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 I PR 4503.C18P7 ""'"""">' '■""'"' 
 
 1 
 
 Poems. 
 
 3 1924 013 466 820 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013466820 
 
POEMS 
 
 GEORGE COOKSON 
 
 LONDON 
 
 A. D. INNES AND CO. 
 
 BEDFORD STREET 
 
 1897 
 
CNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON, 
 
MY FATHER 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 14 
 17 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OK A "DEAR GREEN HILL" . I 
 
 TO MY FATHER, WITH THE FOLLOWING LINES . 9 
 
 IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE . . . . . lo 
 
 LETTER TO EVELINE ..... 
 
 THE CROSS ...... 
 
 DIVINITUS ILLIS INGENIUM . . . . I9 
 
 KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM . . . .20 
 
 TO A YOUNG POET ..... 21 
 
 THE EGOIST . . . . . .22 
 
 ^(OtppotTVVT] ...... 23 
 
 THE world's TRIUMPHS . . . . .24 
 
 THE DYING YEAR ..... 25 
 
 NATURA ADEST . . . . . .26 
 
 INEXORABILE FATUM ..... 27 
 
 AT THE FOOT OF THE LEUCADIAN ROCK . . 28 
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT ..... 29 
 
 NATURA ALMA MATER . . . , . 30 
 
vi CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AFTER READING BLAKE . . . • 3' 
 
 RECONCILIATION . . . . . -32' 
 
 FEBRUARY ...... 33 
 
 A QUESTION . . . . . -34 
 
 HEREAFTER ...... 35 
 
 A. D. LILIAM . . . . . -36 
 
 NATURE AND THE DECADENT .... 37 
 
 TO A. M. F., APRIL 24, 1897 . . . '38 
 
 A VISION IN EXILE . . . • • 39 
 
 AN EGYPTIAN NIGHT . . . . . 40 
 
 A KHAMSEEN ...... 4I 
 
 REFUGIUM . . . . . . -42 
 
 THE TYRANNY OF TIME .... 43 
 
 BEAUTY AND TIME . . . . -44 
 
 YOU SHALL NOT FIND LOVE TILL DEATH COME . 45 
 
 love's FAITH . . . . . .46 
 
 love's DEBT ...... 47 
 
 A WISH . . . . . . -48 
 
 IN love's control ..... 49 
 
 A PRAYER . . . . . . -50 
 
 love's isolation ..... 51 
 
 love's hope . . . . . -52 
 
 MEMORY ...... 53 
 
 THE RIVER OF TIME . . . . -54 
 
 NOW WHILE O'ER WOOD AND LEA ... 56 
 
 WAS IT A SONG OR A SIGH . . . .57 
 
CONTENTS vii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O, TELL ME, LOVER, THY LOVE SO FAIR . . 58 
 
 THE LOVER AND THE MOONBEAM . . . 60 
 
 TO ...... 62 
 
 PANTOUM . . . . . . .63 
 
 O FAIR ARE WOODS THE SUNLIGHT FLOODS. . 64 
 
 O TELL ME WHERE THY LOVE DOTH DWELL . . 66 
 
 A WINTER SCENE ..... 68 
 
 TO ALBERT CHEVALLEY WITH A VOLUME OF WORDS- 
 WORTH . . . . . .69 
 
 THE SUMMER BREEZE ..... 70 
 
 "THE SOFT SOUTH WHITHER MY HEART IS SET" . 72 
 
 SONG ....... 74 
 
 TO MRS. C. D. HOMANS AFTER RECEIVING FROM HER A 
 
 COPY OF EMERSON'S ESSAYS . . . -75 
 
 O FOND FAIR FLOWER, GOOD-BYE TO-DAY . . 76 
 
 TO B. C. E., APRIL 27, 1897 . . . .78 
 
 CHALET MELEZES ..... 79 
 
 THE SERPENTINE DANCER . . . . 80 
 
 THE sea's SUMMONS ..... 81 
 
 THE SONG OF THE SEAGULL . . . -83 
 
 LOVE, A RED ROSE BLOWING .... 85 
 
 SAPPHO . . . . . . .86 
 
 THE PAST ...... 88 
 
 SONG BEFORE DEATH ' . . . .89 
 
 DESIDERIUM FIDELE . . . . . 90 
 
 WHAT ARE THE PILOT STARS THAT FIX THY GAZE . 9I 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 aspiration ...... 92 
 
 her beauty . . . . . -93 
 
 her immortality ..... 94 
 
 spring's gifts . .... 95 
 
 the hour divine ..... 97 
 
 now and hereafter . . . . .98 
 
 love's GRATITUDE ..... 99 
 
 PARTED LOVE . . . . .ICO 
 
 love's WISH ...... lOI 
 
 IN VAIN ....... 102 
 
 omnipresence ..... 103 
 
 far, far below between dark woodland gleaming i04 
 
IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OF A 
 "DEAR GREEN HILL" 
 
 I WOULD sing thee now a song of praise 
 For all the love thou hast given to me, 
 For all the light thou hast shed on my ways, 
 
 For the hopes and joys that were born of thee. 
 The grief and shadow is in my heart 
 Of the day of dole when I said we part, 
 Nor knew again when my eyes should gaze 
 On thy gentle green tranquillity. 
 
 I have said farewell for a space, how long 
 
 Fate that divides us alone can say, 
 But the love, thou gav'st in my heart is strong, 
 
 And shall be still to my latest day. 
 The love that stirs when my life is low. 
 The love that crowns my victorious brow. 
 Are mine thro' thee, and a lover's song 
 Is the gracious thanks my lips would pay. 
 
2 IN GRA TEFUL MEMOR Y OF 
 
 All thou hast done for my life I think 
 
 No words of mine shall have power to tell ; 
 
 If I seemed to stand at the Heaven's brink, 
 Or found it good upon earth to dwell, 
 
 The joy and the light of that chosen hour, 
 
 The scent and the bloom of its hidden flower. 
 
 Its delicate cup for my lips to drink. 
 Were mine thro' thee and thy beauty's spell. 
 
 There is no deed that my life would show, 
 
 There is no prayer I would fain fulfil, 
 But I have said for thy heart to know. 
 
 Alone with thee when the world was still. 
 My joys and sorrows and fruitful tears. 
 My hopes and shadows of perilous fears. 
 Thou hast known them all, and long ago 
 God gave me thee for a guiding will. 
 
 In the calm of the stars my footsteps came, 
 
 And I told my story for thee to hear ; 
 The grief of heart and the blinding shame. 
 
 The hidden wounds thou hast read them clear 
 The veils I have woven to hide my fire 
 From traitor's eyes, and my heart's desire, 
 Thou knowest alone and its holy name. 
 And where I shall find it, afar or near. 
 
A "DEAR GREEN HILL 3 
 
 Yea, I have found thee a mother mild, 
 With balm of kisses and loving arms, 
 
 To still the cries of a weary child, 
 
 And give him rest from his life's alarms. 
 
 Thou hast kissed my eyes into dreamless sleep, 
 
 And laid me safe in thy bosom deep. 
 
 Till I woke refreshed, and thy grave eyes smiled 
 Upon me healed of their healing charms. 
 
 I remember the day when I climbed thee last. 
 Thou wast clothed with cloud and smitten with 
 rain. 
 And I heard the voice of the pitiless blast 
 
 Through thy drenched dark pines that moaned 
 in pain. 
 And the grey and the gloom no gleam could break. 
 Was it sorrow's sign for a farewell's sake, 
 Or fate's sure seal of my soul's forecast, 
 That I might never stand there again ? 
 
 But let that be as the Fates decide. 
 
 Thy mourning garb was a joy to me, 
 I said in my heart with a splendid pride, 
 " This is for grief at our parting, see ! " 
 And lo, as in scorn and defiance bold 
 Of my thought, I saw the Heavens unrolled, 
 And with one broad beam the sun divide 
 The sadness worn for my destiny ! 
 
4 IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OF 
 
 The clouds divide and the sun disclose 
 All thy form in his light displayed, 
 
 From thy crown of firs to the fern that grows 
 At thy utmost feet thou wast gold-arrayed. 
 
 And my heart went up in a fervent prayer, 
 
 And never before had you seemed so fair. 
 
 And all life's love in a moment rose, 
 And all his gifts at thy feet were laid. 
 
 The joy and the worth of all the hours 
 I had lived with thee, these seasons long, 
 
 Brake into blossom of radiant flowers 
 
 That cover the fields in a glorious throng. 
 
 And my spirit stood for a moment brief 
 
 Fluttered with sound as a single leaf. 
 
 As though I had heard thro' the Heaven's towers 
 The jubilant host of the stars in song. 
 
 Moments of hours that I held my best. 
 Ensphered themselves in this one supreme. 
 
 All that outshone and had made life blest. 
 With joys and fancies of fugitive gleam, 
 
 Wove themselves now in a garland fair, 
 
 A votive wreath of memories rare, 
 
 Whose every flower was a praise expressed, 
 A hope fulfilled, an abiding dream. 
 
A "DEAR GREEN HILL" 
 
 * 
 
 Moments of prayer when I felt I could 
 
 Offer me wholly body and soul 
 To God for His use, my bad and my good, 
 
 In perfect trust of His wise control. 
 Moments of power when I felt I might 
 Perform some deed that should prove my right 
 To be called a man, when I felt my blood. 
 
 Strain for the crown and the shining goal. 
 
 Moments of faith when I knew God's love 
 Had power to help on their worldly way. 
 
 My lovers and friends, wherever they move. 
 And be with them till their latest day. 
 
 Yea, be with them despite time and chance. 
 
 And, triumphing over circumstance. 
 
 Abide in their hearts, so they shall prove 
 
 Fair flowers of the earth, and be loved as they. 
 
 Moments of peace when the weary days, 
 
 Man makes for man were forgotten quite, 
 When only the ordered and silent ways 
 Of Nature came to my grateful sight. 
 When alone in thy patient pasture land. 
 Like a lover I felt thee hold my hand. 
 And fill my soul with thy mercy and grace. 
 And the tender peace of thy green and light. 
 
6 IN GRATEFUL MEMORY OF 
 
 Yea, all of these from thy nurture grew, 
 
 And the blessed uses of solitude ; 
 'Tis a lifelong debt that I owe to you, 
 
 O sacred circle of all my good ! 
 
 silent hill where I strove to find 
 The knowledge sure of the equal mind, 
 That knows the things that a man must do. 
 
 The springs of life, and its holy food ! 
 
 When the moonlight fell on thy sides like sleep. 
 And the landscape glimmered to left and right, 
 
 1 lay alone with the nibbling sheep, 
 
 And watched the stars in the Heaven's height. 
 And learned of thee what must be endured 
 If a soul would stand of itself assured 
 In the day of darkness, and steadfast keep 
 
 For souls of others a guiding light. 
 
 There is yet a word that I have not said, 
 
 A charmed secret I have not spoke. 
 Round which my life is as surely wed 
 
 As the ivy plant to the wintered oak. 
 The lives upon earth that are life to me. 
 Whose names are a sweetest melody, 
 Thou knowest alone, and thy blessing is shed 
 About their brows like a crown of gold. 
 
A "DEAR GREEN HILL" 7 
 
 When the stars were bright, or the morning shone, 
 Thou hast heard my wish for them o'er and o'er, 
 " God's blessing rest over every one, 
 
 His love upon each like sunshine pour." 
 All the dream and dread of my life. 
 The aspiring hope and the anxious strife, 
 In that one prayer, which thou knowest alone, 
 And never a man to thee said before. 
 
 My lovers and friends I have clothed them there, 
 With goodly raiment and things of grace, 
 
 I have woven wreaths for their shining hair. 
 And scattered flowers on their eyes and face. 
 
 In the early silence alone with thee, 
 
 (Thy love as a banner over me), 
 
 I have asked for each in a passionate prayer. 
 Bountiful blessings of beauty and praise. 
 
 And now farewell, and again farewell, 
 
 Thou wilt pardon the words that are weak to 
 say, 
 The deathless love that my lips would tell, 
 
 Knowing my heart is not cold as they. 
 Knowing that still through the changing years, 
 With all my loves, and my joys, and tears, 
 I shall turn to thee, and with thee shall dwell, 
 In calm night watches and dreams of day. 
 
IN GRATEFUL MEMORY 
 
 Yea, with the burden of all my hours, 
 
 I shall turn to thee for a solace sweet, 
 For rain to revive my ruined flowers. 
 
 For balm to anoint my bruised feet. 
 Though I fare afar in another clime, 
 Still, still thou art mine to the end of time, 
 The magnetic centre of all my powers. 
 The passionate place for them all to meet. 
 
TO MY FATHER, WITH THE 
 FOLLOWING LINES 
 
 These verses, Father, pray accept from me. 
 For thou hast had the glorious lot to fight 
 For England in her ships as he whose might 
 
 I sing, and though I cannot claim with thee 
 
 So proud a kinship with him and the sea. 
 At least I fain would have thee feel I can 
 Finely aspire remembering this man. 
 
 And win from him some vigour it may be. 
 
 So take the verse howe'er inadequate, 
 
 And ask while thou dost stand on the sea-shore. 
 Beside our home, in hearing of the roar 
 
 Of waves, that I with mine own blood may mate 
 Some of his strength and in my little part 
 Strive to serve England after his own heart. 
 
IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE 
 
 O'er the great trafficked square, 
 Cleaving the murky air, 
 The column rises, on whose eminent height 
 Stands up the man of all, 
 England best loves to call 
 Her own ; who from the fervent heat and light 
 Of his large heart kept her from shame. 
 And made a greater story of her name. 
 
 There where his eyes can see 
 The men he hath kept free ; 
 Where life is loud and like the surging tide 
 Of sea waves clamouring. 
 Whereof he is lord and king ; 
 Where he may watch in calm and loyal pride 
 His dearest city greater grown, 
 With spoil of nations he hath overthrown. 
 
IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE ii 
 
 How could we ever brook 
 On his high place to look 
 Again, if England sufifered shame or wrong ? 
 Is he not there to keep 
 Our hearts from numbing sleep, 
 And sound his signal like a battle song 
 Yet in our ears, till we are stirred 
 Again to victory by his godlike word ? 
 
 Shall not his memory 
 Keep us for ever free. 
 Because we dare not sully his great name, 
 Shall not his spirit live 
 Still in our souls and give 
 Strength to our hearts and hands to shield from 
 shame, 
 The flag he made of so great might 
 Among the nations in the flame of fight ? 
 
 From our dim place below. 
 In turmoil and in flow 
 Of hurried feet we raise considerate eyes 
 To his supreme estate. 
 And ill and fear and hate, 
 Cease in our hearts their sullen masteries, 
 And in the worship of him then 
 Our little hearts grow great and we are men. 
 
12 IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE 
 
 As though for us again 
 His signal sounded plain 
 Through all the fleet in that memorial bay, 
 And unto us were brought 
 Again his solemn thought, 
 "In my hand England puts herself to-day " ; 
 And from his spirit we still drew 
 The might wherewith he clashed and overthrew. 
 
 For each of us who reads 
 The story of his deeds. 
 Feels his hot blood to bound, his sinews grow. 
 Knowing our spirit can 
 Win something of the man 
 He was, for our own task of high or low ; 
 And thrilled with strength of his great soul. 
 We go to seek a far-heroic goal. 
 
 And his great name shall be 
 Of those the first, whom we 
 Uplift with heart and voice for their great deeds ; 
 One name above all names. 
 For our deep love's acclaims, 
 One name wherein God answered England's needs 
 And showed her greatest of all lands 
 Through him, putting her life into his hands. 
 
IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE 13 
 
 The memory of him, 
 In heart, and mind, and limb, 
 Shall keep us strong, and sound still in our ears, 
 Lest we should once forget 
 The crown of fire he set 
 On England's brows to wear for all the years ; 
 Yea, she shall wear it and still be, 
 England the queen of the triumphant sea. 
 
LETTER TO EVELINE 
 
 Here often doth my eager spirit try 
 
 To quit the clinging grasp of clay, and fly 
 
 Among the stars, and radiant thoughts possess 
 
 My heart a moment, and, O bitterness. 
 
 Leave me again, knowing I cannot bear 
 
 To breathe the spaces of the keener air, 
 
 Their tireless wings would seek. Ah, sister, mine 
 
 It is to see the golden goblet shine. 
 
 And never taste the purple-hearted wine ! 
 
 Yet now that we are separate, and days 
 
 Are over when I daily saw your face, 
 
 I am impelled to say in feeble verse. 
 
 What I was wont to silently rehearse 
 
 To you, when we on some still autumn eve 
 
 Watched the pale sunset smile, and slowly leave 
 
 The stubble fields, when hand in hand I knew 
 
 All my dear fancies understood by you. 
 
 And cared not if they were expressed or not. 
 
 Knowing the silent interchange of thought. 
 
 Through feeling, better than all words. But now 
 
LETTER TO EVELINE 15 
 
 Your soothing hand is taken from my brow, 
 
 Your fingers touch not tenderly my hair, 
 
 Your blue eyes cannot melt my hard despair. 
 
 Your sweet mouth cannot kiss away my care, 
 
 And so to ease me I am forced to sing. 
 
 That I may find in midst of sorrowing 
 
 A little of the joy your love could bring. 
 
 And, since, dear sister, you are in the land 
 
 That nursed my youth, and made me understand 
 
 Beauty and love and all the natural things, 
 
 A poet in his contemplation sings, 
 
 I pray you on some afternoon to go 
 
 Unto the dear green hill our footsteps know ; 
 
 And there upon its top, anigh the crown 
 
 Of stately fir-trees you must stand alone, 
 
 And greet the quiet green, and ask for me 
 
 The blessing of its deep tranquillity. 
 
 The old hill knows full well the debt I owe 
 
 For mercies shed upon me long ago, 
 
 So I would have you thankful greetings give. 
 
 For vital benefits that still do live 
 
 Within my heart ; and you must utter there 
 
 For those I love, whose names you know, the prayer 
 
 I oft repeated you ; when this is done, 
 
 Let your eyes wander where the setting sun 
 
 Gildeth the Severn broadening to the sea, 
 
 And in that beauty set your fancies free. 
 
1 6 LETTER TO EVELINE 
 
 Let the blue girdle of the low Welsh hills 
 
 Lure your soul thither, while strange love fulfils 
 
 Your life, and dims your eyes with mist of tears. 
 
 And yearning for the dreams of bygone years ; 
 
 Or float in vision down the shining coast. 
 
 Till in the vast Atlantic you are lost. 
 
 Sailing to find the islands of the blest. 
 
 Where you shall have long love and dreamful rest 
 
 Then from the deep suggestion of the West 
 
 Recall yourself, and cast your gaze below. 
 
 Where the great city in tumultuous flow. 
 
 Beats out her life, and you for me must ask 
 
 A blessing on each man at his own task, 
 
 That labours there, for thus was borne to me, 
 
 " The still sad music of humanity." 
 
 And the calm hill taught me to sympathise 
 
 With all the many acted tragedies, 
 
 That pall of smoke hides from the watcher's eyes. 
 
 You will behold the lurid furnace glow. 
 
 That weary men must feed, who cannot know 
 
 The things that make life fair, and God seem near 
 
 Pray you for them, it may be He will hear. 
 
 And as your footsteps turn to take farewell. 
 
 Pluck up three blades of grass and send them me, 
 
 That I may have a token that may tell 
 
 Of the green place I wandered oft with thee. 
 
 The garden of my boyhood's memory. 
 
I? 
 
 THE CROSS 
 
 High up among the pine-clothed hills there lies 
 
 A shelf of lawn, and on its grassy edge, 
 
 Fronting opponent mountains, stands a cross. 
 
 Rough-hewn and weather-worn, as if long years 
 
 It had withstood the beat of rain and wind. 
 
 On either side moss-bearded pines grow round. 
 
 And far below it sees the valley fair. 
 
 With fields of corn, white roads, and shining roofs, 
 
 Thither I came one summer afternoon 
 
 And lay among the tangled flowers that blow 
 
 About its foot, and saw the meadows dream 
 
 Mantled in golden light, and overhead 
 
 Between the dark fir-tops the heavens hung blue. 
 
 I watched until the shadows from the rocks 
 
 Beyond sloped downward, and had clothed the 
 
 vale. 
 And gradually the gold was taken from 
 The lawn where stood the cross : for now the sun 
 Sank down behind dark mountain-walls, and left 
 The sky a sea of flame, until at last 
 
 3 
 
i8 THE CROSS 
 
 The warmth and colour from the land had gone, 
 And flowers were closing lips, and pine-woods 
 
 stood 
 A deeper darkness — all was changed — and I 
 Drew in the growing gloom into my blood, 
 And looked upon the rude and rain-worn cross. 
 A sense of sorrow grew therefrom, a sense 
 Of tears for many hands that clasped and prayed ; 
 For as it stood, gaunt in the gathering night, 
 It seemed a voice to still my heart's regret 
 For sunlight passing from the quiet land. 
 And gave to me a deeper mood as half 
 In scorn of that wild joy, that would believe 
 All men were happy as the flower that takes 
 The sun and rain ; a voice that sadly told 
 In simple words of wisdom nerved with love. 
 Of weary lives who breathed out sorrows there. 
 And knelt and wept while all the land was bright. 
 For as the brooding darkness deeper fell 
 A presence of strange peace seemed watching 
 
 there, 
 Even he, who with sad, steadfast eyes through all 
 Experience sights the loom of larger woe. 
 And ever knows his sorrow-symbol clasped 
 With forward years, in deeper agonies 
 Of prayer, and wet with rain of wilder grief 
 
19 
 
 DIVINITUS ILLIS INGENIUM 
 
 The blue hills clasping round the Severn shore, 
 Seen through the arches of a gentle glade, 
 The still kine lying 'neath the broad oak shade 
 
 Lull me and lure me even as heretofore, 
 
 And I can watch and ponder o'er and o'er, 
 And know in joy I have not forfeit made 
 Of one communion, nor vainly prayed 
 
 That nature might inform me more and more. 
 
 Ah, then ! if looking on those pleated hills 
 My eyes are wet because my love is great, 
 Have not I. strength to carelessly await 
 
 The worst the world can give of vaunted ills ? 
 Are not its thrusts of scorn and bitter hate 
 
 Skin deep while such a love my being fills ? 
 
KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM 
 
 Yes, it is good to mix with many men, 
 
 And learn the diverse cravings of the heart. 
 To stand and bargain in the changing mart. 
 That is the balance of man's soul, and ken 
 The masterforce of circumstance and then 
 Track out the certain finish of each start, 
 And say to this or that, " Even as thou art 
 Another, used alike, shall be again." 
 So knowledge comes, but not its human use. 
 Would'st thou teach men and guide ? Then 
 
 know thy soul 
 Must stand ofttimes apart and let things roll. 
 Find thou some holy spot and put the shoes 
 From off thy feet and pray — did not Christ choose 
 Prayer on the mountain ere He touched men 
 whole ? 
 
31 
 
 TO A YOUNG POET 
 
 If once the seed is planted, let it grow ! 
 
 How shalt thou ever bear sound-hearted fruit 
 If thus thou pry and dig about the root? 
 
 True worth such self-distrust can never know. 
 
 But bids the storm and sunshine come and go, 
 Believing each appointed to fulfil 
 Their proper portion of the Planter's will. 
 
 And help the sure result that He would show. 
 
 Hope therefore in whatever comes thy way, 
 And in His ample bounty take thy mirth. 
 Nor think there is one holy spot of earth 
 
 Where thou alone canst grow, lest He should say, 
 
 " This promises no harvest any day," 
 
 And pluck thee up as weed of barren worth. 
 
THE EGOIST 
 
 " I'll give her of my inmost soul," he said. 
 " I love so utterly that she shall share 
 The vital impulse of the good I bear, 
 And all my finest fancies shall be wed 
 Subtly with hers, and all the knowledge bred 
 Of my sure insight shall be grafted there 
 Upon her tender boughs, till I am aware 
 Of my true self in her transfigured." 
 I heard his words and thought of a bleak glen. 
 Where, as I wandered through this very morn 
 I marked a lonely tree that was hawthorn. 
 But round whose base unto its roof above 
 The ivy clung with dark, unpitying love. 
 Heedless if May should never bloom again. 
 
I WOULD submit myself unto control, 
 
 Not from the prudence that men keep for gain, 
 Which shrinks from action for it fears the pain. 
 
 But rather in the hope that so my soul 
 
 Shall at the even reach a fairer goal. 
 Tuned to sweet harmonies that were not plain 
 Amid the rage of lusts that tear in twain 
 
 The will, and leave us with no purpose whole. 
 
 I hold not when desires have all outrun 
 
 Their course, and leave us lying maimed and 
 
 weak, 
 That then will flash the vision we would seek ; 
 
 That holy sign sure only can be won 
 
 By patient watching, then at setting sun 
 We may behold the clouds in glory break. 
 
24 
 
 THE WORLD'S TRIUMPHS 
 
 When should a young man truly sorrow most ? 
 
 Even when the world with swift-compelling 
 stream 
 
 Hurries him on with her and makes a dream 
 And emptiness of what was once his boast, 
 (Keeping him faithful at his chosen post), 
 
 And says his faith is following a gleam 
 
 Delusive, that doth mock and render him 
 A foiled wayfarer for a goal long lost ! 
 O bitterness of things that it is so ! 
 
 And sadder far, if when God pitying shows 
 A sign to hold him back that he may know 
 
 His loss, he heedless lets the vision close 
 Unused, of fields and hills that once were fair. 
 And daily welcomed him for worship there ! 
 
^5 
 
 THE DYING YEAR 
 
 Now ere the falling of thy latest breath, 
 Ere thou hast passed beyond our reach and call, 
 One brief thanksgiving from my lips shall fall, 
 
 And thou shalt hear me at the dawn of death 
 
 Bless thee for hours my soul remembereth. 
 With seas and sunlit fields and woods and rills, 
 With winds and sailing shadows on the hills, 
 
 And flowers in gardens where love whispereth. 
 
 Hark, for the bells clash out and thou art dead ! 
 How greet the New when all my heart's with 
 thee. 
 
 Whom all of fairest makes remembered. 
 
 And all of light and love and grace and glee. 
 
 And high desire thy holier moments bred, 
 Shines in the garland of thy memory ? 
 
26 
 
 NATURA ADEST 
 
 How oft I've sung of all about me now, 
 Lone in my study on a winter night, — 
 These meadows sleeping mantled in clear light, 
 
 This brook which at my feet, where alders grow. 
 
 Thro' smooth-paved cresses runs in music flow. 
 These bees which tumble in and out the flowers, 
 While insect voices lull the drowsy hours 
 
 And summer laden breezes fan my brow. 
 
 Yet now it seems I have no voice to tell 
 The grace of beauty that is over all, 
 
 For Nature with a deep and potent spell, 
 Sealeth my lips, and makes a very thrall 
 
 Of my full heart with love ineffable. 
 
 So that I can but in mute worship fall. 
 
27 
 
 INEXORABILE FATUM 
 
 I SAW in sleep the Goddess Destiny, 
 A crown of gold about her brows of might, 
 And eyes like placid pools wherein the light 
 
 Of pale blue winter skies is wan to see 
 
 In meadow lands and pastures watery ; 
 And all about her feet the lots were strewn, 
 And as blown foam-flakes underneath the moon 
 
 The souls of men ran choosing carelessly. 
 
 Silent and splendid from her seated place, 
 She looked upon the flitting forms below, 
 
 There came not any change across her face, 
 Thought had no language on her ample brow 
 
 Serene she saw how each for all his days 
 Stretched hands to gather happiness or woe 
 
28 
 
 AT THE FOOT OF THE LEUCA 
 DIAN ROCK 
 
 A VISION of a sea's slow heaving plain, 
 Streaming in aisles of moonlit glory bright, 
 A vision of tall cliffs that glimmer white 
 
 In ghostly range, and fade and shape again 
 
 A shadowed outline far as the eye can strain ; 
 A sound as of wind voices calling light, 
 That make low music in a cavern's night. 
 
 Where welling waters lisp a mild refrain. 
 
 A vision of thin seaweed clinging round 
 
 White limbs and throat yet whiter, moulded fair 
 A vision of dark floating streams of hair 
 
 That fondling waves with kisses have unbound, 
 A vision of pale lips that in despair 
 
 Kissed Death's and eased therefrom Love's parch 
 ing wound. 
 
29 
 
 A SUMMER NIGHT 
 
 One summer night I lay upon the shore, 
 Watching the plains of water heaving slow 
 Beneath the moon, in aisles of silver-flow ; 
 
 I saw the stars emerge from Ocean's floor 
 
 And dawn upon the world, and evermore 
 
 Beneath the cliffs glimmering in ghostly range, 
 Amid the moon-blanched rocks and caverns 
 strange, 
 
 I heard the falling wave's withdrawing roar. 
 
 I had no thoughts — merged in some larger mind 
 That ordered all there in the silent night, 
 
 The stars, the moon above the moving sea, 
 I seemed a child new born upon the light. 
 
 And into Nature's arms I sank resigned 
 
 Till I was one with her tranquillity. 
 
3° 
 
 NATURA ALMA MATER 
 
 P FOR a moment give me back those days, 
 When the first star emerging from the sea 
 Came like a lover's message unto me ; 
 
 O shed such consecration on my ways, 
 
 As once I knew dwelt in the pure moon's rays, 
 When on some lonely hill in silent prayer 
 I stood in worship of her beauty there, 
 
 While far below the vales were wrapt in haze. 
 
 O let me stand once more on mountain-ground 
 And hear thy voice in every passing wind. 
 
 And feel thy mighty arms enfold me round, 
 And from thy bosom wake in wiser mind. 
 
 To know my days without thee spent forlorn. 
 
 And all my soul world-wearied and outworn ! 
 
31 
 
 AFTER READING BLAKE 
 
 Blown by loud winds and girt with climbing fire, 
 I whirled amid the whirling of red stars, 
 And past me rushed fierce charioteers in cars, 
 
 Who shrieked from lips parched of mad desire, 
 
 And many moaning phantoms yet more dire 
 Called me with wailing voice thro' mist and 
 
 cloud ; 
 Down in deep pits I saw in crawling crowd 
 
 White leprous forms embracing in black mire. 
 
 I swooned, and woke again where sun lay bright 
 Upon a flowery meadow rich and fair ; 
 
 Near me a stream sang in a rippled flight 
 'Neath alder leaves, and all the languid air 
 Came faint with breath of flowers, and seemed to 
 bear 
 
 Glad music of Child-voices laughing light. 
 
32 
 
 RECONCILIATION 
 
 Here as I climbed the hill I love again; 
 
 And free winds blew, and clouds across the sky 
 
 Raced white, and dark upon the grass sailed by, 
 It seemed that Nature, with a sad disdain 
 And searching eyes of mute unspoken pain. 
 
 Read all the change less worthy days had wrought 
 
 In me, how I had moved in ways of thought 
 Less noble, which had written each their stain. 
 And so I climbed with anguish in my soul, 
 
 Awaiting what her wisdom should command, 
 And longed that she once more might touch me 
 whole ; 
 
 And then I knew her presence near me stand 
 And thrill my being with a sweet control, 
 
 And with a large forgiveness take my hand. 
 
33 
 
 FEBRUARY 
 
 With dark blue clouds the sky is garmented, 
 And underneath the river's face is pale, 
 Like to the moon's when seen behind a veil 
 
 Of fleecy vapour ; all the winds are dead, 
 
 And on the mist great elms are shadowed, 
 A formless blackness, for the quiet night 
 Begins to fall, and all that's left of light 
 
 The brimming river holds, soft-mirrored. 
 
 I watched and drew the stillness in like sleep, 
 And seemed to wander with the river on 
 Between the quiet fields, slow borne upon 
 
 Its placid breast, and learnt its story well ; 
 
 And many wondrous secrets it could tell, 
 
 And all the sorrows that the willows weep. 
 
34 
 
 A QUESTION 
 
 Here on this hill tree-crowned, which sees below 
 
 The lighted city stretching east and west, 
 
 I lie, deep-hidden in its broad green breast. 
 And to my ears with murmur'd ebb and flow 
 The panting of the city's labour throe 
 
 Mounts up, and through the night with fierce 
 unrest 
 
 Of those who tyrannise and those the opprest, 
 Throbs out in mingling accents weal and woe. 
 I look in vain for one large principle 
 
 To move the life which eddies at my feet ; 
 
 It roars and hurries in the crowded street 
 With loud confusion and tumultuous swell, 
 
 And were it asked, " What purpose to complete 
 Is all this toil's expense?" could any tell?, 
 
35 
 
 HEREAFTER 
 
 Here in this dark foul street a life went out 
 Which should have gone before, so tedious 
 Had the vexed watchers found their task, and 
 thus. 
 
 When the last flicker died, they well might doubt 
 
 The end indeed, though all with prayer devout 
 Thanked inwardly the moment when it came, 
 To quench for ever that low lingering flame. 
 
 Whose failing flares no love had watched about. 
 
 And must this soul God's awful beauty meet. 
 Who scarce had ever felt His large sunlight. 
 Nor seen th' unclouded heaven's arched height. 
 
 Whose brow no free winds kissed, whose hapless 
 feet 
 No grassy meadows trod with daisies bright, 
 
 Whose days were mated with one squalid street ? 
 
36 
 
 A. D. LILIAM 
 
 Ah ! yes, the sun is good, the grass is sweet 
 To lie on, and to watch from thence all day 
 The fleecy clouds that change and pass away ; 
 
 And good to hear the stream laugh at our feet. 
 
 Yes, with a true love-welcome you do greet 
 It all, O Lily, tired of feverish play. 
 And London, in whose homage all men pray 
 
 For shorter service, and each year repeat 
 The prayer in vain ! Ah ! yes, so tired it is, 
 
 The little heart, it fain would always rest 
 In some close sheltered valley such as this 
 
 And let the louder world move on unguessed ! 
 But ah, dear Lily, in a week, you know, 
 You'll sigh and say the country's very slow ! 
 
37 
 
 NATURE AND THE DECADENT 
 
 The wind made voiceful all the willow-trees 
 That bowed themselves about the level mere, 
 The waters laughed in myriad ripplings clear ; 
 
 White clouds in little knots of silken fleece 
 
 Ran riot ; busy murmurings of bees 
 Sang summer music in his tired ear, 
 And yet such beauty gave nor joy nor tear. 
 
 The decadent saw all, and had no ease — 
 He peered as if amid a gloom of night. 
 
 But when his drooping eyes had chanced to stray 
 Upon a fish's upturned stomach white. 
 
 Near which large frogs plied slimy loves all day. 
 His withered visage smiled with wan delight, 
 
 And his lank soul crawled out to kiss Decay. 
 
38 
 
 TO A. M. F., APRIL 24. 1897 
 
 Is there slow music falling from these skies, 
 Lulling the patient landscape into sleep ? 
 Doth Evening o'er the earth a vigil keep, 
 
 And with the words of winds for lullabies 
 
 Sing o'er her cradle like a mother wise, 
 
 And call the darkening fields to slumber deep, 
 Bidding blue veils of filmy vapour creep 
 
 With soft still pace across their closing eyes ? 
 
 What is the word the falling night would say 
 Unto us both, a poet's heart might spell ? 
 What word of peace, long-sought, inaudible. 
 
 Is there for me, who ask the dying day 
 
 For some last gift to crown as with a flower 
 The inviolable friendship of this hour ? 
 
39 
 
 A VISION IN EXILE 
 
 While I was gating at the moon's soft pace 
 Among the ghostly islands of the sky, 
 And thinking on the hard necessity 
 
 That forces men for bread and worldly place 
 
 To quit the sweet land of their boyhood's days, 
 With quickened joy I noticed suddenly 
 The clouds about her shape themselves to be 
 
 Dear England's outline on the Heaven's face ; 
 
 And where my own hill-nested village hears 
 The sea, a bright star hung to mark the spot, 
 Lest haply it should be by me forgot ; 
 
 And just where Oxford in the map appears 
 Another shone, and seeing it I caught 
 
 Airs from the gardens of Youth's golden years. 
 
40 
 
 AN EGYPTIAN NIGHT 
 
 The tender tamarisks about the well 
 
 Let down the twilight of their woven hair, 
 And on the surface of the water there 
 
 Three stars beside a moon immovable, 
 
 Like glow-worms round a primrose in a dell 
 Shine placidly ; far off in many a mile 
 Of sleeping silver flows the sacred Nile 
 
 Between tall palm-trees standing sentinel. 
 
 Westward beyond the dark verge of the green 
 The white wastes of the desert stretch away ; 
 There solitude and silence hold twin sway, 
 
 And no man comes to sow or reap or glean ; 
 And there the great sun's labour of the day 
 
 Is vain, and all things are as they have been. 
 
41 
 
 A KHAMSEEN 
 
 A SULPHUR-COLOURED gloom fills all the air, 
 And thro' the gloom a blurred sun wanly peers ; 
 With fiercely beating blast that stings and sears 
 
 The eyeballs and the nostrils and the hair, 
 
 A wind as fi"oni a furnace when men dare 
 To take the molten metal firom its. mouth. 
 Covers the trees with desolating drouth 
 
 Of barren sand the deserts lightly spare. 
 
 But lo ! the North wind comes, and with his might 
 Until the sun shines and the skies are free, 
 
 Buffets the gathered gloom, and drives apace 
 
 In stooping shapes across the Heaven's face 
 Dark tides of streaming sand, which seem to be 
 
 Legions of Titans in tumultuous flight. 
 
42 
 
 REFUGIUM 
 
 Under the tranquil stars I lie at ease 
 This summer night upon your balcony, 
 While you within the room make melody, 
 
 That blends and wanders with the wandering 
 breeze 
 
 Among the blossomed branches of the trees. 
 And charms my ears, until I seem to be 
 With stars and trees in punctual harmony. 
 
 And in my soul to have as perfect peace. 
 
 No ill can touch me now — I am become 
 A part of all I hear and watch, as though 
 
 Their soul had taken mine and led it home 
 Unto the house, whose pillars rise, we know, 
 
 In Art's still grove, where we can keep afar 
 
 Famine and plague and hosts that march to war. 
 
43 
 
 THE TYRANNY OF TIME 
 
 All things, we know, but hasten to their end. 
 And youth grows old and beauty fades away, 
 No part of loveliness but knows decay ; 
 
 O world, what thought more bitter dost thou send ? 
 
 O cruel Time, can never prayer unbend 
 
 Thy heart, or turn thee from thy purposed pain, 
 And must this light of beauty surely wane 
 
 And prove the wearer how thou dost but lend ? 
 
 O if thou canst not stay thy onward wave, 
 These eyes of light and tresses all of gold 
 Spare thus to desecrate, nor let grow old. 
 
 But bid Death come and kiss the sleeping head, 
 
 That she may down the shadow of the grave 
 
 Glide like a sunbeam, ere one grace be fled. 
 
4 + 
 
 BEAUTY AND TIME 
 
 Thine are the lilies and the roses too, 
 Beauty awoke from sleep to look on you, 
 And gave her eyes and mouth and sunny hair, 
 And said, the while a farewell kiss she threw, 
 " Wear these for aye, sweet child, and keep them 
 fair." 
 
 O vain the kiss, and vain the last command, 
 For all the gifts she gave with glowing hand. 
 Stern Time shall sear with desolate despair ; 
 O mocking words wind-spent upon the sand, 
 " Wear these for aye, sweet child, and keep them 
 fair"! 
 
 O come upon the midnight, gentle Death, 
 Shadow his sleep and stay his quiet breath ; 
 Come like an angel bright and kiss him there ; 
 Let him not live to mock the words she saith, 
 " Wear these for aye, sweet child, and keep them 
 fair." 
 
45 
 
 YOU SHALL NOT FIND LOVE 
 TILL DEATH COME 
 
 You shall not find Love till Death come, 
 And then you scarce will understand, 
 
 Though seeing Him in His own home, 
 Among the flowers of His own land. 
 
 Yet doth He dwell within your eyes, 
 That look as if He told you all 
 
 His secrets and His memories, 
 And made you His grave manual. 
 
 As if the torments of the years. 
 
 The passions that have shaped the past, 
 
 The cries and flowing of all tears 
 
 Were known by you from first to last. 
 
 As if He once had made you scan 
 
 (What your dark eyes would seem to tell) 
 
 The story of the heart of man. 
 
 Heard high in Heaven and deep in Hell. 
 
46 
 
 LOVE'S FAITH 
 
 When thou hast changed thy gentle resting-place 
 Of hills and valleys that have nurtured thee 
 So well, and sheltered thy simplicity, 
 
 Keeping undimmed the sunshine of thy face, 
 
 And all its roses in their fresh-blown grace, 
 And thou art gone to where men may not be 
 So tender of thy lovely purity, 
 
 O fear no harm, my love shall watch thy ways. 
 
 For morn and night, dear heart, I strive in prayer 
 For thee, and I have learnt their power to know. 
 How that the spirit by their strength can go 
 
 Whither it will, and thus even wheresoe'er 
 Thou art, I follow on those wings of faith. 
 And yet will follow thro' the gates of death ! 
 
47 
 
 LOVE'S DEBT 
 
 I CANNOT sing saving I sing of thee ! 
 
 The whole world's meaning is a riddle-book 
 Which thou interpretest with one sweet look ! 
 
 Are not my songs then foolish vanity 
 
 If they give not the master-melody ? 
 
 Strange madness were it, then, if I forsake 
 The only theme that can my powers awake, 
 
 And holds the gates of Heaven ope for, me ! 
 
 Then blame me not if I but sing one tune. 
 
 For through thy love my soul hath eyes to 
 
 know, 
 All beauty and all wonder earth can show. 
 
 And if I thanked not for this late and soon, 
 I were like harvesters who one by one 
 Count the year's blessings and forget the sun ! 
 
48 
 
 A WISH 
 
 O WANDER not beyond the encircling hill, 
 That with the tender folds of its green arms 
 Shelters thy cottage and the neighbouring farms ; 
 
 Quit not these quiet fields where Nature still 
 
 Teaches the heart and gently leads the will, — 
 For all beyond is sorrow matched with this, 
 And thou wouldst find no softer sky of bliss. 
 
 But only darkness o'er a waste of ill. 
 
 Live, then, thy life to Nature dedicate, 
 Thou art a part of her, and must not stray 
 
 From out her sanctuary, lest all too late 
 
 Thou grieve when childhood's glories pass away. 
 
 And thou art left with withered hopes and cold. 
 
 Amid a world that scorns thee now grown old. 
 
49 
 
 IN LOVE'S CONTROL 
 
 Shall not love's prayers control thy destiny, 
 Leading thy footsteps sweetly on life's way, 
 Thro' happy meadows till thy latest day. 
 
 That so no breath of evil breathe on thee, 
 
 To steal thy joy or mar thy purity ? 
 
 Shall not love watch from heaven like a star 
 Not passion-tost but gently beam from far. 
 
 Shaping thy course in sweet tranquillity ? 
 
 O mayst thou never touch the lips of sin. 
 But from the world unspotted, undefiled. 
 Guard ever safe thy loveliness, my child ! 
 
 So from thine eyes the wearied heart shall win 
 A solace sweet, and like a moonbeam bright 
 Thy smile shall kiss dark places into light ! 
 
so 
 
 A PRAYER 
 
 Last night, remiss, I did not pray for thee. 
 
 And now to-day am racked with sharp remorse 
 Lest my forgetfulness have left thee worse ; 
 For since the day when thou didst go from me 
 This prayer is nightly vowed, " God's blessing be 
 Upon thy journey over rough and smooth. 
 May His great love pour down on thee and 
 soothe 
 Thy saddest hour and guard thy purity." 
 When I recall thy loveliness, thy grace, 
 
 The true rare inward beauty of thy soul. 
 Grief would not leave me thinking thou must grow 
 With coarser plants, noxious for aught I know, 
 To crowd and draw the sweetness from thy face. 
 Did not my prayers put thee in God's control. 
 
51 
 
 LOVE'S ISOLATION 
 
 " Because he keeps apart — he does not love." 
 So thoughtest thou — I knew it all too well ; 
 What other ways for love couldst thou foretell ? 
 
 And so by thee forgotten I must rove 
 
 In bitterness of soul, who vainly strove 
 To take thee as thou art, a thing of flowers, 
 To kiss and wear some happy summer hours, 
 
 And could not, lest God struck me from above. 
 
 And thus I went, as if it was my will 
 
 To go ; and thou hadst sorrow for one night. 
 
 And I, treading a path I must fulfil. 
 
 Walk on with darkness and have no delight. 
 
 Save when God says in that small voice and 
 still, 
 " She yet shall know thy love, the depth and 
 height." 
 
S2 
 
 LOVE'S HOPE 
 
 If sometime after I am dead you read 
 These faltered lines, and therein recognise 
 How you did seem unto your lover's eyes, 
 Of what high hopes for him you sowed the seed 
 And what for him your Beauty's holy meed, 
 I'll be content ; for all love dared not speak. 
 And all the tears Night saw upon his cheek, 
 And all the secret ritual of his creed 
 
 Are written here. Ah, love, if not again 
 My lips meet thine once in the aftertime. 
 Oh, take this gift of weakly murmured rhyme, 
 
 As human token that 'twas not in vain 
 I loved, and you shall guess frotn it maybe 
 The dream and wonder your face held for me. 
 
53 
 
 MEMORY 
 
 I KNOW not where thy path is pointed now, 
 
 Nor yet what proof the world shall make of 
 thee, 
 
 Nor if it for thy grace and purity 
 Shall keep a sheltered peace, where thou mayst 
 
 grow, 
 Unstirred by any winds that colder blow. 
 
 Unto a tall and fragrant-fruited tree. 
 
 Amid a spot of sunlit greenery 
 Where shadows sleep, still waters wander slow. 
 
 That were love's choice — and be that as it may — 
 I hold thee pictured so thou cannot fade : — 
 
 Gold on the orchard grass late sunlight lay. 
 
 Gold glowed the apple on the topmost spray. 
 Gold showered the hair thro' which my fingers 
 
 strayed, 
 When on my knees thy head was gently laid. 
 
54. 
 
 THE RIVER OF TIME 
 
 O, MANY a blossom sailing 
 
 The river of time doth bear, 
 But his course is long and his stream is strong, 
 
 And little time they are fair. 
 And you, my sweet, are sailing 
 
 On the dance of his swirling tide, 
 And the rose of your youth is paling 
 
 Which was the summer's pride ! 
 Ah, would that your youth as a flower in sooth 
 
 Grew yet by the water-side. 
 Where the stream is young and slideth along 
 
 Green banks of meadows wide ! 
 Ah, would that you still were blowing. 
 
 In a place of reeds and grass. 
 Where the river of time went flowing, 
 
 As smooth as a mirror-glass. 
 But your head was ever bowing 
 
 To your own sweet image there. 
 Till your mouth did sip of the river's lip. 
 
 You h-eld yourself too dear ! 
 
THE RIVER OF TIME 55 
 
 So youth's undone for a false kiss won, 
 
 And you, like all, must wane, 
 And be borne along on the current strong. 
 
 And never be fair again. 
 
56 
 
 NOW WHILE O'ER WOOD AND 
 LEA 
 
 Now while o'er wood and lea 
 
 The quiet night doth fall, 
 One rose still glimmers on the tree 
 
 Beneath the old grey wall — 
 One rose and I would give it thee ! 
 Ah love, like moonray gliding bright. 
 
 Through places leaf-shut of the light. 
 Reach out white arms to me 
 
 And take my gift to-night ! 
 
57 
 
 WAS IT A SONG OR A SIGH 
 
 Was it a song or a sigh 
 
 Love in the light of his lady's eye 
 
 Let fall ? 
 Seemed it a rose or a thorn, 
 Deep in the dusk ere morn, 
 
 Love's lonely call ? 
 Is the song of a kiss never taken 
 A starved desire did waken 
 
 Sweet, thy lady away ? 
 A kiss or the song of a kiss. 
 Which hath the greater bliss 
 
 For thee, poet, say ? 
 
58 
 
 TELL ME, LOVER, THY LOVE 
 SO FAIR 
 
 O, TELL me, lover, thy love so fair. 
 
 Whence came the grace and the bloom, 
 The bloom and the grace that she doth wear, 
 
 And the delicate rare perfume ? 
 The fairy witch of a garden gay, 
 Seeing her laugh and play. 
 While still a child on a summer day. 
 
 Bade all the fairest flowers that grow, 
 
 Some gift of theirs on her bestow. 
 So one June night in the still moonlight, 
 
 The flowers held council sweet, 
 How each a grace might lend her face. 
 
 And crown her queen from head to feet. 
 And the first who chose was a full red rose. 
 
 And he would be her mouth. 
 And the next to speak was a violet meek, 
 
 (A gentle voice in sooth. 
 
O, TELL ME, LOVER, THY LOVE SO FAIR 59 
 
 And low from her leaves), " O might I give 
 
 The hues of her eye before I die, 
 So I in her may live ! " 
 And the lily cried, " Her limbs shall be 
 
 As white as mine in the white moonshine, 
 Tall and stately for all to see, 
 
 A lady as fair and fine ! " 
 And a woodbine nigh made soft reply, 
 
 " My honey is for her breath. 
 So none shall find a thing unkind 
 
 In any word she saith ! " 
 At last arose a wrangling there. 
 Which of the fliowers should give her hair. 
 
 Till the fairy said, " There is not one 
 
 Can do what I want alone." 
 (At the cruel word that she had heard. 
 
 The daisy died of despair, 
 And the crocus split in a petulant fit. 
 
 And the hyacinth shed a tear.) 
 " So I must do what is not for you, 
 
 And I pray you have no fear 
 I soon will catch the hair to match 
 
 The face you make so fair ! " 
 Next day she saw a sunbeam gold 
 
 Thro' apple-leaves so clear, 
 And wove the glory you behold 
 
 In my love's hair ! 
 
6o 
 
 THE LOVER AND THE MOON 
 
 BEAM 
 
 Would I were the moonbeam streaming 
 
 Upon her casement bright, 
 So to kiss her sweetly dreaming, 
 
 So fold her in my light. 
 
 " O moonbeam thither stealing, 
 
 Even now upon her head 
 Pale kisses art thou sealing, 
 
 And I watchhere instead. 
 
 " O moonbeam, answer meetly 
 
 If now in sleep she lies, 
 How dreams she, smiling sweetly 
 
 Or breaks she into sighs ? " 
 
 " O lover, I behold her, 
 
 I steal upon her bright. 
 My arms of light enfold her, 
 
 I kiss her forehead white. 
 
THE LOVER AND THE MOONBEAM 6i 
 
 " O lover, she is sleeping 
 
 III tranquil, blessed rest ; 
 I see no tears of weeping. 
 
 No sobs disturb her breast." 
 
 " O moonbeam, while above her, 
 Hast thou nor joy nor sigh ? 
 
 moonbeam, canst thou love her 
 With such a love as I ? " 
 
 " O lover, night is flying. 
 Soon must the dawn appear, 
 
 1 hear her gently sighing. 
 
 She knows the day is near. 
 
 " O lover, she is waking, 
 
 Quick sobs come from her heart. 
 
 As though it nigh were breaking 
 Because I must depart. 
 
 " O lover, she is praying 
 
 Upon her bended knee, 
 I hear her sadly saying, 
 
 ' O moonbeam, stay with me ! ' 
 
 " O lover, I am failing, 
 
 My love I may not tell, 
 Look how my light is paling, 
 
 I die in this farewell." 
 
62 
 
 TO 
 
 Between wood branches black that twist and twine 
 
 Is she a blossom hidden, 
 Or whitest foam flower of the moonlit brine 
 
 Flown forth wind-bidden ? 
 
 Close underneath yon ivy-mantled wall 
 
 There is a rose tree growing, 
 And on the very topmost spray of all 
 
 Is she a white rose blowing ? 
 
 What doth the wakeful wind say to her 
 
 Wood blossom, foam flower or white rose ? 
 
 What words of love that ne'er undo her 
 Glad Beauty that she has nor knows ? 
 
 The wind's own words that whisper laden 
 
 With April's shining tears, 
 O lover, if thou told the maiden, 
 
 Would fill her heart with fears. 
 
63 
 
 PANTOUM 
 
 The river says, " Lie down and rest, 
 My waters call thee unto sleep ; 
 
 O tired sad soul, forget thy quest, 
 O slumber where my willows weep. 
 
 " My waters call thee unto sleep. 
 
 My banks are fair with faultless flowers 
 
 O slumber where my willows weep ; 
 Forget the weary wakeful hours. 
 
 " My banks are fair with faultless flowers, 
 My willows whisper o'er thy head, 
 
 Forget the weary wakeful hours. 
 
 And leave, O leave, thy sorrow dead. 
 
 " My willows whisper o'er thy head. 
 My waters murmur as they flow, 
 
 O leave, O leave thy sorrow dead, 
 Even as a song lost long ago." 
 
64 
 
 FAIR ARE WOODS THE SUN 
 LIGHT FLOODS 
 
 O FAIR are woods the sunlight floods 
 
 With gold of the afternoon ; 
 And fair the gleam of a meadow stream 
 
 In the kiss of a setting moon. 
 
 O dear are the lips of the flower he sips 
 
 To wandering honey-bee, 
 And dear the rain that comes again 
 
 To the grass of a thirsty lea. 
 
 O soft in shade of the noontide laid 
 
 Is the shepherd's drowsy song, 
 And soft the sigh of winds that die 
 
 In murmurs the pines among. 
 
 O sweet is sleep where willows weep 
 And sing to us all the while, 
 
FAIR ARE WOODS THE SUNLIGHT FLOODS 65 
 
 And sweet is a face with love's own grace 
 And the light of love's own smile. 
 
 O sweeter love, when from above 
 
 Stars meek approvals look, 
 And none can say, save only they, 
 
 What kiss was the last we took. 
 
66 
 
 TELL ME WHERE THY LOVE 
 DOTH DWELL 
 
 O TELL me where thy love doth dwell 
 
 By sunny slopes of vine ? 
 O tell me if by stream and mead 
 
 Or mountain pine ? 
 
 My love dwells where a waterfall 
 Wreathes rocks in showery light, 
 
 Her home is girt with purple hills 
 That fade from sight. 
 
 Far off the sea doth murmur low 
 
 All night a drowsy tune 
 To inland fields where wan mists move 
 
 Beneath the moon. 
 
 My love looks from a casement twined 
 With rose and jasmine white, 
 
 Soft winds at even stir their ilowers 
 With kisses light. 
 
O TELL ME WHERE THY LOVE 67 
 
 My love doth tend a garden set 
 
 With roses white and red, 
 And two holm oaks beside her gate 
 
 Broad shadows spread. 
 
 My love hath, too, an orchard fair, 
 
 And when late sun doth fold 
 All things in light, the apples glow 
 
 Like cups of gold. 
 
 It is a spot that knows no change, 
 That shakes the world outside. 
 
 But on in ordered loveliness 
 Doth sweetly glide. 
 
 And something of its purple hills, 
 
 And skies of bending grace, 
 My love gives back in smiles of light 
 
 Upon her face. 
 
68 
 
 A WINTER SCENE 
 
 The robin clear is singing, 
 
 Amid the dripping hedge, 
 The winds are softly sighing, 
 Where withered reeds are bowing. 
 
 About the river's edge. 
 The sky is darker growing. 
 One rook is homeward winging 
 
 A slow belated flight. 
 The river's face is gleaming. 
 
 Between its level banks. 
 Like a sky of opal lying 
 
 Between two clouds of night. 
 The quiet mists are steaming 
 
 In slow and shadowy train, 
 Over fields and stirless ranks 
 
 Of woodland black with rain. 
 
69 
 
 TO ALBERT CHEVALLEY WITH 
 A VOLUME OF WORDSWORTH. 
 
 As some old pilot faring o er the sea, 
 
 Who knows its many moods of calm and storm, 
 
 The sudden changes of its restless form 
 
 Beneath each wind's capricious tyranny. 
 
 Looks ever with calm eyes and steadfastly 
 
 Upon the earnest stars that gem the night, 
 
 And knows he can but steer his course aright 
 
 If serving these in trustful certainty ; 
 
 So Wordsworth heard our many-voiced life 
 
 Roar round him hurrying on in purpose blind. 
 
 With groans, and clam'rous cries and aimless strife. 
 
 But undistracted kept his gaze on high, 
 
 Where like a silent beacon Nature shined. 
 
 To point an anchorage wherein to lie. 
 
70 
 
 THE SUMMER BREEZE 
 
 I KISS the lips of flowers 
 Upon the noon-tide hours, 
 Athwart the feathered grass 
 
 In sighs I pass. 
 I waken from their dream 
 The willows by the stream, 
 Who weeping bid me stay 
 And zone them all the day. 
 I shake the blossoms white, 
 With straying fingers light 
 Where apple-trees are bright 
 
 In warm sunlight. 
 I loiter amid firs ; 
 My languid breath bestirs 
 The music that they keep 
 Within their branches deep. 
 
 In charmed sleep. 
 And off" again I go 
 Where cottage gardens blow, 
 With many a stately row 
 
THE SUMMER BREEZE 71 
 
 Of crimson hollyhocks, 
 
 And sunflowers tongued with flame 
 
 And sweetly breathing stocks 
 
 And tall sweet-william, 
 
 And at my music low 
 
 Their heads nod to and fro. 
 
 I take the perfume sweet 
 
 or all the flowers I greet ; 
 
 I fan aside the hair 
 
 Of boy or maiden fair. 
 
 And wind with soft embrace 
 
 About each lover's face, 
 
 And breathe my odours rare 
 
 Upon them there. 
 By woods and gardens gay 
 I take my listless way ; 
 The shepherd in the shade 
 Beneath the chestnut laid 
 Dreams sweeter dreams of bliss 
 Beneath my wandering kiss. 
 At last grown faint and weary, 
 
 I pause beside the sea, 
 And on its warm bright breast 
 I lie in languid rest 
 
 And die away. 
 
72 
 
 " THE SOFT SOUTH WHITHER 
 MY HEART IS SET" 
 
 Love stood before me in a dream and said, 
 " Fly south with me, the summer here is dead, 
 Fly where blue seas laugh round a myrtled shore, 
 With fresh-blown roses I will wreath thy head 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore. 
 
 " Fly where flower-laden winds soft fan the brow 
 And no leaf falls, no wilder tempests blow ; 
 Fly where no angry breakers lash and roar, 
 But only curving ripples whisper low 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore. 
 
 " Fly hence, the light of Beauty's eye doth wane 
 Here in this land whose lord is endless pain ; 
 Southward she smiles love's smile as heretofore 
 And lips kiss oft, nor say a kiss is vain, 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore. 
 
THE SOFT SOUTH 73 
 
 " Soft shalt thou lie upon the noontide hours 
 And watch the sunlit fields from twilight bowers, 
 And learn the secrets of love's mystic lore, 
 And sip the honey of his rarest flowers, 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore. 
 
 " Come, for I give what hath the most of bliss, 
 Dark eyes to fathom, rosy lips to kiss. 
 Come where Love ruleth as in days of yore 
 And all are still fond ministers of his. 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore. 
 
 " Come quickly, for what service were more meet ? 
 Thou wanderest here with slow and bleeding feet, 
 And soon the blossom of thy youth is o'er ; 
 Come ere thou hast forgot a kiss is sweet, 
 There where love faints nor wearies evermore." 
 
74 
 
 SONG 
 
 FOR H. V. P. 
 
 Blow, blow, blow. 
 
 Wind over wood and lea, 
 And thy gentle wings shall carry 
 
 A word to my love from me. 
 
 Fly, fly, fly. 
 
 Over yon pleated hill. 
 Till thy lips do kiss the clematis, 
 
 Beneath her window-sill. 
 
 Sigh, sigh, sigh. 
 
 And stir the flowers there, 
 And sure she forth shall lean, 
 
 And thou shalt fan her hair. 
 
 Away, away, away, 
 
 Only a minute stay, 
 She is not thine to woo. 
 
 Come back what speed you may 
 And tell me she is true. 
 
75 
 
 TO MRS. C. D. ROMANS AFTER 
 RECEIVING FROM HER A COPY 
 OF EMERSON'S ESSAYS. 
 
 Sometime^ the soul is helped and grows in might, 
 Thro' impulses of generous sentiment 
 For greatness that from it is different, 
 
 Thro' fierce aspirings for an alien height, 
 
 To look on beauty of divinest right. 
 
 In hope some rarer radiance will be lent 
 To the dull uses of its proper bent, 
 
 And render what it lacked of charm and light. 
 
 But ofttimes is it best to recognise 
 The border of our lot particular, 
 And thank God reverently for what we are, 
 
 Knowing that we possess, in certain wise, 
 
 Some powers for work we need not seek afar. 
 
 That makes us greatly worthy in His eyes. 
 
76 
 
 O FOND FAIR FLOWER, GOOD- 
 BYE TO-DAY 
 
 O FOND fair flower, goodbye to-day. 
 Thou art gone to sweeten another air, 
 Gone to awaken the same despair 
 In all the hearts that meet thee there, 
 
 O cruel flower ! the truth to say. 
 
 O fond fair flower, thou wilt not stay. 
 Thy smiles shall gladden another place, 
 Thy lips shall burn on another's face, 
 Thine eyes shall shine at another's praise, 
 
 O fickle flower ! the truth to say. 
 
 O fond fair flower, is it alway May ? 
 
 Wilt thou always laugh with a light, glad heart ? 
 
 Wilt thou never weep when lovers part ? 
 
 Wilt thou still be happy in what thou art — 
 A heartless flower, the truth to say ? 
 
O, FOND FAip. FLOWER 77 
 
 O fond, fair flower, I well could pray 
 A little sorrow might wed thy bliss, 
 A little passion stir thy kiss, 
 A little love come after this, 
 
 O soulless flower ! the truth to say. 
 
78 
 
 TO B. C. E., APRIL 27, 1897. 
 
 The Naiad of a river in a vale 
 
 Nature appointed thee ; thy clear, deep eyes 
 Are like its waters shadowing blue skies, 
 
 And the close tresses round thy temples pale, 
 
 Like woven branches where the light gnats wail 
 About its placid pools in choirful sighs. 
 And thy voice like the linked melodies 
 
 Its shalk)ws murmur to the grasses frail. 
 
 So I had read thy face ; but yesterday. 
 
 As thou wast passing thro' a field of flowers. 
 Between the talk they held in idle hours, 
 With small hushed voice of awe, but clear and, 
 plain, 
 
 I heard a cowslip to a sister say, 
 
 " Persephone is come to earth again." 
 
79 
 
 CHAlET MELfeZES 
 
 TO F. w. u 
 
 O SWEET it is to make a song 
 
 These mountain pines among, 
 
 To mock the river's murmured flow 
 
 Filling the vale below, 
 
 Or in the grass around 
 
 Cicala's steady whirr of sound — 
 
 But sweeter far could but a music move 
 
 To this gold light slow falling from above, 
 
 A song to hold the colour of the skies. 
 
 And tell their change by cadence to the eyes 
 
 To gather in its calmest close 
 
 The mellow quiet as it glows 
 
 On all the hills — to give the peace 
 
 Upon these slopes at sunset hush. 
 
 Nor yet forget the rose-red after-flush. 
 
 And with its fading dimly cease. 
 
8o 
 
 THE SERPENTINE DANCER 
 
 First is she like a knot of dancing stars 
 Caught in a wreath of vapour, then a mist 
 Of brief illumined floating amethyst, 
 And in a moment flecked with jetty bars, 
 And suddenly 'tis dark, and on our view 
 Long rippling plumes of crimson shot with blue 
 That nearer, nearer move and toss yet higher. 
 And seem at last far-flinging founts of fire. 
 That fall in shining race of golden rain ; 
 And then her form is indistinct again. 
 Like a black cloud ; but lo, the lightning came 
 And clove her there with flakes of sapphire flame 
 And arched her with sinuous folds of light, 
 And whirling wheels of radiance red and white, 
 Smit thro' with lucid flashes as of spears ; 
 And these, too, vanish, and at last appears 
 The girl upon the stage before us there, 
 With golden light upon her golden hair. 
 
8i 
 
 THE SEA'S SUMMONS 
 
 Yes, I have made my choice, and the roving j ears 
 
 Shall bring me peril and hardship and tears, 
 But my soul shall stand and rejoice 
 
 In the freedom of thy control, 
 In the might of thy summoning voice ! 
 
 Stand and be sure and know not of fears, 
 Stand and be glad that it shall endure. 
 
 By the strength of the call that it hears ! 
 A boy to thy clamorous verge, O sea, I came, 
 
 sea, O lover whose life is my world, 
 And I heard thy thunder and pitiless surge, 
 
 And I saw the unnumbered dead things hurled 
 From thy lips without place, without name. 
 
 1 saw and I stood unaffrighted. 
 In the presence of death delighted, 
 
 For I knew that trial was made 
 Of my soul, if it held to its choice unafraid. 
 And I heard through the darkness and roar 
 
 The voice of the sea as she said, 
 7 
 
82 THE SEA'S SUMMONS 
 
 " Set out and my might will be thine, 
 Thy voice shall make music with mine, 
 
 The pulse of my life shall beat 
 In thy heart and refresh thee as wine, 
 
 With the strength of my strong fair feet 
 I'll clothe thy body entire ! " 
 And I chose in the tumult there. 
 
 While her hand was upon my hair. 
 And her kiss on my lips like fire, 
 
 To move with the change of her days. 
 To take for the life of my choice, 
 
 The life that is wed with her ways. 
 And serves in the sound of her voice ! 
 
83 
 
 THE SONG OF THE SEAGULL 
 
 O THE heart 6f the sea and its ways, 
 And the sound of its varying voice, 
 
 How dear are its nights and days, 
 And the song of its giant joys ! 
 
 O joy when the echoing caves, 
 
 To the vault of their deepest dome, 
 
 Join voice with the chorus of waves. 
 Filled full of their sound and foam ! 
 
 joy when the Heavens unbar 
 The streams of their rain and fire. 
 
 And the waves of the sea make war 
 On the land with a blind desire ! 
 
 In the midst, of the strife I fly. 
 
 And rejoice in my heart to be there ; 
 
 1 laugh 'twixt the sea and the sky. 
 The terror and tumult I share. 
 
84 THE SONG OF THE SEAGULL 
 
 When fire smites the cloud packs in sunder, 
 And the voice of the wind is loud, 
 
 I watch unafraid of the thunder 
 Or fire of the cloven cloud. 
 
 When the wind shakes foam like a feather 
 From the crest of the warring sea, 
 
 I and my mates together 
 
 Chase laughing the flakes as free. 
 
 O sweet when the winds blow light, 
 
 With a mate or two beside, 
 And the moon on the sea is bright, 
 
 To dream on the dreaming tide ! 
 
 O sweet on the tranquil breast 
 
 Of the gently heaving bay 
 To rock in the sun at rest 
 
 Thro' the length of a summer's day ! 
 
 O the heart of the sea and its ways. 
 And the sound of its varying voice, 
 
 How dear are its nights and days. 
 And the song of its giant joys ! 
 
85 
 
 LOVE, A RED ROSE BLOWING 
 
 Love, a red rose blowing. 
 
 My lips went nigh to kiss 
 In a garden of Love's own sowing ; 
 
 I know not where it is. " 
 
 Ah, rose, in the green and shade, 
 
 Between the roses there. 
 Was it love or fear forbade 
 
 My lips what they would dare ? 
 Ah, how did thy smile, red rose. 
 
 Determine my days to be ; 
 What song did your lips compose, 
 
 What things did I hear or see ? 
 For a vision that comes and dies. 
 
 And touches with shining grace, 
 A joy that gladdens and flies 
 
 Are mine since I saw thy face ! 
 But rose, will you tell to me, 
 
 When youth and his vision go. 
 And I weary of memory. 
 
 Where the beds of poppies blow ? 
 
86 
 
 SAPPHO 
 
 The moon and Pleiads now have set, 
 But darkness broods and lingers yet ; 
 I hear the sea-waves foam and fret 
 Thro' cave and creek and far inlet. 
 My flesh is wasted with love's fire ; 
 I cannot compass my desire ; 
 My anguish mounteth high and higher. 
 
 My life has rolled thro' seas of flame, 
 
 That parched the life-blood of my frame ; 
 
 My passion like a whirlwind came 
 
 And left me in a night of shame. 
 
 I'm mocked with shapes that come and go ; 
 
 My eyes are dim with blinding woe ; 
 
 My lamp of life is very low. 
 
 The sobbing waves continually 
 Send up one answer from the sea — 
 Death, death, they lowly whisper me ; 
 
SAPPHO 87 
 
 Death, death, and still they answer me — 
 O, soft waves, fold me on your breast, 
 And rock me into dreamful rest. 
 Until I die, so clasped and so caressed ! 
 
88 
 
 THE PAST 
 
 It is a dream that floats before my eyes, 
 Wherein is dimly pictured a low rise 
 Of purple hills above a wan, sad sea. 
 That seems to call and faintly beckon me 
 With broken waves of ruined memories ; 
 A vision of an autumn's slow sunset. 
 Leaving a summer world with mute regret. 
 A song as of a poet who doth tell 
 A tale of love, a bygone world loved well, 
 In burning words, alone in a strange land. 
 Unto strange hearts that cannot understand 
 
89 
 
 SONG BEFORE DEATH 
 
 Death, death, death, 
 
 A tired heart is calling ; 
 Death, death, death, 
 
 On thy ears the song is falling 
 Sweetly, while yet the voice hath breath 
 Death in a still, green place, 
 
 Where no loud winds are blowing ; 
 Death, where with placid face 
 Wan water soft is flowing ! 
 Death for a body that would rest 
 
 Where none should find or know it ; 
 Death and a grave unguessed, 
 With not a stone to show it ! 
 A spirit calls thee deeply laden, 
 
 Weary with tears and bitter woe ; 
 O hear then, be it boy or maiden, 
 
 The prayer is old enow ! 
 Love's wounds are deep, but thou canst heal 
 them ; 
 Love's lips cry night and day, 
 But thou canst surely seal them 
 With thy cold kiss for aye ! 
 
90 
 
 DESID-ERIUM FIDELE 
 
 Lo, I am watching at the death of love ; 
 
 Rose leaves are sweet even when the rose i; 
 dead, 
 
 Rose leaves I scatter o'er his dying head : 
 List to the sighing of yon Cyprus grove, 
 And all the flowers about the window move. 
 
 And breathe regretful fragrance round his bed. 
 
 As one by one I count the blossoms shed 
 From off the garlands he once brightly wove. 
 I hear the failing of his latest breath, 
 
 I feel the quiet darkness deeper close ; 
 " O for the cold hand of the angel death 
 
 To still before my eyes his last repose, 
 So might I sleep." Love heard, and nothing saith 
 
 And I watch on and kiss Love's icy brows ! 
 
91 
 
 WHAT ARE THE PILOT STARS 
 THAT FIX THY GAZE? 
 
 What are the pilot stars that fix thy gaze ? 
 The steadfast heavens of thine eyes declare 
 That thou dost contemplate some vision fair 
 
 I know not of, that orders all thy ways, 
 
 And keeps the cloud of follies from thy face 
 That swarm about me, since I do not dare, 
 Thro' the great gateway of one resolute prayer 
 
 To find the good and hold it all my days. 
 
 Lo, mid the thorny boughs that tear and stain 
 My face and groping hands, I call for aid 
 
 On thee, whether to turn to left or right. 
 
 For the sequestered peace of the green glade, 
 
 While trammelled by the underwood, in vain 
 
 I search the forest for its skirts of light. 
 
92 
 
 ASPIRATION 
 
 If I could win thy love, then might I know 
 The calm the balanced stars keep in the skies, 
 The rest the seagull feeleth when he lies 
 
 Cradled upon the patient sea, while slow 
 
 Winds wander and the moon is hanging low ; 
 The joy the flowers breathe out in odorous 
 
 sighs. 
 When in the beams of love's star they close eyes 
 
 To dream, dew-kissed, till dawn's rose-light shall 
 glow. 
 
 For thou dost lead thy soul in such green ways. 
 Where sunlight of God's love is over thee. 
 That thou hast never cause to hear or see 
 
 The louring clouds of life's malignant days. 
 And no harsh discord shocks the harmony 
 
 Thou sing'st in love's and truth's commingled 
 praise. 
 
93 
 
 HER BEAUTY 
 
 If I could draw the stars down from the skies. 
 Capture the golden air of morning hours, 
 Distil the inmost honey of the flowers, 
 
 Repeat the listening water's low replies 
 
 To the love-weary sallows' melodies. 
 Or weave the silver of the moonlit wave 
 Into a garment, then my song might have 
 
 Some kindred image of thy lips and eyes. 
 
 Ah love ! if I can no more see thy face. 
 Shall I discover any joy to be. 
 Or in the early morning's alchemy. 
 
 Or in the calm moon's silver-sandalled pace 
 Upon the waves, when each fair sight I see 
 
 Is but a symbol shadowing thy grace ? 
 
94 
 
 HER IMMORTALITY 
 
 Thou shalt not die ; death hath no word to say 
 To thee ; thou hast a music in thine ears, 
 We catch at sometimes when the incessant years 
 
 Pause in their march ; when, at the close of day, 
 
 Under dim skies by waters wan and gray. 
 
 Far rapt from commerce with all worldly fears. 
 Beyond the flowing of all human tears, 
 
 We feel Love's welcome breathed across our way. 
 
 But what we dimly guess is ever thine. 
 And we behold such beauty in these eyes. 
 As only those can have whom in Love's shrine 
 
 God set to hear more heavenly harmonies, 
 
 Than of the morning stars that sound and shine 
 
 In level sweep of splendour thro' the skies. 
 
9S 
 
 SPRING'S GIFTS 
 
 Did Spring herself give thee this gift of song ? 
 Came she with buds and sunbeams in her hair, 
 And voice of birds and rain thro' the bright air, 
 
 And murmurous bees where spires of blossom 
 throng 
 
 The chestnuts, saying unto thee belong 
 
 All my delights to sing and bloom to wear. 
 And all the sounds and fragrance that I bear 
 
 Shall answer in the music of thy tongue ? 
 
 So doth it seem ; for when I hear thy voice, 
 Even like the Spring's first fine intensity, 
 Each word thou say'st wakes all the life of me, 
 And thrills my soul with penetrating joys. 
 And breathless wonder of some hid delight, 
 That dwells with thee indomitably bright. 
 
96 SPRING'S GIFTS 
 
 II 
 
 Yea, in thy song are all the blooms of Spring, 
 And steady summer's blue tranquillity, 
 And wistful autumn's mournful harmony, 
 
 And radiant carols sailing skylarks sing 
 
 Across the dying gold of evening, 
 
 And laugh of streams that all the summer tide 
 Dimple where marigolds and cresses hide. 
 
 And words of winds that wander whispering 
 
 The loves of flowers. All these are in thy lays ; 
 And Love himself weareth a brighter flame, 
 Whene'er he heareth thee invoke his name. 
 
 And bids Death take his shadow off" thy ways. 
 When from the pinnacles of thy clear songs. 
 He knows the whole world to his power belongs 
 
97 
 
 THE HOUR DIVINE 
 
 Silence and solitude, and moon for light 
 
 And stars, and in that hour thy hand in mine. 
 Could chance eventual seem more divine ? 
 
 If I should search my soul the depth and height 
 
 When it was worthiest in God's solemn sight, 
 Or rendered closer to His own design. 
 Should I not answer, when attuned to thine 
 
 I knew the harniony it beat was right ? 
 
 Silence and solitude, and stars and moon 
 Whitening the circle of the haggard hills. 
 And spaces of the fields which no man tills. 
 
 And thou and I watching with hearts in tune 
 Beneath the pyramids, which seemed to be. 
 The shadow of our souls' tranquillity. 
 
98 
 
 NOW AND HEREAFTER 
 
 While these glad weeks of Spring are spent with 
 thee, 
 I ask at each turn of my gentle way, 
 What flower of beauty shall I pluck to-day ? 
 
 For while I look into thine eyes I see 
 
 Some new delight each minute brought to me, 
 Making my life as one perennial May, 
 And my feet move to a sweet virelay. 
 
 Born of two hearts' responsive harmony. 
 
 So is it now while thou art with me here ; 
 But ah ! what opiate of Lethean flowers, 
 When thou art gone away shall my soul find. 
 When from the passion of sweet joys resigned. 
 
 Memory shall mock Desire in visions clear 
 With gold of irrecoverable hours ? 
 
99 
 
 LOVE'S GRATITUDE 
 
 Farewell, I know not when we meet again, 
 But thou hast left me treasure of sweet thought 
 That no dividing distance can make nought ; 
 
 Memories of hours 'neath skies without a stain, 
 
 When, as a thirsty meadow feels the rain, 
 I felt the benediction of thine eyes ; 
 Memories of ways and words and smiles and 
 sighs 
 
 That haunt me like a song within the brain. 
 
 Ah, let me thank thee reverently for this 
 That I have seen the Garden of fhy soul. 
 And culled cool flowers to make a sick heart 
 whole, 
 And felt thy words like winds of evening kiss 
 My brow, breathing faint airs of balm and bliss. 
 Till life seemed sweet to live in thy control. 
 
PARTED LOVE 
 
 Alone I stand amid the orange grove, 
 Where only yesternight I stood with thee ; 
 And now from off the very selfsame tree 
 
 I pluck two blossoms, while the moon above 
 
 My head lies sleeping like a silver dove 
 Among the leaves ; but thou across the sea 
 Voyagest ever farther off from me. 
 
 But with the same moon on thee, O my love ! 
 
 Ah gentle moon, might thou and I change eyes ! 
 For thou art watching my beloved now, 
 Perchance as leaning from her vessel's prow 
 
 She gazes on the starlit sea and skies. 
 And sealest with the fulness of thy kiss, 
 The face that I so madly, madly miss. 
 
lOI 
 
 LOVE'S WISH 
 
 I SEE thy vessel gliding thro' the night 
 Across the watery spaces of the world ; 
 So calm it is, the refluent ripple curled 
 
 About her bows falls noiseless left and right, 
 
 And spreads like a slow smile ; the moon's full light 
 Sleeps on the water, round, immovable. 
 Save when 'tis scattered by a gradual swell 
 
 Into a chain of golden pieces bright. 
 
 Ah love ! from thy ship faring o'er the sea, 
 
 I would thy mouth might sing my heart's desire, 
 
 So should some gentle dolphin hearing thee. 
 Still mindful of Arion and his lyre. 
 
 Bid thee leap down and bear thee back to me, 
 Swift, swift with cloudy wake of silver fire. 
 
IN VAIN 
 
 Ah sleep, why mock me thus in dreams? Last 
 night 
 It seemed I had been given wings and flew 
 Above her vessel's wake, and ever drew 
 
 Nearer to her, until with quick delight 
 
 I saw her hand wave like a blossom white, 
 And her eyes thro' their lucid wells of blue 
 Shone with a welcome smile, as if they knew 
 
 The aspiration of my eager flight. 
 
 Lo, I was close to her, but then her eyes 
 Dreamed sad and fixed against the distant skies. 
 
 And though I was so near they saw not me ; 
 And I fell backward and the ship was gone ; 
 And like a strayed small bird I flew alone 
 
 Amid the desolation of the sea. 
 
I03 
 
 OMNIPRESENCE 
 
 Under the blackness of the woven wood 
 The water shadoweth the fading skies ; 
 Is it the moon that there reflected lies, 
 
 Or one lone swan upon the silent flood, 
 
 Or a white lily of its sisterhood 
 
 Forlorn, persuaded by a faithless wind 
 To leave its modest nunnery behind, 
 
 And now left lightly to sad solitude ? 
 
 I know not which — but though the shadows close 
 About me, still the lonely whiteness glows 
 Amid the desolation of the lake. 
 Even as thy face, whether I sleep or wake, 
 Hangs like a star or solitary rose 
 
 At the dim limit of each path I take. 
 
I04 
 
 FAR, FAR BELOW BETWEEN DARK 
 WOODLAND GLEAMING 
 
 Far, far below between dark woodland gleaming 
 
 The river flows, 
 And o'er the shadowy treetops steaming 
 
 The white mist goes. 
 
 Pale as the moon's face pillowed in black clouds. 
 
 The stream looks there, 
 Pale as a lady's brow between the shrouds 
 
 Of her dark hair. 
 
 Faint, faint the evening winds are blowing 
 
 Flower-laden sighs. 
 Faint, faint the gold and jet is glowing 
 
 From fading skies. 
 
 Far off the blue hills clasp and glimmer 
 
 About thy home ; 
 Ah, love, weak like a far-spent swimmer, 
 
 Thither to thee I come.