m 
 
A-/ii/ifl 
 
 _t>IHi*VL 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013537992 
 
WORKS BY <Q' 
 
 DEAD MAN S ROCK 
 
 TROY TOWN 
 
 THE SPLENDID SPUR 
 
 NOUGHTS AND CROSSES 
 
 THE BLUE PAVILIONS 
 j 
 
 I SAW THREE SHIPS 
 
 THE WARWICKSHIRE AVON 
 
 THE DELECTABLE DUCHY 
 
 GREEN BAYS : VERSES AND PARODIES 
 
 THE GOLDEN POMP 
 
 WANDERING HEATH 
 
 IA 
 
 ADVENTURES IN CRITICISM 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
POEMS 
 AND BALLADS BY 
 
 Q 
 
 lktMwu\ l^nwcw O^uiAin ^trxc'ki 
 
 LONDON 
 METHUEN AND CO. 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET 
 1896 
 
A.iakio-a 
 
 Several of the numbers in this volume have made their first 
 appearance elsewhere ; some in The Speaker, others in The Pall Mall 
 Magazine, others in certain works of fiction published by Messrs. 
 Cassell and Company. Two — The Splendid Spur and The White 
 Moth — I have taken leave to reprint from a previous volume of verse 
 (Green Bays: Verses and Parodies, 1893), and set here in more suit- 
 able company. I here acknowledge my indebtedness to the editors 
 and publishers concerned. Q. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 UPON NEW YEARS EVE, 
 
 SABINA, .... 
 
 DOOM PERRY, 
 
 A HOUSEKEEPING, 
 
 SHADOWS, .... 
 
 THE MASQUER IN THE STREET, 
 
 DOLOR OOOO, 
 
 ODE UPON ECKINGTON BRIDGE, RIVER 
 
 ISLES OP SCILLY, 
 
 ' VICTORIA,' 
 
 THE SPLENDID SPUR, 
 
 THE COMRADE, . 
 
 THE CAPTAIN, . 
 
 COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE, 
 
 THE WHITE MOTH, 
 
 PREMONITION, . 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 4 
 9 
 
 12 
 
 18 
 19 
 
 23 
 
 27 
 3° 
 3i 
 36 
 38 
 43 
 45 
 7i 
 73 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SONG — ' HELFORD RIVER,' . 
 
 74 
 
 'to the land where ye go,' . 
 
 . . 76 
 
 TO BEARERS, .... 
 
 78 
 
 THE GENTLE SAVAGE, . 
 
 80 
 
 THE PLANTED HEEL, . 
 
 . 84 
 
 la's SONG, .... 
 
 88 
 
 a fiddler's VALENTINE, 
 
 90 
 
 THE KERCHIEF, 
 
 91 
 
 LOVE SEQUESTERED, . 
 
 92 
 
 THE LEAST OF THESE, 
 
 93 
 
 CAROL, ... 
 
 95 
 
 CHILD'S CAROL, . 
 
 97 
 
 HOLY INNOCENTS, 
 
 100 
 
 JETSOM, ... 
 
 101 
 
 THE BIG REVIEW, 
 
 112 
 
 l'envoi, 
 
 115 
 
 NOTES, ... 
 
 117 
 
UPON NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 Now winds of winter glue 
 Their tears upon the thorn, 
 
 And earth has voices few, 
 And those forlorn. 
 
 And 'tis our solemn night 
 
 When maidens sand the porch, 
 
 And play at Jack's Alight 
 With burning torch, 
 
 Or cards, or Kiss i' the Ring — 
 While ashen fagots blaze, 
 
 And late wassailers sing 
 In miry ways. 
 
 A I 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Then, dear my wife, be blithe 
 To bid the New Year hail, 
 
 And welcome — plough, drill, scythe, 
 And jolly flail. 
 
 For though the snows he '11 shake 
 
 Of winter from his head, 
 To settle, flake by flake, 
 
 On ours instead ; 
 
 Yet we be wreathed green 
 Beyond his blight or chill, 
 
 Who kissed at seventeen, 
 And worship still. 
 
 We know not what he '11 bring : 
 But this we know to-night — 
 
 He doth prepare the Spring 
 For our delight. 
 
 2 
 
UPON NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 With birds he '11 comfort us, 
 With blossoms, balms, and bees, 
 
 With brooks, and odorous 
 Wild breath o' the breeze. 
 
 Come then, O festal prime ! 
 
 With sweets thy bosom fill, 
 And dance it, dripping thyme, 
 
 On Lantick hill. 
 
 West wind, awake ! and comb 
 Our garden, blade from blade — 
 
 We, in our little home, 
 Sit unafraid. 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 SABINA 
 
 The stair was steep ; the Tower was tall ; 
 
 Sabina's strength was gone : 
 She leaned a hand against the wall, 
 
 And let her boy run on. 
 
 High in the blue the Old Tower swayed 
 His bells to the sunset breeze : 
 
 But ever like hemlock climbed the shade 
 Of earth on his earth-hewn knees. 
 
 The Widow watched the red sun's glow 
 Steal up by the window's edge ; 
 
 She saw the darkened green below, 
 And the wan sheep by the hedge. 
 
 4 
 
SABINA 
 
 1 Child ! Child ! ' she called, and ' Wait for me ! ' 
 
 But ever the boy's feet ran ; 
 And up through the Whisp'ring Gallery 
 
 Came the voice of her dead man — 
 
 ' He will not turn for any prayer, 
 
 Nor pause for any tear : 
 The winds of God harp down the stair, 
 
 Their pinnacle notes ring clear.' 
 
 She said, ' My pulse runs low and low : 
 
 He has leapt inside of me. 
 Blood of my blood, shall he not know 
 
 My blood's necessity ? ' 
 
 The dead man said, ' He will not wait. 
 
 High in a naked room 
 A maiden listens, strong as fate, 
 
 And selfish as the tomb. 
 
 5 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' Her sisters, as they cross the floor, 
 
 Throw glances at the clock : 
 Her father fumbles with the door, 
 
 He knows he may not lock : 
 
 ' Her mother pins the bridal crown, 
 And pricks her trembling thumbs : 
 
 But the bride has laid her mirror down, 
 Her small foot drums and drums. 
 
 ' A minute — hark ! Ah joy, ah joy ! 
 
 The helpless door falls wide, 
 The harp of God and the laugh of a boy 
 
 Sing aubade to the bride. 
 
 ' The bride she rises from her chair- 
 Now never stretch your hands ! 
 
 The harp, the voice, the climbing stair — 
 Naught else she understands. 
 
 6 
 
SABINA 
 
 ' Follow the harp, take hands and run ! 
 
 High on the shining leads, 
 Or ever a midsummer night's begun 
 The swallow twitters her orison 
 
 By the granite martyrs' heads ! ' 
 
 ' Dead man, we too have kissed and climbed. 
 
 Inert you moulder there, 
 And here I fail and flutter, limed 
 
 Fast on the middle stair. 
 
 ' Sure as upon the still-drawn east 
 
 The evening arch invades ; 
 Sure as we hold a green earth leased 
 
 Briefly between two shades ; 
 
 They will not reach,' 
 
 ' But they will run, 
 And hand in hand admire 
 Through loftier panes an ampler sun, 
 List a diviner choir : 
 7 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' Other horizons, widening slopes — 
 
 Yet not a blossom there 
 But gat its increase from the hopes 
 
 We two were used to share ! 
 
 ' Woman, consign you with the years ; 
 
 Consign and follow me. 
 What though the sun shine on our tears, 
 
 If he the rainbow see ? ' 
 
 The stair was steep ; the Tower was tall ; 
 
 Sabina's strength was gone: 
 She bowed her face unto the wall, 
 
 And let her boy run on. 
 
DOOM FERRY 
 
 DOOM FERRY 
 
 Boatman, have they crossed ? 'Not all : 
 The inn, there, hath an upper chamber, 
 
 And a window in the wall 
 
 Where the small white roses clamber. 
 
 ' Many shelves run round the room ; 
 
 On a shelf, and no man near them, 
 Two are talking low i' the gloom — 
 
 From the trellis' foot may'st hear them.' 
 
 Who are they ? ' At dawn they came 
 
 By the Passage, calling Over ! 
 She the corpse of a comely dame, 
 
 And the man, methinks, her lover.' 
 
 9 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Boatman, land and climb the stair : 
 By the scented window-boxes 
 
 Lower me that loving pair 
 
 Here among the crimson phloxes. 
 
 Boatman, is this honey-dew 
 
 Dripping from the window-boxes ? 
 Nay, I cannot tell its hue 
 
 Here against the crimson phloxes. 
 
 Take a guinea and a groat : 
 
 One in ale shall keep thee merry ; 
 Let the other fee the boat 
 
 Tiding these across the ferry. 
 
 Take this purse : it shall persuade 
 Him who digs i' th' acre yonder 
 
 Them to bed with a cunning spade 
 Cheek by jowl, no turtles fonder. 
 
DOOM FERRY 
 
 Cheek by jowl, and heart by heart, 
 
 But a thought in either buried, 
 That shall push them wide apart — 
 
 Wide enough ere a third be ferried. 
 
 So, between, my body 1 '11 thrust, 
 
 Laughing, straightening out my knees there, 
 Either hand in a little dust 
 
 Dabbling, at my cool dead ease there. 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 A HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 Surprised by young desire, as by the dawn, 
 
 A young Orion, wildered, half awake, 
 Bedraggled, drenched in woodland ways withdrawn, 
 My heart, a-tiptoe by a dewy brake, 
 
 Spied the gods sleeping — vision of green lawn, 
 Pale ivory limbs, pillows of dappled fawn, 
 And a great quiet, and a stilly lake. 
 
 There the long grasses topped a banquet spread 
 
 — For that the turf had been their only table — 
 With cates and fruit and delicate white bread, 
 Roses a-float in craters carved with fable. 
 There droop'd a wreath from each relaxed head, 
 And there on garland and on god were shed 
 The coverlet of years innumerable. 
 12 
 
A HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 They perish not, beneath the secular oak — 
 
 Olympian Jove and all his greenwood train : 
 
 And yet no breath heaves any purple cloak ; 
 
 Yet the thin leaves list on their lips in vain ; 
 
 In vain the veils of morning, like a smoke, 
 
 Shake with the spiral lark. Be whist, invoke — 
 
 They perish not, yet will not live again. 
 
 Anon upon that lake a shudder swept, 
 
 And therewithal a feeble childish wail ; 
 And lo ! a naked winged babe that stepped 
 Shoreward atween the weed and galingale, 
 
 And sought the whitest queen of all, and crept 
 Close to her side, and clapped her cheek, and wept, 
 And coaxed her ear with many an elfin tale. 
 
 ' Mother, awake ! The Western Wind arrives ! 
 
 Down the long gulf he breaks a wavering stair 
 For Phoebus' gilded feet, and shoreward drives, 
 *3 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 And sings across the meadows, debonair, 
 
 Pelting the Heaven with dust of golden hives, 
 Blown saffron bloom, and small birds with their 
 wives, 
 And happiness in handfuls everywhere. 
 
 ' Late as I couched high on the Latmian cliff, 
 
 I heard the red pine whisper wakefully ; 
 I saw the pasturing brood-mare pause and sniff 
 The salt newcomer ; and with mainsail free 
 
 A helmsman hailed me from his bobbing skiff — 
 ' Praise the West Wind ! ' How shall I praise 
 him, if, 
 If, Cytherea, he awake not thee ? 
 
 ' He may adorn the day ; but ah ! the dark— 
 
 The dark destroys me ! When the shepherds fold 
 
 And hie them, each to his confederate spark, 
 His window lit, his beacon on the wold, 
 
 14 
 
A HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 Then lie they warm. Bat me the house-dog's bark 
 Drives houseless, quaking through the midnight 
 park : 
 All creatures love, but Love himself 's a-cold ! ' 
 
 Thereat I stepped and gently him bespake — 
 
 ' Dear child, my cottage hath an empty room, 
 A flask of thin wine and an oaten cake. 
 
 She, an she wake, will thank me — She, for whom 
 Kings left their loves, them blithely to betake 
 To war, the while that for her lovely sake 
 
 Wild War himself laid by his lance and plume.' 
 
 Then first he started back a little space ; 
 
 But after came and laid a hand in mine, 
 As glad of one that spake his mother's praise. 
 So forth we fared : and happy our design, 
 
 Till thou cam'st fluttering through the forest ways, 
 Thou, with the woodland sunburn on thy face, 
 Thou, in green kirtle pinned with eglantine. 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' Hillo ! ' criedst thou, ' what darling leadest there ? 
 Come, pretty chuck ! ' — and heaped him kiss on 
 kiss. 
 ' An orphan ? Save thee from his mannish care ! 
 Fond foundling, say, what do men know of this ? ' 
 * But he is mine/ said I ; ' unless thou share — ' 
 ' If thou,' she falter'd, ' hast but room to spare — ' 
 Fool, fool, fool heart ! sub-letting so thy bliss ! 
 
 Thenceforward for a month, as shines in Lent 
 The mead with daffodils, my cottage shone 
 With days and nights-made-noonday, being spent 
 In serving him that first had made us one. 
 And then, as droop in April's discontent 
 Those daffodils, thy will declined, and went 
 Forth from my door, leaving us there alone. 
 
 Ah, had we never met — or, having met, 
 Had I been wiser or thy heart less wild ! 
 16 
 
A HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 For, wanting thee, at first he 'gan to fret, 
 And then to hunger as a weaning child : 
 
 And perished, wanting thee. And yet — and yet — 
 Hadst thou but turned or showed the least regret, 
 How had he waked, and stretched his arms, 
 and smiled ! 
 
 17 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 SHADOWS 
 
 As I walked out on Hallows' E'en, 
 I saw the moon swing thin and green ; 
 I saw beside, in Fiddler's Wynd, 
 Two hands that moved upon a blind. 
 
 As I walked out on Martin's Feast, 
 
 I heard a woman say to a priest — 
 
 < His grave is digged, his shroud is sewn ; 
 
 And the child shall pass for his very own.' 
 
 But whiles they stood beside his tomb, 
 I heard the babe laugh out in her womb — 
 ' My hair will be black as his was red, 
 And I have a mole where his heart bled.' 
 
 18 
 
THE MASQUER IN THE STREET 
 
 THE MASQUER IN THE STREET 
 
 Masquer on the rainy stones, 
 
 Jigging, twirling 'neath the rain, 
 Wherefore shake thine aged bones 
 
 To that antique strain ? 
 
 Limp thy locks and lank and thinned, 
 
 Thy grey beard it floats a yard ; 
 
 And thy coat tails flap i' the wind 
 
 Like a torn placard. 
 
 ; Hush ! ' saith he ; * there was a House— 
 
 From its porch the cressets flared ; 
 Lads in livery called " Carouse ! 
 
 For thy lust 's prepared ! " 
 19 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' Like a snake the prelude wound — 
 
 Crash ! the merry waltz began : 
 One unto my mind I found, 
 
 And our feet ran. 
 
 ' Rubies ripped from altar-cloths 
 Leered adown her silk attire ; 
 Her mad shoes were scarlet moths 
 In a rose of fire. 
 
 ' Tropic scents her tresses weaved — 
 
 Scents to lay the soul a-swoon ; 
 On her breast the draperies heaved 
 
 Like clouds by the moon. 
 
 ' Back she bent her throat, her wet 
 
 Southern lips, and dared, and dared — 
 Over them my kisses met, 
 
 While the saxe-horn blared. 
 
 20 
 
THE MASQUER IN THE STREET 
 
 ' Crash ! the brassy cymbal smote — 
 
 When I would have stayed our feet, 
 Laughter rippled all her throat 
 
 Like a wind on wheat. 
 
 ' Every laugh it left a crease, 
 
 Every ripple wrote her old — 
 Yet her arms would not release, 
 
 Nor her feet with-hold. 
 
 ' Ah ! to watch it suck and sag — 
 
 Rosy flesh 'had breathed so warm — 
 Till I twirled a loveless hag 
 
 On a tortured arm ! 
 
 ' Dancers, resting for a while 
 
 Down the wall with faces white, 
 Watched us waltzing, mile on mile, 
 In a horror of light ! ' 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Masquer on the rainy stones, 
 
 What is that thy fingers fold ? 
 ' Dead or dying, naught atones 
 
 But I dance and hold. 
 
 ' Crash ! the maddened cymbal smote — 
 Are they minutes ? Are they years, 
 That I hold but dust to my coat 
 
 And a few gold hairs ? ' 
 
 Masquer in the rainy close, 
 
 God thee pity and thy bone ! 
 Other men have danced with those, 
 And now dance alone. 
 
DOLOR OOGO 
 
 DOLOR' OOGO 
 
 Thirteen men by Ruan Shore, 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogi 
 Drowned men since 'eighty-four, 
 Down in Dolor Oogo : 
 On the cliff against the sky, 
 Ailsa, wife of Malachi — 
 
 That cold woman — 
 Sits and knits eternally. 
 
 By her silent husband's side 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo — 
 Stretched awake, she hears the tide 
 
 Moan in Dolor Oogo : 
 23 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Till athwart the easter gale 
 Hark ! the merry dead men hail- 
 
 'Thou cold woman, 
 Take the lantern from the nail ! ' 
 
 Rising in her chilly sark 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo- 
 Forth she fares by Behan Pare, 
 Out to Dolor Oogo : 
 Kneeling there above the brink, 
 Lets her long red tresses sink 
 — That cold woman — 
 For the sailor men to drink. 
 
 Then the sailor men beneath 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo— 
 
 Take the ends between their teeth, 
 Deep in Dolor Oogo. 
 
 24 
 
DOLOR OOGO 
 
 ' Lusty blood is this to quaff : 
 (So the merry dead men laugh) 
 
 O, cold woman, 
 Hath thy man as good by half ? ' 
 
 ' Drowned men by Ruan Shore 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo — 
 Lost aboard the Elsinore 
 
 Down by Dolor Oogo — 
 If the gulls behind the share 
 Yesterday had called " Beware, 
 
 Thy cold woman !" 
 Paler now had been my hair. 
 
 ' Socks I knit you each a pair 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo — 
 Half of yarn and half of hair, 
 
 Over Dolor Oogo.' 
 
 25 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' Dripping, dripping on the tide, 
 What red dye thy hair hath dyed, 
 
 Thou cold woman ? ' 
 ' It hath brushed upon his side.' 
 
 Knitting with her double thread 
 
 — Dolor Oogo, Dolor Oogo — 
 Half of black and half of red — 
 Over Dolor Oogo, 
 On the cliff against the sky, 
 Ailsa, wife of Malachi, 
 
 That cold woman, 
 Wipes her hands incessantly. 
 
 26 
 
UPON ECKINGTON BRIDGE, RIVER AVON 
 
 ODE 
 
 UPON ECKINGTON BRIDGE, RIVER AVON 
 
 O pastoral heart of England ! like a psalm 
 Of green days telling with a quiet beat — 
 O wave into the sunset flowing calm ! 
 
 O tired lark descending on the wheat ! 
 Lies it all peace beyond that western fold 
 
 Where now the lingering shepherd sees his star 
 Rise upon Malvern ? Paints an Age of Gold 
 Yon cloud with prophecies of linked ease — 
 Lulling this Land, with hills drawn up like knees, 
 To drowse beside her implements of war ? 
 27 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ii 
 
 Man shall outlast his battles. They have swept 
 
 Avon from Naseby Field to Severn Ham ; 
 And Evesham's dedicated stones have stepped 
 
 Down to the dust with Montfort's oriflamme. 
 Nor the red tear nor the reflected tower 
 
 Abides ; but yet these eloquent grooves remain 
 Worn in the sandstone parapet hour by hour 
 
 By labouring bargemen where they shifted ropes. 
 E'en so shall man turn back from violent hopes 
 
 To Adam's cheer, and toil with spade again. 
 
 Ay, and his mother Nature, to whose lap 
 Like a repentant child at length he hies, 
 
 Not in the whirlwind or the thunder-clap 
 Proclaims her more tremendous mysteries : 
 
 But when in winter's grave, bereft of light, 
 28 
 
UPON ECKINGTON BRIDGE, RIVER AVON 
 
 With still, small voice divinelier whispering 
 — Lifting the green head of the aconite, 
 Feeding with sap of hope the hazel-shoot — 
 She feels God's finger active at the root, 
 Turns in her sleep, and murmurs of the Spring. 
 
 29 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 SONNET 
 
 ISLES OF SCILLY 
 
 I saw Narcissus in a portico 
 
 Leaning his ear toward the yellow bells 
 
 Of his own flower, festooned, that from the shells 
 
 Voluted, on the pavement, caught the low 
 
 Long echoes of an Archipelago 
 Afar, beyond the pillared parallels 
 Wherein a soft wind wound, and nothing else, 
 
 Between his shoulder and the afterglow. 
 
 Figure of bronze ! Thou listenest alway : 
 Ever for thee that lazy song beguiles. 
 
 But I must wake, and toil again, and pray ; 
 And yet will come but rarely, and at whiles, 
 
 The shout and vision of the sea-gods grey, 
 Stampeding by of the lone Scillonian isles. 
 3° 
 
VICTORIA 
 
 VICTORIA 
 
 (June 22nd, 1 893) 
 
 ' There was absolutely no panic, no shouting, no rushing aimlessly 
 about. The officers went quietly to their stations. Everything was 
 prepared, and the men were all in their positions. ... I can further 
 testify to the men below in the engine-rooms. ... In all the details 
 of this terrible accident one spot especially stands out, and that is the 
 heroic conduct of those who to the end remained below, stolidly yet 
 boldly, at their place of duty.'— Captain Bourke's Statement. 
 
 Queen ! What is this that comes 
 Borne on thy rolling drums 
 At sunrise from the far 
 Syrian borders ? 
 — Sped from the flags that fly 
 Half-mast at Tripoli, 
 Where float the ships of war, 
 Thy virgin warders ? 
 3i 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Where tarries she who should 
 Captain that sisterhood, 
 
 Named with thy name, and own 
 Offspring of Victory ? 
 Deep, eighty fathoms deep, 
 She, with her crew asleep, 
 Recks not the signal flown, 
 Vain, valedictory. 
 
 Not in Thy day of wrath, 
 Lord God of Sabaoth, 
 Nor upon rock or sand 
 
 Hemmed with Thy breath round ; 
 But leading tranquilly 
 Upon a tranquil sea, 
 Swift at a sister's hand 
 
 Took she her death-wound. 
 32 
 
VICTORIA 
 
 Launched on the fatal curve. 
 Too late to stay or swerve, 
 Starkly the Camperdown 
 
 Rounded, descended, 
 Struck — saw, and backward reeled, 
 As he who on the field 
 By Oxus smote his own 
 
 Sohrab, the splendid. 
 
 But She, the stricken hull, 
 
 The doomed, the beautiful, 
 
 Proudly to fate abased 
 
 Her brow Titanic. 
 Praise now her multitude 
 Who, nursed in fortitude, 
 Fell in on deck and faced 
 Death without panic. 
 
 C 33 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Heaven, that to admirals. 
 Assigns their funerals, 
 
 To some the battle's ridge 
 
 Full-starred, to die on — 
 Took not the spirit proud 
 From him she less allowed. 
 — Calm, cool, upon the bridge, 
 Sank the brave Tryon ! 
 
 Now for the seamen whom 
 Thy not degenerate womb 
 Gave thus to die for thee, 
 
 England, be tearless : 
 Rise, and with front serene 
 Answer, thou Spartan queen, 
 ' Still God is good to me : 
 
 My sons are fearless.' 
 34 
 
VICTORIA 
 
 Back to the flags that fly 
 Half-mast at Tripoli, 
 Back on the sullen drum 
 Mourning Victoria, 
 Loud, ay, and jubilant, 
 Hurl thine imperial chant — 
 ' In morte talium 
 
 Stat Matris gloria ! 
 
 35 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 THE SPLENDID SPUR 
 
 Not on the neck of prince or hound, 
 
 Nor on a woman's finger twined, 
 May gold from the deriding ground 
 Keep sacred that we sacred bind : 
 Only the heel 
 Of splendid steel 
 Shall stand secure on sliding fate, 
 When golden navies weep their freight. 
 
 36 
 
THE SPLENDID SPUR 
 
 The scarlet hat, the laurelled stave, 
 
 Are measures, not the springs of worth ; 
 In a wife's lap, as in a grave, 
 
 Man's airy notions mix with earth. 
 Seek other spur 
 Bravely to stir 
 The dust in this loud world, and tread 
 An Alp among the whisp'ring dead. 
 
 Trust in thyself, — then spur amain : 
 So shall Charybdis wear a grace, 
 Grim /Etna laugh, the Libyan plain 
 Take roses to her shrivelled face. 
 This orb — this round 
 Of sight and sound — 
 Count it the lists that God hath built 
 For haughty hearts to ride a-tilt. 
 
 37 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 THE COMRADE 
 
 Stranger by the tavern board, 
 
 Brown man with the splendid eyne, 
 
 Thou and I make no accord 
 Till thou give the countersign 
 Here, across the Rhenish wine. 
 
 I had word in Trebizond 
 Of thy favours to my blood, 
 
 Of my father's cancelled bond, 
 Why his widow lacked not food : 
 Truly 1 believe thee good. 
 
 Well I know my mother's lips 
 Called thee kinder than her Own 
 
 In those months my wandered ships, 
 Fouler than this red beard grown, 
 Wallowed in a raving zone. 
 38 
 
THE COMRADE 
 
 'Needs no token round thy neck ! — 
 Over desert's dusky white, 
 
 When the frosted quarter-deck 
 Shivered back the Northern Light 
 Through the aching Arctic night ; 
 
 By the coral-locked lagoon, 
 While upon the seamless blue 
 
 Like a silver clasp, the moon 
 
 Drew the gauzed night, wherethrough 
 Her two horns dripped honey-dew ; 
 
 Thine the face that, first and last, 
 Haunted me. For thee I scanned 
 
 Passing deck and distant mast, 
 Peep of dawn and lift of land. 
 Now we meet — hold back thy hand ! 
 
 i 
 Though thou smilest by the board, 
 
 And our fingers itch to twine, 
 
 39 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Thou and I make no accord 
 Till I have the countersign 
 Here, across the Rhenish wine. 
 
 He that loves but half of Earth 
 Loves but half enough for me. 
 
 Succourer of starving Worth, 
 Say, but could thy Charity 
 Stoop as pitiful a knee, 
 
 Hold as equable a torch 
 
 O'er the hell that sinners tread ? 
 
 Tenderly, in windy porch, 
 
 Lift the drooping harlot's head, 
 As the good man's in his bed ? 
 
 Earth, that built our jolly bones, — 
 
 Earth, that brewed our jovial blood,- 
 In each atom of us owns 
 
 40 
 
THE COMRADE 
 
 Spark of filial fire that should 
 Quicken to the parent mood. 
 
 Here, astride the paps of Earth, 
 With the wind upon thy face, 
 
 Canst resound thy mother's mirth, 
 Catch a breath and say a grace 
 For the glory of the pace ? — 
 
 Thankful for thy privilege 
 
 In the hunter's gallant stride, 
 
 In the glancing rapid's edge, 
 In the waters that divide 
 To thy nimble, naked pride ; 
 
 Thankful for the climber's heel 
 Fast above the smooth ravine, 
 
 For the hand-shake of the wheel, 
 When the giddy royals lean 
 And the forefoot treads it green ; 
 
 4i 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 For the sleep of tired limbs, 
 For the taste of meat and wine, 
 
 For the merry laugh that brims 
 Labour as with a froth divine ; — 
 Pledge me this, and I am thine. 
 
 Then to horse ! — the gates are wide. 
 Host, a cup before we go ! 
 
 He and I are pledged to ride 
 Till the gust of onset blow 
 Dead the failing spark ; and so,— 
 
 Having reached, or failed to reach, 
 In no Abbey will we lie, 
 
 But upon a league-long beach 
 Find the braver cemet'ry, 
 Sweetened by the wave and sky. 
 
 42 
 
THE CAPTAIN 
 
 THE CAPTAIN 
 
 There is a captain that commands, 
 
 And never but to victory : 
 ' The counsel of thine heart it stands, 
 No man so faithful unto thee.' 
 
 Though seven senses watch the wall, 
 And all thy courage leap at call, 
 He is thine ark and arsenal. 
 Thine armour and artillery. 
 
 Yea, while the cloaked sentries tramp 
 And challenge with a deep ' All 's well ! ' 
 
 He lists the sappers from the camp 
 Encroaching on thy citadel ; 
 43 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Invisible he tries the guns, 
 And leaning o'er the bastions 
 Discerns the tented legions, 
 
 Earthwork and trench and parallel. 
 
 O man ! in vain they creep and mine ; 
 
 Thy ramp remains inviolate. 
 But if by folly or design 
 
 Thou force thy friend to abdicate, 
 A broken pole, a trodden keep, 
 The standard of thy soul shall weep, 
 And all her trophies lie a heap 
 That owls and satyrs desecrate. 
 
 44 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Dear son, Diego, I am old and deaf: 
 Here to my room in Seville some one came 
 — To-day or yesterday, who knows ? The blinds 
 Are closed, and no sun moves upon the floor — 
 Here to my room in Seville some one came 
 And muttered that the queen is dead. I trust 
 She rests in glory, far from all the cares 
 Of this rough world she made less penible 
 For two much-travelled feet that here inert 
 Wait by the ripple of the Blessed Ford, 
 Yet may not to its running cool unlace 
 Until my Master give the happy word. 
 
 I have been loyal : flouted for a fool, 
 I have been loyal : lifted above lords, 
 
 45 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 I have been loyal : once again abased, 
 Beggared and led a prisoner in chains, 
 I have been loyal still. But I believe 
 God sets on kings His sigil for a test, 
 And only they who bear it to His bourne 
 By widows' tears uncancelled, without scratch 
 Of fetters wrongfully imposed, undimmed 
 By sighs of just petitioners, may claim 
 To hear their charter yonder reconfirmed. 
 Who fails — his province shall another take, 
 One chosen from the spirits of just men 
 Made perfect. And his own debt shall every one 
 Here or hereafter, soon or late, redeem. 
 Who plights his dignity against a debt, 
 As Ferdinand ; who thus evades a debt, 
 As Ferdinand, and forfeits faith of man ; 
 Shall find that faith confront him by the Throne 
 In angels' blushes, and his honours melt 
 For payment in their slow celestial scorn. 
 46 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 But she, my Mistress, diadem of all 
 His dignity, was never Ferdinand's. 
 Born of that royal few who ride abroad 
 And see their humbler, happier sisters throw 
 Free glances from their windows on the street ; 
 Or by the bridge or by the bathing-pool 
 Passing with nun-like faces, catch a hint 
 And bear it home and wonder all the night 
 Stretched by their lords, listing the serena e 
 That well by distant balconies passionate ; 
 She — though her priestess' body she abased 
 Coldly to public need — lent it to wed 
 Castille with Aragon — was dedicate 
 To none but duty. On this earth she knew 
 No passion but a friendship purified, 
 Unspotted of the flesh, prophetical 
 Of that sublimer passion of the saints 
 Her innocence now inherits. — Not for me ! 
 As not for Ferdinand ! But this I hope, 
 47 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 To meet her walking 'neath the boughs of Life, 
 
 To touch her hand without servility, 
 
 And in the salutation of her eyes 
 
 Read resolution of the musing care 
 
 That clouded them aforetime, half with doubt 
 
 And half with pitiful knowledge. 
 
 Oh, they swept 
 Down from the dais eloquent, wave on wave 
 In every wave brooded a starry thought ; 
 In every thought brooded a litten tongue, 
 Holy, with comfortable words. And yet 
 I have looked into them as a mother looks, 
 And in the iris of her week-old babe 
 Reads now but natal innocence, and now 
 The absorbed wisdom of an age-worn past 
 Blinking its own new dawn. They did allow 
 The wonder of man's weakness, even while 
 They pierced unto his greatness and the hope 
 48 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Natheless at first I did believe her cold 
 — Jesu ! She cold ! — cold as the iced rim 
 'Engaged my hot heart there by Pinos bridge. 
 Tight-corded as my holster was the bale, 
 The slender bale of hope I carried then, 
 If somewhere I might find the world so wide 
 As to contain one courage bold to mate 
 With me to push it wider — wide enough 
 To satisfy the more adventurous clans 
 Yet in the womb waiting the moment's call. 
 For Portugal had cheated, England sent 
 No word, and of Bartholomew no report 
 Came on the bearded lips of them who drew 
 Forth from the northern fogs in caravel, 
 Galley or barque or pinnace. Day by day 
 For two long years, seated among my books, 
 Maps, charts, and cross-staves, in the little shop 
 By Seville bridge, incessant I had watched 
 The Guadalquiver through a dusty pane ; 
 D 49 
 
TOEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Had watched the thin mast creep around the point ; 
 Had watched the slow hull warp across the tide, 
 And the long flank fall lazy to the quay 
 — Levantine traders bringing Tyrian wine, 
 Malmsey from Crete, fine lawn of Cyprus, silk 
 Of Egypt and of India. Genovese, 
 Whose sheer I conned and knew the shipwright's name, 
 — Feluccas, with a world of eastern spice 
 Bartered of Caspian merchants on the bar 
 Of Poti, or of Emosaid clans 
 Down the Red Sea and south to Mozambique : 
 True aloes of Socotra, galbanum, 
 Myrrh, cassia, rhubarb, scented calamus, 
 Sweet storax, cinnamon, attars of the rose 
 And jasmine. And of some the skippers wore 
 Skin purses belted underneath their knives 
 — Spoilers of Ormuz or of Serendib, 
 Who sought the jeweller's offices ere they slept 
 Or drank ashore. These from the sunrise all : 
 5° 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 But others from the dark and narrow seas 
 
 By England and by Flanders. Tin they brought 
 
 In blocks and bars, and lead and pewter ware 
 
 Shipped at Southampton. Lace and napery 
 
 Of Ypres and of Malines, Frankish wools 
 
 In bulk from Calais' warehouses, or spun 
 
 By English hands, grey kersey, fustian, cloth, 
 
 From Guildford, Norwich, London.— 
 
 Ay, but none 
 Brought tidings of Bartholomew. One and all, 
 Still to my questioning the shipmen stared 
 And shook their silver earrings : not a word ! 
 Oft — as th' Orcadian watcher from his rock 
 Scans the grey tide-race eddying by his line — 
 In tavern comer by an empty cup 
 I have heard the roboant captains boast and swell ; 
 Alert, if haply, on vainglorious tale 
 Or outland lie reported, there might drift 
 Si 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Some flotsam of the dim West unexplored. 
 Bird of my hope ! How long ye beat a wing 
 In yon unfathomable fogs, and still 
 Of green no sign ! — the waters ever void, 
 And empty the pink feet of Noe's dove ! 
 
 At Salamanca then they tested us ; 
 
 Churchmen and schoolmen and cosmogoners 
 
 In council. ' Hey ! ' and ' What ? ' ' The earth a 
 
 sphere ? 
 And two ways to Cathaia ? ' ' Tut and tush ! ' 
 ' Feared the Cathaians then no blood in the head 
 From walking upside-down ? ' ' Pray did I know 
 Of a ship 'would sail up-hill ? ' ' Had I not heard 
 Perchance of latitudes when the wheel of the sun 
 Kept the sea boiling ? Of the tropic point 
 Where white men turned hop-skip to blackamoors ? ' 
 ' And hark ye, sir, to what Augustine says, 
 And here is Cosmas' map. " God built the world 
 5 2 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 As a tabernacle : sky for roof and sides, 
 And earth for flooring . . . Made all men to dwell 
 Upon the face of it " — the face, you hear, 
 Not several faces — " On foundations laid 
 The earth abides "—foundations, if you please, 
 Not mid-air. Soothly, sir, at your conceits 
 We smile, but warn you that they lie not far 
 On this side heresy. "Antipodes," hey ? 
 Our Mother Church annuls the Antipodes.' 
 
 Fools, fools, Diego ! Ay, but folly makes 
 More orphans than malevolence. 
 
 There I stood 
 Rejected, and the good queen looked on me. 
 She did not smile. Thank God she did not smile 
 She did not speak. I saw the mute lips move 
 Compassionate, and took defeat, went forth. 
 
 Nay, no compassion now ! With scorn of men 
 I bound my wound, and nursed it while I rode. 
 
 53 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 France now, or England ? Still the wound complained, 
 And still I closed the purple lips with scorn ; 
 Till there on Pinos bridge my horses hoof 
 Rang, and the vaulted echo halloa'd ' Scorn ! ' 
 And so — 
 
 I do remember, on a time, 
 Off Cape St. Vincent in a general fight, 
 How that one master of a sinking hull 
 — An Antwerp captain — danced about his deck 
 Like paper in a gale, and cursed and bawled, 
 And cursed again and shook his fist and bawled, 
 Belabouring his gunners— fat and fierce 
 As a fool's bladder, wholly ludicrous ; 
 Till running to the bulwarks, all aflush 
 To hurl some late-remembered oath, he leanei 
 Collapsed in bloody vomit, and so died. 
 
 So with the bridge's echo welled afresh 
 My wound above its bandages. I lit 
 
 54 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Down from my horse and o'er the parapet bowed 
 
 In sickness of surrender ; let my hopes 
 
 Unhnsk and rain upon the silly stream 
 
 That ran ecstatic, with a babbling lip 
 
 A-flush for the salt tide, and knew not yet 
 
 The smart of that embrace. ' Ron, happy fool ! 
 
 Aspire to make impression on the main, 
 
 'Will swallow thee with all thy freshet wave 
 
 As kings digest the tributary zeal 
 
 Of private men, and so spit forth their names.' 
 
 So leaned I, listless to a gallop of hoofs 
 'Woke distant on the north-east road and swept 
 Down in a smother of dust. I sprang to the bit, 
 And backed to let the posting rider past. 
 But he reined sudden and wheeled. 'Why this will be 
 — Steady, thou sprawler ! — this will be the man, 
 The Genovese himself ! Sir, I have ridden — 
 The queen command's you back to Santa Fe. 
 
 55 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Plague o' this dust ! ' I looked him up and down : 
 
 A little dapper gentleman of the camp, 
 
 Flicking with scented kerchief at his coat 
 
 Of velvet laced with amber, like a bee's, 
 
 And condescending with a silly smile. 
 
 And still he smiled ; and still I pondered him, 
 
 As a father, listening in his closet, hears 
 
 The first cry of his first-born child, and turns 
 
 To watch an idle bee upon the pane, 
 
 And still in the midwife's message hears it buzz. 
 
 ' The queen commands — ' ' So — I believe you, sir ' : 
 
 Then slowlier : ' And I will trust the queen.' 
 
 With eyebrows lifted, and a brisk salute, 
 
 He shook his rein, dug spur, and started back 
 
 A-trot with the answer. 
 
 Haste, O bobbing bee ! 
 Be minister of marriage 'twixt two minds, 
 Two flowers that twine the challenge of their gaze 
 And know no fleshlier union. Soar, O bee ! 
 56 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Hence from the moat up, up to the lady-flower 
 
 Swaying in sunlight high on the palace wall ; 
 
 Creep in her leaning languid bosom, and there 
 
 Do thy close work, whisper, impregnate her 
 
 With a secret such as lowlier blossoms breathe 
 
 At twilight, one to another, nodding anigh 
 
 With petalled nightcaps, while th' eaves - dropping 
 
 breeze 
 Steals by the lily-bordered garden beds. 
 Nay ; 'tis a chaster deed thou hast in hand 
 — To marry mind with mind. Stand but afar 
 And speak : thou hast a word that not alone 
 Will breed conception of a queenly thought, 
 But wake the generations of the world. 
 Dame of the castle ! Leman of the road ! 
 Leap with the quickening babe and press your side ! 
 He hath the resurrection in his heel, 
 Treads underfoot the doom of all his sires, 
 And springs upon the tight cords wherewithal 
 
 57 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 In turn they bound each other to the pit. 
 Dame of the castle ! Leman of the road ! 
 Enlarge your girdles ! — for this conquering babe 
 Shall westward launch and draw with silver wake 
 An honourable girdle round the waist 
 Of Mother Earth, beneath her swelling breasts^ 
 The Old World and the New. O moons of man ! 
 A Spirit moves upon the middle deeps, 
 And all their odic tides acclaim the Babe ! 
 
 Back then I rode : but coolly Reason came 
 With sight of Santa Fe, and plucked my arm — 
 ' Be temperate : for kings have many cares 
 And thou one vision only. See these walls, 
 These tented lines ; and yonder on the cliff, 
 At her last gasp, Granada. Tranquilly, 
 As 'twere on oiled hinge, the sentinel 
 Paces her terrace. Evening for her wounds 
 Hath golden ointment, were they curable. 
 58 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 But at their meat the dusky councillors 
 Mutter " To-morrow ! " and upon the wall 
 The whisperers surmise. " To-morrow ? Ay — 
 There dawns one only morrow for the Moor ! " 
 But O, what blood ! O man, what many blows 
 Have built that morrow ! Christendom redeems 
 The debt, attains the dream. O give her space, 
 A kindly space before she dream again ! ' 
 
 Soberly then I cleansed me of the dust 
 Of travel ; stood within the royal tent 
 With brow composed. And she with brow composed 
 Questioned my hope as 'twere i' the level round 
 Of a queen's audience. Cold ? I did not know 
 She had sought to pledge her jewels for that hope ! 
 Only her tone took up the challenge flung 
 By my obeisance, challenging in turn 
 Her Court, as who should say, ' Behold this man, 
 He offers a new heaven, a new earth ; 
 
 59 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 And claims to hold them for us, taking tithe 
 As Governor, and for his share one-eighth 
 Of his adventure's profit, with the style 
 Of Admiral of the Ocean, privilege 
 As high as our High Admiral's of Castile : 
 Well worth it, an his promises bear fruit. 
 I test him at the furthest of his claim — 
 Go, sir — so much an unbelieving world 
 Concedes its queen : derisive lets her launch 
 Fresh hopes forlorn upon its unbelief — 
 Go, sir, and prove the courage of thy faith.' 
 
 And Faith, my son, the substance is of things 
 Hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. 
 The substance ? ay, I trod it ! not the deck, 
 The barren deck whereon my comrades cursed 
 The wind, the smooth sea running like a stream 
 Still westward, westward through an empty world. 
 Nay, while they cursed, my feet already pressed 
 60 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 The yellow sands, waded the rivulets 
 And long cool grasses of those isles afar. 
 The evidence ? I saw it ! not the weed, 
 The crab, the berried branch, the emperor-fish, 
 The tropic birds that sang about the mast 
 As 'twere a sweet-briar bursting into bud 
 In Seville, in the Andalusian spring. 
 — Signs and a sursum corda for the faint 
 And faithless. Sudden then a few would crowd 
 Forward, and point, and hail the dull blue smear 
 Far on the sky-line. ' News, Lord Admiral ! 
 A land-fall, ho ! and luck be with the news ! ' 
 — So watch it fade, and curse more bitterly. 
 Me neither hope nor omen, true or false, 
 Elated or depressed. Always I bore 
 The certainty within me, and the seal 
 Of God upon it, and the face imposed 
 Of her, my Mistress. Always on the poop, 
 A man apart, I stood and steered a course 
 61 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Unerring, by the magnet of ray doom. 
 Others might watch, all eager for the prize — 
 The thirty annual crowns and velvet coat — 
 For veritable sight and news of land. 
 The Pinla might outsail, the Nina balk 
 Their Admiral. But still for him reserved 
 The hour, and for his eyes the blessed light, 
 The light on Guanahani ! Musing there, 
 Through the first watch, beside the cabin top, 
 I heard between me and the horned moon 
 A frigate-bird go whistling, and a wind 
 Caught in the rigging like a woman's sigh : 
 Whereat I turned O face ! O flash of eyes ! 
 
 star of my devotion ! all dissolved 
 Into a spark that danced and disappeared, 
 And dancing glowed again, as 'twere a torch 
 Moved in a village street from door to door. 
 
 1 called the watch. They had not seen : but ran, 
 Stared, saw — 'Land! land ! ' and 'Praise the Admiral ! 
 
 62 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Who found us light in darkness ? Who but he ? ' 
 — More proof? Then rede thee of that bitter gale 
 Off the Azores, on the homeward road. 
 The Nitia drove alone in seas that drowned 
 Hope and the very heaven. There we cast 
 Lots who should carry — barefoot, in his sark — 
 A candle to Our Lady of Guadelupe. 
 Who drew the lot but I ? Again we cast. 
 And who but I the pilgrim to Moguer, 
 To Santa Clara ? Yea, yet once again 
 A night of anguish off the Tagus mouth ; 
 Again the lot ; again the Admiral ! 
 Me must Our Lady of La Cinta choose : 
 There was none other. Proofs ? I tell thee, son, 
 There was none other ! These men handled ropes, 
 Starved, hoped, shed tears — mechanical, for me 
 Their master. As I meted them, they moved. 
 But Pinzon — who betrayed me once and twice 
 At Cuba — thought us foundered in the gale, 
 63 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Nor stayed to search ; but made his hope, his shame. 
 
 Both doubled by desertion — who, with sail 
 
 Piled high as both, let drive the Pinta home 
 
 To bear the first report and snatch the prize — 
 
 I swear I pitied him. How like to mine 
 
 His hope, if mine had lacked the single grace 
 
 Made his contention impotent ! lacking which, 
 
 He smote upon a consecrated shield 
 
 That on the stroke rang God's authentic ' No ! ' 
 
 Thou knowest how upon a mid-day tide 
 We drew unto that port of our desire ; 
 To Palos, little Palos, left so long, 
 After what wonders found ! and all the roofs 
 Rocked, and the mist of taces on the quay 
 Heaved, and the anchor dropped, and home was home. 
 Thou knowest how, that moment looking back, 
 We saw a lean hull creeping past the bar — 
 The Pinta ! — never spoken since the Azores ! 
 64 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 And Pinzon — traitor, by an hour too late ! 
 
 Always I pitied him. He had designed 
 
 To post to Barcelona with the news : 
 
 Now heard the royal mandate, ' Never come 
 
 But with the Admiral thou shouldst have served.' 
 
 Whereat he turned him to his native town, 
 
 To his own house ; there on the threshold pushed 
 
 By wife and children, mounted to his room, 
 
 And turned the key, and knew his hour, and died. 
 
 But my reward, how came it ? 
 
 Proud enough 
 That hour in Barcelona ; the April sky 
 Shaken with bells and cannon and flame of flags ; 
 The cheers, the craning heads, the blossoms thrown 
 And kerchiefs from the windows fluttering, 
 Flock after flock, like doves let forth to greet 
 The dusty golden pageant — Juan first, 
 The Pilot, with the Standard of Castile : 
 
 E 65 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 The slow brown Indians in their feather cloaks 
 And paint : the seamen bearing fruit and palms, 
 Parrots and gold-fish, conchs and turtle-shells, 
 Lizards on poles, lign-aloes, trays of spice, 
 And gold in calabashes : last of all 
 The Admiral. So, they led me to the throne, 
 Where she and Ferdinand rose, as to a prince, 
 And hardly would permit me kiss their hands : 
 But seated me beside them, bade me tell 
 All our adventures — rarely smiled the Queen — 
 ' Yea, all,' she said. In the great circle's hush, 
 Beneath the canopy of cloth-of-gold, 
 I found my voice and spake — ' Most Catholic King, 
 And thou, Star-regent of our enterprise, 
 Sooner than half were told, this April night 
 Would shake the planets from her dusky wings 
 Down-hovering. Yet an hour shall tell enough 
 To tune all tongues to anthems praising God.' 
 So for an hour I told the tale ; and twice 
 66 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Paused : but insistent she commanded ' More ! ' 
 Leaning with parted lip and kindling cheek, 
 As might the Carthaginian, had no drought 
 Of passion parched her dusky throat, have leaned 
 To Troy's immortal wanderer. Was it then 
 Came my reward ? 
 
 Not then, nor ever so. 
 But long years after, when that dream was grey, 
 And the heart wise, and fellowship was none 
 (For 'tis the curse of greatness, to outgrow 
 All friends and from the lone height long for friends, 
 And falling, find the friends it left all gone), 
 — Years afterward, when black was favour's torch 
 And faith took bribes ; when Ferdinand betrayed, 
 And Bobadilla, High Commissioner, 
 Foamed at his lunatic height, raged like a beast, 
 Cast us in chains, shipped us like beeves to Spain — 
 Then, from the pit of that most brutal fall 
 
 67 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 A voice commanded ' Break his chains ! He shall 
 
 In person stand before us, plead his cause.' 
 
 Carefully then I dressed me as became 
 
 The Admiral of the Ocean. Squire and page 
 
 And retinue — I did abate no jot 
 
 While the purse bled. A prince, and all a prince, 
 
 I passed between the sneering chamber crowd, 
 
 The whispering abjects of the ante-rooms, 
 
 Into the presence : stood there, cold, erect. 
 
 ' I am Columbus. I have left my chains 
 
 Nailed at my bed's head by the crucifix : 
 
 And come to know what further, O my King ? ' 
 
 Then Ferdinand — I saw him bite his lip — 
 
 Sat with pink face averted. But the Queen 
 
 Rose from her throne, silent — I would have knelt ; 
 
 Too late ! She stretched her hands and, silent 
 
 yet, 
 
 Gazed, and the world fell from us, and we wept — 
 We two, together . . . 
 
 68 
 
COLUMBUS AT SEVILLE 
 
 Ah, blessed hands ! Ah, blessed woman's hands — 
 
 Stretched to undo irreparable wrong ! 
 
 Yea, the more blest being all impotent ! 
 
 A queen's I had not touched : but hers met mine 
 
 In humbleness across man's common doom, 
 
 In sadness and in wisdom beyond pride. 
 
 They are cold beside her now, and cannot stir. 
 
 Further than I have travelled she hath fared : 
 
 But I shall follow. Soon will come the call : 
 
 And I shall grip the tiller once again. 
 
 The purple night shall heave upon the floor 
 
 Mile after mile ; the dawn invade the stars, 
 
 The stars the dawn — how long ? And following 
 
 down 
 The moon's long ripple, I shall hear again 
 The frigate-bird go whistling — see the flash. — 
 The light on Guanahani ! Salvador ! 
 Let thy Cross flame upon me in that star, 
 And from that Cross outstretch her sainted hands ! 
 69 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 My son, they tell me that the Queen is gone. 
 
 I trust she rests in glory, free from all 
 
 The cares of this rough world. She was my friend : 
 
 And I shall find it harder now to treat 
 
 With Ferdinand. He fends me off with words. 
 
 I thought that last petition ill prepared ; 
 
 And have an ampler one ; drawn up and signed 
 
 To-day, or yesterday — who knows ? The blinds 
 
 Are closed, and no sun moves upon the floor. 
 
 70 
 
THE WHITE MOTH 
 
 THE WHITE MOTH 
 
 If a leaf rustled, she would start : 
 
 And yet she died a year ago. 
 How had so frail a thing the heart 
 
 To journey where she trembled so ? 
 And do they turn and turn in fright, 
 
 Those little feet, in so much night ? 
 
 The light above the poet's head 
 
 Streamed on the pane and on the cloth, 
 
 And twice and thrice there buffeted 
 
 On the black pane a white-winged moth : 
 
 'Twas Annie's soul that beat outside 
 And ' Open ! open ! open ! ' cried : 
 7i 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' I could not find the way to God : 
 There were too many flaming suns 
 
 For signposts, and the fearful road 
 Led over wastes where millions 
 
 Of tangled comets hissed and burned — 
 I was bewildered and I turned. 
 
 ' Oh, it was easy then ! I knew 
 Your window and no star beside. 
 
 Look up, and take me back to you ! ' 
 — He rose and thrust the window wide. 
 
 'Twas but because his head was hot 
 With rhyming : for he heard her not. 
 
 But poets polishing a phrase 
 Show anger over trivial things ; 
 
 And as she blundered in the blaze 
 Towards him, on ecstatic wings, 
 
 He raised a hand and smote her dead ;_ 
 Then wrote, ' That I had died instead ! ' 
 72 
 
PREMONITION 
 
 PREMONITION 
 
 She sat upon the cottage stair, — 
 
 A tender child of three, 
 And washed and dressed with wisest care 
 
 The doll upon her knee. 
 
 And we, who guessed not why there grew 
 
 In Annie's baby eyes 
 That little clouding of the blue, 
 
 That shade of awed surmise, 
 
 Remembered, in the darkened room, 
 
 Where yesterday we took 
 Our Annie's new-born babe, on whom 
 
 Her eyes might never look. 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 HELFORD RIVER 
 
 SONG 
 
 Helford River, Helford River, 
 
 Blessed may ye be ! 
 We sailed up Helford River 
 
 By Durgan from the sea. 
 
 O to hear the hawser chain 
 
 Rattle by the ferry there ! 
 Dear, and shall we come again 
 
 By Bosahan, 
 By wood and water fair ? 
 
 All the wood to ransack, 
 All the wave explore — 
 
 Moon on Calamansack, 
 Ripple on the shore. 
 
 74 
 
HELFORD RIVER 
 
 — Laid asleep and dreaming 
 
 On our cabin beds ; 
 Helford River streaming 
 
 By two happy heads ; 
 
 — Helford River, streaming 
 By Durgan to the sea, 
 
 Much have we been dreaming 
 Since we dreamed by thee. 
 
 Dear, and shall we dream again 
 
 The one dream there ? 
 All may go if that remain 
 
 By Bosahan, 
 And the old face wear ! 
 
 75 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 TO THE LAND WHERE YE GO 
 
 To the land where ye go 
 
 Ye may not beckon me ; 
 In the ranks ye shall know 
 Ye shall not reckon me. 
 On the earth ye did move 
 As deep below as high above 
 
 All your surroundings. 
 I cast a plummet in your love 
 And found no soundings. 
 
 Pools of heaven were your eyes ; 
 
 Their deeps rejected not 
 One whom wide Paradise 
 
 Pitied, reflected not. 
 76 
 
TO THE LAND WHERE YE GO ... ' 
 
 Was it time lost to lean 
 
 My longing lip toward the clean 
 
 Well-springs of healing, 
 Surprise the soul mine might have been, 
 
 And ponder, kneeling ? 
 
 77 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 TO BEARERS 
 
 Maids, carry her forth — your dead, 
 
 Your pale young queen ; 
 Two at her feet, two at her head, 
 
 And four hetween. — 
 Not as we wanted it, 
 But as God granted it. 
 
 Not now to the swinging chime, 
 To the organ swell, 
 
 Keep we the rank, treading in time- 
 But one dull bell. 
 
 Open the gates for her ! 
 
 The Bridegroom waits for her. 
 78 
 
TO BEARERS 
 
 We never had dreamed it so : 
 
 But she — she knew ; 
 Walking aloof, placid of brow 
 
 Her short life through 
 Scornful, in surety 
 Guarding her purity. 
 
 Buds born for the bridal path 
 
 Cover her breast : 
 Babes of the dream now that she hath 
 
 Sleep in her rest. 
 Our peace above her let 
 
 Fall for her coverlet. 
 
 79 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 THE GENTLE SAVAGE 
 
 Go down, my Soul, unto the river ; 
 
 The day is done, the mountain mute ; 
 Thou hast a message to deliver — 
 Why loiterest yet irresolute ? 
 
 See, on the farther bank, 
 The lamp-light winking 
 Across the city, cooling there her flank 
 Like a beast drinking. 
 
 Down by the mill, the ghostly miller 
 May see a twilit phantom steal 
 
 And loose an arrow duskier, shriller, 
 Than flies the bat about his wheel. 
 
 80 
 
THE GENTLE SAVAGE 
 
 Arrow of secret call ! 
 Call to her only 
 Who, at her window on the city wall, 
 Waiteth so lonely. 
 
 O mother, in thy royal chamber 
 
 How barest thou such a son as I ? 
 Thou, cased at heart with pearl and amber, 
 With starch and stiff embroidery : 
 I, the brown Ishmaelite — 
 I, whom the starry 
 Summits behold at loose upon the night 
 After my quarry ? 
 
 Small mother mine, amid thy roses 
 Thy heart sings all the day content. 
 
 The curtained wall that round thee closes 
 Reminds not of imprisonment. 
 F 81 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 I, on the mountain-tops 
 All the day roaming, 
 Recall thee never till a shadow drops 
 From the rook, homing. 
 
 That call renews our blood's confusion — 
 
 Thy babe leaps naked back to thee : 
 Thy soul remembers her seclusion, 
 And mine abhors her liberty. 
 Suppliant I nestle then 
 To thee the stronger, 
 And seek my strength of thee, mother of men, 
 Mere queen no longer. 
 
 A moment, and our wiser senses 
 
 Restore to each the life apart. 
 Yet, as the violet condenses 
 
 All Venus in one dewy heart, 
 
 82 
 
THE GENTLE SAVAGE 
 
 So all the night I hear 
 Thy lids distilling 
 A love that holds in every purple tear 
 Love's planet thrilling. 
 
 83 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 THE PLANTED HEEL. 
 
 By Talland Church as I did go, 
 I passed my kindred all in a row ; 
 
 Straight and silent there by the spade 
 Each in his narrow chamber laid. 
 
 While I passed, each kinsman's clay 
 Stole some virtue of mine away : 
 
 Till my shoes on the muddy road 
 Left not a print, so light they trod. 
 
 Back I went to the Bearer's Lane, 
 Begged the dead for my own again. 
 84 
 
THE PLANTED HEEL 
 
 Answered the eldest one of my line — 
 ' Thy heart was no one's heart but mine.' 
 
 The second claimed my working skill, 
 The third my wit, the fourth my will : 
 
 The fifth one said, * Thy feet I gave ; 
 But want no fleet ness here in the grave.' 
 
 ' For feet a man need have no care, 
 If they no weight of his own may bear. 
 
 ' If I own naught by separate birth, 
 
 What binds my heel e'en now to the earth ? ' 
 
 The dead together answered back — 
 
 ' Naught but the wealth in thy knapsack.' 
 
 ' Nay, then,' said I, ' that 's quick to unload ' : 
 And strewed my few pence out on the road. 
 
 85 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' O kinsmen, now be quick, resume 
 Each rag of me to its rightful tomb ! ' 
 
 The dead were silent then for a space. 
 Still I stood upright in my place. 
 
 Said one, ' Some strength he will yet conceal. 
 ' Belike 'tis pride of a planted heel ? ' 
 
 ' Man has but one perduring pride : 
 Of knowledge alone he is justified. 
 
 ' Lie down, lie down by us in the sod : 
 Thou shalt be wise in the ways of God.' 
 
 ' Nay, so I stand upright in the dust, 
 I '11 take God's purposes all on trust 
 
 • An inch of heel for a yard of spine, 
 So give me again the goods that are mine ! ' 
 86 
 
THE PLANTED HEEL 
 
 I planted my heel by their headstones, 
 
 And wrestled an hour with my kinsmen's bones. 
 
 I shook their dust thrice into a sieve, 
 And gathered all that they had to give. 
 
 I winnowed knowledge out of the heap : 
 ' Take it,' I said, ' to warm your sleep.' 
 
 I cast their knowledge back on the sod, 
 And went on my journey, praising God. 
 
 Of all their knowledge I thought me rid : 
 But one little grain in my pack had hid. 
 
 Now, as I go, myself I tell — 
 
 ' On a planted heel man wrestles well.' 
 
 But that little grain keeps whispering me — 
 ' Better, perhaps, on a planted knee.' 
 87 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 IA'S SONG 
 
 Long before day I left my father's cottage, 
 I went by the tamarisks upon the hedges by the sea, 
 Seeking my lovely one, my comforter, before the 
 morning. 
 
 My brothers three lie drowned by Dolor Oogo. 
 
 They call in the night : ' Little sister, when is the 
 
 wedding ? 
 It is cold waiting, and thou a drudge in our father's 
 
 cottage.' 
 
 Now must I go and whisper them ' Not yet ' — 
 
 Not yet ; but the thyme of the hedge kisses my naked 
 
 foot — 
 So will he kiss me soon, and comfort me, my pretty 
 
 lover. 
 
 88 
 
IA'S SONG 
 
 Then will I kneel by him, and he shall bandage 
 
 The wounds of the brambles, and I, kneeling beside 
 
 him, 
 Softly, my arm holding his waist, will kiss him — ah, 
 
 when ? 
 
 89 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 A FIDDLER'S VALENTINE 
 
 Pretty player, from thy strings 
 Little whispers take them wings — 
 
 Take them wings and hie to me ! 
 In my hollow heart they dwell 
 Swinging it as 'twere a bell 
 
 Ding-a-ding inside o' me. 
 Hand to play and heart to ring — 
 Together might they make a spring 
 On earth beyond imagining : 
 
 But nay, and nay — 
 
 For now my love's denied to me. 
 Therefore, dear, lay down thy fiddle, 
 Clip me once around the middle, 
 
 Kiss, and say good-bye to me ! 
 
 90 
 
THE KERCHIEF 
 
 THE KERCHIEF 
 
 When I 'gan to know thee, dear, 
 
 Thy faults I did espy ; 
 And ' Sure this is a blemish here, 
 
 And that's a blot,' said I. 
 
 But from that hour I did resign 
 My judgment to my fate, 
 
 Thou art no more than only mine 
 To love and vindicate. 
 
 The kerchief that thou gav'st I wear 
 Upon mine eyelids bound, 
 
 And every man I meet I dare 
 To find the faults I found. 
 
 9 1 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 LOVE SEQUESTERED 
 
 Though in her grey unclouded eyes 
 No cheat abode, nor compromise, 
 But truth in clearest outline shone, 
 And sin from honour stood alone ; 
 
 Yet to be with her was to walk 
 
 A faery shore, and list the talk 
 
 Of dropping streams, and nightingales, 
 
 And gods dissolved in inland vales. 
 
 And though we loved and lived remote, 
 Nor feat achieved deserving note, 
 Each trivial step was sanctified 
 In that we took it side by side. 
 
 92 
 
THE LEAST OF THESE 
 
 THE LEAST OF THESE 
 
 ' Lord, in Thy Courts 
 
 Are seats so green bestow' d, 
 As there resorts 
 
 Along the dusty road 
 A cavalcade, — King, Bishop, Knight, and Judge : 
 And though I toil behind and meanly trudge, 
 Let me, too, he upon that pleasant sward, 
 For I am weary, Lord. 
 
 ' Christ, at Thy board 
 
 Are wines and dishes drest 
 
 That do afford 
 
 Contentment to the best. 
 
 93 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 And though with Poverty my bed hath been 
 These many years, and my refreshment lean, 
 With plenty now at last my soul acquaint, 
 Dear Master, for I faint.' 
 
 But through the grille, 
 
 ' Where is thy Robe ? ' said He 
 ' Wouldst eat thy fill, 
 Yet shirk civility ? ' 
 ' My Robe, alas ! There was a little child 
 
 That shivered by the road ' Swiftly God smiled : 
 
 ' I was that Child,' said He, and raised the pin ; 
 ' Dear friend, enter thou in ! ' 
 
 94 
 
CAROL 
 
 CAROL 
 
 Fling out, fling out your windows wide ' 
 I bring you joy this Christmas-tide : 
 
 To-day is born in Bethlehem 
 
 A son of royal David's stem : 
 
 Then sing and rest you satisfied — 
 
 In excekis gloria ! 
 
 ' Where is the royal Babe arrayed ? ' 
 
 Lo ! He is in a manger laid ; 
 The Lord of life an ox's guest — 
 But warm He lies on Mary's breast ? 
 Then sing and rest you undismayed. 
 95 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 ' How may we find His manger-bed ? ' 
 There shines a star above His head ; 
 And choirs of viewless Cherubin 
 Shall guide you to that humble inn : 
 Then sing and rest you comforted. 
 
 ' And is it He that should be sent ? ' 
 Three kings came from the Orient 
 
 A-riding with the tokens three 
 
 From Ind, Cathay, and Arabye : 
 Then sing and rest you confident. 
 
 ' What bringeth He, this new-born King ? ' 
 
 Lo ! all good gifts there are to bring. 
 'Tis He shall turn your tears to mirth, 
 And send goodwill and peace on earth : 
 Then kneel, and rest you worshipping — 
 In excelsis gloria ! 
 
 96 
 
CHILD'S CAROL 
 
 CHILD'S CAROL 
 
 Naked boy, brown boy, 
 
 In the snow deep, 
 Piping, carolling 
 
 Folks out of sleep ; 
 Little shoes, thin shoes, 
 
 All so wet and worn — 
 But I bring the merry news 
 
 — Christ is born ! 
 
 Rise, pretty mistress ! 
 
 Don a gay silk ; 
 Give me for my good news 
 
 Bread and new milk. 
 97 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Joy, joy in Jewry, 
 This very morn ! 
 
 Far and far I carry it 
 — Christ is born ! 
 
 Back, back in Bethl'em, 
 
 By the moon still, 
 There I saw a shepherd 
 
 Sitting on a hill : 
 ' Boy/ said he, ' bonny boy, 
 
 Take you this horn, 
 Wend you now and wind it, 
 
 — Christ is born ! 
 
 And whenever people 
 Hear the merry blast, 
 
 Bells in every steeple, 
 Flags on every mast, 
 
 98 
 
CHILD'S CAROL 
 
 Holy boughs and holly 
 
 Adore and adorn, 
 Far and far and jubilant 
 
 — Christ is born ! 
 
 Therefore I would have you 
 
 People comprehend 
 Christ is born in Bethl'em 
 
 For to be your friend : 
 For to bear the agony, 
 
 For to wear the thorn, 
 For to die on Calvary, 
 
 — Christ is born ! 
 
 99 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 HOLY INNOCENTS 
 
 Us Herod slew, 
 Willing to slay the infant Christ, our Lord. 
 But from the sword 
 Our tender life in globes of lighted dew 
 Trickled and twinkling ran 
 Before Him to the waste Egyptian, 
 Gilding His way like glow-worms on the sward. 
 
 Now in His house 
 He draweth us to deck the Christmas fir 
 From chest of myrrh ; 
 Whom as Aunt Mary bindetb on the boughs, 
 Her eyes drop happy rain 
 For sorrow past — and lo ! we live again 
 As babies trembling in the tears of her. 
 
 100 
 
JETSOM 
 
 JETSOM 
 
 Where Gerennius' beacon stands 
 High above Pendower sands ; 
 Where, about the windy Nare, 
 Foxes breed and falcons pair ; 
 Where the gannet dries a wing 
 Wet with fishy harvesting, 
 And the cormorants resort, 
 Flapping slowly from their sport 
 With the fat Atlantic shoal, 
 Homeward to Tregeagle's Hole — 
 Walking there, the other day, 
 In a bight within a bay, 
 I espied amid the rocks, 
 Bruised and jammed, the daintiest box 
 That the waves had flung and left 
 roi 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 High upon an ivied cleft. 
 Striped it was with white and red, 
 Satin-lined and carpeted, 
 Hung with bells, and shaped withal 
 Like the queer, fantastical 
 Chinese temples you '11 have seen 
 Pictured upon white Nankin, 
 Where, assembled in effective 
 Head-dresses and odd perspective, 
 Tiny dames and mandarins 
 Expiate their egg-shell sins 
 By reclining on their drumsticks, 
 Waving fans and burning gum-sticks. 
 Land of poppy and pekoe ! 
 Could thy sacred artists know — 
 Could they possibly conjecture 
 How we use their architecture, 
 Ousting the indignant Joss 
 For a pampered Flirt or Floss, 
 
JETSOM 
 
 Poodle, Blenheim, Skye, Maltese, 
 Lapped in purple and proud ease — 
 They might read their god's reproof 
 Here on blistered wall and roof, 
 Scaling lacquer, dinted bells, 
 Floor befouled of weed and shells, 
 Where, as erst the tabid Curse 
 Brooded over Pelops' hearse, 
 Squats the sea-cow, keeping house, 
 Sibylline, gelatinous. 
 Where is Carlo ? Tell, O tell, 
 Echo, from this fluted shell, 
 In whose concave ear the tides 
 Murmur what the main confides 
 Of his compassed treacheries ! 
 What of Carlo ? Did the breeze 
 Madden to a gale while he, 
 Curled and cushioned cosily, 
 Mixed in dreams its angry breathings 
 103 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 With the tinkle of the tea-things 
 In his mistress' cabin laid ? 
 — Nor dyspeptic, nor dismayed, 
 Drowning in a gentle snore 
 All the menace of the shore 
 Thundered from the surf a-lee 
 Near and nearer horribly, — 
 Scamper of affrighted feet, 
 Voices cursing sail and sheet, 
 While the tall ship shook in irons — 
 All the peril that environs 
 Vessels 'twixt the wind and rock 
 Clawing — driving ? Did the shock, 
 As the sunk reef split her back, 
 First arouse him ? Did the crack 
 Widen swiftly and deposit 
 Him in homeless night ? 
 
 Or was it, 
 Not when wave or wind assailed, 
 104 
 
JETSOM 
 
 But in waters dumb and veiled, 
 That a looming shape uprist 
 Sudden from the channel mist, 
 And with crashing, rending bows 
 Woke him, in his padded house, 
 To a world of altered features ? 
 Were these panic-ridden creatures 
 They who, but an hour agone, 
 Ran with biscuit, ran with bone, 
 Ran with meats in lordly dishes, 
 To prevent his lordly wishes ? 
 But an hour agone ! And now how 
 Vain his once compelling bow-wow ! 
 Little dogs are highly treasured, 
 Petted, patted, pampered, pleasured 
 But when ships go down in fogs, 
 No one thinks of little dogs. 
 
 Ah, but how dost fare, I wonder, 
 i°5 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Now thine Argo splits asunder, 
 Pouring on the wasteful sea 
 All her precious bales, and thee ? 
 Little use is now to rave, 
 Calling god or saint to save ; 
 Little use, if choked with salt, a 
 Prayer to holy John of Malta. 
 Patron John, he hears thee not. 
 Or, perchance, in dusky grot 
 Pale Persephone, repining 
 For the fields that still are shining, 
 Shining in her sleepless brain, 
 Calling, ' Back ! come back again ! ' 
 Fain of playmate, fain of pet — 
 Any drug to slay regret, — 
 Hath from hell upcast an eye 
 On thy fatal symmetry, 
 And beguiled her sooty lord 
 With his brother to accord 
 106 
 
JETSOM 
 
 For this black betrayal. Else 
 Nereus in his car of shells 
 Long ago had cleft the waters 
 With his natatory daughters 
 To the rescue : or Poseidon 
 Sent a fish for thee to ride on — 
 Such a steed as erst Arion 
 Reached the mainland high and dry on. 
 Steed appeareth none, nor pilot ! 
 Little dog, if it be thy lot 
 To essay the dismal track 
 Where Odysseus half hung back, 
 How wilt thou conciliate 
 That grim mastiff by the gate ? 
 Sure 'twill puzzle thee to fawn 
 On his muzzles three that yawn 
 Antrous ; or to find, poor dunce, 
 Grace in his six eyes at once — 
 Those red eyes of Cerberus. 
 107 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Daughters of Oceanus, 
 Save our darling from this hap ! 
 Arethusa, spread thy lap, 
 Catch him, and with pinky hands 
 Bear him to the coral sands, 
 Where thy sisters sit in school 
 Carding the Milesian wool : — 
 Clio, Spio, Beroe, 
 Opis and Phyllodoce, — 
 Pass by these, and also pass 
 Yellow-haired Lycorias ; 
 Pass Ligea, shrill of song — 
 All the dear surrounding throng ; 
 Lay him at Cyrene's feet 
 There, where all the rivers meet : 
 In their waters crystalline 
 Bathe him clean of weed and brine, 
 Comb him, wipe his amber eyes, 
 Then to Zeus who rules the skies 
 108 
 
JETSOM 
 
 Call, assembling in a round 
 Every fish that can be found — 
 Whale and merman, lobster, cod, 
 Tittlebat and demigod : — 
 ' Lord of all the Universe, 
 We, thy finny pensioners, 
 Sue thee for the little life 
 Hurried hence by Hades' wife. 
 Sooner than she call him her dog, 
 Change, O change him to a mer-dog ! 
 Re-inspire the vital spark ; 
 Bid him wag his tail and bark ; 
 Bark for joy to wag a tail 
 Bright with many a flashing scale ; 
 Bid his locks refulgent twine, 
 Hyacinthe, hyaline ; 
 Bid him gambol, bid him follow 
 Blithely to the mermen's ' halloa ! ' 
 When they call the deep-sea calves 
 109 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Home with wreathed univalves. 
 Softly shall he sleep to-night, 
 Curled on couch of stalagmite, 
 Soft and sound, and scarcely moister 
 Than the shell-protected oyster. 
 Grant us this, Omnipotent, 
 And to Hera shall be sent 
 One black pearl, but of a size 
 That shall turn her rivals' eyes 
 Greener than the greenest snake 
 Fed in meadow-grass, and make 
 All Olympus run agog — 
 Grant for this our darling dog ! ' 
 
 Musing thus, the other day, 
 In a bight within a bay, 
 I 'd a sudden thought that yet some 
 Purpose for this piece of jetsom 
 Might be found ; and straight supplied it. 
 no 
 
JETSOM 
 
 On the turf I knelt beside it, 
 Disengaged it from the boulders, 
 Hoisted it upon my shoulders, 
 Bore it home, and, with a few 
 Tin-tacks and a pot of glue, 
 Mended it, affixed a ledge ; 
 Set it by the elder-hedge ; 
 And in May, with horn and kettle 
 Coax'd a swarm of bees to settle. 
 Here around me now they hum ; 
 And in Autumn should you come 
 Westward to my Cornish home, 
 There '11 be honey in the comb — 
 Honey that, with clotted cream 
 (Though I win not your esteem 
 As a bard), will prove me wise, 
 In that, of the double prize 
 Sent by Hermes from the sea, I 've 
 Sold the song and kept the bee-hive, 
 in 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 THE BIG REVIEW 
 
 (To be sung to a pipe and drum quickstep) 
 
 When I went up, a raw recruit. 
 
 To Bodmin town from Scorrier, 
 Our Colonel wore a gold-laced suit 
 
 Like a warrior all ablaze : 
 Our Colonel held a Big Review, 
 
 With knapsack, pouch, and bagginet, 
 An' the Colonel's daughter drove thereto 
 
 In a wagginet drawn by bays. 
 
 112 
 
THE BIG REVIEW 
 
 The drums they beat, the trumpets blowed, 
 
 The guns went off impartial ; 
 But of all the regiment Private Coad 
 
 In a martial way did best. 
 ' Stand forth, stand forth, thou hero bold ! 
 
 To you the rest be secon'-rate : 
 'Tis you shall wear this clasp of gold 
 
 For to decorate your broad chest ! — 
 
 O where, O where 's my best recruit 
 That e'er I paid a shillin' for ? ' 
 — But all the regiment stuck there mute, 
 
 Unwillin' for to explain ; 
 Till forth I steps, and gives a cough. 
 
 And answers him so dutiful — 
 ' Look, Colonel, dear, he 's gallopin' off 
 With your beautiful daughter Jane ! ' 
 h 113 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 ' Of all the plans that e'er I 've known, 
 
 Says he, ' I do call that a plan 
 To bring my hairs in sorrow down 
 
 With a rataplan to the grave ! 
 Form up, form up, each galliant blade, 
 
 Form up, my sons of Waterloo ! 
 I ain't goin' to spoil my Big Parade 
 
 For a mortal who can't behave ! ' 
 
 114 
 
L' ENVOI 
 
 L'ENVOI 
 
 Go little book, and this let be thy prayer — 
 That critics may consider well, and take 
 Thee for thine own and not the writer's sake, 
 
 But have of him, apart from thee, no care. 
 
 Much have I tried and little have achieved — 
 Much have myself dissatisfied with prose, 
 Which yet I aimed to better ; and, God knows, 
 
 Have more myself than any critic grieved. 
 
 But thou art separate. Youngling of my heart 
 I cannot judge thee, whether good or bad. 
 In doubt thou wast begotten, dearest lad, 
 
 And still in doubt I kept thee long apart. 
 "5 
 
POEMS AND BALLADS 
 
 Now at the door, with ribbons in thy cap. 
 
 Doubt not, but draw from these parental eyes 
 A double courage for the enterprise. 
 
 Go, slender youth : God send thee gentle hap ! 
 
 116 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 27. — Where the Avon winds under Bredon Hill in Worcester- 
 shire, and just where the Malverns come into view, a bridge of native 
 sandstone crosses between the villages of Eckington and Defford. 
 Its parapet is scored with many deep grooves and notches, worn in 
 the stone by the tow-ropes of departed barges. The river from 
 Tewkesbury to Stratford was made navigable in 1637 by Mr. William 
 Sandys, of Fladbury, 'at his own proper cost.' But railways have 
 ruined waterways : the locks above Evesham have fallen into decay, 
 while those below have lost their custom, and Stratford no longer (in 
 the words of the Rev. Richard Jago, author of Edge-hill) — 
 
 ' her spacious magazines unfolds, 
 And hails th unwieldy barge from western shores 
 With foreign dainties fraught, or native ore 
 Of pitchy hue, to pile the fuel'd grate, 
 In woolly stores or husky grain repay' d. ' 
 
 Page 43, lines 3, 4. — 'And let the counsel of thine own heart stand; 
 for there is no man more faithful unto thee than it. 
 
 ' For a man's mind is sometime wont to tell him more than seven 
 watchmen, that sit above in an high tower.' — Ecclesiasticus, xxxvii. 
 13. 14- 
 Page 49, line 3. — ' Pinos bridge. ' There is a tradition that Columbus, 
 broken by the indifference of the Spanish Court, had started to seek 
 aid in England for his project, but was overtaken on the bridge of 
 Pinos by a messenger from Isabella, bearing a fresh promise of assist- 
 ance. Being urged by the messenger to return to Santa F6, he 
 pondered and replied, ' I will take the word of the noble queen.' 
 
 Page 50, lines 4 and following. — ' Levantine traders. . . .' See 
 The Career of Columbus, by Mr. Charles I. Elton (1892), p. 15. 
 
 Page 56, line 16. — 'Be minister of marriage. . . .' I hope the 
 critic will pardon my having put into the mouth of Columbus this 
 anticipation of a quite modern discovery. 
 
 117 
 
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12 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
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Messrs. Methuen's List 13 
 
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 Crown 8zio. $s. 
 
 ' The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It is excellently, 
 even lovingly, written.' — Scotsman. 
 
 1 An excellent monograph.' — Times. 
 
 ' A most complete presentation.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 M. Kaufmann. CHARLES KINGSLEY. By M. Kaufmann, 
 M.A. Crown Svo. Buckram. 5s. 
 A biography of Kingsley, especially dealing with his achievements in social reform. 
 'The author has certainly gone about his work with conscientiousness and industry. — 
 She field Daily Telegraph. 
 
 A. F. Bobbins. THE EARLY LIFE OF WILLIAM EWART 
 GLADSTONE. By A. F. Robbins. With Portraits. Crown 
 Svo. 6s. 
 'Considerable labour and much skill of presentation have not been unworthily 
 expended on this interesting work.' — Times. 
 
 Clark Russell. THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COL- 
 LING WOOD. By W. Clark Russell, Author of ' The Wreck 
 of the Grosvenor.' With Illustrations by F. Brangwyn. Third 
 Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 ' A most excellent and wholesome book, which we should like to see in the hands of 
 every boy in the country.'—^*. James's Gazette. 
 
 ' A really good book.' — Saturday Review. 
 
 Southey. ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins, 
 Drake, Cavendish). By Robert Southey. Edited, with an 
 Introduction, by David Hannay. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.'— A rmy and Navy Gazette. 
 
 ' A brave, inspiriting book.' — Slack and White. 
 
 ' The work of a master of style, and delightful all through. '—Daily Chronicle. 
 
 General Literature 
 
 S. Baring Gould. OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. Baring 
 Gould, Author of • Mehalah,' etc. With Sixty-seven Illustrations 
 by W. Parkinson, F. D. Bedford, and F. Masey. Large 
 Crown Svo. 10s. 6d. Fifth and Cheaper Edition. 6s. 
 ' " Old Country Life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life and move- 
 ment, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not be excelled by any book to be^ 
 published throughout the year. Sound, hearty, and English to the core. '—World. 
 
16 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 S. Baring Gould. HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 
 EVENTS V By S. Baring Gould. Third Edition. Crovm%vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. The whole volume is delightful 
 reading.' — Times. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. Baring 
 Gould. Third Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 ' Mr. Baring Gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the subjects he has 
 chosen give ample scope to his descriptive and analytic faculties. A perfectly 
 fascinating book.' — Scottish Leader. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG : 
 English Folk Songs with their Traditional Melodies. Collected and 
 arranged by S. Baring Gould and H. Fleetwood Sheppard. 
 Demy 4/0. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional 
 Ballads and Songs of the West of England, with their Traditional 
 Melodies. Collected by S. Baring Gould, M. A., and H.Fleet- 
 wood Sheppard, M. A. Arranged for Voice and Piano. In 4 Parts 
 (containing 25 Songs each), Parts I., II., III., y. each. Part 
 IV., 5 J. In one Vol., French morocco, 15*. 
 ' A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic fancy/ — Saturday Review. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE 
 EVENTS. Fourth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPER- 
 STITIONS. With Illustrations. By S. Baring Gould. Crown 
 %vo. Second Edition. 6s. 
 1 We have read Mr. Baring Gould's hook from beginning to end. It is full of quaint 
 and various information, and there is not a dull page in it. ' — Notes and Queries. 
 
 S. Baring Gould. THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN 
 FRANCE. By S. Baring. Gould. With numerous Illustrations 
 by F. D. Bedford, S. Hutton, etc. 2 vols. Demy &vo. 32s. 
 
 This book is the first serious attempt to describe the great barren tableland that 
 extends to the south of Limousin in the Department of Aveyron, Lot, etc, a 
 country of dolomite cliffs, and canons, and subterranean rivers. The region is 
 full of prehistoric and historic interest, relics of cave-dwellers, of mediaeval 
 robbers, and of the English domination and the Hundred Years' War. 
 
 ' His two richly-illustrated volumes are full of matter of interest to the geologist, 
 the archaeologist, and the student of history and manners.' — Scotsman. 
 
 1 It deals with its subject in a manner which rarely fails to arrest attention.' — Times. 
 
 R. S. Baden-Powell. THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH. A 
 Diary of Life with the Native Levy in Ashanti, 1895. By Lieut. -Col. 
 Baden-Powell. With 21 Illustrations, a Map, and a Special 
 Chapter on the Political and Commercial Position of Ashanti by Sir 
 George Baden-Powell, K.C.M.G., M.P. Demy Svo. 10s. 6d. 
 
 ' A compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.' — Daily News. 
 1 A bluff and vigorous narrative.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 ' A really interesting book.'— Yorkshire Post. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 17 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC AD- 
 DRESSES OF THE RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. 
 Edited by A. W. Hutton, M.A., and H. J. Cohen, M.A. With 
 Portraits. Zvo. Vols. IX. and X. 12s. 6d. each. 
 
 Henley and Whibley. A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. 
 Collected by W. E. Henley and Charles Whibley. Cr. %vo. 6s. 
 
 1 A unique volume of extracts — an art gallery of early prose.' — Birmingham Post. 
 
 ' Anadmirable companion to Mr. Henley's " Lyra Heroica.'" — Saturday Review. 
 
 ' Quite delightful. The choice made has been excellent, and the volume has been 
 most admirably printed by Messrs. Constable. A greater treat for those not well 
 acquainted with pre-Restoration prose could not be imagined. ' — Athcn&um. 
 
 J. Wells. OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of 
 the University. Edited by J. WELLS, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of 
 Wadham College. Crown Svo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 This work contains an account of life at Oxford — intellectual, social, and religious — 
 a careful estimate of necessary expenses, a review of recent changes, a statement 
 of the present position of the University, and chapters on Women's Education, 
 aids to study, and University Extension. 
 
 ' We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and intelligent account 
 of Oxford as it is at the present time, written by persons who are possessed of a 
 close acquaintance with the system and life of the University.' — Athenaum. 
 
 W. M. Dixon. A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M. 
 
 Dixon, M.A., Professor of English Literature at Mason College. 
 Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 1 Much sound and well-expressed criticism and acute literary judgments. The biblio- 
 graphy is a boon.' — Speaker. 
 
 1 No better estimate of the late Laureate's work has yet been published. His sketch 
 of Tennyson's life contains everything essential ; his bibliography is full and con- 
 cise ; his literary criticism is most interesting.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 W. A. Craigie. A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. Craigie. 
 
 Crown Svo. 2 s. 6d. 
 This book is planned on a method similar to the ' Primer of Tennyson.' It has also 
 
 a glossary. 
 ' A valuable addition to the literature of the poet.' — Times. 
 ' An excellent short account.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 ' An admirable introduction.' — Globe. 
 
 L. Whibley. GREEK OLIGARCHIES : THEIR ORGANISA- 
 TION AND CHARACTER. By L. Whibley, M.A., Fellow 
 of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 1 An exceedingly useful handbook : a careful and well-arranged study of an obscure 
 subject.' — Times. 
 
 ' Mr. Whibley is never tedious or pedantic' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 W. B. Worsfold. SOUTH AFRICA : Its History and its Future. 
 By W. Basil Worsfold, M.A. With a Map. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 'An intensely interesting book.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 1 A monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.' — World. 
 
 A3 
 
1 8 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 C. H. Pearson. ESSAYS AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. By 
 C. H. Pearson, M.A., Author of ' National Life and Character.' 
 Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by H. A. Strong, M.A., 
 LL.D. With a Portrait. Demy %vo. ior. 6d. 
 
 'These fine essays illustrate the great breadth of his historical and literary sym- 
 pathies and the remarkable variety of his intellectual interests.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 ' Remarkable for careful handling, breadth of view, and thorough knowledge.'— Scots- 
 man. 
 
 ' Charming essays.' — Spectator. 
 
 Ouida. VIEWS AND OPINIONS. By Ouida. Crown%vo. 
 Second Edition. 6s. 
 ' Ouida is outspoken^ and the reader of this book will not have a dull moment. The 
 book is full of variety; and sparkles with entertaining matter/ — Speaker. 
 
 J. S. Shedlock. THE PIANOFORTE SONATA: Its Origin 
 and Development. By J. S. Shedlock. Crown $vo. $s. 
 
 ' This work should be in the possession of every musician and amateur, for it not 
 only embodies a concise and lucid history ot the origin of one of the most im- 
 portant forms of musical composition, but, by reason of the painstaking research 
 and accuracy of the author's statements, it is a very valuable work for reference.' 
 — A theneeum. 
 
 E.M. Bowden. THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA: Being Quota- 
 tions from Buddhist Literature for each Day in the Year. Compiled 
 by E. M. Bowden. With Preface by Sir Edwin Arnold. Third 
 Edition. l6mo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 J. Beever. PRACTICAL FLY-FISHING, Founded on 
 Nature, by John Beever, late of the Thwaite House, Coniston. A 
 New Edition, with a Memoir of the Author by W. G. Collingwood, 
 M.A. Crown Svo. 3*. 6d. 
 A little book on Fly-Fishing by an old friend of Mr. Ruskin. 
 
 Science 
 
 Freudenreicb.. DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual 
 for the Use of Students. By Dr. Ed. von Freudenreich. 
 Translated from the German by J. R. Ainsworth Davis, B.A., 
 F.C.P. Crown 8vo. is. fid. 
 
 Chalmers Mitchell. OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P. 
 Chalmers Mitchell, M.A., F.Z.S. Fully Illustrated. Crown 
 &vo. 6s. 
 A text-book designed to cover the new Schedule issued by the Royal College of 
 Physicians and Surgeons. 
 
 G.Massee. A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. By 
 
 George Massee. With 12 Coloured Plates. Royal %vo. i8j. net. 
 ' A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of this group of 
 organisms. It is indispensable to every student of the Myxogastres. The 
 coloured plates deserve high praise for their accuracy and execution.' — Nature. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 19 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 L. T. Hobhouse. THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By 
 L. T. Hobhouse, Fellow and Tutor of Corpus College, Oxford. 
 Demy %vo. 21 s. 
 
 1 The most important contribution to English philosophy since the publication of Mr. 
 Bradley's " Appearance and Reality." Full of brilliant criticism and of positive 
 theories which are models of lucid statement.* — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 * An elaborate and often brilliantly written volume. The treatment is one of great 
 
 freshness, and the illustrations are particularly numerous and apt.' — Times. 
 
 W. H. Fairbrother. THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. 
 
 By W. H. Fairbrother, M.A., Lecturer at Lincoln College, 
 
 Oxford. Crown &vo. 3J. 6d. 
 This volume is expository, not critical, and is intended for senior students at the 
 
 Universities and others, as a statement of Green's teaching, and an introduction to 
 
 the study of Idealist Philosophy. 
 1 In every way an admirable book. As an introduction to the writings of perhaps the 
 
 most remarkable speculative thinker whom England has produced in the present 
 
 century, nothing could be better than Mr. Fan-brother's exposition and criticism. ' — 
 
 Glasgow Herald, 
 
 F. W. BusselL THE SCHOOL OF PLATO : its Origin and 
 
 its Revival under the Roman Empire. By F. W. Bussell, M.A., 
 Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College, Oxford. DemySvo. \os.6d. 
 
 * A highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient thought.'— Glasgow Herald. 
 ' A clever and stimulating book, provocative of thought and deserving careful reading.' 
 
 — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 F. S. Granger. THE WORSHIP OF THE ROMANS. By 
 F. S. Granger, M.A., Litt.D., Professor of Philosophy at Univer- 
 sity College, Nottingham. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 The author has attempted to delineate that group of beliefs which stood in close con- 
 nection with the Roman religion, and among the subjects treated are Dreams, 
 Nature Worship, Roman Magic, Divination, Holy Places, Victims, etc Thus 
 the book is, apart from its immediate subject, a contribution to folk-lore and com- 
 parative psychology. 
 ■ A scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies.heliefs, and superstitions of ancient 
 Rome, conducted in the new instructive light of comparative anthropology.'— 
 Timts. 
 
20 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 Theology 
 
 E. C. S. Gibson. THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE 
 CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edited with an Introduction by E. 
 C S. Gibson, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, late Principal of Wells 
 Theological College. In Two Volumes. Demy $vo. *]s. 6d. each. 
 Vol. I. Articles I.- VIII. 
 
 1 The tone maintained throughout is not that of the partial advocate, but the faithful 
 exponent. ' — Scotsman. 
 
 1 There are ample proofs of clearness of expression, sobriety of judgment, and breadth 
 of view. . . . The book will be welcome to all students of the subject, and its sound, 
 definite, and loyal theology ought to be of great service.' — National Observer. 
 
 ' So far from repelling the general reader, its orderly arrangement, lucid treatment, 
 and felicity of diction invite and encourage his attention.' — Yorkshire Post. 
 
 R. L. Ottley. THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. 
 
 By R. L. Ottley, M.A., late fellow of Magdalen College, Oxon., 
 
 Principal of Pusey House. In Two Volumes. DemySzto. i$s. 
 ' Learned and reverent : lucid and well arranged.' — Record. 
 'Accurate, well ordered, and judicious.' — National Observer. 
 ' A clear and remarkably full account of the main currents of speculation. Scholarly 
 
 precision . ._ . genuine tolerance . . . intense interest in his subject — are Mr. 
 
 Ottley's merits. — Guardian. 
 
 S. K. Driver. SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED 
 WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT. By S. R. Driver, D.D., 
 Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew in the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 ' A welcome companion to the author's famous ' Introduction.' No man can read these 
 discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully alive to the deeper teaching of 
 the Old Testament.' — Guardian. 
 
 T. K. Cheyne. FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITI- 
 CISM : Biographical, Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By T. K. 
 Cheyne, D.D., Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scrip- 
 ture at Oxford. Large crown %vo. Js. 6d. 
 
 This important book is a historical sketch of 0. T. Criticism in the form of biographi- 
 cal studies from the days of Eichhorn to those of Driver and Robertson Smith. 
 It is the only book of its kind in English. 
 
 1 A very learned and instructive work.' — Times. 
 
 C.H.Prior. CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C. H. Prior, 
 M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Pembroke College. Crown Szto. 6s. 
 
 A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by various 
 preachers, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop Westcott. 
 
 1 A representative collection. Bishop Westcott's is a noble sermon.'— Guardian, 
 
 H. C. Beeching. SERMONS TO SCHOOLBOYS. By H. C. 
 Beeching, M.A., Rector of Yattendon, Berks. With a Preface by 
 Canon Scott Holland. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 Seven sermons preached before the boys of Eradfield College. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 21 
 
 E. B. Layard. RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the 
 Religious Training of Boys. With a Preface by J. R. Illing- 
 worth. By E. B. Layard, M.A. iSmo. is. 
 
 2Defcottonal Boofeg. 
 
 With Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. Svo. Buckram, y. 6d. 
 Padded morocco, <,s. 
 
 THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By Thomas a Kempis. 
 With an Introduction by Dean Farrar. Illustrated by C. M. 
 Gere, and printed in black and red. Second Edition. 
 1 Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the " Imitation," there can have 
 been few which were prettier than this one, printed in strong and handsome type 
 by Messrs. Constable, with all the glory of red initials, and the comfort of buckram 
 binding.' — Glasgow Herald. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By JOHN Keble. With an Intro- 
 duction and Notes by W. Lock, M. A., Sub- Warden of Keble College, 
 Ireland Professor at Oxford, Author of the ' Life of John Keble.' 
 Illustrated by R. Anning Bell. 
 
 1 The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be expected from 
 Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances of its composition are detailed in the 
 Introduction. There is an interesting Appendix on the MSS. of the "Christian 
 Year," and another giving the order in which the poems were written. A " Short 
 Analysis of the Thought" is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is ex- 
 plained in a note. — Guardian. 
 
 ' The most acceptable edition of this ever-popular work.' — Globe. 
 
 Leaders of Religion 
 
 Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A With Portraits, crown Svo. 
 
 A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders / S" 
 
 of religious life and thought of all ages and countries. O / Q 
 
 The following are ready— kJ/ 
 
 CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. Htjtton. 
 JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. Overton, M.A. 
 BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. Daniel, M.A. 
 CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. Htjtton, M.A. 
 CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. Motjle, M.A. 
 JOHN KEBLE. By Walter Lock, M.A. 
 THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. Oliphant. 
 LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. Ottley, M.A. 
 
22 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 augustine of canterbury. by e. l. cutts, d.d. 
 william laud. by w. h. hutton, m.a 
 
 JOHN KNOX. By F. M'CUNN. 
 JOHN HOWE. By R. F. HORTON, D.D- 
 BISHOP KEN. By F. A. CLARKE, M.A. 
 GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. Hodgkin, D.C.L. 
 Other volumes will be announced in due course. 
 
 Fiction 
 
 SIX SHILLING NOVELS 
 
 Marie Corelli's Novels 
 
 Crown %vo. 6s. each. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. Fourteenth Edition. 
 
 VENDETTA Eleventh Edition. 
 
 THELMA Fourteenth Edition. 
 
 ARDATH. Tenth Edition. 
 
 THE SOUL OF LILITH. Ninth Edition. 
 
 WORMWOOD. Eighth Edition. 
 
 BARABBAS : A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. 
 
 Twenty-fifth Edition. 
 
 The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of the writing 
 have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and the conviction is forced on 
 us that even so exalted a subject cannot be made too familiar to us, provided it be 
 presented in the true spirit of Christian faith. The amplifications of the Scripture 
 narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this " Dream of the 
 World's Tragedy " is, despite some trifling incongruities, a lofty and not inade- 
 quate paraphrase of the supreme climax of the inspired narrative.' — Dublin 
 Review. 
 
 THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Twenty-ninth Edition. 
 
 A very powerful piece of work. . . . The conception is magnificent, and is likely 
 to win an abiding place within the memory of man. . . . The author has immense 
 command of language, and a limitless audacity. . . . This interesting and re- 
 markable romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of the day 
 is forgotten. ... A literary Dhenomenon . . novel, and even sublime.'— W. T. 
 Stead in the Review of Reviews. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 23 
 
 Anthony Hope's Novels 
 
 Crown Zvo. 6r. each. 
 THE GOD IN THE CAR. Seventh Edition. 
 
 1 A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible within our limit ; 
 brilliant, but not superficial ; well considered, but not elaborated ; constructed 
 with the proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers 
 to whom fine literary method is a keen pleasure ; true without cynicism, subtle 
 without affectation, humorous without strain, witty without offence, inevitably 
 sad, with an unmorose simplicity.'— The World. 
 
 A CHANGE OF AIR. Fourth Edition. 
 
 'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The characters are traced 
 with a masterly hand.' — Times. 
 
 A MAN OF MARK. Third Edition. 
 
 ' Of all Mr. Hope's books, " A Man of Mark " is the one which best compares with 
 "The Prisoner of Zenda." The two romances are unmistakably the work of the 
 same writer, and he possesses a style of narrative peculiarly seductive, piquant, 
 comprehensive, and — his own.' — National Observer, 
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. Third 
 Edition. 
 'It is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and pure. romance. The 
 outlawed Count is the most constant, desperate, and withal modest and tender of 
 lovers, a peerless gentleman, an intrepid fighter, a very faithful friend, and a most 
 magnanimous foe. In short, he is an altogether admirable, lovable, and delight- 
 ful hero. There is not a word in the volume that can give offence to the most 
 fastidious taste of man or woman, and there is not, either, a dull paragraph in it. 
 The book is everywhere instinct with the most exhilarating spirit of adventure, 
 and delicately perfumed with the sentiment of all heroic and honourable deeds of 
 history and romance.' — Guardian. 
 
 S. Baring Gould's Novels 
 
 Crown Svo, 6s. each. 
 
 1 To say that a book is by the author of * ' Mehalah " isto imply that it contains a 
 story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic 
 descriptions of Nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.'— Speaker. 
 ' That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that 
 may be very generally accepted. His views of life are fresh and vigorous, his 
 language pointed and characteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are 
 striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though somewhat excep- 
 tional people, are drawn and coloured with artistic force. Add to this that his 
 descriptions of scenes anc scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled 
 hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull, and under 
 such conditions it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence both in his 
 power of amusing and satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity 
 widens.* — Court Circular. 
 
 ARMINELL : A Social Romance. Fourth Edition. 
 TJRITH : A Story of Dartmoor. Fourth Edition. 
 
 * The author is at his best,'— Times. 
 
 1 He has nearly reached the high water-mark of " Mehalah. —National Observer* 
 
24 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. Fifth Edition. 
 
 1 One of the best imagined and most enthralling stories the author has produced. 
 — Saturday Review. 
 
 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' A novel of vigorous humour and sustained power.' — Graphic. 
 ' The swing of the narrative is splendid.'— Sussex Daily News. 
 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA. Third Edition. 
 
 1 A powerful drama of human passion.' — Westminster Gazette. 
 'A story worthy the author.' — National Observer. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fourth Edition. 
 
 'The scenery is admirable, and the dramatic incidents are most striking.' — Glasgow 
 
 Herald. 
 ' Strong, interesting, and clever.' — Westminster Gazette* 
 'You cannot put it down until you have finished it.' — Punch. 
 1 Can be heartily recommended to all who care for cleanly, energetic, and interesting 
 
 fiction.' — Sussex Daily News. 
 
 KITTY ALONE. Fourth Edition. 
 
 ' A strong and original story, teeming with graphic description, stirring incident, 
 and, above all, with vivid and enthralling human interest.' — Daily Telegraph. 
 
 * Brisk, clever, keen, healthy, humorous, and interesting.' — National Observer. 
 ' Full of quaint and delightful studies of character.' — Bristol Mercury. 
 
 NO&MI : A Romance of the Cave-Dwellers. Illustrated by 
 
 R. Caton Woodville. Third Edition. 
 
 " Noemi " is as excellent a tale of fighting and adventure as one may wish to meet. 
 All the characters that interfere in this exciting tale are marked with properties 
 of their own. The narrative also runs clear and sharp as the Loire itself.' — 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 'Mr. Baring Gould's powerful story is full of the strong lights and shadows and 
 vivid colouring to which he has accustomed us.' — Standard. 
 
 THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated by Frank Dadd. 
 Third Edition. 
 
 * A strain of tenderness is woven through the web of his tragic tale, and its atmosphere 
 
 is sweetened by the nobility and sweetness of the heroine's character.' — Daily News. 
 'A story of exceptional interest that seems to us to be better than anything he has 
 
 written of late.' — Speaker. ' A powerful and striking story." — Guardian. 
 
 'A powerful piece of work.' — Black and White. 
 
 Gilbert Parker's Novels 
 
 Crown %vo. 6s. each. 
 PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. Third Edition. 
 
 'Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is strength and genius in Mr. 
 Parker s style.'— Daily Telegraph. 
 
Messrs Methuen's List 25 
 
 MRS. FALCHION. Third Edition. 
 
 1 A splendid study of character.' — Athcn&um. 
 
 * But little behind anything that has been done by any writer of our time. '—Pall 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 ' A very striking and admirable novel.' — St. James's Gazette. 
 
 THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 
 
 ' The plot is original and one difficult to work out ; but Mr. Parker has done it with 
 great skill and delicacy. The reader who is not interested in this original, fresh, 
 and well-told tale must be a dull person indeed.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ' A strong and successful piece of workmanship. The portrait of Lali, strong, 
 dignified, and pure, is exceptionally well drawn. ' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Fourth Edition. 
 
 'Everybody with a soul for romance will thoroughly enjoy "The Trail of the 
 Sword." 'St. James's Gazette. 
 
 * A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like this, in which swords flash, great sur- 
 
 prises are undertaken, and daring deeds dona, in which men and women live and 
 love in the old straightforward passionate way, is a joy inexpressible to the re- 
 viewer, brain-weary of the domestic tragedies and psychological puzzles of every- 
 day fiction ; and we cannot but believe that to the reader it will bring refreshment 
 as welcome and as keen/ — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC : The Story of 
 a Lost Napoleon. Third Edition. 
 ' Here we find romance — real, breathing, living romance, but it runs flush with our 
 own times, level with our own feelings. Not here can we complain of lack of 
 inevitableness or homogeneity. The character of Valmond is drawn unerringly ; 
 his career, brief as it is, is placed before us as convincingly as history itself. The 
 book must be read, we may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to appreciate 
 Mr. Parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with humanity.' — Pall Mall 
 Gazette. 
 ' The one work of genius which 189s has as yet produced. — New Age. 
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: The Last Adven- 
 tures of ' Pretty Pierre.' 
 
 ' The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great North, and it will 
 add to Mr. Parker's already high reputation.'— Glasgow Herald. 
 
 ' The new book is very romantic and very entertaining — full of that peculiarly 
 elegant spirit of adventure which is so characteristic of Mr. Parker, and of that 
 poetic thrill which has given him warmer, if less numerous, admirers than even 
 his romantic story-telling gift has done.' — Sketch. 
 
 THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illustrated. Fourth 
 
 Edition. 
 ' The best thing he has done ; one of the best things that any one has done lately.'— 
 1 St. James's Gazette. .... . , . „ , 
 
 ' Mr Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious novel that he 
 attempts. . . . In " The Seats of the Mighty " he shows the matured power which 
 
 his former novels have led us to expect, and has produced a really fine historical 
 novel. . . . The great creation »f the book is Doltaire. ... His character is 
 
 drawn with quit, masterly strokes, for he is a villain who is not altogether a villain, 
 and who attracts the reader, as he did the other characters, by the extraordinary 
 brilliance »f his gifts, and by the almost unconscious acts of nobility which he 
 performs. . . . Most sincerely is Mr. Parker to be congratulated on the finest 
 
 novel he has yet written.'— A thetueum. 
 
26 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 1 Mr. Parker's latest book places him in the front rank of living novelists. " The 
 Seats of the Mighty" is a great book.' — Slack and White. 
 
 1 One of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure that we have read 
 for many a day. . . . Through all Mr. Parker moves with an assured step, whilst 
 in his treatment of his subject there is that happy blending of the poetical with the 
 prosaic which has characterised all his writings. A notable and successful book.' 
 — Speaker. 
 
 1 The story is very finely and dramatically told. ... In none of his books has his 
 imaginative faculty appeared to such splendid purpose as here. Captain Moray, 
 Alixe, Gabord , Vauban — above all, Doltaire — and, indeed, every person who takes 
 part in the action of the story are clearly conceived and finely drawn and indivi- 
 dualised. — Scotsman. 
 
 1 An admirable romance. The glory of a romance is its plot, and this plot is crowded 
 with fine sensations, which have no rest until the fall of the famous old city and 
 the final restitution of love. * — Pail Mall Gazette. 
 
 Conan Doyle. ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. Conan 
 
 Doyle, Author of 'The White Company/ 'The Adventures of 
 Sherlock Holmes,* etc. Fourth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 ' The book is, indeed, composed of leaves from life, and is far and away the best view 
 that has been vouchsafed us behind the scenes of the consulting-room. It is very 
 superior to ' ' The Diary of a late Physician. " ' — Illustrated London News. 
 
 Stanley Weyman, UNDER THE RED ROBE. By Stanley 
 
 Weyman, Author of e A Gentleman of France.' "With Twelve Illus- 
 trations by R. Caton Woodville. Eighth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of reading, and 
 which we put down with a pang that we cannot forget it all and start again.' — 
 Westminster Gazette. 
 
 ' Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance, from the first 
 page of which to the last the breathless reader is haled along. An inspiration of 
 " manliness and courage." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 t A delightful tale of chivalry and adventure, vivid and dramatic, with a wholesome 
 
 ^ modesty and reverence for the highest.' — Globe. 
 
 Mrs. Clifford. A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K 
 Clifford, Author of ' Aunt Anne,' etc. Second Edition. Crown 
 %vo. 6s, 
 ? The story is a very sad anti^a very beautiful one, exquisitely told, and enriched with 
 many subtle touches of wise and tender insight. It will, undoubtedly, add to its 
 author's reputation — already high — in the ranks of novelists.' — Speaker. 
 * We must congratulate Mrs. Clifford upon a very successful and interesting story, 
 told throughout with finish and a delicate sense of proportion, qualities which, 
 indeed, have always distinguished the best work of this very able writer.' — 
 Manchester Guardian. 
 
 Emily Lawless. HURRISH. By the Honble. Emily Law- 
 less, Author of ' Maelcho,' etc. Fifth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 A reissue of Miss Lawless' most popular novel, uniform with ' Maelcho.' 
 
 Emily Lawless. MAELCHO : a Sixteenth Century Romance. 
 By the Honble. Emily Lawless, Author of 'Grama,' 'Hurrish,' 
 etc. '*,■ Second Edition. "■■' Crown Bvo. 6s, 
 
 ' A really great book.' — Spectator. 
 
 1 There is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius. Good work is 
 commoner than it used to be, but the best is as rare as ever. All the more 
 gladly, therefore, do we welcome in " Maelcho" a piece of work of the first order, 
 which we do not hesitate to describe as one of the most remarkable literary 
 achievements of this generation. Miss Lawless is possessed of the very essence 
 of historical genius.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 27 
 
 J. H. Findlater. THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. 
 By Jane H. Findlater. Third Edition. Crown &uo. 6s. 
 
 ' A powerful and vivid story.' — Standard. 
 
 ' A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.' — Vanity Fair. 
 1 A work of remarkable interest and originality.' — National Observer. 
 ' A really original novel.' — Journal of Education. 
 
 * A very charming and pathetic tale. — Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 1 A singularly original, clever, and beautiful story.' — Guardian. 
 
 * " The Green Graves of Balgowrie " reveals to us a new Scotch writer of undoubted 
 
 faculty and reserve force.' — Spectator. 
 ' An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful.' — Black and White. 
 
 * Permeated with high and noble purpose. It is one of the most wholesome stories 
 
 we have met with, and cannot fail to leave a deep and lasting impression.' — 
 Newsagent. 
 
 E. F. Benson. DODO : A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F. 
 Benson. Sixteenth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 * A delightfully witty sketch, of society/ — Spectator. 
 
 1 A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.' — Speaker. 
 
 * By a writer of quite exceptional ability.' — Atheneeum. 
 ' Brilliantly written.* — World. 
 
 E. F. Benson. THE RUBICON. By E. F. Benson, Author of 
 
 * Dodo.' Fifth Edition. Crown cW. 6s. 
 1 Well written, stimulating, unconventional, and, in a word, characteristic.' — 
 
 Birmingham Post. 
 1 An exceptional achievement ; a notable advance on his previous work.' — National 
 
 Observer. 
 
 M. M. Dowie. GALLIA. By M£nie Muriel Dowie, Author 
 of 'A Girl in the Carpathians.' Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant, the situations 
 surprising in their freshness and originality, while the subsidiary as well as the 
 principal characters live and move, and the story itself is readable from title-page 
 to colophon.' — Saturday Review. 
 
 * A very notable book ; a very sympathetically, at times delightfully written book. 
 
 — Daily Graphic. 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant. SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By Mrs. 
 Oliphant. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 1 Full of her own peculiar charm of style and simple, subtle character-painting comes 
 her new gift, the delightful story before us. The scene mostly lies in^ the moors, 
 and at the touch of the authoress a Scotch moor becomes a living thing, strong, 
 tender, beautiful, and changeful.'— Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Mrs. Oliphant. THE TWO MARYS. By Mrs. Oliphant. 
 Seccnd Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
 
 "W.E-Norris. MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. Norris, Author 
 of Mademoiselle de Mersac,' etc Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' "Matthew Austir " may safely be pronounced one of the most intellectually satis- 
 factory and morally bracing novels of the current yesur.'—Daify Telegraph. 
 
 W. E. Norris. HIS GRACE. By W. E. Norris. Third 
 
 Edition. Crown SW. 6s. 
 ' Mr Norris has drawn a really fine character in the Duke of Hurstbourne, at once 
 unconventional and very true to the conventionalities of life, weak and strong in 
 a breath, capable of inane follies and heroic decisions, yet not so definitely por- 
 trayed as to relieve a reader of the necessity of study.'— Athetutum. ■ 
 
28 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 W. E. Norris. THE DESPOTIC LADY^AND" OTHERS.. 
 By W. E. Norris. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ' A budget of good fiction of which no one will tire.' — Scotsman.^ _ 
 
 1 An extremely entertaining volume — the sprightiiest of holiday companions.'— 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 H. G. Wells. THE STOLEN BACILLUS," and other Stories. 
 By H. G. Wells, Author of 'The Time Machine.' *"" Crown 
 %vo. 6s. 
 1 The ordinary reader of fiction may be glad to know that these stories are eminently 
 readable from one cover to the other, but they are more than that ; they are the 
 impressions of a very striking imagination, which, it would seem, has a great deal 
 within its reach.' — Saturday Review. 
 
 Arthur Morrison. TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By Arthur 
 Morrison. Fourth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 1 Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. He tells a plain, unvarnished 
 tale, and the very truth of it makes for beauty. In the true humanity of the book 
 lies its justification, the permanence of its interest, and its indubitable triumph,' — 
 A thetuzum. 
 
 * A great book. The author's method is amazingly effective, and produces a thrilling 
 
 sense of reality. The writer lays upon us a master hand. The book is simply 
 appalling and irresistible in its interest. It is humorous also ; without humour 
 it would not make the mark it is certain to make.' — World. 
 
 J. Maclaxen Cobban. THE KING OF ANDAMAN : A 
 
 Saviour of Society. By J. Maclaren Cobban, Author. of 'The 
 Red Sultan,' etc. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 ' An unquestionably interesting book. It would not surprise us if it turns out to be 
 the most interesting novel of the season, for it contains one character, at least, 
 who has in him the root of immortality, and the book itself is ever exhaling the 
 sweet savour of the unexpected. . . . Plot is forgotten and incident fades, and 
 only the really human endures, and throughout this book there stands out in bold 
 and beautiful relief its high-souled and chivalric protagonist, James the Master 
 of Hutcheon, the King of Andaman himself.' — Pall Mall GazetU. 
 
 ' A most original and refreshing story. James Hutcheon is a personage whom it is 
 good to know and impossible to forget. He is beautiful within and without, 
 whichever way we take him.' — Spectator. 
 
 ' "The King of Andaman," is a book which does credit not less to the heart than 
 the head of its author.' — Atlteneevnt. 
 
 * The fact that Her Majesty the Queen has been pleased to graceful ly express to the 
 
 author of " The King of Andaman " her interest in his work will doubtless find 
 for it many readers.' — Vanity Fair. 
 
 H. Morrah. A SERIOUS COMEDY. By Herbert Morrah. 
 Crown %vo. 6s. 
 1 There are many delightful places in this volume, which is well worthy of its title. 
 The theme has seldom been presented with more freshness or more force.'— 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 L. B. Walford. SUCCESSORS TO THE T;TLE. By Mrs. 
 Walford, Author of ' Mr. Smith/ etc. Second Edition. Crown 
 %vo. 6s. 
 1 The story is fresh and healthy from beginning to finish ; and our liking for the two 
 simple people who are the successors to the title mounts steadily, and ends almost 
 in respect. —Scotsman. ' 
 ' The book is quite worthy to be ranked with many clever predecessors. It is ex- 
 cellent reading.'— Glasgow Herald. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 29 
 
 T. £ Paton." A HOME IN INVERESK. By T. L. Paton. 
 
 _y Crown $vo. 6s. 
 - ' A distinctly fresh and fascinating novel/ — Montrose Standard. 
 , ' A book which bears marks of considerable promise. ' — Scotsman. 
 
 1 A pleasant and well-written story." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 John Davidson. MISS ARMSTRONG'S AND OTHER CIR- 
 CUMSTANCES. By John Davidson. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 ^'Throughout the volume there is a strong vein of originality, a strength in the 
 \ handling, and a knowledge of human nature that are worthy of the highest praise.' 
 I — Scotsman. 
 
 J. B. Bnrton. IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J. 
 ^Bloundelle Burton, Author of 'The Hispaniola Plate,' etc. 
 J Crown $vo. 6s. 
 
 * Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic situations.' — Guardian. 
 
 * A well-written story, drawn from that inexhaustible mine, the time of Louis XIV. 
 j —Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 H. Johnston. DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By Henry 
 ) Johnston. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 * The story is redolent of humour, pathos, and tenderness, while it is not without a 
 
 touch of tragedy.' — Scotsman. 
 
 * A worthy and permanent contribution to Scottish creative literature.* — Glasgow 
 
 Herald. 
 
 Jnlian Corbett. A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. By 
 
 Julian Corbett, Author of ' For God and Gold,' * Kophetua 
 XHIth.,' etc. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 1 In this stirring story Mr. Julian Corbett has done excellent work, welcome alike 
 for its distinctly literary flavour, and for the wholesome tone which pervades it. 
 Mr. Corbett writes with immense spirit, and the book is a thoroughly enjoyable 
 one in all respects. The salt of the ocean is in it, and the right heroic ring re- 
 sounds through its gallant adventures.' — Speaker. 
 
 C. Phillips Woolley. THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. A Tale 
 of Adventure. By Clive Phillips Woolley, Author of ' Snap,' 
 Editor of ' Big Game Shooting.' Illustrated. Crown &vo. 6s. 
 'A book which will delight boys: a book which upholds the healthy schoolboy code 
 
 of morality.' — fsotsman. 
 ' A brilliant book. Dick St. Clair, of Caithness, is an almost ideal character— a com- 
 bination of the mediaeval knight and the modern pugilist." — Admiralty and Horse- 
 guards Gazette. 
 
 Robert Barr. IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By Robert 
 Barr, Author of 'From Whose Bourne,' etc. Third Edition. 
 Crown %vo. 6s. 
 ' A book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital humour.'— Daily Chronicle. 
 
 * Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph whereof he has every reason to be proud.' — Pall 
 
 Mall Gazette. 
 
 L. Daintrey. THE KING OF ALBERIA A Romance of 
 the Balkans. By Laura Daintrey. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 ' Miss Daintrey seems to have an intimate acquaintance with the_ people and politics 
 of the Balkan countries in which the scene of her lively and picturesque romance 
 is laid. On almost every page we find clever touches of local colour which dif- 
 ferentiate her beok unmistakably from the ordinary novel of commerce. The 
 story is briskly told, and well conceived.'— Glasgow Herald. 
 
30 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 Mrs. Pinsent. CHILDREN OF THIS WORLD. By Ellen 
 F. Pinsent, Author of Jenny's Case.' Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' Mrs. Pinsent's new novel has plenty of vigour, variety, and good writing. There 
 are certainty of purpose, strength of touch, and clearness of vision.' — Atkeneeunt. 
 
 Clark Russell. MY DANISH SWEETHEART. -By W. 
 Clark Russell, Author of 'The Wreck of the Grosvenor,' etc. 
 Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 G. Manville Fenn. AN ELECTRIC SPARK. ByG. Manville 
 Fenn, Author of ' The Vicar's Wife, ' ' A Double Knot,' etc. Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 ' A simple and wholesome story.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 R. Pryce. TIME AND THE WOMAN. By RICHARD Pryce, 
 Author of ' Miss Maxwell's Affections,' ' The Quiet Mrs. Fleming,' 
 etc. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 * Mr. Fryce's work recalls the style of Octave Feuillet, by its clearness, conciseness, 
 its literary reserve.' — Athenaum. 
 
 Mrs. Watson. THIS MAN'S DOMINION. By the Author 
 of ' A High Little World.' Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Marriott Watson. DIOGENES OF LONDON and other 
 Sketches. By H. B. Marriott Watson, Author of 'The Web 
 of the Spider.' Crown %vo. Buckram. 6s. 
 ' By all those who delight in the uses of words, who rate the exercise of prose above 
 the exercise of verse, who rejoice in all proofs of its delicacy and its strength, who 
 believe that English prose is chief among the moulds of thought, by these 
 Mr. Marriott Watson's book will be welcomed.' — National Observer. 
 
 M. Gilchrist. THE STONE DRAGON. By Murray Gil- 
 christ. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s. 
 
 ' The author] r, faults are atoned for by certain positive and admirable merits. The 
 romances have not their counterpart in modern literature, and to read them is a 
 unique experience.' — National Observer. 
 
 E. Dickinson. A VICAR'S WIFE. By Evelyn Dickinson. 
 Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 E. M. Gray. ELSA. By E. M'Queen Gray. Crown %vo. 6s. 
 
 THREE-AND-SIXPENNY NOVELS 
 
 Crown 8vo. 
 
 DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. By Edna Lyall. 
 MARGERY OF QUETHER. By S. Baring Gould. 
 JACQUETTA. By S. Baring Gould. 
 SUBJECT TO VANITY. By MARGARET BENSON; 
 THE MOVING FINGER. By Mary.Gaunt. 
 JACO TRELOAR. By J. H. Pearce. 
 
 3/6 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 31 
 
 AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. By X. L. 
 
 THE COMING OF CUCULAIN. A Romance of the Heroic 
 
 Age of Ireland. By Standish O'Grady. Illustrated. 
 THE GODS GIVE MY DONKEY WINGS. By Angus 
 
 Evan Abbott. 
 
 THE STAR GAZERS. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 THE POISON OF ASPS. By R. Orton Prowse. 
 
 THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By R. Pryce. 
 
 THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By F. Mabel Robinson. 
 
 DISENCHANTMENT. By F. Mabel Robinson. 
 
 MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. Mabel Robinson. 
 
 A LOST ILLUSION. By Leslie Keith. 
 
 A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By J. M. Cobban. 
 
 A DEPLORABLE AFFAIR. By W. E. Norris. 
 
 A CAVALIER'S LADYE. By Mrs. Dicker. 
 
 2/6 
 
 HALF-CROWN NOVELS 
 
 A Series of Novels by popular Authors. 
 i. HOVENDEN, V.C. By F. Mabel Robinson. 
 
 2. ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 3. A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 4. DISARMED. By M. Betham Edwards. 
 
 5. A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. Clark Russell. 
 
 6. IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. By the Author of ' Indian 
 
 Idylls.' 
 
 7. MY STEWARDSHIP. By E. M'Queen Gray. 
 
 8. JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. Norris. 
 
 9. JIM B. 
 
 Lynn Linton. THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVID- 
 SON, Christian and Communist. By E. Lynn Linton. Eleventh 
 Edition. Post Svo. is. 
 
 Books for Boys and Girls Olf) 
 
 A Series of Books by well-known Authors, well illustrated. *~r[ 
 
 1. THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By S. Baring Gould. 
 
 2. TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND CHING. By Edith 
 
 E. CUTHELL. 
 
32 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 3. TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. Blake. 
 
 4. ONLY A GUARD ROOM DOG. By Edith E. Cuthell. 
 
 5. THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By Harry Colling- 
 
 WOOD. 
 
 6. MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE. By W. Clark 
 
 Russell. 
 
 7. SYD BELTON : Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. 
 
 By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 3/6 
 
 The Peacock Library 
 
 A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, 
 handsomely bound in blue and silver, and well illustrated. 
 
 1. A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By L. B. Walford. 
 
 2. THE RED GRANGE. By Mrs. MoLESWORTH. 
 
 3. THE SECRET OF MADAME DE MONLUC. By the 
 
 Author of ' Mdle Mori.' 
 
 4. DUMPS. By Mrs. Parr, Author of 'Adam and Eve.' 
 
 5. OUT OF THE FASHION. By L. T. Meade. 
 
 6. A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By L. T. Meade. 
 
 7. HEPSY GIPSY. By L. T. Meade. 2s. 6d. 
 
 8. THE HONOURABLE MISS. By L. T. Meade. 
 
 9. MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 
 
 University Extension Series 
 
 A series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable 
 for extension students and home-reading circles. Each volume is com- 
 plete in itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a 
 broad and philosophic spirit. 
 
 Edited by J. E. SYMES, M.A., 
 
 Principal of University College, Nottingham. 
 
 Crown &vo. Price (with some exceptions) 2s. 6d. 
 
 The following volumes are ready : — 
 
 THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By H. DE 
 B. Gibbins, M.A., late Scholar of Wadham College, Oxon., Cobden 
 Prizeman. Fourth Edition. With Maps and Plans. 3s. 
 'A compact and clear story of our ndustrial development. A study of this concise 
 but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a clear insight into the principal 
 phenomena of our industrial history. The editor and publishers are to be congrat- 
 ulated on this first volume of their venture, and we shall look with expectant 
 interest for the succeeding volumes of the series.' — University Extension Journal. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 33 
 
 a history of english political economy. by 
 
 L. L. Price, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. Second Edition. 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial 
 Conditions of the Poor. By J. A. Hobson, M.A. Third Edition. 
 
 VICTORIAN POETS. By A. Sharp. 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By J. E. Symes, M. A 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. Granger, M.A., Lecturer in Philo- 
 sophy at University College, Nottingham. 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE : Lower Forms. By 
 G. Massee, Kew Gardens. With Illustrations. 
 
 AIR AND WATER. Professor V. B. Lewes, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By C. W. 
 Kimmins, M.A. Camb. Illustrated. 
 
 THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By V. P. Sells, M.A. 
 Illustrated. 
 
 ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. H. de B. Gibbins, M.A. 
 
 ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVEN- 
 TEENTH CENTURY. By W. A. S. Hewins, B.A. 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The Elementary Principles of 
 Chemistry. ByM. M. Pattison Muir, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By M. C. 
 Potter, M.A., F.L.S. Illustrated, y. 6d. 
 
 THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A Popular Introduction to 
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 METEOROLOGY. The Elements of Weather and Climate. 
 By H. N. Dickson, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. Illustrated. 
 
 A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By George 
 j. Burch, M.A. With numerous Illustrations. 3s. 
 
 THE EARTH. An Introduction to Physiography. By Evan 
 Small, . M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 INSECT LIFE. By F. W. Theobald, M.A. Illustrated. 
 
 ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING. By 
 W. M. Dixon, M.A. 
 
 ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By E. Jenks, M.A., 
 Professor of Law at University College, Liverpool. 
 
34 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 Social Questions of To-day 
 
 Edited by H. de B. GIBBINS, M.A. 
 
 Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 1/ 
 
 A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, ^L I \J 
 and industrial interest that are at the present moment fore- ' 
 
 most in the public mind. Each volume of the series is written by an 
 author who is an acknowledged authority upon the subject with which 
 he deals. 
 
 The following Volumes of the Series are ready : — 
 
 TRADE UNIONISM— NEW AND OLD. By G. Howell, 
 Author of ' The Conflicts of Capital and Labour.' Second Edition. 
 
 THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By G. J. 
 Holyoake, Author of ' The History of Co-operation. ' Second 
 Edition. 
 
 MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. J. Frome Wilkinson, M.A., 
 Author of ' The Friendly Society Movement.' 
 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial 
 Conditions of the Poor. By J. A. Hobson, M. A. Third Edition. 
 
 THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By C. F. BASTABLE, 
 M.A., Professor of Economics at Trinity College, Dublin. 
 
 THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. H. Wilkins, B. A., Secretary 
 to the Society for Preventing the Immigration of Destitute Aliens. 
 
 THE RURAL EXODUS. By P. Anderson Graham. 
 
 LAND NATIONALIZATION. By Harold Cox, B.A. 
 
 A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By H. DE B. Gibbins 
 and R. A. Hadfield, of the Hecla Works, Sheffield. 
 
 BACK TO THE LAND : An Inquiry into the Cure for Rural 
 Depopulation. By H. E. Moore. 
 
 TRUSTS, POOLS AND CORNERS : As affecting Commerce 
 and Industry. By J. Stephen Jeans, M.R.I., F.S.S. 
 
 THE FACTORY SYSTEM. By R. COOKE Taylor. 
 
 THE STATE AND ITS CHILDREN. By Gertrude 
 
 TUCKWELL. 
 
 WOMEN'S WORK. By Lady Dilke, Miss Bulley, and 
 Miss Whitley. 
 
Messrs. Methuen's List 35 
 
 MUNICIPALITIES AT WORK. The Municipal Policy of 
 Six Great Towns, and its Influence on their Social Welfare. By 
 Frederick Dolman. 
 
 SOCIALISM AND MODERN THOUGHT. By M. Katjf- 
 
 MANN. 
 
 THE HOUSING OF THE WORKING CLASSES. By R. 
 
 F. BOWMAKER. 
 
 MODERN CIVILISATION IN SOME OF ITS ECONOMIC 
 ASPECTS. By W. Cunningham, D. D. , Fellow of Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. 
 
 Classical Translations 
 
 Edited ky H. F. FOX, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose 
 College, Oxford. 
 
 Messrs. Methuen are issuing a New Series of Translations from the 
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 jESCHYLUS — Agamemnon, Choephoroe, Eumenides. Trans- 
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 CICERO— De Oratore I. Translated by E. N. P. Moor, M.A., 
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 CICERO — De Natura Deorum. Translated by F. Brooks, 
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 LUCIAN — Six Dialogues (Nigrinus, Icaro-Menippus, The Cock, 
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 SOPHOCLES— Electra and Ajax. Translated by E. D. A. 
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 Master at Winchester. 2s. 6d. 
 
 TACITUS — Agricola and Germania. Translated by R. B. 
 Townshend, late Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge. zs. 6d. 
 
36 Messrs. Methuen's List 
 
 Educational Books 
 
 CLASSICAL 
 TACITI AGRICOLA. With Introduction, Notes, Map, etc. 
 By R. F. Davis, M.A., Assistant Master at Weymouth College. 
 Crown 8z>o. 2s. 
 
 TACITI GERMANIA. By the same Editor. Crown 8w. is. 
 
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 SELECTIONS FROM THE ODYSSEY. By E. D. Stone, 
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 DEMOSTHENES AGAINST CONON AND CALLICLES. 
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 formerly Scholar of Queen's College, Oxford ; Assistant Master at 
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 GERMAN 
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