^943 1836 w BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Hemrg M. Sage 1891 4 ^^AT/ 5474 Cornell University Library PS 2943.S3C8 1896 3 1924 022 181 659 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/cu31924022181659 A CYCLE OF SONNETS A Cycle of Sonnets %.v' i^a-Ta, E-W'^afc.e*^^ CW-) W ^ S>-Vovne. EDITED BY MABEL LOOMIS TODD BOSTON ROBERTS BROTHERS 1896 Copyright, 1896, By Roberts Brothers. All rights reserved. 1 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. DEDICATION To my Immortal Love, who soareth fair Wrapt in the clouding of her golden -hair, Who lookest down on me with shining eyes Transfigured with the joy of Paradise, With light transcending light, as to sustain My darkened soul so shrivelled with its pain — Whq was so happy that Heaven hushed to sleep, Nor can awaken howsoe'er I weep. Nor can come back, whatever my despair, I send this message — it will reach her there. A CYCLE OF SONNETS PREFACE THESE sonnets, bequeathed to me by one the tragedy of whose life it has been mine to know, were written in mature years, and in the splendor of his first great love for the fair girl who died during the second year of their engagement. It is evident that the poems had not been seen by her, — perhaps because of his high spiritual reserve, perhaps because he wished at a later season to lay them all at her feet. It is evident, too, that they were intended for pub- lication eventually, and among them was found the dedication. Seeing her first in spring, the days of Nature's awakening surrounded him with an atmosphere of joy, through which the pathos of his former life some- times penetrated. On Memorial Day especially, the pain of a past loss broke forth in a lament which even the presence of his absorbing love had hardly power lO PREFACE to soothe. But the summer was transfigured with magical light, and the short winter days were no more dull and cold. Another spring dawned upon this rare and radiant love, and then the great darkness fell. When she died, those who knew him knew that he died also. M. L.T. Amherst, October, 1896. A CYCLE OF SONNETS T FELT a new strange Presence at my side ■'■ That radiant-plumaged followed where I went, And as if near to Heaven my heart was sent To swift wild beating like a swollen tide; Glory encompassed me — I could not hide, But blinded as with suns, mine eyes I bent, Nor could deny the Power omnipotent That from my soul swept all the dark aside : Like golden shadows flung from gates on high The solemn splendor sudden fell apart. And straight I was sharp hewn with ecstasy. And knew thee mine, O angel that thou art, Whose name is Love, whose flaming sword dost lie Plunged to the hilt — here, here within my heart. 12 A CYCLE OF SOATNETS II TF thou hadst come to me in any guise Save that thou wearest, sweet, I should have known The vision strange, and kept thy vacant throne Still tenantless ; but when I saw thine eyes Compelling mine with their high truth to rise And scan Life's noblest peaks, the light that shone My dazzled soul o'ercame ; prostrate and prone I fell before thee — smitten with ecstasies. Love ! hadst thou sooner come, it were too soon ; I needed sight of one more spring aflame. One April's miracles, ere the May moon Should on the azure crescent write thy name ; My soul were all too cramped held it not boon Of Heaven thou broughtest, I, through Love can claim. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 13 III "\ 1 /"HEN first I saw thee, sweet, the sunlight fell • Flooding thy brow ; and dazzled with its gleam I-thought, ' Some saint of Guido's, in a dream Of mounting wings, has broken the canvas spell, And flown to earth the heavenly dream to tell ; ' Now, that I worship, should the worship seem For saint too human, let my love redeem Till to the saint's high stature it shall swell. Before thou camest, lo ! I was as nought ; Into my soul the revelation came Like a great rush of splendid music, caught From swing of worlds and stars created new. I live again — the miracle is wrought Because, O sweet, Love's gates I have passed through. 14 A CYCLE OF SONNETS IV npHB Spring has broken to flowers beneath thy feet, And lilies in thy virgin pathway grow, And the young violets awakening, show Their sky-enamoured souls to thee, O sweet, With passion of divine insistence, meet From flower to flower. The purple hyacinths blow 'Neath thine eyes' sunshine, and I hear the flow Of the near river — like thy pulses' beat. my beloved, lo ! thy presence fair Exalts me as the sun exalts the day ; 1 am upswept on impulse high as prayer Into the ether of thy heavenly way, And should'st thou deign to love me, I will bear Thy lilied heart on mine as earth bears May. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 15 'T'HE trees were only budded yesterday, Hiding their souls in a mysterious haze. To-day their snowy blossoms star the ways, And Spring is rushing onward fleet and gay : — So with my love, O sweet ! I could not stay Its sudden flower, but in a heavenly maze I borrowed of the Spring what Spring repays, The transport of its music-hearted May. Ah ! this vast joy is all too vast to tell : — Go watch the flowers that in the sunshine glow, And let their speech be mine ; the asphodel. The rose, the pansy's purple deeps, may know Language more fit for Love — yet listening well Hear'st thou not Love in all the flowers that blow ? i6 A CYCLE OF SONNETS VI T) ECAUSE it rains to-day the flowers are sad ; They know, perchance, that smiling soft and gay My happy sweetheart will not pass their way, So weep : — I too should weep, unless I had Her presence like a flower to make me glad ; — The book she bids me read aside I lay For the great book of Love, and smiling say, ' Not strange that such sweet knowledge maketh mad.' Outside, upon the flowers the rain still beats, We watch the wind-blown grass, yet do not know. Love, in vague way, but that the sunshine greets The daisies' eyes from sun that floods us so, And should I pluck from out those marguerites One bloom for her, its tears would cease to flow. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 17 VII A PROTEST T T rHY should I covet, since Love places bar, ^ * The clear, thin ice of your reserve to break ? Perhaps my soul may too supremely make Its needs apparent, and appealing jar A fine, pure silence purest speech would mar. Yet if the sunshine's turbulence can shake Roses' deep hearts to view, then I may take A swift survey, and know you as you are. Therefore I am content, though to my sight The splendor of your dreams you may deny. Yet sometime should there come a moonless night, You may not weep so long, that I am nigh. And should I read your silences aright, The light might blind as from some sun on high. i8 A CYCLE OF SONNETS VIII MEMORIAL DAY TNSURGENT beats my heart to-day, at sound Of wailing instruments that slay the air With requiems sharp and vivid as despair ; And to mine eyes there comes a vision crowned With lilies, snowy as were strewn around My silent dead's unbreathing bosom, where They lay, nor half so beautiful and fair As he, calm smiling in his sleep profound. I plant, whQe flowers on countless graves are strewn. This flower of Grief, because he will not wake. I weep in Love's Gethsemane alone. O Love, thou art too pitying to forsake. Be with me till my weeping is outgrown, And yet, O Love, it seems my heart must break. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 19 IX T OVE, ere thou cam'st, in happy dreams of night ■^ I saw thine eyes of Heaven the heavens look through, So when thy hands within mine own I drew, My heart was shak'n to rapture infinite In that old time when young springs broke to sight, And, violet-stirred, their loosened pulses flew ; When morning's scimitar the white mists slew I searched in vain for that mysterious light ; Something intangible seemed always nigh That shaped to vision only when I slept, I caught the fluttering echoes of a sigh, As air that moved with great tears softly wept. Now thou art here — nor wilt thy love deny, And every chord within my soul is swept. 20 A CYCLE OF SONNETS r^ RADIANT maiden with thy radiant eyes ^"^ That even through their drooping lashes, seem — Like shut-in suns — to send out mystic gleam, Constant, thou breathest ether of the skies ; Thou art thyself the breath of Paradise, Thou art the fair white Uly of my dream, Thou art the very flower of Love, supreme — Thou art my soul's perfected harmonies. I take thee to this happy heart of mine, This happy heart of mine, whose swiftened beat Is of my lofty worship but a sign, And hold thee templed there as saint, O sweet. Thou art the lily of my dream, divine Thou art my dream of Heaven, fulfiU'd, complete. A CYCLE OF SOATNETS XI T^EAR, not because the new-blown lilies fling ^^ Their golden-hearted welcomes as you go Your happy way, nor that you smiling show The wild flower's grace, nor yet because you sing In chorus with the birds, un wondering As a young Nightingale at overflow Of your own joy, is why I love you so — But that one April morning when you wept Some April grief away, you let me see — Like an unsullied treasure ocean-kept — How starry white a woman's soul might be ; It is, that then some force within me leapt And smote to life the God that slept in me. 22 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XII "DECAUSE the lilacs, purple unaware, ^^ And hawthorn buds divinely opening, show A thousand tender blushes on their snow, Because the morning-glories climbing, bear Their soundless chimes exultant thro' the air, And butterflies their secrets whisper low To cowslips in the valleys, as they go, I tell my love to thee, who art most fair, Because the busy swallows dart away, The soft young grasses for their nests to bring, Because the blue-birds, fired with joy of day, Sweeping to meet the coming sunrise sing, I dare to sing, lured by the eyes of May, To thee, to thee who art the soul of Spring. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 23 XIII T OVE, listen to the Spring — what can I say -*— ' That would be half as wonderful as this — Its many voices breathing out their bliss In outspread arms of the enchanting day ; Something bewildering seems to find its way Into the blossoming flowers, the wind's soft kiss, The sky with its o'er-azuring abyss, The buttercups that toward the sunshine sway, And one gold bird, diviner than the rest, Sings with a wild, mad sweetness that is new, Nor even knows how the strange longing grew, As if my love's white passion sweeping through Had poured itself to Spring's unconscious breast. 24 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XIV T CANNOT sleep ; O Love, with Love's unrest ■*■ I watched the infant moon that knew the Day Shine for a little while, then go away Cradled upon the Night's majestic breast ; And I, in this new darkness, am impressed As with a glory hidden, like the play Of rainbows never to be flashed away, Nay, even the stars throb as with power repressed. What is it stirs the illimitable Night As if a great heart in its bosom beat ? I am perplext, O Love, but it is sweet To know perplexment that is all delight. And in the dim, mysterious Night to meet The unveiled wonder of Love's infinite. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 25 XV r\ SAD-MOUTHED virgin with thy perfect face, ^^ And mystic glory of thy gleaming hair, With thy rapt eyes, I wonder how I dare Do aught, than silent kneeling as for grace Before thy soul's white shrine, my own abase And with Love's rosary to count a prayer ! For every thought of thee, who art so fair, May win for me at last some lowly place. Around thy lips the tender shadows play, Prophetic of some woe that may be thine, Smile till thou shalt have smiled them all away — And in thine eyes the look is so divine I need a thousand rosaries to pray. Poor human pilgrim, at thy heavenly shrine. 26 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XVI T OVE — let me call you Love, for I can say ■^ No other word that will my soul express — Why have you come to me so late, unless The perfect chord were reached but through delay? Now I can watch you in Love's closest way, And let my restless heart its needs confess In mighty hushing of your tenderness. And yet I sigh that for your golden day I can but give you twilight, wet with rain. Sweet, why so late that I can give no more — Yet scorched and scarred with fires of burning pain, I know Love's value better than before, And from your affluence I will seek to gain Only one moonlit ray, from bliss brimmed o'er. A CYCLE OF SOJVN'ETS 27 XVII I HAD not learned Life's vastness to descry, Nor knew what it could bring, until I read In thy dear eyes, brimming with tears unshed. Love's breadth and depth. Then in a transport high As the strong currents of a river fly From narrow boundaries to the sea outspread, So I, impetuous, to thy heart was led. Glad and content forever to be nigh. Ah ! since thou lov'st me, I can understand What depth of poverty was mine before. Yet now, as with a miser's grasping hand, Less than the whole I should outreach for more, But, giving all may make my soul expand Till chance I shall be worthier to adore. 28 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XVIII f^ THOU who boldest Heaven within thine eyes, ^-^ Vouchsafe to grant my prayer, and let their light That yesterday shone radiant to my sight, To-day be not withdrawn. For in them lies AU that I dream and hope of Paradise, And thou art Queen of all the world by right As Queen of Spring, and I wiU be thy knight. Ready to make for thee all sacrifice. How swiftly pass the days ! Two moons ago I had not met thee — then on Dawns outspread It seemed as if the rose forgot to blow. As if across the heavens the line of red Barred in its fairer light, but now I know All that was hidden, by thee interpreted. ■ A CYCLE OF SONNETS 29 XIX THE DEAD BIRD /^ GENTLE heart, with tears to raining sent ^^ At sight of thy dead bird, be comforted ; For all its life was song, thy lips have said, And saidst thou this of me where'er I went, Then to be dead were only to be sent Into new song, but sung by thee instead, And I will be thy bird. Lift up thine eyes, And let me hush thee back to thy content. Yes ! I will be thy singer, though with voice Like a poor linnet's, not the voice divine. Yet thou hast lifted me, because thy choice — To where I see the wings of music shine. And in thy pure devotion, I rejoice. Faint-voiced or clear, the lark's high Heaven is mine. 30 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XX "nPHE expectant Dawn watches the coming sun -'■ Pale with the mists that in the east delay, Haunted ineffably with dreams of Day, Till at last meeting, Dawn and Day are one. Thou art the Day, O sweet, with songs o'errun, And I the Dawn, glad in thy light to stay ; Glad, though the glory should be borne away — Glad, though the wondrous singing should be done, For whatsoe'er Life brings, though tears should flow, I shall believe its mystery divine. And by Love's power to grieve, Love's power shall know. Nor question aught denied, if thou art mine. Nay ! even if the fickle sun should go, The splendor still in thy dear eyes will shine. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 31 XXI T TNLOCK thy gates, O Day, and spill the wine ^-^ From out thy mighty press, till it shall run And drown the heavens, and red engulf the sun, Struggling to rise ; then with a noiseless sign Let the full stream subside, and leave divine The rescued sun enthroned ; and not yet done Melt all thy heavenly jewels into one, And in thy sapphire splendor, radiant shine, And I and my beloved, hand in hand. Thy coming will await, and with thy light Burning above us, in a hush will stand Rapt and exultant at the shining sight. As of the wonders of a promised land. And be baptized of thee, as angels might. 32 A CYCLE OF SONJ\rETS XXII T OOK deep down in my soul and you will see ■^-^ The color of the June — the radiant play Of yester's sun, the passion of the Day Outwrought in gold, and every bud and bee, And floods of butterflies that poured past me In rain of yellow splendor winged away Till buried in syringas' snow they lay. I hold them all in memory, as free To take as June to give. No flower that grew And glittered in the grass escaped my eyes ; The buttercups, gay nodding, softly blew — A tinge of rose half blushed behind the skies — All June was mine, and yet the June I knew Shone forth transfigured in your radiant eyes. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 33 XXIII A ND we will wander, this imperial day, ■^ Like happy children in the fields and lanes, And listen to the locusts' jubilant strains, And breathe the perfume of the new mown hay, And see the barberries clustering by the way — Not scarlet lit, but flecked with scarlet stains, — And watch the azure that the sky attains, And see the hills in their divine array ; And 'mid the beauty wilt thou lift thine eyes, And let me joy of Love within them read — Not with the look that sometimes in them lies, As if thy coming wings had been decreed, But as some angel who great Love can prize — Angel, more heavenly for this heavenly need. 34 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXIV A LL hail, O Queen, that comest with Summer's ■^ tread. Whose eyes outrival the noonday skies, in blue, Whose face is hke the sun's uprising through Mom's golden clouds, that stream above its head, I see the birds with bosoms flashing red Hover above thee, as if listening t a Thy happy voice, and hear them triU anew Diviner notes that they have borrowtSd. — How shall I, fitting, my allegiance show ? The wild rose opens as thou passest by, The daisy bares for thee its breast of snow. The winds salute thee tenderly — but I Can only kiss thy hand, that thou mayst know Thou rulest well, since at thy feet I lie. A CYCLE OF SONNETS. 35 XXV r\ CRUEL life ! so prodigal of pain, ^^ If pitiless to some, you scatter blight. Forget your craft, and only through delight Let my soft dove be taught. Keep unprofane Her gentle eyes, from the tempestuous rain That beats from anguish that is infinite — , Nor let her wings be pierced in upward flight. Willing, my soul the arrow's wound would gain, If she to the blue heavens might scarless rise. My heart would break, if in the opening day The glory should be quenched in her young eyes. Yet left to judge, how should I dare to say O Life, that I would have it otherwise, Come joy, come anguish, than the Supreme way ! 36 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXVI "\ It rERE I a cloud lifted above the heat, ^ ^ Swept by the impassioned Summer breezes by, And wert thou, best beloved, but the sky, Then I would drift, drift, drift — the Dawn to meet — Until I heard thy great heart softly beat In the broad wonderment of blue on high, And there, with joy ineffable would lie Hushed in majestic refuge and retreat. But when the larks' songs should no longer flow, And darkness like a shadow seemed to sway. Then higher, higher, higher, I would go Dreaming new love to tell the coming Day, And all of bliss as all of Heaven should know. Bearing with me thine azure kiss away. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 37 XXVII T LOVE thee as the Summer loves the sky, As night the rising of the crescent moon, As butterflies the splendor of the noon, As the wild rose the thrushes' ecstasy ; For thou art Nature's own to sing or sigh, Giving to every mood responsive tune. Thou art a minstrel with the hope of June Flooding my heart with constant melody. The flowers with thee their happy secrets share, And bloom as if thy sunshine to requite, And orioles, lured by glitter of thy hair, With thee are intimate and stay their flight As knowing thou art Empress of the air. With song outrivalling theirs in its delight. 38 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXVIII T AST night as moonlight down the mountain steep ^~^ Fell noiselessly upon the lilies blown, I wondered if its light more saintly shone For having kissed thee in thy saintly sleep. I wondered if the tinkling bells of sheep Roused as with day, into thy dreams had grown Like the vague music of some mystic zone, Or if thou heard'st the night dews softly weep. Haply the night was so supremely fair Thou wert awake, and wistful watched the moon That seemed to sail toward thee, as to compare Its heart with thine, and heard'st seolian tune Swept from the pines, and breathed a virgin prayer Whiter than all the lilies blown in June. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 39 XXIX T WAITED Summer while the hyacinths blew : - ■^ I thought I knew its affluence and grace, Ere, O beloved, I had seen your face, And yet, till now, Summer I never knew : Beneath the sky's magnificence of blue The light-winged swallows dart, as if to trace A pathway for my soul that needs more space And rarer air, to fit itself for you : — The wild-rose flush is fairer, and the breeze, Tossing white daisy billows to and fro, Murmurs strange secrets, while upon the trees Trembles a light, divine as overflow From some immortal sun, and thrushes seize And bear to Heaven, sweet raptures that I know. 40 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXX FOR ROSES "VT'OU brought a dream of beauty, wondrous fair, -^ Hid in your roses, with their blush and bloom — Something that thrilled the twilight's violet gloom As gold-winged butterflies the Summer air. I needed but to close my eyes, and where Darkness was slowly gathering in the room, There fell a flush of light that seemed to loom And to the o'erhanging clouds its color bear : Perchance perfumes of flowers some charm may own Shadows to lift — for when I turned to see Whether the night were moonless still, there shone The moon of your sweet love to answer me. And though its light upon the flowers was thrown Its very splendor made me turn — and sigh. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 41 XXXI ^~\ THOU who wear'st the Summer's smiling grace, ^^ Whose golden hair shines like the daffodils, Whose voice is like a joyous lark that trills Its matins to the east, and whose fair face Holdest among the lilies fairest place. To know that I am in thy presence fills My soul with gladness, as when 'neath the hiUs Through veins of earth the Spring's warm currents race. The flower bells that thou gav'st me yesterday, With words that never more can be unsaid, All night in sweet delirium seemed to sway As if the chimes elysian that they played Proclaimed to angels in mysterious way All earth, through Love, into all Heaven is made. 42 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXXII T^HE sunset light fell on my Love and me ; My Love, whose eyes are like a summer day, Flushing the gloom of purple clouds that lay Like fire-winged birds, sailing the sky and sea. From scabbard of the night drawn silently, A flaming sword the horizon seemed to slay, And radiant-shafted rainbows shot away And the day died in opal ecstasy. I saw her smile as chance the angels do, Who, calm in Heaven, eternal beauty know ; Nor yet could speak, the while the darkness grew, And, black-winged, blotted out the world below. Yet with her hand in mine, a light I knew More wonderful than sky or sea could show. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 43 XXXIII /"^IVEN the lily of your love, O sweet, ^-^ I take it as I might some violet star Plucked from the Heavens immeasurably far, And brought to me with all its light replete, Piercing my inmost soul, with gladness meet For such high gift — yet lest some breath should mar As lily's petals touched profanely are, I hide it 'neath my bosom's surging beat Sacred as death — this infinite unrest Bears me to such high transport I can keep The sweet remembrance even in my sleep, Nor dare I lift my drooping eyelids, lest Shining through mists of Love — for Love must weep — You see the lily trembling in my breast. 44 ^ CYCLE OF SONNETS XXXIV YESTERDAYS "DELOVED, yesterdays in which you came ^-^ Are counted all, and often I have said This Summer holds a thousand Junes, and red Of its great burning roses, puts to shame All those that bloomed before this oriflamme Swept the whole world to glow : — Now I can thread The labyrinth of your soul and be Love-led, Find erewhile hidden place for which I aim. Nor need long wander, for by lilies strewn And lifted by your heart-beats into heap Of white and shining beauty, will be shown Where with your own soul's sacredness you keep Myself — Myself whom you have made your own, And all unworthy, I can only weep. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 45 XXXV T OVE, Love, I said, and straightway o'er my heart, "^ A passion'd sea with marvellous flooding swept, And on the shore, where I had stood apart And o'er the waves outgoing ceaseless wept Sudden my tears fell faster, for the tide Had swelled to turning — Beloved, I have known Rapture's whole scale and have been crucified With Love's renunciation till alone Weeping remained. Often I would have died, That death with its forgetfulness might heal ; I fear despair so much that I would hide From this sweet knowledge even lest it reveal Through throbbing waves of exquisite delight. The after coming of forlornest night. 46 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXXVI (~^0 not so soon away, dear heart, because ^^ When you are gone, I feel some note estray. Music, upswelling, seems to drop away Into chromatics, and the sadness awes. I find, in what was fairest morning, flaws, And even the sunshine, struggling, seems to play As conscious of some want, and will not stay But follows you — obeying natural laws. Then when I look in your calm eyes, behold Their violet infinitudes in sight. The sun again grows passionate with gold. The Heavens seem palpitating with delight, And as the brooding shadows mountains fold, My Love enwraps, unwondering at your height. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 47 XXXVII A ND day by day the mountain seems to grow ■^^ Enwrapt more royally in robes of state, As if with sight of thy young face elate, And the sun's flush is brighter, so to show It kissed thee first, to all the world below, And mountest guard at noontide, as to wait And know thy happy fodtsteps are not late, To bid the azure stUl more azure grow. And dost thou feel the joy, O sweet, and sing. And pluck the daisies in the flowery ways. And watch the butterflies on airy wing, Or some white cloud that tender o'er thee stays. Or dost thou, absent, turn thy golden ring Sad with increasing splendor of the days ? 48 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XXXVIII IN ABSENCE TTOW can I bear the waiting, till you lay, -*• In tender need, your pale pure hands in mine ? As Night lamenting crescent moon's decline I weary, in my loneness for one ray Of the great glory that is hidden away. Wherefore delay, when darkest dark is mine ? Thou art the presence making Night divine. Nor this alone — thou art the sun for Day, Thou art the star of Morning shining high. Thou art the Evening star with light intense, Thou art the stars' path flung across the sky Bridging all Heaven with its magnificence. Yet were not earth so low and Heaven so high. How could I measure Love's omnipotence ? A CYCLE OF SON^N'ETS 49 XXXIX TLTOW long it seems, Love, since your last good- -^ night ! To-morrows and to-morrows yet have flown And thrice the lily's chalices have known The morning dews, and on their petals white The butterflies with wings of dazzling light Have stooped, enthroned, and drank the drops that shone, And then with life's new knowledge upward flown : — So I, in these June days, have gained a height Larger than when that last good-night I spake. I have stood radiant on Love's sweet brink, Seeing the waters rise that I might drink And my soul's thirst in its pure waters slake, Nor doubted power of Love's new wings, to break To a new Heaven divine as angels think. so A CYCLE OF SONNETS XL T WENT and looked up to the summer sky When you were gone, O sweet, that I might stay Unreached by words, and life's new fulness lay Beyond the snowy clouds that drifted by ; I could not place you in my thoughts too high, You were inseparate from the golden day. And Nature veined with you, in some sweet way, I felt its strong, swift pulses swifter fly : — Ah, since I know you all the world is fair. The notes I miss in harmonies you lend, I say I love you, almost unaware. Yet say it as some message I might send Across the skies through Heaven's diviner air To saintly soul of some immortal friend. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 5^ XLI r\ NIGHTINGALE that singest to the rose, ^-^ Lend me thy voice my Love's return to sing, And blow, ye breezes, and the tidings bring To every flower that in the valley grows. The humming-bird may hear it, as he blows His scarlet trumpet, and on airy wing The whole vine's trumpets sound until they ring AU through the air sweet secret that he knows. But thou, O sky, ineffably divine. Thou wilt not need be told, for thou wilt lean And see her kneeling at thy azure shrine. And she will meet thine eyes with look serene Waiting her welcome, till with flushing fine Thou smil'st, as queen who meets another queen. 52 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XLII A ND thou, O butterfly with yellow wings Like banners for some festal day unfurled, Go, flaunt them in the sunshine through the world, As one that news of some great jubilee brings, And O ye wild bees with your golden rings Decked as for marriage, ere the dews are hurled From out the lilies in their cups impearled, Tell it to Heaven that knows divinest things. And I will walk the ways with noiseless feet As in a temple sacred set apart. Where feast of Love is spread, and I will meet This solemn glory with a solemn heart, And Thou wilt not reproach me that I eat O Thou sweet Christ — because all Love Thou art. A CYCLE Of SOJVJVETS S3 XLIII npHOU gavest me a flower last time we met, -^ A shining lily, and then turned away. And all the glory faded from the day. And even the lily died with its regret. And since — I count the suns that rise and set To know thy coming, and oft turn to stray Along the river's brink, and watch the sway Of lilies rocked as rocks my amulet. And when the moon wakes, and the current's flow Upon the shore in sweet beseeching dies, I wonder if the moon's base heart will show The love and longing in mine own that lies. If in some occult moment thou wilt know More than the river's music or its sighs ? 54 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XLIV (~\ WIND, blow softly 'cross the mountain peaks, ^^^ Blow softly south till thou shalt kiss the gold Of my beloved's hair : thou canst be bold To touch her brow, or lightly fan her cheeks. Be bold, and waft me back each word she speaks. Yet but to Heaven her dreams she may unfold. To whip-poor-will alone her heart be told. And chance some higher messenger she seeks. Softly blow, soft darkness floods the west. And a pale star is shining soft and clear, And through the purple distance, from its nest. The voice of a lone whip-poor-will I hear Plaintive with pain of its love-laden breast ; And hush ! yon great star shines like Heaven's warm tear. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 55 XLV TTERE is midsummer — let midsummer, bold In its omnipotence of beauty, say What is too high for words — let golden lay Of some new radiant-plumaged bird, down rolled In notes of silvery tenderness, unfold Lcwe's mighty power — let morning sunbeams stay Transfixed in the azalias' breasts, till they Are turned with rapture's passion into gold. Let scarlet moons, like Night's great hearts of fire, Beat silently o'er roses, till they know Their tides run red, and life's new forces throw To perfumes beating upward higher and higher. Nor even then can all the Summer show Pathos of my ineffable desire. 5 5 A CYCLE OF SONNETS XLVI (~\ VIRGIN moon, upclimbing in the sky ^-^ To waiting breast of Heaven, thou guardest fair The ocean's secrets, and with holy air, Like a pale nun that holds the cloister key. Thou lookest down in thy serenity Impenetrably deep, as to declare ' Thy light outstretched has barred in mysteries there Nor eyes of Night, nor even thyself can see. And from thy face I turn to the pure face Of my young Love, who knowest in her rapt way Secrets than thine more mighty, and whose place Is higher than thine, and yet consents to stay And flood my love's great sea with her white grace. Shining as thou, with light transcending day. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 57 XLVII (~\ MY beloved, when I feel the glow ^^ Of thy pure radiant spirit meeting mine, I am uplifted to a joy divine, And in thy presence holier-hearted grow. All things are new — I feel the rush and glow Of mighty currents, and am drowned in shine Of an immortal Sun, nor can give sign, But only into trembling silence go. ' Deep answers unto deep ' — listening I hear Through spaces far, a voice star-noted rise. And to its glittering height am lifted near, With the full glory falling on mine eyes I know no limits — all the way is clear. My soul with thine, song-plumaged, sweeps the skies. 58 A CYCLE OF SOJVJ\r£TS XLVIII 'T'HE birds are seeking refuge, and the sky Like a great soul in travail shrouds its woe In sheets of blackness, and cold, shuddering, blow The affrighted leaves — and in the pastures by. The shrinking kine are huddling helplessly, And like huge monuments set up to show Some giant monarch's awful overthrow. In sable gulfs the crests of mountains lie. And thou, beloved — dost thou shrink to see Upon the horizon through great fissures break Blue flames, as if from fires of Hell set free, Or with the thunders' loosed artillery quake ? Or dost thou, holding in thy heart Love's key At feet of Christ, the sacrament partake ? A CYCLE OF SONNETS 59 XLIX 'T^HE birds are singing, and the storm is done, -^ And the great soul of Heaven is hushed to rest, And the wet leaves are shining joy confessed, And the young lambs are glad, and one by one The herds go westward as to meet the sun — And a great glory lights the mountains' crest. As if the sleeping King were shriven and blessed, And had at last peace and oblivion won : Where art thou, best beloved ? dost thou hear The happy birds that sing, or see shine fair Upon the azure, growing deep and clear The great sun shaking out his sunset hair — Or dost thou to some messenger lend ear Whose name is Love, clad like thyself in prayer? 6o A CYCLE OF SONNETS T BRING to you a rose divinely fair, -*■ By suns and moons and gentle dews caressed, To wear, beloved, on your happy breast That holdest all of summer unaware. Swift opening, it will throw upon the air Passion of fragrance, in divine unrest — As haunting thoughts, that written with tears, attest The song divine is altar of despair : O love, the rose is tragedy — to-day In mystery of its bloom it may unclose, To-morrow crushed, it may be flung away, Yet if at last, from your young heart it goes However brief its joy, who would not say Better than life less sweet to be a dead, dead rose. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 6 1 LI ' I ""HE August moon in the pale sky hangs low As yearning to thy heart, beloved, where All summer beauty lies, and shining fair Floods thy dear face with a mysterious glow ; Thou seem'st a vision 'mid the flowers that blow, And leaves above thee tremble in the air As of the moonlight and of thee aware. And from thy lips strange music seems to flow. O vision beautiful, I breathe a sigh Lest thou be wafted like some saint away : — Nearer thy heart the young moon seems to lie. As if to pierce it with some Heavenly ray. Yet were the moon out-blotted from the sky The void would pulse with light if thou but stay. 62 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LII "P*ROM out my dreaming soul — kept all unseen - I take its warmest colors, to portray Thy happy face, beloved, that day by day Is lifted into beauty more serene. And wear'st unconsciously a loftier mien As if thou heard'st the planets on their way, And to their music tuned, could'st scarcely stay Thy wings from traversing the height between ; And yet howe'er I strive the tints seem cold. What is divine, O sweet, I cannot paint — Thy mouth's curve, eyes' expression may be bold. But hues of Love itself were all too faint, Unless from out Love's sun I take the gold And round thy brow draw halo of a Saint. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 63 LIII f~\ SAPPHIRE Ocean stretching to the sky, ^-^ Whereon the white ships glide, and glide from sight, Let thy great heart heave with supreme delight. And, on the shore where pebbles glittering lie, Let thy soft waves sing with new ecstasy. And break upon the rocks with foam more white, And gentler rock the sea-gulls stayed in flight — For my beloved unto thee is nigh, And does her hair upon the wind-blown beach Like rays of gold in the deep sunlight shine. And does she hear thy undertone beseech, And list the sea-shells that the hollows line, And does she, as she hears their murmuring speech. Ponder if it is Love's deep tone or thine? 64 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LIV 'X'HOU wert stretched motionless, O sea, in maze Of light ineffable, borne from the west, And the red sun had bared his burning breast Ere he should plunge to thee, and his last rays Had flung great opals o'er thy chrysoprase In dazzling lines of changing fires to rest. And one great ship, as if in glory quest. Moved slowly on, with rainbows all ablaze ; And we, we watched the crimson clouds go by, And flush to rose the shore erewhile so white, And saw a phantom ship that sailed on high, Mirage of rainbowed ship still left in sight. And through the channel of the sunset sky Seemed sailing in that Heavenly ship to light. A CYCLE OF SOJV^ATETS 65 LV A ND like a ship on fire adown the west The red sun sailed and sailed, and still we stayed To watch the coming of the twilight shade, And lo ! the moon came up, as if in quest Of the slow sinking ship, that seemed to breast The heated waves until the wreck was laid, — And even then the scattered fires essayed Of the whole sky's expanse to be possessed. And when the fires died out, and calm and white Shone out the tranquil moon, I drew thee nigh. And saw upon thy face a mystic light, A happy look, unutterably high. And kissed thee, trembling lest from out my sight Thou, too, should'st melt like glory from the sky. 66 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LVI A S scarlet flowers upon the coast give sign — When in wild, fragile loveliness they grow — Of the day's coming sun or shadow, so Love can, when watched by Love, its moods divine. Feeling the distant rain's o'erhanging line, As leaves that into sudden shrinking go With countless dreams all tingled into woe It cannot clear, yet cannot half define. Who can gainsay this subtle power that sweeps Two souls to harmony so fine and true That while one measures loss, the other weeps As o'er a darkened grave whose sods are new ! My heart with thine such perfect measure keeps Thy pangs are borne as in mine own they grew. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 67 LVII T SAT onfe day with ocean at my feet Dreaming, O my beloved, of Love and thee, And saw the passion of the fuller sea As into it the wild waves madly beat, And heard the music of their slow retreat Smiting the shore like sighs of ecstasy, That left thereon the sea-shell, as for me, Pink with the ocean's secrets vast and sweet. The blushing sea-shells, lying on the shore, — Though dreaming still, I can no longer see. The surges with their sobbing and their roar. Now thou art here, are silent unto me. And ocean at my feet cries out no more ; But I, I evermore cry out for thee. 68 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LVIII T OVE, when I say ' I love you ' you will know ■^ It means a passion hotter than despair ; It meanSj when skies are blue and days are fair, That clouds write out in shadows, as they go, My blissful secret on the grass below, — That sunsets flame it to the skies aware, — That thrushes sing it in the summer air, — That torrents tell it in their overflow : Yet should I say it, Love, it were in vain Unless your soul knew the same strange delight. Felt the same sweet, divine, unresting pain. And when I say it, all the heavens in sight With forked lightnings will be rent in twain. For storms alone can show my passion's might. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 69 LIX /^OOD-NIGHT, beloved, let the dark enfold, ^^ And brooding shadows in their purple grace Fall soft as sunshine on thy noble face, And all secure, as if the morning bold Were watching thee upon its throne of gold ; Let solemn night encompass and embrace, Let the moon watch thee from its lofty place. And the stars hush thy soul to peace untold : Sleep weU, sleep well, and let thy silent palms — Like some white saint's, chance folded on thy breast — Shut softly in, the while you softly rest, Snowy infinities of snowy calms, A flood of dreams as heavenly sweet as psalms, And yet — wake. Love — I want the dreams expressed. "JO A CYCLE OF SONNETS LX TF thou wouldst stay the tumult of my heart, Kiss me with thy calm lips so angel-wise Where Peace ineffable divinely lies, And on my brow, whose shadows will depart, A star will shine ; and drawn by Love's strange art To Love's new zone, kiss me as one who buys The bliss of Heaven from an abyss of sighs, And following thy wings will need no chart ; O virgin pure ! Kiss me to-day, to-night, To-morrow, all the days that come and go, Until my soul shall grow divinely white. Then kiss me, dead, and lend my spirit's flight Passion of impetus that I may know First, last, forever — Love is infinite. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 71 LXI A ND yesterday the fleeting Summer went, •^*- And I was tender sad, because I knew That the wild roses' blooming time was through. But to my sadness thou wouldst not consent. And thou wert beautiful in thy content, And looking in thine eyes so gentian blue, I saw June stayed as things divinest do ; And in its perfect heart a Heaven was pent. And now to thee, gay plumes waft welcomes bold, As Spring's white lilies wafted welcomes shy ; And I look down upon the shining gold Of thy young sun-kissed hair, nor can deny This day is fair as Summer's self could hold Divine refrain to Summer's ecstasy. 7? A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXII CHRISTMAS "D EVERENT I come, O sweet, with head bent low, ■*-^ To bring to you a gift more consecrate Than all beside : — I will ope wide the gate To Love's eternal anguish, and thus show What it will cost you if herein you go. That even rapture wrings and tears await The eyes that visions see : — nor yet too late — If shrinking from the shadow of my woe You say farewell, and turn from Love away — Yet if you stay, then I will be as true — Touching your lips in Christ's sweet name to-day — As life itself, as death itself, to you. Nor howsoe'er divine shall I dare say Worn on thy heart, Love's gift will not pierce through. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 73 LXIII A LTHOUGH the pallid sun delays to rise, "^ And swift declines as if to shun the snow, It is not Winter — nay, though tempests blow, And rifts of fallen sleet may frozen rise To crown the hills, and 'neath the lowering skies Beckon weird trees, yet like a sun I know The warmth of thy dear presence, and its glow Lights up ray way, and to my happy eyes No June where blooms the rose, though set apart For its resplendent skies — were half as fair. Divinest dreams shape radiant in my heart The perfect Summer, and Love's rose is there. O rose from Heaven, a fugitive thou art, And as still left in Heaven thy thorns forbear. 74 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXIV T READ a legend in my earlier years ■*■ Of Moorish princess decked, when lying dead, With rose that on her silent heart grew red — Though white when placed — wet with her lover's tears. O sweet ! the legend unto me appears But as a truth, for shouldst thou bend thy head. And breathe my name with sighs, I should be led To break death's seal and smile, as one who hears. And shouldst thou, like that poet lover, place A white rose on my heart, I should forget That I were dead, and feel the red blood race Through my chilled veins until the rose it met. And though I died again, of thy fair face Should dream in Heaven, and even in Heaven regret. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 7$ LXV A S print of noiseless centuries is shown ■'-^ On the veined crystal — so, dear, I would lead Through my soul's eras to its present need ; You are so dear to me that you have known How each new vein within my heart has grown — Wrought from the force of pain — nor do I heed That side by side with pain this joy you read ; Nay ! I am glorified my Love to own. Dear, I have known such anguish it may mark My Love a crystal, chance you will not scorn ; I am no longer compassed with the dark. But thy great love across my heart is borne Spanning it with radiance of an arc Transfiguring it as the sun transfigures mom. 76 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXVI T SOMETIMES think, O love, it would be sweet To be a statue, hewn to marble sleep. And never through my veins to feel the sweep Of passionate emotions running fleet ; Never again life's tragedies to meet, Never above beloved graves to weep. Nor even again to see thine eyes that keep Heaven's light, as if my longing to complete. But empty then the silence that were mine, And peace were nought to an untired breast. Nay! rather let death lift to sleep divine, But do not stoop, O Love, to kiss me, lest — While in thy heavenly eyes hot tears might shine — My loosened heart should beat, won from its new-found rest. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 77 LXVII T SENT thee roses that they might unfold, ■^ And tender breathe what I can never say ; Yet only when their leaves have dropt away, And they have bared to thee their hearts of gold, Giving thee all, beloved, shall I hold That they the longings of my soul obey : Thus, with supreme devotion, I would lay My whole heart down, and then weep Love untold. Love ! Let Love weep ! or else its joy might make A burden too divinely sweet to bear, Yet who would shrink one pang the more to take — Breasting a tide tumultuous as despair — If tired with sorrow, bliss the heart should break, And Death, eternity of Love declare. 78 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXVIII T AM not fretted, though I oft recall I am thy slave, yet chosen thy slave to be Were more than if all others should decree A royal sceptre mine, for I might fall From sovereignty, and seek to hide like Saul, Yet in some silent way to watch o'er thee. To worship thee as star, yet leave thee free, What kingdom could compare with such sweet thrall ! Heavy upon thy soul the world's woes rest, Thy pitying hands are constant reached to save. If I could bear thy pangs within my breast Wounded to death, this only would I crave For my great love that thou shouldst stand confessed I died as King who lived content as slave. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 79 LXIX /^FT when I look in thy young eyes that beam ^-^ With the remembered joys of Heaven, and hear Thy words' sweet music fit for angel's ear, I wonder not that Beatrice was theme Of Dante's song, or that in every dream She held celestial sway, for it is clear Thy love has the same spell, and lights appear As from their Paradise on me to shine. Ah, through what wondrous spheres I have been led : And could my soul gain stature fit for thine, The living were eclipsed, and all the dead, For Genius nor any fame is mine. But thou hast placed upon my uncrowned head A crown than even Dante's more divine. 8o A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXX T OFTEN think, Love, you were waked from sleep ■^ Of some white Goddess so divinely fair Your beauty smote to life ; and all aware You blushed and smiled and could no longer keep The cold white silence, but with sudden leap To fire divine, drew to your flooding hair — As if the glory of the sun to share — Its dazzling rays above your brow to sweep. And looking at the pathos of your eyes, I dreamed that Heaven so all-enamored grew, It gave back all the light that in it lies, And wakened ecstasy of life in you, Till stirred by music of the centuries, In your tranced marble veins the blood poured through. A CYCLE OF SOJ\rJV£TS 8i LXXI IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY T OVE has no country, sweet, Love has no place •*—" In dim cathedral, where the shadows bide. And the majestic dead sleep side by side. From Poets' sculptured calm I turn to trace How their immortal voices roUed through space, How all the muffling mists of Time defied, And smitten by their echoes, like a tide My thoughts engulf me — as in high embrace I feel thy living warmth — I sweep the air — I cleave the sea — I melt to thee afar. My heart's fire bursts to flame and in its glare. The sun's rays but as arrowed shadows are : Awhile the heavens enwrap me, and I share On its blue breast white mystery of a star. 82 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXII (~^ O, restless world, whose pleasures are not new, ^^ And careless of my presence pass me by. I want to lay my heart against the sky, And let Love's mighty symphony beat through. Nay more, I want to kiss away its blue And find myself ethereal, in a high White dream of my beloved, that will fly And silently her happy thoughts pursue. The very sun has softly veiled its light, As if it knew that I would shun its glare. And when in darkness I am hidden from sight Ere the sweet, loitering moon shines out aware. Then I will kiss, unseen, the air of night, And let it float itself to Heaven, a prayer. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 83 LXXIII T STAND abased at your great love for me, Because your soul is mountains higher than mine. And yet, O Love, I count it not as sign Of worth in me, though I can better see Lifted to your Love's height what Love may be, But only from the sun's rays comes the shine On sighing seas, — and hand that pours the wine Sets what were else the prisoned sparkle free. Knowing where you have placed me, I could weep The impotence that holds me lower down, I would aspire if but your love to keep. And so made royal, wear it for my crown. Nay, dying, it will be enough renown If you but sigh for me the while I sleep. 84 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXIV (~\ TENDER eyes with meanings infinite, ^^ ' Look into mine again,' I turned to say In the pale golden light of dying day — Look up once more and say to me. Good-night, For I have fever-thirst that only sight Of thy young face, soft smiling, can allay. And for the music bluebirds make in May I languish, till I hear thy footsteps light. Ah ! such a wistful, foolish heart is mine, I half forget how long the way that lies Betwixt the Spring's first coining and its sign. Sweet 1 say good-night once more ere sunset dies, And hidden joy of Spring I may divine, Seeing the early violets in thine eyes. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 85 LXXV /^FT-TIMES, belovdd, when I waken at night, ^-^ I eager search my soul, and scan it well, That I some loftier thoughts to thee may tell, When I shall see thee in the morning's light. I cannot scale Olympus, and the sight Of dreams that baffle me, is like a knell Rung over mighty graves : there is no Hell Like that to which men sink from ungained height. I would be great thy greater soul to read. To better understand thine eyes divine That are to me the proofs of Heaven indeed ; I am unworthy to worship at thy shrine, Yet gods might envy, since thou hast decreed. Despite my failures, that thy heart is mine. 86 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXVI A /TY Love awaits me with expectant eyes, ^^ Lest on her threshold I unseen should stand, And she be not the first to take my hand. And give me countless welcomes such as rise From souls of angels needing no disguise. My heart is by her Love auroral spanned, And I forget the pleasures I have planned In greater one that being near her, lies, And as upon the heavens the planets shine, Her soul holds sphere on sphere of high desire That 'neath her bosom's snow are rayed in fire, And place in every radiant sphere is mine. Nor can I fitting sing, until divine In Love's own place I hold Love's perfect lyre. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 87 LXXVII 'X'HOU took'st me once to an Arcadian dell ■*- To hear a waterfall its music throw In rushing symphonies to gulfs below ; And what the path we took I cannot tell, I only know each wild-flower held a spell As blown in Heaven, and that thy feet below The shadows into rainbows seemed to grow, And every rainbow led to Heaven as well. There must be days in Love, as days in Spring, When light is so omnipotent, it stays With hush of splendor, bluebirds poised to sing ; But mine was hush that falls on one who prays. For at thy feet I seemed to see outswing Two noiseless gates with jasper all ablaze. 88 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXVIII T^EAR ! In some larger life your soul will know ■*-^ How fathomless the Love that in me lies, And I shall look with calm, untroubled eyes Into your own, and starry-winged shall go — Shaping my course with yours — the while I know The space's magnitudes through which we rise, Unmarvelling at the white infinities That round and in us both will seem to flow. Then with the mystic glory angels share, Heart of my heart, you will look down on me. And know the earthly shackles that we bear From pinnacles of Pain are smitten free. That in the great eternal otherwhere Love's largest power is Love's large liberty. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 89 LXXIX "W'OU brought me as an Easter offering Annunciation lilies pure and fair ; Haply you knew that brighter flowers might bear My memories to pain, awakening Significant regrets these would not bring — Sweet, when they shall have died they will not share The fate of other flowers, for I shall wear Forever in my heart their hint of spring. Haunted with their sweet perfumes I shall keep. And as some gift divine your love shall hide. What wonder holding that I cannot sleep. And sleepless that I seem to stand beside A sea whose waves are gathering force to leap And drown my heart with joy's unfathomed tide. 90 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXX T WONDER not, sweet, that my words convey. Because less high than thine, a sense of wrong : Thou'rt Hke a soaring lark, that stayest song Because its mate Heaven-lifted cannot stay. Yet who is so song-brimmed that the delay Tears its own bosom till the sweet notes throng, And spite the shadow it is borne along To a fine rapture, as is oft thy way — And I am shriven, sweet, when my heart I show, Thou knowest what pain is mine to hear thy sighs. Thou art the golden light to which I go, The Heaven-swept lark within whose music lies Divinest pathos of divinest woe. Poured to an avalanche of melodies. A CYCLE OF SONNETS 91 LXXXI f~\ LOVE, how shall I celebrate this day ! — ^^ This day when thy sweet angelhood began, When earth was all so glad its joy o'erran In lilies clustering round the new-born May. The Heaven's great banner spreads above thy way. And music multiplies, and bluebirds scan The sunrise o'er thee singing as Love can In Love's great chorus, with no note astray ; And were the voices of the Spring all mine, Ecstatic voices with ecstatic themes. Too faint my song to lay upon thy shrine. Though higher than birds or winds or loosened streams ; For thou art tuned to music more divine And hearest fairer, even in thy dreams. 92 A CYCLE OF SONNETS LXXXII TF I should be pursued by dark-winged Pain, And stand 'neath shadow of his awful eyes, What power would come to soothe my burning sighs - How should I ever smile at Peace again ? For in Pain's grasp, my stony face I fain Should wish to hide, lest the old tragedies Might in the whirlpool of new anguish rise. And bring me back my dead despairs again. Then stiU and cold as death if I should show Passion of an illimitable woe, So great, nor even your love could bear away, So strong, nor even the Heaven above could sway — Hide me within your heart — and let me stay Till warmed to life my frozen tears should flow. A CYCLE OF SONNETS. 93 LXXXIII r\ PITYING Christ, couldst not this cup forbear? ^-'^ Where shall I wander in my quenchless woe ? Not where the moon with pallid heart yearns low — Wasted and wan — as of some loss aware, Not where the lights of countless stars will flare As hurrying toward a fairer star they go. Not where the cruel Sun will dazzling show, To flowers that still can bloom, its wanton glare. What shall assuage this tearless agony? Canst Thou 'not touch her heavy-lidded eyes, Canst Thou not bid her rise and speak to me Who liest smiling as with glad surprise ? Hast Thou too died, O Christ? then let me flee Into the night — made black with Calvarys.