dome Your weeping-ash that was our dome of yore : For still we deem the dearest spot on earth The home, where'er it be, that gave us birth. 152 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. CHATEAU FREYR. 'Mid brooding silence and deep solitude Unwatched the dreamy fountains softly play ; The antique trees stand round in quaint array, Trim old-world worshippers of sombre mood : Within this ancient paradise intrude No mortal-mocking thoughts of life's decay, Yet here the youthful wanderer well might pray ' For age as lovely, with like peace imbued. Fair scene, farewell ! Farewell, lone avenue ! Farewell, farewell once more — old house, adieu ! Thy gift within our heart we long shall keep. Thy treasured memory in our spirit store, — Like some fair dream that crowns thy peaceful sleep With days of rapture and old loves of yore. DiNANT, 1887. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. I S3 SOUL AND, BODY. Where wert thou, Soul, ere yet my body born Became thy dwelling-place ? Didst thou on earth, Or in the clouds, await this body's birth ? Or by what chance upon that winter's morn Didst thou this body find, a babe forlorn ? Didst thou in sorrow enter, or in mirth ? Or for a jest, perchance, to try its worth Thou tookest flesh, ne'er from it to be torn ? Nay, Soul, I will not mock thee ; well I know Thou wert not on the earth, nor in the sky ; For with my body's growth thou too didst grow ; But with that body's death wilt thou too die ? I know notj and thou canst not tell me, so In doubt we'll go together— thou and I. 1 54 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. ALMOND-BLOSSOM. Sweet almond-blossom, blooming ere the spring Hath well begun, — ere yet bleak winds and cold Have shivering fled, your flowers we behold ! Glad tidings of blithe days your petals bring, — Glad tidings of blithe days when birds shall sing, And forest-trees shall all their leaves unfold, And Nature don her robe of green and gold To meetly greet us in our wandering. Pale-tinted petals, what is this ye say? The summer comes, but ye shall not remain To share its glory ? What, will ye not stay. But as some youthful bard that sings his lay, Then droops and dies by his own sweetness slain, Will ye your beauty yield, and pass away ? SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 55 'FROM NIGHT TO NIGHT: From night to night, through circling darkness whirled, Day dawns, and wanes, and still leaves, as before, The shifting tides and the eternal shore : Sources of life, and forces of the world. Unseen, unknown, in folds of mystery furled, Unseen, unknown, remain for evermore : — To heaven-hid heights man's questioning soul would soar, Yet falls from darkness unto darkness hurled ! Angels of Ught, ye spirits of the air, Peopling of yore the dreamland of our youth. Ye who once led us through those scenes so fair. Lead now, and leave us near the realm of Truth : Lo, if in dreams some truths we chanced to see, Now in the truth some dreams may haply be. 156 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. WOOD- WANDERINGS. (Summer.) It is the heat of summer, and I lie Couched, by the rillet's brink, on mosses green ; Here 'neath the leafy forest's tangled screen So cool it is and quiet Time flits by On noiseless wing where hamadryads sigh, — Where hyacinth and wind-flower bloom between The ancient boles of elms, and where unseen Trim fairies' trip in moonlit revelry. Here kindly Nature to each wandering child Bids gracious welcome to her forest-shrine ; ' Come ye,' she cries, ' ye still unreconciled. Come ye, and gather roses, and be mine ; See, here are orchids, and here 's eglantine, And young buds peeping where the spring has smiled.' SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 157 WOOD- WANDERINGS. (Autumn. ) In green and gold, in purple and dark-red, Behold, the woods stand robed in stateliest dress ; Yet soon, too soon, to utter nakedness Shall Winter strip them, and their vesture shed Be mingled with the mould on which we tread ! Ah, cruel Winter, that with cold caress Canst chill the loving hearts that fain would bless Thy barren hours to blossoming haunts unwed. Lo, Life and Love, through shadowy mazes led, Have kissed, and said 'good-bye,' though loth to part; Leaving these boughs with berries garlanded. Leaving pale flowers shrivelled to the heart ; Farewell, ye woods, — farewell, O forest- dell. Ye solemn pines, farewell awhile, — farewell ! 158 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. GIPSIES, NEAR DOLGELLY. Children of Nature, nestling through the night 'Mid the woods fearless, as the wild woods free ! Watching, above you, starry orbs of light Gleam through the moving branches of a tree, — Say, have ye learnt, in learning's own despite, More than we know, — O children, do ye see Further, and deeper, and with a keener sight. All things beholding as in truth they be ? Nay, for who knoweth, who indeed can know. What in clear vision Life may never show ; What Nature, giving, deigns not to outpour, Or, in revealing, still conceals from view ? Yet in our heart there is a niche for you. And ye are welcome, — welcome evermore ! SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 59 AD MATREM. Once more 'Ye banks and braes of bonnie Doon,' Once more the ancient melody soundeth near ; And still at twilight hour I seem to hear The soothing numbers and the well-known tune : Life glideth swiftly by, and past its noon The day begins to fade, once bright and clear ; Yet softly falls the cadence on mine ear, Once more 'Ye banks and braes of bonnie Doon.' Dear, lulling lullaby she sang, how sweet ! While round her child her loving arms she cast, First sound of music heard, remembered last ! O mother, when in other worlds we meet, With the same notes my newborn spirit greet, Wilth the same air we loved in days long past. l6o SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. TO ONE IN TOWN Come back, come back, 'tis Nature bids you come ! Come back once more to tarn and tangled wood, — Come back to glen, and stream, and torrent flood, — Come back, and 'mid the woodlands make your home : Too long you quit the birds, the flowers, the dome Of forest-boughs, — the dell, where once you stood Life-thrilled, and living knew that life was good ; Too long you miss the bees, the busy hum Of painted bodies, and the ceaseless stir Of wings, — the sounds, the joy, the passing whirr Of drone, or dragon-fly, — these, these are thine. And yet you have them not, — what have you then ? The dusky shapes, and care-worn ways, of men : Come back, come back, to Nature and her shrine ! SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. l6l THE ROMANI TRIBE. Ill names they give you — ye are out of date — A ttoop of idlers in a land of toil — Rank weeds amid the wheat — robbers that spoil The husbandman — mere thieves that lie in wait Around the homestead, by the orchard gate — Rude Ishmaelites, whose children still would foil The teacher — brazen tongues, smoother than oil, That crave our pittance, and reveal our fate. Ill names they give you, — ye to them have given Visions of happiness who now reprove you ; Visions of simple hearts that have not striven To barter Freedom for a dream of heaven ; The birds and flowers around, the stars above you. They share your lot, they welcome, and they love you. M 1 62 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. A METAPHYSIC - CUL BE SAC We know, — indeed, we know we do not know : We think, — but what, my masters, what is ' thought ' ? The mystery with which the mind is fraught Mind cannot solve : We see, — yet who can show We see things as they are ? Ideas grow, — Who knows from what, or how ? As leaflets caught Up by the passing wind, thoughts come unsought, Then flee away, and whither do they go? Our senses may a web of fancies weave : Our brain we fain would use to test our brain : Yea, what perception is we would perceive ; And out of nothing we would something gain : We cannot prove, and yet we would believe, Since unbelief itself is worse than vain. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 63 THE GARDENS OF NEREUS. 'Mid deep sea pastures that the dolphins love, 'Neath rocky bowers hidden far away, With pearl-strewn grotto and dim coral grove. And many an amber path where mermaids stray, — Beyond the tumult of our garrulous day, Blooming unseen in ocean's vast alcove, Behold these gardens that our wonder move With sea-flowers brilliant and with pennons gay. Here Love first blossomed, here was Life first seen. In pre-historic eras long ago, Ere yet from ocean rose the Cyprian Queen, Or Eve in Eden fain would taste and know ; And here, when earth-born hearts shall cease to beat. Love shall, with Life, still find a last estreat. 164 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. LALEHAM. (i(jth April, 1888.) With Thyrsis wandering as in days of old Haply thou hearkenest 'mid the realms of shade To him, thy master, by the Rotha laid — ' No shepherd singing his Sicilian fold, But the lone minstrel on life's weary wold Who to the Muse its healing power conveyed. With Thyrsis — hush, the mists of death are spread Around the mount of song, nor backward rolled Shall they the shadow-land to us unfold. Though here, beside this grave, we bow the head In silence and deep sorrow. Of the dead. Whom mortals as immortal now behold, Yea, of the deathless, let this alone be said — For truth he battled, true warrior, unafraid ! ' Wordsworth. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 165 LITERATURE AND NATURE. 'Mid Cambrian heights around Dolgelly vale, What time we scaled great Cader's rugged pile, Or loitered idly where still meadows smile Beside the Mawddach-stream, or far Cynfael — No tome or rhythmic page, no pastoral tale, Our summer-sated senses would beguile ; Or lull our ears to melody, the while The voiceful rill ran lilting down the dale. In London town once more — behold, once more The old delight returns ! 'Mid heights how vast, In Milton's verse, through what dim paths we wind ; How Keats's canvas glows, and Wordsworth's lore. As tarn or torrent pure, by none surpass'd. Sheds light and love — unfathomed, undefined. 1 66 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. HUMAN. Across the trackless skies thou may'st not wander ; Thou may'st not tread the infinite beyond ; In peace possess thy soul, reflect and ponder, Full brief thy gaze tho' Nature's magic wand Light up an universe, and bid thee wonder ! What though beyond the sea there may be land Where grows the vine, where blooms the oleander, Where verdure gleams amid the desert sand, — Yet not for thee those foreign, fertile spaces. Remote, unseen, unknown, though known to be ! Thy home is here, and here beloved faces Make sweet and fair the home and heart of thee ; Thy home is here, and here thy heart embraces Life's joy and hope, love, truth, and liberty ! SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. \6^ ROSA MARIAE. Rare, mystic symbol of the life newborn, Rejuvenescent to the dews of heaven ! Sweet spirit-flower, by stormy wind-blast torn Up by the root, and through dark regions driven Far from the Eden of your home at morn, Lo, dropt in peace, at the still hour of even You bloom once more, — once more by love upborne To your expanding boughs new grace is given. Pure, perfect token of Life's deathless power. From age to age, — now here, now elsewhere seen ! Now gracing with its gift love's vernal bower. Now leaving desert tracts where it hath been ; For ever dying, yet for ever living — New forms unfolding, and new beauty giving. l68 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. GIORDANO BRUNO. A Martyr's crown we bind around thy brow : Yea, though unworthy be our halting strain, Thy glorious death shall not be sung in vain : Brave men have died, yet who so brave as thou ! O noblest Bruno, what could thee endow With strength to speak those words of bold disdain,- ' Bear ye the blame as I will bear the pain ! ' — What, but the truth ? Therefore to thee we bow ! From thee was wrung no weak despairing cry : Thou didst not falter for thy life's dear sake : Retract thou wouldst not, nor thy faith deny ; Nor could death's doom thy steadfast spirit shake : Let falsehood tremble, and let false hearts quake, Truth ever lives, and Bruno shall not die. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 169 THE CABINET. See now these crystals : This is celestine, — This amethyst, — and this, yes, cinnabar ; You note the perfect shape, no flaw to mar The sheer-cut sides, the ever-glistering sheen Of point and facet ! Look, where have you seen Work done more deftly ? While each crystal star Hath its own form, deep in this Iceland-spar Lurk hidden rainbows, — azure, gold, and green ! You saw them not ere now, yet now you see Their iridescence ! What, how came they there ? And who, who formed the crystals ? Nay, forbear. Ask not ! Perchance, methinks, the powers that be. The immanent laws, the innate forces, share A birthright ancient as eternity. 170 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. ON THE SUMMIT. Upward, still upward, mounts our path, — the track 'Mid rock and shingle hides. Here, bleak and bare. Gaunt cliffs confront us — clearer grows the air, Keener the blast, — below, than night more black. Yawns the dread chasm, — upward, not looking back, We scale the summit's citadel, we share Its cairn-crowned height. The view, how vast, how fair ! ' All things behold ! ' we cry : — But ah, alack ! That line far-off where hill and valley end. That line of blue the sundering ocean is ; We climb the heights of knowledge, where ascend The wisest of all time, yet learn but this, — Beyond man's utmost sight there still must be Limitless vistas and a boundless sea. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 171 IN THE WOODS OF SWEET CHESTNUT^ Where still Varenna wears her cypress-crown At eve amid the chestnut-woods I lay ; The twilight lingered with the little town, Then round by Cadenabbia stole away : The dim woods darkened at the set of day ; Yet where the forest-shadows lowering frown Like fairies with their lamps the fire-flies stray, Lighting their lanterns as the sun goes down. There in the dusk, in silence resting there. Was it a Spirit-Voice I heard declare — Some Pixy of the Woods that stopped to say — ' Eternal are the skies and infinite ; Eternal are the stars that shine so bright ; But here a little while the fire-flies play.' 172 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. TO-DA Y. But yesterday thou wast the Morrow, — gay With pictured joys, and plans, and pleasant dreaming ; A land of promise, with rich treasure teeming ; To-morrow shalt thou be but Yesterday, With all thy dreams forgot and past away ! To-day thou art as nothing, scarcely seeming Worthy a moment's thought, — a brief light gleaming Down vistaed avenues, — a fleeting ray ! To-day ! And yet To-day shall live for ever, In every heart an everlasting mark ; — The tides of time shall ebb and flow, yet never Efface the deathless traces of To-day ! To-day, who will may work, who will may play, Soon, soon, the night shall come, the night is dark. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 73 THE SOLITARY. Threading the busy streets and noisy town, With face uncovered but with heart concealed, Wearing no domino, yet unrevealed, Man walks in solitude, and lives unknown ! What though the orbs that throng yon azure zone Through countless ages have in concert wheeled, Though glory unto glory hath appealed, Man, hapless man, still moves and dwells alone. Nor whence he comes, nor whither goes, nor why — Though we may ask, will any voice reply ! A greater mystery must we yet declare, A mightier wonder must our wonder crown. He is, — O list, ye hills and meadows fair ! Not more to others than to self unknown. 174 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. NANTGLYN. The land is full of fragrance and wild-roses, Rich elder-bloom, brown clover, and sweet briar ; And here, in rustic garb and plain attire, AVithin its sheltering nook Nantglyn reposes : Here Summer lingers long, and Life discloses The honeyed sweets of satisfied desire ; Here Autumn gleans her crops of golden fire, And here old Winter by the ingle dozes. An Eden surely, with no snake beguiling, — No fruit to make man wiser than before ; No Tree of Knowledge, but a garden smiling With gifts that leave him simple evermore : Yet here to dwell, here lotus-flowers to cull, — O life how dreary, and Paradise how dull ! SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 75 WHAT HOPE IS THINE 1 O HEART, O beating heart, what hope is thine ? What longing sweeter than all things that be, Fills thy fair soul with mute expectancy, Waiting the advent, watching for a sign ' To mark the coming of thy lord divine ? What light that other mortals may not see, O heart, what hidden light makes bright for thee The sad hours when no radiant sunbeams shine ? Is thine a hope no treacherous tongue can slay ? Can never changeful fortune sound its knell ? Is thine a light more glorious than the day, More rich than wealth or fickle fame can tell ? If this be so, if this be what you say, — Then heart, O heart, with thee 'tis surely well. 176 ' SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. A GIPSY GIRL. Amid the daffodils in yonder dell, Wild, dark-eyed daughter of a wandering race, Won by the working of a woodland spell, I watch, unseen, the vision of your face ; For you the cadence of this Sabbath-bell Bears no sweet summons to a holier place. Yet still the glen-flowers and lent-lilies tell To you of peace, of purity, and grace. And I, with creed as simple as your own. With no place holier on the earth than this. Still built upon the Truth behold the Throne, And in each loving heart a sacred bliss : — Yet if, beyond the skies, to worlds unknown I fain would wander, I the pathway miss. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. \^^ WORSHIP. The Indian loved on Fancy's wing to soar To western climes where mighty hunters dwelt ; On dewy turf, by mountain stream, he knelt And prayed for help to reach that happy shore. Adoring Israelites in days of yore, 'Neath shrines of shining gems and bossy gold. Bent down to Him of Whom the prophets told : Whilst Greeks in terror 'mid the tempest's roar Poured forth, with prayer, their sacrificial store ; And Druid priests, beneath the Sacred Tree, . Salvation sought with rites now known no more : — Thus hath each shore, thus hath each billowy sea, With varying voices, raised one piteous cry, One prayer for aid, nor waited for reply. Wharfedale, 1859. 178 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. GENESIS. In the beginning ! — Nay, there never was The day, forsooth, that knew no yesterday ! Let Fancy be your steed, and ride straightway Back through the Past — nor stop, nor lingering pause ; Each stride an era ! Yea, no less, because The road runs far ! Then reach, if so you may. The primal limit of this long array, Fast-flitting moments and eternal laws. It may not be ! Far back tho' you may go, Beyond still looms an earlier age, and still Old Time hath yet remoter days to show ; Before wild-roses bloomed the daffodil, — Before the daffodil the crocus reigned,— Before your chaos an older kosmos waned. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 79 NATURE. This mount shall be our fane, a holy place ! No acolyte shall swing the thurible, Nor whispering worshipper his rosary tell ; No priest shall here stand robed in lawn and lace ; But the Eternal shall look down through space. And we will gaze and wonder : — it is well ! Here where the heath-flower and the wild thyme dwell, How sweet is life, how fair, how full of grace ! In place of prayer we'll chant our joyous praise. And with glad voices sing in Nature's choir : These lines of fir shall see on Sabbath-days Our faces flushing with dur heart's desire. As up the mountain-side, through wooded ways. We seek that peace to which our souls aspire. l80 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE LIBERTY. Yet what is Liberty ? To scale the height Of loftiest freedom, vassals to no foe, — To watch the battling multitudes, and know Our land is free, nor dreads a conqueror's might, — To gain this vantage-ground, and then to smite Our struggling neighbour in the plain below. To slay, enslave; and rule ? — If this be so. Then farewell, Freedom ! farewell, Love's pure light ! Yet what is Liberty ? To yield the right Of others to be free ; to deem it sin That fain would bind, forsooth, and blast, and blight. Free lands, free homes, that greed may reign therein ? Yes, this is Liberty, — this is to be free From shameful lust, from shameless tyranny. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. l8l IN TRANSITU. And yet to rest ! to rest here from the strife Of angry tongues that vex the weary soul With dissonant speech ; — to gain, and grasp the whole Dark mystery that shrouds our earthly life, And then to rest, to strive with doubt no more ! Unmoved to sit and watch the ceaseless wave Of changing creeds roll onward to the shore, And cresting, break and die ; — unmoved to brave The taunts of wild fanatics, and the roar Of halting crowds, that in their darkness rave Against the light of reason ; — and to be Like some fair ship in sheltered haven moored, Safe from the storm, by no vain meteor lured To track dark phantoms o'er a pathless sea ! Oxford, 1864, 1 82 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. MEMORIALS OF TRAVEL. It is not idle that the soul should store Memorials of its wandering. Can the heart From Castellamare or Albano part Without one gift to keep for evermore, — One treasured trophy of each town or shore Where our steps lingered ? Nay, on memory's chart May not some flower, or shell, or waif of art, Still mark Venezia, or recall Lodore ? Far have we wandered through the realm of Thought, Far down the faery dells of Dreamland been, These are the relics that we home have brought, The tribute of the lands that we have seen ; Here now, a soul's memorial, let them lie, — Dim, rhythmic symbols of the life gone by. SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 83 LE ^APPEY. From Gr^sivaudan's vine-clad vale we turn, We seek Le Sappey and its mountain home ; Wandering afar 'mid these lone peaks we roam, Here fain the world's unwisdom to unlearn : For Chamacaude awhile our heart doth yearn ; There 'neath the uplifted heaven's empyreal dome Haply the New Light waits us ! — Hush, we come To Nature's inner realm where men discern Unveiled, revealed, the Verities of Life ! l^each us, O Nature, teach us, 'mid thy strife. More than of old the old-world prophets taught ; Teach us thy truth ! Ah, now thy voice we hear,^ To the Eternal Laws obedient. Thought Through them — with them — shall reign, and know no fear. 1 84 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. A PERSIAN APOLOGUE. Love came to crave sweet love, if love might be ; To the Beloved's door he came, and knocked : — ' And who art thou ? ' she asked, — ' we know not thee ! ' Then shyly listened, nor the door unlocked. Love answered, ' It is I ! ' ' Nay, thee and me This house will never hold.' — 'Twas thus she mocked His piteous quest ; and, weeping, home went he, While thro' the night the moaning plane-tree rocked. Three seasons sped, and lo, again Love came ; Again he knocked j again in simple wise, ' Pray, who is there ? ' she asked,- — ' What is thy name ? ' But Love had learnt the magic of replies, — ' It is Thyself ! ' he whispered, and behold, The door was opened, and love's mystery told. SONNETS or NATURE AND LIFE. 1 85 DAISY. (Aetat. 4.) When crowned with innocence we watch her go Far down the garden-path, her faery-land, The budding rose-trees then more sweetly blow, Each guardian angel waves a fragrant wand ; The gauze-winged dragon-fly starts up to show His fiery marvel of a rainbow-brand, And as she passes by the robins know How they must sing their best at her command ! She is our Faery-Queen whose forest rings With bursts of merriment and thrills of glee ; She is our ' eye of day,' whose dawning brings To-light the wonders of earth, sky, and sea ; Our love is she, re-risen, — and she sings Of bliss new-born, great joy that yet shall be. 1 86 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. THE HOUSE OF LIFE. Are these God's tenants of the house of Ufe, From age to age this pitiless, pitiful gang ? This ' slaughter,' hke a wolf with bloody fang ; This hungry ' hatred,' with the uplifted knife ; This ' envy,' snake-bound witch, fame's hapless wife ; Are these the tenants whose discordant clang Startled the morn when erst from chaos sprang This mocking kosmos of a world at strife ? See, round the gateway gathered still they stand, The rightful owners — outcast, beaten, banned ! Love, Truth, and Liberty ! — these seek once more Life's ancient heritage to gain and hold : Ah, is it true, or but a fable told. These were God's tenants in the days of yore ? SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. 1 87 THE PORTAL. This was the vision : On an eastern strand An ancient portal rose up to my view : A massive arch that all things must pass through, Ere their true meaning Man could understand : It seemed a gateway built of God's own hand, Whosd hidden age no mortal ever knew, — Existent then what time man's knowledge grew, And in the eternal past divinely planned. Upon its hallowed front long years untold Had worn the letters once' full plainly writ, — ' Experience is the Portal, and behold, The knowledge that ye seek must pass through it ; Lo, its wide gates swing loosely, as of old. All truth and useful wisdom to admit.' 1 88 SONNETS OF NATURE AND LIFE. RELIGIO LAICI. The creed of creeds, the holiest and most true, That the soul knows ere yet the ears receive, — That with our heartstrings we together weave, And deem diviner than gods old or new ! That of each tangled skein can give the clue ; That saith, ' Behold, I cannot thee aggrieve, This, this, at least, is true ! then, this believe, And this will teach thee what things thou shouldst do.' ' What is this creed, this talisman,' we cry, ' So strangely gifted and so little known ? Nay, tell us, nay, proclaim it from on high. That all may heed, and take it as their own.' — O creed of creeds ! If Love be but your cre^d, No more than love to guide you shall you Jieed ! THE CITY OF GOD. 191 THE CITY OF GOD. Come hither, nor wander, — but whither Shall they go who would find the abode ? Many ages men journey together Still seeking the City of God. Come hither, nor wander, Spirit Of Man, in the maze of thy mind ; What solace, what joy, or what merit, Shouldst thou in such wandering find ? Come hither, but whither ? — nay, truly Many prophets have told us the way. Yet the cities we found were but newly- Built dweUings of stucco and clay. 192 THE CITY OF GOD. ' Come hither, O Spirit, come hither ! ' Shrieked teachers of blasphemous din ; ' Come hither, ye sinners ! ' — and thither Went Folly, and Sorrow, and Sin. ' Come hither,' cried Calvin, ' Hell waits you Predestined to torture arid pain Everlasting ; God made you, He hates you — Good deeds shall ye do but in vain ! ' 'Come hither,' Rome thundered, 'come hither, To the marvels of Orient birth, To prodigies, miracles,' — thither Fled a maniac-tenanted earth. And ever they hasten, and ever, With the eager impetuous roar Of a torrent-fed mountain-girt river. They rush to their shrines and adore. But the Desert still widens around them ; And the Mirage that led them is gone ; THE CITY OF GOD. 193 And their numberless teachers confound them With dogmas of brass and of stone ; Till they cry, ' Is it vain, our endeavour To find out the sacred abode ? Is it vain ? — then in vain, yet for ever, We will seek for the City of God ! ' ' Full wisely and well was it spoken, — " Who seeketh he truly shall find ; " And the hope in our hearts is the token Of the peace in God's city enshrined.' O Vista of infinite Beauty ! Lo, our feet with new rapture are shod ; See, there is the Pathway of Duty, And it leads to the City of God. 194 ■ O BIRDS, O HAPPY BIRDS: I. O Birds, O happy Birds, That flit across the seas, That skim the golden rivers. And float upon the breeze, — Give us your wings of rapture. Give us your wealth of song, Give us the power to capture Joys that to you belong. II. O thou that from the grass Soar'st upward to the sky. Wilt thou, glad Spirit, teach us Far from this earth to fly, 'O BIRDS, O HAPPY BIRDS.' IQS Far from the boding shadows, Far from the barren shore, O Lark, above the meadows Singing for evermore ? III. Though sad the Peewits cry Across the fields forlorn. Though harsh the Landrail craketh Unseen amid the corn, Despite their weird insistence Your welcome notes shall show Blest is all blithe existence ; Joy beckons, and we go. IV. And still the Swallows fleet Dart by on airy wing Where in the stream the willows Their wind-blown tresses fling ; Why haste they in mad riot,— Swift meteors of mid-day ! Too joyous to be quiet, Too eager to delay ? igS 'O BIRDS, O HAPPY BIRDS.' V. Yet, Seagulls, yet to you. Slow-sailing thro ' the air. To you, to you is given The calm we too would share ; Above life's changeful ocean On tranquil wing to soar. And float in dreamlike motion Though loud the storm-winds roar. VI. Then as the sun goes down Resplendent in the west, While far aloft the Wild-fowl Fly homeward to their rest. Each poet void of sadness Shall join the lyric throng, — Shall tune to bird-like gladness The last notes of his song. 197 FINITE AND INFINITE. I. I SIT on the sands by the sea, While the tired tides wearily flow ; And the waves seem to whisper to me Strange truths that I know not, or know : The lore of past ages they bring As they break on the shore at my feet ; And the finite and infinite meet In the words of the song that they sing : — If the universe be but One, If the bloom be one with the tree, — Though the day that hath been is done, The thing that hath been shall be. II. I gaze o'er the watery plain Till the heavens reach down to the sea, And I cry as I gaze thus in vain At what is not, but seemeth to be ; — 198 FINITE AND INFINITE. O finite and limited Man ! Ever longing to travel through space, Yet fastened and fixed in one place, Running forward the length of a span, — If each part with the whole be One, If the bloom be one with the tree. Though the day that hath been is done, The thing that hath been shall be. III. Still in vain do we struggle to pass The horizon that limits our sight ; But darkly to-day through a glass We see, and soon cometh the night : And what in the future shall be, Or what in the past may have been. Ere the sun and the sunlight were seen, Lies far on the infinite sea ! While the whispering waves sing on, — If the bloom be one with the tree. Though the day that hath been is done. The thing that hath been shall be. 199 THE PARADISE OF SONG. Once more unto the gates I come ; Once more I stand and wait ; I hear again the distant hum Of hymns to Beauty consecrate. The Twilight shadows gather round ; The golden sun goes down ; Once more the wooded heights resound With lilt and lay that Love would crown. Before the gates again I wait, And rhythmic Voices hear ; /Not theirs the message that too late Come they who beauty still revere. 200 THE PARADISE OF SONG. But ' Welcome, welcome ! ' still they cry, These voices from above ; — ' Welcome ! ' the echoing cliffs reply, ' Welcome, the songs of Life and Love ! 20I LA FONTAINE H AMOUR. I. Far ofif in a glen of the mountain, Engirdled by forests of pine, Was, they whispered, the legended fountain. Love's mystical fountain and shrine ; There the Angels descended at even To list to the nightingale's song, And they left there the guerdon of Heaven, The gift of a love that is strong. II. Then I said, ' I will go and behold it, This sacred sweet fountain of love ! Tho' I know not the dark groves that fold it. The leafy green haunts of the dove ; 202 LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR. Tho' I know not the mazy recesses, And glades where the. Dryads recline, — Where the forest bends down and caresses, I will kneel at this leaf-hidden shrine.' III. So I rose, and passed forth from the city. Through the granite-built gate of the town ; Nor heeded the dread of banditti. Nor the surly priest's darkening frown ; But on, and still on, never resting By roadside, or river, or dell, I sped like an arrow, attesting The might of Love's magical spell. IV. Away, and away, in the gladness And glamour of youth and delight, I fled past the pilgrims in sadness Returning to rest for the Night ; But diverging the road soon divided. And left me in doubt on the way ; And an echoing torrent derided My spirit that brooked not delay. LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR. 203 V. There the Swallows above the blue water Were darting, and down on the lea While tending her young lambs the daughter Of a yeoman stood gazing at me ; — And I thought, ' Surely, born on this mountain Yon gentle, fair Maiden will know The path that leads up to the Fountain, And will tell me the way I should go.' VI. Then I asked her, but blushing and sighing, And cooing more soft than the dove. She modestly whispered, replying That her heart was the fountain of Love ; Yet I doubted, and doubting departed From that simple, sweet, innocent maid ; Thro' the forest I rushed eager-hearted, Nor conquered, nor wholly dismayed. VII. Was it days, was it weeks that I wandered, — Or, in sooth, many months, many years, 'Mid those mazy recesses meandered, Oft mingling my rapture with tears ? 204 LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR. But never the Fountain, ah, never That pure lucid spring could I see ; And with sorrow I thought that for ever That fount might be hidden from me, VIII. When lo, in the Twilight at even, — Alone, far away from the world, — Where the Angels descended from Heaven As the shadows of Night were unfurled, Lo, there stood the Fountain before me, And fainting my heart was undone, But the spirit of gladness upbore me. And the sense of a victory won. IX. Yet where were the lovers ? No maiden With her wooer was there to be seen, — No Phoebus, no Phryne love-laden, No Cypris of old that had been ; But there by the brink of the fountain. The Fountain of Love undefiled, Alone there with God on the mountain A Mother lay clasping her Child. 205 'LOVE COMES NO MORE, OR RARELY COMES! Love comes no more, or rarely comes Again to his deserted homes ; To hearts that once have loved, and yet Must now remember to forget. So thought I as but yesterday I passed out with Louise to play Upon the lawn at battledore ; Yet ' love is love for evermore ! ' Our game soon ended, 'neath the limes We sat and talked of olden times : — ' Two years ago ! 'Tis long,' she said, ' Since last we met : we thought you dead ! ' 206 'LOVE COMES NO MORE.' A sadness as of discontent Was in her loving speech, that lent Enchantment to the linden-trees ; I spoke her name, I said — ' Louise, 'When last we met, too young, 'tis true, Was my heart's love for love of you ; Will you forgive if I avow You loved me then, I love you now ? ' She turned, a smile was on her face ; She turned but for a moment's space ; Yet ere her hand in mine she'd lay. Her downward glances seemed to say, ' At battledore too long we've play'd. Now you, now I — yet I'm afraid ; Will you be true if I too vow I loved you then, I — love you now ? ' 207 DII. ' Hecataeus, the historian of Miletus, who lived 500 B.C., expresses the opinion that for some 900 years the Gods had no longer taken women for their wives.' — Buchner. Ah, fickle lovers, foolish Gods ! Inconstant as the wind ! Your power hath faded from the earth, Your memory from mankind. Unwise, unwise, — ah, well-away ! And could ye not foresee How soon without those loving wives Extinct your race must be ? The ploughman hastens to his home : The thrush a mate hath found ; But ye have vanished from our view, Nor with your deeds astound. 208 LINES WRITTEN BY RYDAL WATER. Worship was a holy Maid, Faith a Refuge in the shade ; Gossips tell me both are gone — Tell me, Love, dost thou live on ? Then for wedded heart and head Thou shalt make the marriage-bed ; Wisdom as his Bride shall take Pity for the hearts that ache ! Lo, the children she shall bear, Shall Love's garland ever wear ; Holy children shall they be, Honor, Joy, and Charity. 209 NAPOLI. (Vedi NapoH e poi mori.) ' Metropolis of a ruined Paradise.' Shelley. I. O Napoli, methinks thou art A traitor with a treacherous heart ; Or Siren, singing by the sea, To lure men from true Uberty ; A shameless mermaid-courtesan. To waylay, cozen, and trepan ; And cruel thou hast cheated me, O Napoli, O NapoU ! II. By Virgil's tomb — thrice-happy fate ! A week, or more, I lived elate ; It stands, the house where we did stay, (Palazzo named Torlonia,) 210 NAPOLI. Where the Chiaja hath its end, And Margellina takes a bend, — By Maro's bones 'twas grand to be By Maro's tomb, O Napoli ! III. Each morn the Mantuan might have heard Our song, forsooth, as word by word, ' Virumque cano ' and the rest, We sang with true poetic zest : Where Petrarch, where Boccaccio, Had worshipped at Posilipo, We dwelt, and there 'twas good to be — Was it not good, O Napoli! IV. Wise Falcioni was mine host, And kinder soul can no man boast ; He roundly laughed, then shook his head ; Then laughed again, and, pointing, said, ' There, there is Virgil's tomb, but there The bones of Virgil never were ! ' It was a sham, — mere roguery To bring thee trade, O Napoli ! N APOLI. 21 1 V. Men say, ' See Naples, and then die! ' ' See Naples, and there learn to lie ' — Perchance, were wiser, and more true To Nature that here winks at you. O wily, wanton, Siren fair ! To sing thy praise we will not dare We will not sigh nor die for thee, O Napoli, O Napoli ! 212 IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. VIVE LA BAGATELLE ! 'Mid sugar-plums and prattle, The rosy children play ! The infant hath his rattle, And he shakes it all the day : Sweet music is its sound. And pleasant is its spell ; And never yet he found A toy he loved so well : — Then while the world goes round Who would not have his rattle. And still, 'mid ceaseless prattle, Cry, ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' IN THE CHAMPS ELYSfiES. 213 2. Thro' love-sick youthful years we Love once, and love once more ; And vow each time, wfth tears, we Have ne'er loved so before : — We love Marie so sweet, We love sweet Isabelle, Mathilde, or Marguerite, We love them all so well : And while soft glances greet. And kind is any maiden, We still shall cry, love-laden, Our ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' 3- In manhooii's eager battle Each plays a close-fought game. To make ^he guineas rattle, Or gain a passing fame ; And still some conquest new Must please us with its spell, Till he,' the man who slew, Lies near the man who fell ; — 214 IN THE CHAMPS ELYSfiES. Ah me, yon noisy crew ! He sleeps through all their rattle ; Whilst others in life's battle Cry, ' Vive la bagatelle ! ' 2IS OMNIA SOMNIA. 'Go, silly worm, drudge, trudge, and travel, Despising pain, so thou may'st gain Some honour, or some golden gravel,—' Sylvester. And thou, Sylvester, didst thou find, Awaking in the Night, The Dreamland of the human mind Laid bare unto thy sight ? And didst thou see a ' mighty smoke ' From ' burning matter ' mount, Was it the Pride of foolish folk Death deems of small account ? Renown a wreath that fades, and Fame A road to Melancholy, — The Mirage of a deathless name Mere dreams and idle folly ? 2l6 OMNIA SOMNIA. So be it ! Yet the vision comes Of effort not in vain, Of honest labour, happy homes ; — Nor shall the Muse complain, Tho' what we seek may ne'er be ours. If 'mid the toil and strife. And in the blossoming of our powers We find the crown of life. 217 THE NEW EPIPHANY. Awake, awake ! Nay, slumber not, nor sleep ! Forth from the dreamland and black dome of night, From chaos and thick darkness, from the deep Of formless being, comes a gracious light, Gilding the crystal seas, and casting round A golden glory on the enchanted ground ; — Awake, O souls of harmony, and ye That greet the day-spring with your jubilee Of lute and harp ! Awake, awake, and bring Your well-tuned cymbals, and go forth with glee, Go forth, and welcome the eternal king. Far o'er the hills have not the watchful sheep Espied their shepherd, and with eager flight Gone forth to meet him on the craggy steep ; Hasting the while his summoning notes invite 2l8 THE NEW EPIPHANY. Where riper grasses and green herbs abound : — But ye ! your shepherd calls, thrice-happy sound ! He comes, he comes, your shepherd-king, 'tis he ! Oh, quit these close-cropped meads, and gladly flee To him who makes once more new growths upspring ; Oh, quit your ancient glebes, — oh, joyfully Go forth, and welcome the eternal king. Too long ye till exhausted lands, and reap Thin crops that ne'er your weary toil requite : Too long your laggard oxen labouring creep Up the wide furrows, and full idly smite The weed-encircled ridge, the rocky mound : Will ye not quit these fields now barren found ? Ah, ye are old, yet not too old to be Brave travellers o'er bald custom's boundary ; — Then each, let each his robe around him fling, And with his little one, his child, set free. Go forth, and welcome the eternal king. See, on the strand, watching the waves that sweep Their creamy ripples up the sandy bight. Your child waits, leaping as the wavelets leap. THE NEW EPIPHANY. 219 The faery infant of the infinite ! Ah, happy child, with what new wonders crowned He'll turn to thee, to fathom and expound ; Asking, enquiring, looking unto thee To solve the universe, its destiny ; — And still unto thy vestment's hem will cling. Asking, enquiring, — whispering, ' May not we Go forth, and welcome the eternal king ? ' Oh, linger not ! No longer vainly weep O'er vanished hopes, but with new strength unite ; Oh, linger not ! But let your glad eyes keep Watch on this guiding star that beams so bright ; Around your brows be this phylacter bound, — ' Let Truth be king, and let his praise resound ! ' Oh, Unger not ! Let earth, and sky, and sea. To sound his praises let all hearts agree ! Still loud, and louder, let your paeans ring. Go forth, go forth, in glad exultancy Go forth, and welcome the eternal king. 220 GIOTTO'S TOWER. For Giotto's Tower, Well, half-an-hour Might suffice ; So walk around, And step the ground Twice or thrice ! 'Twas Florence raised it ; And Ruskin praised it — What, not nice ! Nay, if you doubt it. Say naught about it. Is my advice. FiRENzE, 1892. 221 THE FOES AT HOME. By Lodovico della Vernaccia. — a.d. 1200. If ye, O Citizens, the honoured theme Of our high purpose will now hold in view, Your comment on the text, is it not true, Will surely be that we as children seem ! Yet, if awhile ye do not idle deem Our strifes intestine to revolve anew, Methinks your heads ye'll bow with reverence due, Nor lightly all our thorny griefs esteem. What though now chastened be each foreign foe — His onset routed and his blood outpoured — Not therefore must the sword be laid aside. But 'gainst our foes at home must deal the blow. And in their traitorous blood once more be dyed : For only great and terrible is the sword ! 222 LA CONSTANTE SPERANZA. (From Fra Guittone d'Arezzo.) Ere now, a thousand times by Love distressed, I am constrained to do myself Death's wrong, Unable to withstand the rude and strong Unhallowed grief I feel within my breast : Well can you see with what despite possessed My heart is moved ; and how I haste along, And fain by cruel fate would join the throng That line death's shore, in search of joyful rest. But when upon Life's utmost verge I stand Your boundless pity holds me back and cries, ' Haste not your parting to that distant land ; Your youth, your faithfulness, rule otherwise.' Thus while to stay you pray me and command. For me I hope bliss in the future lies. 223 FROM LEONARDO DA VINCI. Who would, but cannot — what he can, should will ! 'Tis vain to will the thing we ne'er can do ; Therefore that man we deem the wisest, who Seeks not mere futile longing to fulfil. Our pleasure, as our pain, dependeth still On knowledge of will's power ; this doth imbue. With strength who yield to duty what is due. Nor reason wrest from her high domicile. Yet what thou canst not always shouldst thou will. Or gratified thy wish may cost a tear. And bitter prove what seemed most sweet to view : Last in thy heart this truth we would instil, — Wouldst thou to self be true, to others dear, Will to be able, what thou oughtst, to do. 224 SONNET BY RAPHAEL. ' Un pensier dolce erimembrare e godo Di quello assalto — ' How sweet the Memory when again I think Of that embrace, — how sweet the Joy ! Yet sad The grievous loss that I at parting had As sank my Star beneath the dark Sea's brink. Now breaking silence Truth I will not blink, But will confess how Love, a traitor chief. Then played me false to my own speechless grief; Tho' him I thank, nor from his praise would shrink. The sixth Hour was it, and the Sun had set, — And in its place another Orb arose ; A time for deeds methought, and not for speech ; Yet vanquished by the Fires that in me met, Voiceless I still remained unto the close ; Nor could with burning words my Love beseech. 225 r AMOUR FUGITIF. (From Philippe Desportes.) This little child, young Love so blind, His mother seeks him gone astray ; And as she seeks him she may find. Hid in my heart, the runaway. Betwixt the twain there 's to my mind No little danger in delay ; — The mother 's dangerous I've divined, And dangerous is the child they say. He, if retained, will scorch my heart, And if I bid him thence depart. He still to me will cruel prove : — Nay, in my heart. Child, shalt thou stay ; Yet closer would I fold thee. Love, So nestling burn less fierce, I pray. Q 226 TO THOMAS FARNABIE. (On Editing the Tragedies of Seneca.) From Hugo HoUandius. Life's mirror, and life's teacher, is the Stage, — And to the Stage hfe the Tragedian gives ;' Throned 'mid tragedians Seneca still lives. And thou, whose light here gleams upon his page. Each star pre-eminent, each classic sage, That shines supreme, from thee his light derives ; By thee restored, the Tragic Muse revives, — Whence may thy praise be sung from age to age. Nor Leyden nor let London claim, entailed For their sole heritage, thy treasured store, — Whiche'er thou choosest as thy home to be ; But read in every town for evermore, By slanderous tongues untouched, by none assailed, May Time's dread tyranny now yield to thee. 227 SIRMIO. ' Paeninsularum, Sirmio, insularumque ocelle.' Of all wave-cinctured lands the world can show, — Yea, of all fairest isles, though fair they be, — The fairest thou, in lake or that vast sea Which Neptune rules, — ' venusta Sirmio ' ! Nay, do we dream, forsooth, or is it so. That Thynia left, and left Bithynia, we Now fondly gaze, and gaze at last op thee, — On. thee, O fair, O fairest 'Sirmio ! i/ Ah, happy heart ! here restful will we lie, Without a care, without one cause for sigh ; Though travel-weary, home ! — and ere they know, ' Hail, hail, all hail ! ' we cry, with loving voice — ' And ye, ye Lydian waves, laugh and rejoice ! Once more thy master greets thee, Sirmio ! ' 228 THE WATERMAMMA. ' Throughout the whole of Guiana there is a superstitious dread of a strange being, the Watermamma, which like the Nippen of Norway, the Gnomes, Goblins, and other semi-spiritual beings of Europe, the Jinns of Asia, and the Jumbies of Africa, takes a demoni- acal delight in waylaying and murdering travellers. ' — Watbrton. This is the Watermamma, — fiend elect To scare stray wanderers through Guiana land ; Dread water-spirit, 'mid the reeds erect You may have seen him in the shadow stand : — The Watermamma, when the moon is fleck'd With hurtling clouds, stalks lone along the strand ; What is the Watermamma ? The defect Of those who see, but do not understand ! The Watermamma hath, (this all respect,) A multitude of names at his command ; Gnome, demon, gobhn, or jum-jum — reject His creed, a heretic thou shall be bann'd ! While Europe boasts Beelzebub, reflect, Guiana, too, should have a ghoul at hand. NOTES. Page 54. " Cynicht is one of the most attractive mountains in Wales. Beheld from the level ground of Traeth Mawr, between Beddgelert and Port Madoc, it rises direct from the vale to the summit, presenting the appearance of an im- mense cone.'' It is sometimes referred to as the Welsh Matterhom, but it is more secluded and less frequently visited than the Swiss mountain. In some respects, Cader Idris (the "Giant's Seat") is perhaps more attractive than Cynicht. Penmaen (or, as it is more usually named, Penmaen Pool) is situate about two miles from Dolgelly. Page 89. The first four lines of D. G. Rossetti's translation of this sonnet by Dante are as follows : " Two ladies to the summit of my mind Have clomb, to hold an argument of love ; The one has wisdom with her from above, For every noblest virtue well design'd ; " The expression " the summit of my mind " seems to have been taken by Rossetti from Lyell's blank verse rendering of the sonnet, published about fifty years ago, beginning — " Two ladies on the summit of my mind Their station take, to hold discourse of love." The third and fourth lines of the sonnet in the original are — " L'una ha in sS cortesia e valore, Prudenzia ed onestate 'n compagnia." Q 2 230 NOTES. Page 150. At the Synod held at Dort (Dordrecht) in 1618- 19 the leading Dutch theologians, together with delegates from Hesse, England, the Palatinate, Bremen, and Switzer- land, assembled to consider and decide the Quinquarticular Controversy, in which the disputants were the Calvinists (Gomarists) on the one hand, and the Arminians (Zwinglians) on the other. The disputation was carried on for nearly seven months, and the Arminians were eventually con- demned. The Calvinists were designated ' Gomarists,' after their leader, Francis Gomarus, the colleague, yet bitter opponent, of James Arminius, professor of theology at Leyden. They held that the greater part of the human race were excluded from divine 'grace,' whereas the Arminians embraced the Lutheran doctrine, which excluded no one absolutely from eternal salvation (see Mosheim's Hist., Bk. IV.). Page 152. Chiteau Freyr, formerly the ancestral seat of the Beaufort-Spontin family, is situate on the banks of the River Meuse between Dinant and Givet. Page 164. Matthew Arnold was burie4 at Laleham on the 19th April, 1888. Page 166. "How much more; useful, because more humble, the labour of great masters might have been, had they been content to bear record of the souls that were dwelling with them on earth, instead of striving to give a deceptive glory to those they dreamed of in heaven." — Ruskin (" Lectures-on Art," p. 17). Page 168 : "Bear ye the blame, as I will bear the pain." Such were the words addressed by Giordano Bruno to the judges who sentenced him to death in the Palace of San NOTES. 231 Severino at Rome on the 9th February, a.d. 1600. The following is an account of his execution : "The 17th February dawns, and the day of his death is here. To the Champ de Flore they take him, through a howling, fanatic crowd, composed, in great part, of pilgrims ; they have clad him in the sulphur-coloured garb of heresy, hideous with pictured devils and flames and crosses, but the dress cannot mar his grandeur of dignity as he walks calmly on, his eye bright, his forehead serene, his step firm and steady ; a priest pushes forward, and presses on him a cruci- fix, but Bruno will not touch it ; they bind him to the stake, and no word opens his lips ; the flames rise around him, but no cry escapes him : to the end he is as serene as though he felt no agony, and the last glimpse the crowd catches of his face ere the flame sears it, shows it calmly proud as ever ; and now the smoke and the fire surround him, and Giordano Bruno is gone for evermore. They scatter his ashes to the wind, and boast that nothing is left of Bruno save the remem- brance of his execution, and they forbid any to read his books, and fondly dream that they have slain his memory. But now, in Rome, Bruno's memory lives, while that of his murderers only remains because their names are linked with his im- mortality, and on the base of the statue we are raising to him might fitly be engraven his own sublime words : 'To knpw how to die in one century is to live for all centuries to come.' " Page 183. Those who have walked by the mountain route from Grenoble to the Grande Chartreuse will remember passing the little village of Le Sappey, with the adjacent mountain of Chamacaude, after some seven miles of their journey were accomplished. 232 NOTES. Page 222. Fra Guittone d'Arezzo was one of the epliest Italian sonneteers, and flourished in the middle of the thirteenth century. The following is the text of his poem ; " Gia mille volte quando Amor m'hai stretto lo son corso per darmi ultima morte ; Non possendo restare al aspro e forte &mpio Dolor ch'io sento dentro al petto, Voi veder lo potete, qual dispetto Ha lo mio cor, e quanto k crudel sorte Ratto, son corso gik, sino alle parte Dell' aspra morte, per cercar diletto. Ma quando io son per gire dall' altra vita Vostra immensa Pieti me tiene, e dice, ' Non affrettar I'immatura partita ; La verde Eti, tua Fedelta, il disdice ; ' E k restar di qui mi prega, e invita ; Si ch'io spera col tempo esser felice," Page 223. This sonnet was attributed to Leonardo da Vinci in 1584 by Lomazzo, but it has since been attributed to various other authors, and Sig. G. Uzielli, in the journal " II Buonarroti," published in Rome, has recently affirmed that it must have been written some fifty years before the date of Leonardo. If such be really the case, it would be interesting to know how the sonnet came to be attributed to the great painter. If Leonardo had been a poet it would not have been surprising that he should have been accredited with a com- position that did not belong to him, but as he was not, Lomazzo must, one would imagine, have had some reason for believing that the sonnet was his work. Page 226. This unique Latin sonnet by Hugo HoUandius is printed at the beginning of Thomas Farnabie's edition of the " Tragedies of Seneca," published at Leyden and London NOTES. 233 in 1624. The following is an exact copy of the original : " Literatissimo, amicissimo, candidissimoque pectori, Thomae Famabio, sonulum hendeca-syllabicum sacro." ' ' Vitae Scena magistra singularis, Scenae vita Tragaedus ; in tragaedis Lux primae Seneca est suprema sedis ; Qua TV lux Senecae simul locaris. Das Stellis supereminere Claris, Tanquam ardentibus undecunque tedis, Et mendis Tragioi medere foedis ; Nostris unde nepotibus canarig. Lugdunum n6q ; te mod6 Batavis, Londinumve suis legat Britannis, Urbem Aeternus utram tenere mavis ; Cunctis quin legitor locis & annis ; Nee Unguis hominum ferire