Cornell University Library PR4161.B39V5 Verses of the wayside. 3 1924 013 438 571 The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013438571 CONTENTS. PAGE TO PSYCHE ...... I TO A FLOWER ...... 4 NORWAY ....... 7 UNDINE , . . . . . .II 'HER TRESSES ARE NIGHT, AND HER EYES SUN- LIGHT" . . . . .17 lANTHE . ... 21 THE ELFIN HORN ... .28 SILVIA . .... 40 NARCISSUS .... .43 BY THE SEA . . . . .5° SHADOW LAND . . . . . .58 "go, song, and FALL AT SILyiA'S FEET, AND SAY" 62 CONTENTS. "SHINE ON, SWEET STAR, UNNAMED; NOR EVER KNOW" . . .64 CORINNE ....-•• 66 LUCIAN TO CYNTHIA . . ■ -69 REGRET ....... 71 what the knight said ■ ■ 1^ what the lady said . . -78 gamaliel ..... 80 gloriana's canary .... 84 bito and cleobis ... -87 MALVERN ..... -94 THE SONG OF THE LAUREL -97 TO-MORROW ..... 105 "DEW ON Tftf HEATHER, BLOOM ON THE ROSE- LEAF, LIGHT IN THE SKIES " .III TO HERMIONE .... • "3 THE PALACE OF CIRCE . . 1 16 THE ROSE AND THE NIGHTINGALE 121 OMNES EODEM . . ... I26 "GIVE ME THE FLOWER, THAT IN YOUR BOSOM BLOWING" . . . . .130 CONTENTS. PACE SILENUS . . ... THE CLASSICS . .138 VIA APPIA . . . .140 EXILE .... . . 142 THE SERVICE OF THE GODS . -144 "LIFE AND NEW LIFE — GIVE ME THE CUP ONCE MORE" . . . . . .146 "RETURN," I CRIED, "DARK GROWS THE WAV AND DREAD" . . . . . .148 THE BUTTERFLIES . . .150 ADIEU . . . . . . .152 " I LOVE A FLOWER, BUT WHICH FLOWER OF THE MANY" ..... 154 EX ACADEMIA . . . . . .156 "EVERY LIGHT FAUN FROM EVERY OLIVE GROVE" I58 THE WEATHERCOCK . . . . . 160 ABELARD TO ELOISA . . . . .162 TO CYNTHIA . . . . . . l66 "NYMPHS AND SHEPHERDS, TELL ME WHERE" . 171 "the LAST SAD TIE IS BROKEN" . . -174 GOOD-NIGHT. GOOD-MORNING . . .178 POSCIMUR . . , , • .181 viii CONTENTS. PAGE ENDYMION ...... 184 SCOPULIS SURDIOR ICARIS . . . .186 MEMNON ....... 188 MANQUE . . . . . . .192 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. TO PSYCHE. Lay by our sounding oars, Land on these sunny shores, This is Love's Garden. Here summer aye is sweet : Here comes nor snow nor sleet : Winds nor rains blow nor beat, Where Love is warden. VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Immortal blossoms scent the heavenly air ; Roses deep red ; and lilies debonnair ; And every flower is Love's, and all are fair Within Love's Garden. Watered by living springs, Fanned by his purple wings. Fed with all fragrant things, Here, in Love's Garden, Boughs gather fresh perfume, Young copses gleam and gloom, Fruits soften into bloom. Sweet* l)uds unharden : — The pansies here for wan Ophelia's breast, — Dark Dido's violet crown, — each flowery crest,; TO PSYCHE, Worn long ago by Beauty long at rest, Growg in Love's Garden. " This happy, happy day, Pluck me," you cry, " one spray From Love's bright garden ; Some flower that never dies ; A theft so sweet and wise Ventured in Love's emprise Love's self will pardon.'' Ah, Psyche mine, where mortal joys prevail, Immortal blooms themselves will fade and fail, Once pressed to lovers' lips all flowers grow pale In Love's own Garden. I — a TO A FLOWER. Lie thou upon the grave of one whose cheek And soul were fair and virginal as thou, In silence. Tears are vain, and words are weak. And she hears nothing now, But the great chant and movement of the spheres. The unending harraonjt supremely sweet, Whereof all music is an echo here, And Joy and Life a beat Of which great hymn her life, a little time. Was a far note and image. This she hears, TO A FLOWER. 5 And is upgathered to the march and chime Of the planets and the years, And swells their tuneful tide with her new birth : Nor knows, nor can she know for very bliss, Qow^r death hath made the heaven and all the earth A wreck and wilderness, To him who places here these buds of spring ; Else were her joy undone, To whom the pain of every living thing Was grief to think upon. Lie there. Exhale thy perfume — droop, and fade ; Make the world poor by one more sweetness fled. Die of a little sun or too much shade, As lovelier things are dead. 6 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Emblem of her who was the flower and fruit Of innocence and beauty. Here she shone, So white of heart, that Falsehood's self was mute : An envious wind touched her, and she is gone. Leaving this earth, where her brief lot was cast. The memory of a fragrance and a strain ; To us who loved — the ever present past. Beauty, deep bliss, and an undying pain. NORWAY. Down the still fiords, bay after shining bay We sailed, under the hills, beneath whose breast Sleeps the great sea inviolate alway, Mountain caressed. On either side of us rose Solitude Filling the sky with summits. Each vast height Snow capt, cloud mantled, like a giant stood. Silent and infinite. 8 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Yet were not all things silent — there were cries Of more than mortal anguish and distress, The sad wind grieving down a precipice Into a wilderness Of rained pines, — and stormy water rills JFlashing with foam, which, since the sun first shone, Have thundered down unheeded, and shall still Thunder unheeded on. And moans of wildered birds, and the great beat Of the wanning and the lapping of the sea Likeva cold lover wailing at the feet Of one as cold as he. Sometimes a dusky porpoise slowly wheeled Sunwards in the mid channel ; from his lair NORWAY. Sometimes an eagle, royally revealed, Swam down the fields of air. And underneath us, windless and serene, The ocean forests lay, Long fairy drifts of rainbow woodland scene, Drowned in the purple bay ; Fair realms of fern, more exquisite than ours, More delicate and bright, And endless glades of glimmering seaweed bowers, In golden water light. On such an afternoon to such a place Came sad Undine, and firom some mountain shelf With desolate eyes and melancholy grace, A shadow of herself, 10 VERSES OF THE. WAYSIDE. Beheld in trance her youth return, the same As when, one summer mom, a sister band — Knowledge, and Love, and Grief, — together came, And took her by the hand She felt white arms, that waved or seemed to wave, And, waving, call her downwards to the deep, Where all her fhendly waters, cold and grave, Lay mourning in their sleep. And sighed, and rose, and turned her steps again Along the rock-hewn ledge, where, far aloof. The sunset reddened on a lonely pane And a deserted roof UNDINE. THEY. We have come from the bright Dewy depths of the sea, On this night of all nights Thine attendants to be ; Leaving our cluster Of caverns serene, Alone in their lustre Of silver and green. VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. For the sea caves are lonely without thee, They mourn for thy presence, Undine. As our wont was, we gathered Last sunset At home : ! At midnight, in moonlight, We rose through the foam ; Harnessed, each maiden. Her horses of spray ; And forward, and shoreward We drave through the bay. Speak sister, night flies, and our coursers Are faint with the coming of day. SHE. I hear ye, belovbd, Earth tears us apart. UNDINE. ' 13 Yet think not our waters Less dear to my heart But the sea must behold me No more where it raves ; Fates hold me, arms fold me, Unborn of the waves. Farewell to each foam-bell and billow, Farewell to the bright water caves. THEY. Is it thus with thee, maiden ? Alas ! Even so We came, sorrow laden, Laden we go. 14 VERSES OF THE WA YSWE. Is the spell that has bound thee, Worth wild loving brine ? Are the arms that are round thee So true and divine ? Love that is passion at morning Is pain at the even's decline. HE. Hush, timorous hearted ; Strange sisterhood, cease ; Although ye are parted, Her path wiU be peace. No sorrow shall come To disturb her delight, UNDINE. 1 5 While the hands that upbear her Are strong in their might ; That her step shall be light, That her eye shaU be bright I Swear it, I swear it, I swear it to-night. THEY. We hear thee. Sir Mortal, We go, we are blown On the waves from thy portal : In sad monotone Singing, and drifting Seawards, as snow Which the winds are uplifting And gulphing below. l6 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Yet our care as a garment shall bind her, Nevertheless, as we go. Soon, this new fever Of love overpast. Passion will leave her Awakened at last. When Truth learns to falter, When Faith's bloom has blown. And the fire on the altar Has saddened to stone : In the grey eve of beauty and pleasure She will come through the seas to her own. 17 SONG. Her tresses are night, and her eyes sunlight, And her voice rings full and clearly ; Her Dtcp, whern Ahe treads, it is soft and light - Z*^ i '''^ ^r***** "^ As the breeze on the bending barley ; She dropped a flower as I passed below ; So I ride and I ride, and where'er I go I break a lance for my lady. She looked but once, and she looked me through. As the sun through the oak leaves silting ; i8 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. With her hawk and her jennet, and feather of blue. As she rode mid the dames to tilting. I saw her flush as I dealt my blow. So my bugle I wind, and I sing, What ho ! "Who breaks a lance for his lady? With my spear in rest, and my grey heron's crest. And my pennon merrily flying, I ride to the lists at Love's behest, The good knights loud defying. The heralds they smile, for my banner they know, And they cry to true lovers, What ho ! what bo 1 Who breaks a lance for his lady ? One look to my casque and my shirt of chain. And one to my girths of leather : soyo. 19 I shake my rein on my horse's mane, And we close with a clash together. A splinter, — a shiver ; — What ho ! what ho ! They reel in their saddle and down they go ; Who breaks a lance for his lady ? Then I doff my helm, and I leap me down, The green wreaths gather in showers ; To my squire I fling each silver crown, But I lay at her feet the flowers. One glance I steal as I bend me low. Then I vault to my saddle, and forth we go ; Who breaks a lance for his lady ? So I ride by forest, I ride by lea. By the reedy river I wind me, 20 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Singing — None other is fair as she, The lady I leave behind me. And if ever a good knight saith me no. We turn, and we measure a fiill stone's throw, And I break a lance for my lady. lANTHE. We come from the banquet, lanthe, thy lovers, awake ! We have left the wreathed wine cup, the lights, the rich flowers for thy sake. The banqueting halls are deserted, the spirits of the night From their desolate niches look down in surprise and affright On the vintage half tasted, and glowing in goblets of gold, The cool dripping lilies left lying all wet and unrolled, And the wreck of white tables and couches thrown hastily there 22 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. In our exit, so suddenly came we from revel and glare. Out into the midnight, landie, to tell thee ere morn, thou art fair. We have come from the banquet, lanthe, thy lovers, awake ! Out into the whispering night we have come for thy sake. Each silvery copse is a-fire, and o'er yon mountain bars From peak to dark peak the blue heavens are inwoven with stars. The white-bosomed vapour ascends through the glens from the dew ; The lake is a pavement upheaving with gold and with blue. lANTHE. 23 Through the tops of the forest the night wind is blowing, so cool. And so light that it. stirs not the mosses and sedge in the pool. From the valley you hear the dull sound of the stream- smitten weir, Or the water-fall down through the wood — all is silent elsewhere. Wake, and hear us, lanthe, and learn that, asleep or awake, thou art fair ! We have come from the banquet, lanthe, thy lovers, awake! We have left the rich music, the dances, the song for thy sake. 24 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. The flute player, heated and piqued, with a flush and a frown. By the side of her flute on the dais has flung herself down. She has taken the flowers from her hair, and is pouting to see One and all of her merry admirers have left her for thee. Our slaves, Kke begarlanded atataes, wait heavily there, And watch for our coming again, but we come not, we swear, Till this night we have waked thee, lanthe, to say, thou art fair. We have come from the banquet, lanthe, thy lovert, awake ! lANTHE. 2S We have stripped the rough firs of their branches this night for thy sake. Look out on the lawn from thy lattice, belovfed, and see The torches fling out their red vapour in honour of thee. Oh, their smoke ! th^f hot glare, the bright glow, how they crackle and shine, As they mount through the night to thy casement and rafters of pine. In the midst, like a wild crew of rovers, cloaked figures we stand ISS^ tfur long shadows stretching behmd us, black, gloomy, and grand. Wake, lanthe, and listen ! we go— from thy white curtains there, 26 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Thou wilt hear our song die down the forest as hom we repair, Fare thee well till the morrow, lanthe, farewell, thou art fair. They are gone! hist, lanthe, 'tis I, 'tis thy lover, awake ! I have tarried behind from the crowd unperceived for thy sake. Could I go without telling thee, love, what is well known to thee. That fair as they find thee, the rest, thou art fairer to me. Here without in the night, from thy presence an exile forlorn, I leave a fond kiss on the threshold to greet thee at mom. lANTHE. 27 Sleep, prettiest and dearest lanthe, sleep happily there, Thy white arm thrown carelessly under thy long raven hair, And dream that thy lover is near thee, and says thou art fair. 28 THE ELFIN HORN. When fresh from sea the nightly breeze Blows o'er the shining bays, And dips the giant forest trees In moonlight and in haze. When every dell, and every fell Is veiled in silver white, — Hullo, hola, tra la la la, — Forth ride the fairies bright. THE ELFIN HORN. 29 On such a night, to moon and mist Her lattice flung amain, Stood Bertha, while from wassail tryst Arose the loud refrain : Late hours they keep on Arthur's steep, Deep drinking till the mom, And hark, hola, tra la la la. She heard the Elfin Horn. And looking down she saw beneath A shining cavalcade, Bluebells for helms, in every sheath A trusty fern for blade. Each bore afield a lettuce shield. For spear a lily white, 30 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. ' So ho, hola, tra la la la, Rode by each fairy knight. The moonbeams glittered on their greaves Of plates of dragon fly. Bright body mail from shell of snail, Of every hue and dye. And there was seen the banner green Of Fairyland upborne. While hark, hola, tra la la la, Outrang the fairy Horn. Four Elfin pursuivants in row Four yellow steeds bestrode, A glow-worm at each saddle-bow To light the leafy road. THE ELFIN HORN. 31 And oh ! The Queen's resplendent car It shone with diamond light, As the soft fires of star on star InjeweUed in the night. How fair the view ! Each thicket grew Transfigured at their side, For every land is Fairyland Whereon the fairies ride. The distant nightingales were still, The cuckoo ceased to mourn, So sweet and shrill by dale and hill Was heard the Elfin Horn. And whUe the lady stood to gaze, She seemed at heart to long 32 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. To fly from moody castle ways And sound of wassail song ; Far far away from fret and jar, Sad love, and rude delight, And be for once what fairies are. And ride with them by night To leave behind the fretted heart, The sighs and stings of Ufe, Dull joy where sorrow has a part, And rest so full of strife : Leap lightly down from lattice bar, And follow Jill the mom, — Hullo, hola, tra la la la, — Behind the Elfin Horn. THE ELFIN HORN. 33 Away, away ! The deed was done. She climbed through leaf and flower ; To-morrow's cloudy morning sun Will find an empty bower. Her feet will leave nor dint nor scar Upon the lawns to-night, So fleet and blithe she speeds afar To join the fairies bright What welcome hers, the secret this Alone of Fairyland, — No eye beheld the fairy kiss, The touch of fairy hand. But that she did not wander far A listener might have sworn, 34 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. For hark, hola, tra la la la, A peal of fairy Horn ! Where rode they — moon and dews among,- None saw and none may tell ; What poet's tongue has ever sung T^e haunts where spirits dwell ? What painter limned a scene so fair As we should see to-night, If you, my love, a fairy were. And I an Elfin knight ? They sought her at the morning hour On every winding stair, In chapel shrine, in castle tower. But found no truant there. THE ELFIN HORy. ^5 And fifty men have scoured the glen, And by the Mass are sworn, To ride apace upon her trace, And bring her ere the morn. But vain the horseman's hue and cry From mom till eventide ; For who can hunt when fairies fly, Or find when fairies hide ? Fleet roll the wheels of Elfin car. And lithe they race and light, — So ho, hola, tra la la la, — Who ride with fairy sprite. But after many a month of quest They came, one summer noon. 3—2 VERSES OF THE WA ySIDE. Deep in the mighty forest breast On print of fairy shoon. And, close amid the tangles hid, Beheld through copse and thorn, — Hullo, hola, tra la la la, — A dance to Elfin Horn. And noted in the lissom crew That circled on the green, , Sweet eyes of blue, which once they knew. And hair of golden sheen. Yet could not win her back to wife With prayer, or promise plight, For who would leave a fairy life For love of mortal wight ? TIJE ELFIN HORN. 37 ■ Yet spirits feel for human weal, Repent at mortal pain, The ill they wrought in gay unthought They would not work again. Forth sped beneath the evening star A royal message borne. To call each Elfin councillor By sound of Elfin Horn. And there was writ before the dusk A law on lily scroll, And sealed within the chestnut husk That holds the fairy roll. While heralds twain, with slackened rein Proclaimed adown the night — 38 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Hullo, hola, tra la la la, — The will of fairies bright. That when the Elfin troops abroad Ride out by vale or stream, No lady fair shall follow there, Save only in her dream. Lest ladies' thought should grow distraught. And lords should look forlorn, When hark, hola, tra la la la. They hear an Elfin Horn. But still when soft and fresh the breeze Blows o'er the moonlit bays : Beneath the lovely forest trees March out the merry fays. THE ELFIN HORN. 39 And every lady-love who leans Her cheek on pillow white, — Hullo, hola, tra la la la, — May ride with them to-night. 4° SILVIA. Silvia, every joy attend her, Frank and virginal and true, Throned in merry maiden splendour , SitB receiving homage due. Frowning shyly, smiling brightly. Death and life she launches lightly ; To her feet I draw me nigh, Whispering, with averted eye, " Silvia, must I live or die ?" SILVIA. 41 Smile, and, at thine approbation, Life, becoming honey sweet, Seems a costlier libation, Worth the pouring at thy feet. And I raise my lance and banner. And in ancient knighdy manner. For a gleam from that blue eye. Battle onward till I die. Frown, and, by thine anger smitten, Love and life no more I cherish. On my tomb it shall be written For whose beauty I did perish : " One to whom it was not given " Here on earth to taste of heaven, 42 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. " Underneath this stone doth lie. " Silvia frowned, and bade him die." So I murmur, deeply yearning. But the peerless Queen of Earth Smites me with her glance, and, turning, Smiles in pride and frowns in mirth. Touched with pity of mine anguish. Yet content to see me languish. With a laugh, and with a sigh, She nor lets me live nor die. 43 NARCISSUS. ' Love, of high heaven the fruit and flower and seed, Makes of this mortal earth an orb divine ; Love gives to youth the secret song to read. Hid in the windy music of the pine. Ah ! well is he who on Love's bosom knows Faith unprofaned, and her reward, repose." So rang a distant voice, and, in the quest Of truth so perfect, beauty so serene. At morning through the woods Narcissus pressed — A dreamer, feeding on a hope unseen — 44 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Nor knew the airy voice before him flying Was but an echo of his own sad sighing. At length he came unto a crystal spring, Set in green sedge, and shadowed with tall trees. And, weary of himself and wandering, Sate on the margin, neither all in ease, Nor all in pain, but sweet it seemed to stay Beside so pure a wave, so far away. To that abandoned haunt of rapt repose Scarce comes the truant Faun in floral trim : At most the soft-eyed deer its water knows, A rare and timid drinker at the brim ; Each candid lily on its bosom strewn Blooms and is beauteous for the Gods alone. NARCISSUS. 45 Here on the bank the primrose bathed and burned, A golden Naiad, unpursued of man ; Secure from eyes profane the wavelets turned To kiss her virgin blossom as they ran ; While the wild nightingale, from hour to hour, Pealed the long wedding hymn of wave and flower. And in the stream, lo ! tremulous with life, A face to dream of — beautiful, yet worn — Pale as the Gods in council — sorrow-rife. And yet untouched by time, unswept by scorn ; A countenance of grace and grave surprise. With sad set lips and passion-haunted eyes. And longing smote him, ere his day were flown, To live and drain Love's cup, attain and hold 46 VERSES OF THE WA YSWE. So fair an image, seeming half his own, Yet not his own, but finer and more cold, As white-robed penitents in vision see All they might once have been, and fain would be. And, as he looked, he sobbed with a great sigh ; Till in compassion of his vast desire. And, for he was so fair and like to die. The Spirit of the Waters, half in ire And half in mercy, waved an arm of flame Full in the sunlight ; and Narcissus came. And was not by the river, and, lo ! the breeze, Returning home firom faint tumultuous round Of dalliance with the mosses and the trees. To kiss his cheek and forehead, only found NARCISSUS. 47 Upon the marge one flower, and found no more The pS,le Narcissus on this hither shore. Whether this youth beneath the fountain breast Won truth indeed, no phantom of pale thought Beset with mocking echoes, but clear rest, And the serene ideal that he sought — Or whether, for his impotence of will. And fancied sickness, he was bidden still More shadows in that water-world to woo. We know not ; yet, if eve be quiet eve, And not the threshold of some travel new, With other vainer visions to achieve. By this, his feverish pilgrimage is past. And of all old desires is rest at last 4S VESSMS OF THE WAYSIDE. So passed a dreamer from a world of dream, Leaving but little after him except A memory, and a blossom beside a stream. Which a Muse found, and in her bosom kept, And, roving the green hills and woods among, Inwove into a coronal of song. Perchance some Dryad wept him, for in sooth He was full young and fair unwept to die ; But the wise Gods are pitiless of Youth, And look on Beauty with an equal eye. Knowing the years are rich with flowers unborn, And every tear of eve is dry at morn. And of his name men made a tender theme. And in that theme he lives, if life it be. NARCISSUS. 49 On one side of the irremeable stream To move, a shadow, and, beyond, to see The gleam of our old name in honour whirled And blown at whiles about a younger world. But lo ! ten thousand flowers by that sad brink Budded, and brake, and blew, — pale multitudes Bending of their own loveliness to drink, And quivering, as to voices from the woods : Emblems of him who, before fruit, did fade, Wooed by an echo, lover of a shade. 50. £Y THE SEA. He. Out seaward the ocean Is starless and black. Blown sea dew ^ drifting ; The winds in commotion Are whirled at its back. But the billows uplifting Their crests evermore, Come rolling in music And light to the shore. BY THE SEA. 51 And life was all moonless, And wild the far sea, Its billows but timeless Till flung upon thee. She. Above on the mountain How deep is the night. Each star evanescent Is dim, as a fountain Of water and light. The moon is a crescent, She looks far, away On the splendours unseen Of invisible day: 4—2 52 VERSES OF THE WAYSWE. Half orbed for the meadow, Half light on the sea ; As I am a shadow Illumined of thee. He. High stands the cliff summit In moonlight and breeze. In thunder beneath it, And deeper than plummet, The desolate seas. They rise to enwreathe it, They plunge to its caves. Oh, the wash ! oh, the wail Of the infinite waves ! BY THE SEA. And thou art a daughter Of mountain and sea. And I, a waste water. Upheaving to thee. She. O'er misty sea ledges, White glisten the flock Of seaguUs that gather All night to the edges Of island and rock ; At mom they will feather Their flight o'er the foam, At sunset return To their precipice home. 54 VERSES OF TBE WAYSIDE. Thy heart is a mountain Deep set by the sea. And I, a winged spirit That nestle to thee. He. Along the wet beaches The pebbles are bright ; Seaweed and sea-glimmer Bejewel the reaches As gems of the night. But darker and dimmer The mouth of each cave, And the depth of the caverns Is black as the grave. Sy THE SEA. 55 Thine eyes are the lustre Of stones by the sea, My heart, the cave duster Till lighted by thea She. From watery hollows Sea visions arise. Fast flit o'er the billow The night air that follows, The foam-bell that flies. The wave is the pillow Where, tossed, it abides, And resting for ever Is one with the tides. 56 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Winds drave us together ; Thy love is the sea, And I, a foam feather That drift upon thee. Both. The waters outlive us. Their voices remain. The L'fe that we cherish ■What Genius will give us To live it again ? Cling close, ere we perish, For soon we shall be As the flake to the sea-wind, The drift to the sea ; BY THE SEA. As a shimmer beholden By night on the breeze, Ere morning the golden Enkindles the seas. 57 58 SHADOW-LAND. Far, far aloof from Oljrmpus and its thunder, Lost midway in the spaces of the night, Lies a dim wilderness of vanity and wonder, Half within darkness and half amid the light. Stray suns visit it : the callow moon has found it : Sad seas circle it, a melancholy strand ; Dreams impeople it, and shadows are around it, And the Gods know it as the distant Shadow-Land. SHADOW-LAND. 59 Phantom music of Coronach and Psean Rolls wind-bome to the sky for evermore ; Sun-mists open, and reveal to Empyrean How shadows live on the visionary shore. Life that were sleep, but for dreams that overcome her, Smiles that are tears, and ambition that is pain, Hopes unharvested, and springs without a summer, Round the sad year, and renew themselves again. All things there suffer death and alteration. Fair flowers bloom for a season and are bright, Songs over-sweet but outlive a generation. Ring for a little and are gathered into night. Cycles decay and their sepulchres -are tracelecc,^*-**-*^^'^^*'^^*'' "^ Kingdoms depart and their palaces are sand, 6o VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Names unchronicled, and rolnmna t jint- nrn hnnolnr .?; Fill the lost annals of the distant Shadow-Land. Here great souls, in a plenitude of vision, Planned high deeds as immortal as the sun ; Winds sang their requiem, and had them in derision^ Thoughts left in cloudland ; purposes undone. Here sate Youth with the crown her lover brought her, Fond words woven for her coronal to be ; Brief lived, beautiful, she laid it by the water — Time's waves carried it, and whelmed it in the sea. What spirits these so forsaken and so jaded : White plumes stained and apparel that is rent : Wild eyes dim with ideals which have faded : Weary feet wearily resting in ascent ? SHADOW-LAND. 6i Heroes and patriots, a company benighted, Looking back drearily they see, along the plain. Many a bright beacon which liberty had lighted Dying out slowly in the wind and in the rain. " Ah ! sad realms, where the ripest of the meadows Bring bitter seeds to maturity," I cried ; "Ah, sweet life, wh» would change thee for the shadows ! Take me again to earth's summers, O my guide !" Smiling he answered me, " Thy journey home is ended. Raise up thine eyes, and behold on either hand ;" Straightway lifting them, I saw and comprehended, Earth was herself the Gods' distant Shadow-Land. 62 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Go, Song, and fall at Silvia's feet, and say, Thou art not Love, — ^but from a frozen sky That knows not of Love's name nor of Love's way, Hast fluttered idly to her door to die. Shake from thy plumes, before thou meet her eye, All passion — ^veil thy gaze, forget thy pain, And, if she take thee on her heart to lie, Become a thing of beauty, a soft strain rilling her dreams with music. Should she deign To ask what bird in what enchanted groVe VERSES OP THE WA YSWE. 63 Taught thee a note so tender, swear again, By all, thou holdest dear, it was not Love ; Else will she drive thee, Song, inta the night, And lost my toil will be, and thy delight. 64 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Shine on, sweet star, unnamed : nor'ever know The kingdoms that thy beauty holds in fee, Travel round other suns : thy beams bestow On other worlds thy satellites that be. I am borne, I am driven, I drift away from thee, Down the black waves remote from planet light, Unpiloted, unbeaconed. The great sea Hath me, within the hollows of the night Perchance in years afar, with finger white, On some fair holiday when hours prove long, VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Turning this page my love in sweet af&ight Will marvel at herself embalmed in song ; Nor find it in her gracious soul to blame The sad drowned verse that never spoke her name. 66 CORINNE. 'TwAS but in June — and this is still September, And yet, Corinne, and yet, What Ups of mine for ever must remember Your eyes forget. One ghostly happy night, where Dreamland closes, Love's face methought we knew, As with winged feet of light among the roses, He lit, and flew ; CORINNE. 67 Saw his fair fleeting smile, the shining glamour Shaken from each false plume ; And heard with beating pulse the mystic clamour That stirred the garden bloom ; A tumult and a triumph Hymensean, — Moon-smitten leaf and spray. Trembling and heaving to his golden Paean Till forth he winged his way. A dream \ a dream .' a dream ! — not hence nor hither Came Love, nor ever flew ; 'Tis but to look in your cold eyes to gather, That memory is untrue. 5—2 68 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. And yet — this throbbing heart, a glowing ember, These veins that riot yet. Seem still, Corinne, to swear that they remember What eyes of yours forget."" 69 LUCIAN TO CYNTHIA. Dear face, so sweet, and sweeter for the years That wavelike break and break — what hymn of praise Shall be thine own upon this day of days ? What flower made bright by morning's dewy tears Crown thy beloved hair ? All words are old. All flowers outworn with time. I seek in vain An undiscovered bloom ; some virgin strain Of worship unimagined, love untold. 70 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. So take this rose, love's flower, nor deem less fond My one monotonous song, that I have found Repose and guidance for my soul in thee. When all behind was night, and all beyond — A windy waste of waters, and, around. The lights and foam and thunder of the sea. 71 REGRET. Beautiful May, since you and I Met, full many a year is fled ; Many a Spring has blossomed by. Many a passion-flower is dead ; Golden hairs are silver gray ; Even you are older — beautiM May. When last in English lanes we met Beneath the temple of the noon, 72 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. The wild white hedge with hawthorn set Gave promise of a glorious June. I keep one blossom still to-day ; Do you remember, beautiful May ? That year, the royal summer shone In bloom of flower and greenery : But what was left, when June was gone And Autumn come, to you and me. Wherewith to face the worldly strife. The long anxieties of life ? Arcadia : Dreamland : memories sweet : Tender ideals all unstained : REGRET. 73 No idol trampled under feet : No friendship lost : no faith profaned : But leaves, though faded, precious still, And cherished with a constant will. Not to have tasted, is the best. The wine of bliss, so rich, so clear, To which our mortal lips are pressed, Once drank on earth makes heaven less dear. Give me the fever of the soul j Sweeter its thirst than any bowl. 'Tis fancy's magic cup alone Avails to feed and fire the heart. 74 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. The graven Gods on yonder stone Grouped by the carver's cunning art, If into sudden life they leapt, Would live less gladly than they slept. " Ah, bring us back" — they soon would sigh- " The marble rest from which we sprang, The long enchantment of the eye, Set lips, whereon no laughter rang. Delights eternally delayed. And promised kisses, never paid." Dear May, if youth in dreams has gone, If life untasted lifeless seems, REGRET. 75 'Tis better to be dreaming on, Than to have dreamed and waked from dreams. Only the future and the past Are joys that do for ever last. 76 WHAT THE KNIGHT SAID. Dear love, I go, I go ; Knights may not dally. When the loud bugles blow War through the valley. One whisper sweet and low, Ere we be parted ; One loving kiss, to show Thou art true hearted. IVHAT THE KNIGHT SAID. 77 This morn we meet the foe ; Thou, that hast loved me so, Look from thy bower ; Wave once thy hand of snow, And, as I pass below, Fling me one flower. I, while I wend me fro, Turning to find thee, Shall see a face I know Glowing behind me ; And thy good knight shall grow Strong where they need him, Knowing thy soul doth go With him to speed him. 78 WHAT THE LADY SAID. Ripe forth, my soldier true. Yes, 'twas the bugle blew Far down below thee. Since first thy spirit drew Mine, like the sun the dew, Sweet heart, I know thee. Love, kiss me through and through ; Take thy brave bonnet ; WHAT THE LADY SAW. 79 This leaf I bind thereto, Round it, and oft it. Till thou art lost to view, We, from our casement. Watching thy banner blue Round the hill basement, Bid thee a long adieu. Ride on to dare and do ; This thought shall cheer thee ; That I, thy lady true, Ride in heart near thee. 8o GAMALIEL. By the golden ladder rail Climbing to Jehovah's veil, Stands, a naked sword revealing, Michael, clad in beamy mail. Israel's tribes, devoutly kneeling. Knee on knee, and stair by stair, Through the terraces of air To the throne of God repair. GAMALIEL. 8l Whoso, midway tO' the Lord, Stumbles, hasting heavenward, Headlong, as a thunder smitten, Falls upon the angel sword. From Samaria, it is written, Came Gamaliel by, and saw Reverent Israel upwards draw Towards the knowledge of the law. Said the Rabbi — " Must they fare ThnS', who climb the golden stair ; Straightway, if they fail, descending To Gehenna and despair ?" Quoth the angel — " Even so, Such a fall has such an ending ; VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Through the peril all must go Whoso seek the Lord to know.'' Said Gamaliel — " Knowledge such Be for priest and seer to touch ; Mine to wait without his portal, Knowing nothing, loving much." So he spake ; — and in a trance Heaven lay open to his glance. And he saw the hosts immortal Who behold God's countenance. And partake the living manna ; Saw afar, in bended row, Israel kneeling, long and low. Mid the Cherubim, who know. GAMALIEL. 83 Higher still, and far above, Burning as a burnished dove. Singing loud and sweet Hosanna, Stood the Seraphim, who love. 6—2 $4 ON GLORI ANA'S CANARY. Fly gently, feathered travellers, by, He who in silence here doth lie, Was a canary, fair to see, So blithe, and bright, and fancy free, So velvet plumed, so silver throated, And to his lady so devoted, ON GLOSIANA'S CANARY. 85 He seemed some elf, by Elfin queen Banished from fairy court and green, And, for a season, at her word Made to do penance as a bird. All day, his little shining eye Turned to his mistress seated nigh ; From morn till night his little throat Rang out a merry mellow note ; And something loyal in his tone Told her, he sang to her alone. So, in requital of his zeal, She gave him, under hand and seal, This gracious promise, that so long As she should please to like his song. 86 VESSES OF THE WA YSIDE. No hand but hers should ever feed His tiny trough with daily seed. A happy life, how soon it flies ! Ye feathered travellers, here he lies. 87 BITO AND CLEOBIS. " Let us depart, for half the day is flown. The sweet cicala from beneath her stone Watches the golden afternoon decline ; Long since the knife is bared, the victim waits ; Bring out the snow-white oxen to the gates, And lead your priestess to her lady's shrine." So spake the ministress — and still the day Descends, and still the snowy kine delay 8S VERSES OF THE WA YSWE. By meadow, or in forest, or on feld ; And the seer's heart grows heavy for the city, For well she weens the great Gods have no pity : Smiting the land for sacrifice withheld. Loaded this year our vines with double bloom ; Filled to the brim each gamer bursts for room ; Shall she who sent the wealth be poor alone ? Not while two children of her priestess live To taste the gifts, and thank the Gods who give Life unto all and summer to their own. And ere the shadows lengthened, — ere sunshine Reddened the under leafage of the vine. They stood beside the chariot of the queen. 'Twas but on yester morn mid full acclaim BITO AND CLEOBIS. i Five times they rested, victors in the game, And bound about their brows the conqueror's green. Now by the chariot pole, on either hand. With burnt bare necks they bind the oxen band Round shoulder and round loin. No charioteer More stoutly yokes his team than these their breast Beneath the load. O Priestess, be at rest. Thy car is harnessed, for thy sons are here. Thrice with big hearts they bore upon the thong ; Three times the axle creaked, and the wheel hung. And rested : — and they sighed, and stood away ; The fourth, with one loud shout, and souls resolved They drew amain, and the great wheel revolved And rolled the -car of Her^ on its way. 90 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Still the sun burned, and not a windy breath Stirred the grey olives : the seas underneath Shone as a mirror of misty fire and blue : Heavy the wain, the journey rude and long ; But those who serve the Gods are ever strong, And youths are heroes when their hearts are true. But the Priestess saw nor olives, nor hot sands. Nor the sun-smitten seas. With trembling hands Tending her frankincense, she only knows Two young heroic faces white with pain. Loud wheels, that clang through beating blood and brain, Till — as her spirit reels — behold, the close ! Upon the roadway stood the crowds to wait The deed was done ! She passed the temple gate. BITO AND CLEOBIS. 9, Felt as a flame the shouts, the cymbal tones, Clasped hands, and jubilant faces lit with pride ; And heard dim thundrous voices at her side Calling her happy mother in such sons. And at the evening, when the feast was stayed And the fires licked the stone, the Priestess prayed With hands uplifted to the Gods on high : First for the city of the horse and spear, Unloved of men, but to immortals dear, Then for her sons, twin apples of her eye. " Give them, ye Gods, for this their love and truth, Life, and life's bloom, the flower of happy youth. 92 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Beauty and speed, heroic length of days, Strength in the battle, fortune in the chase. Fond children growing to their father's grace, And at the far fair end — immortal praise." She ended ; and a favourable flame Ran round the altar rim, — and answer came, Soft as a silver trumpet, from below. " Peace unto thee, and peace to these thy sons ; This night the Gods will give their chosen ones The last and richest blessing they bestow." And lo ! the Argive host upon the plain Slumbered, and in one tent the brethren twain BITO AND CLEOBIS. 93 Slept the deep sleep of valour after strife. Silence and peace were in the camp that night, And when again uprose the morning light Bito and Cleobis had passed from life. 94 MALVERN, Standing on the mountains in the mighty morning bloom, We watched the mists unrolling in wreaths of water fume. The sky was one blue temple, the hills one golden glow, And through the clouds that melted, broke the endless plain below ; MALVERN. 95 But here and there in shadow still upon tuft and thorn Shook in their silver splendour all the dewdrops of the mom. Over the fields beneath us came the kingly stir of day, Voices of English children from the village at their play, A shepherd call — the cattle-low — some ploughman to his team, And the loud din from Worcester of the hammer and of steam. And we turned; and far above us, so far and yet so nigh, Nought but his song between us and the wilderness of sky, 96 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Hung the lark — a floating music — ^with his throbbing wings unfurled. Lord of the vales and mountains, oh ! how lovely is thy world ! 97 THE SONG OF THE LAUREL. Under Olympus divinity haunted Lies a rich valley, Apollo, of thine ; Lowland and upland, with grey olive planted, Lovely in spring, but in summer divine. Deep in its heart, where the gorges are narrow, Moist with the foam-dew afloat from the glen, Silver Peneius, a white water arrow. Enters in thunder, and issues again. gS VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Hither at mom, when the mountain in shadow Rested, untroubled as yet of the noon, Came truant Naiads afoot through the meadow Twining wet grasses to petals of June. Pleasure and youth, ankle-deep in the lotus, Chasing the bee, and outsinging the bird ; Never of late, since Impiety smote us. Voices as sweet by our rivers are heard. Couched in mid cover, the singer Apollo, God of the forest and king of the bow. Watching his deer as they drank in the hollow, Marked the divine apparition below. Glowing immortal had seldom beholden Bosom more snowy or sunnier hair. THE SONG OF THE LAUREL. 99 And in the prime of the age that was golden Gods were but frail when a Naiad was fair. SwifUy he loosened his belt and his quiver, Laid down his bow and his arrows of light, Stole like a thief through the flags of the river, Silent and swift as the wings of the night Saw in her beauty the daughter of Ladon Zoneless and free, unaware of the God ; All the ripe meadow for love of the maiden Breaking in blossom and light as she trod. Was it dim sense of his presence appalled her, Or an elm leaf in the deep thicket stirred ? Was it the heron that uprose by the alder, Conscious of peril, her sentinel bird ? 7-2 loo VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Sudden she paused in mid carol arrested, Stood like a marble in frozen aflfright ; Soon, as a fawn by the leopard molested Fled for Peneius, nor stayed in the flight. Fierce are the loves of Immortals, a fuel Burning as pinewood, and stormily spent : Tears in the weak stir the thirst of the cruel. Never yet made one pursuer relent. Then, in despair, seeing none to deliver, — All her bright girlhood, to sorrow so nigh, — Flying, she sobbed a wild prayer to the river. Still to live on as his maiden or die. Down underneath in their green water palace, Hard by the ocean's unquenchable springs, THE SONG OF THE LAUREL. loi Crushing sea grapes till they foam in the chalice, Sit, coral girdled, the grave river kings. Faint sealight glimmer about them : — a lustre Bom of pale diamond and stones of the brine ; Agates above them in pendulous cluster Lit by the spirit of clear hyaline. Blinded with mist of the watery ages, Eldest in race of all Tritons that be, There, in the middle, the eyeless sea sages Harped of the wonders and works of the sea. What mellow song from sweet Sicily flattered Orpheus the bold and his mariner crew ; And how the trident of seagod had shattered Continents vast into Cyclads of blue. 102 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. How the great deep, after tempest abated. Washed a white waif to the caverns of green, Whence driven thither no tongue hath related. Or fFom high Heaven, or from inner ravine. Long in the depths of her shimmering prison Daughter and darling of ocean she lay : Then with soft laughter to earth had arisen, Venus, a cloudlet of sun and of spray. Down underneath, in the pause of the story. Came the loud wail of the fugitive girl ; Till from his dwelling Peneius the hoary Lifted his head o'er the roofing of pearl : Marked the hot chase of the God to o'ertake her, And, in deep pity of her the forlorn, THE SONG OF THE LAUREL. 103 Sware a great oath by the mighty Earth-shaker, Ocean should keep what of ocean was bom. So sware the God, and the oath was recorded — Straightway the earth rose in wavelets around, Took and transfigured the maiden, and corded Both her slight feet in a stem to the ground. Branches began where the shoulders had rounded, Leafy knots budded from bosom and brow. And in his triumph the victor confounded Clasped at a woman and kissed but a bough. Where in the meadow was Daphne, the maiden, Daphne, the laurel, arose to the sun ; Steadfastly rooted and foliage laden. Praising the Gods for deliverance won. I04 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Then, as half woman, in gentle compassion Of the wild lover who wrought her alarm, Swayed by the breeze, and in pain at his passion. Circled his brow with her evergreen arm. This is the song of the God and the Laurel, And the bright water nymph, turned to a tree. This is the song, — but wherein is the moral ? Listen, Aglaiia, fairer than she. As was the doom of the singer Apollo, So hath the lot of his ministers been, Beauty and Love through the valleys to follow. Winning no meed but a chaplet of green. 105 TO-MORROW. The sun is fierce ; our camel troop Under his fiery arrows droop. Courage, companions ; yonder gleam The springs we drank of in our dream. Another noon of sand : the cool Oasis with its palmy pool To-morrow. io6 VERSES OF THE IVA YSIDE. Thus with bruised hope and broken plan Travels our cheated caravan ; Soft river airs the vision fanned. We wake to illimitable sand ; Still, — one may reach the promised land To-morrow. " All that thou wouldes t may be thine. Assume the crown of Charlemagne ! Lead only where the path is barred One more old charge of thine Old Guard." Hope sang. His eagles heard the strain — There will be battle on the plain To-morrow. TO-MORROW. 107 But ere its eve is dewy wet A stax of Empire shall have set. There will remain, of all his might, A shattered multitude in flight. Trampling and reeling from the fight. To-morrow. And then, a crownless exile pent Afar in ocean banishment, Watching in vain the boundless sea For some white sail to set him free To-morrow. So vainly pine the great and brave. What asks the sailor on the wave ? io8 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. A night of summer weather more ; Then — one dear face upon the shore. The winds are fair, the nights are short, And the good vessel is in port — To-morrow. Before the mom his couch will be A oota ' l grave beneath the sea ; And the false waters, cold and green, Will smile, as though no wreck had been. To-morrow. With nights and days of burning toil. Lit by illusion's precious oil, And fed by fires that in him glow. The painter sees his picture grow. TO MORROW. 109 But one more touch from these poor hands, And lo ! by Raphael's side he stands To-morrow. Through the sad hours when others slept Angels with him have watched and wept ; A wealth of tears, prayers, rich despair Lie mingled on the canvas there. Fancies which Raphael never knew Were his in spirit while he drew : Who twice wUl scan his picture through To-morrow ? So roll the years. So slowly dies The light of youth from sober eyes ; VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. In vain we climb the mountain capes, The lovely rainbow still escapes. About the pathway to thy throne Dead hearts, hke autumn leaves, are blown To-morrow ! I, wiser than the crowd who fail. Ask of the Genius of the Veil But this — that yonder budding thorn May break into a rose at morn, Miranda's birthday to adorn, To-morrow. Dew on the heather, bloom on the roseleaf, light in the skies, Thunder of mountain and forest when tempests arise. And the flash and the flow of the fountain that leaps to the sun, Are thy life-cup, Life I that thou givest to taste unto none. Shall we never, O God, till our pulses for ever are dumb. Feed our hearts of desire on this Beauty that flies as we come; 112 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Nor know the great rapture of Nature ; nor once overhear The secret woods whisper together ere mortals appear ; Drink the dew with the thirst of the bee, drain the bloom of the flower, As the nightingale drains it alone in his moon-smitten bower ; Nor joy with the fountain, nor grieve with the winds as they grieve ; Nor follow the red dying sun as the plover at eve, Who gathers the shadows around him, and flits o'er the wold And the watery wilderness burning with fire and with gold? "3 TO HERMIONE. Hermione, you ask me if I love ; And I do love you. But indeed we drift Fast by the flying, fleeting banks of life, Towards the inevitable seas. It seems But yesterday I saw, as in a dream, Childhood — a flame of glory — come and go. And, lo ! to-day these hairs are flecked with time Already : and all the silver minutes glide More dreamily than ever for the love 8 114 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. I bear you ; hand in hand, and hour by hour, Floating beside you to the sounding falls, Whence we must leap together into night. Are we not happy ? Is not life serene ? We do but pass — ^you say — from one bright shore Upon a brighter ! Dear Hermione, Be glad there is no shadow on your eyes ; But this I know, that all the world beside Seems faint with pain ; the rose upon your breast Is not more full of perfume than the world Of pain. I hear it even at your side By day and night — the illimitable sigh Breathed upwards to the throne of the deaf skies- A cry of hollow-cheeked and hungry men Burning away life's fire for little ends ; TO HERMIONE. 115 And women with wan hearts and starving eyes Waiting for those they love to come again From strange embraces — ruined womanhood And barren manhood, fruitful but of pain. Such is the shore we float from ; for the shore, The brighter shore, we reach, I only know That it is night, Hermionej mere night, Unbroken, uniUumined, unexplored. Come closer, lay your hand in mine ; your love Is the one sure possession that will last. Let us be brave; and when the Shadow comes To beckon us to the leap, rise lightly up, And follow with firm eyes and resolute soul Whither he leads — one heart, one hand, to live Together, or if Death be Death, to die. 8—2 ii6 THE PALACE OF CIRCE. Without — a belt of pines : and the deep night Perfumed with flowers and lulled with nightingales \ And starlight ; and the distant hollow vales ; And o'er the distant vales a mountain wall Down whose dark ledges the white waters fall. Making the forest echoes musical. Within — what magic blaze of happy light Streams through the open casements on the night, THE PALACE OF CIRCE. 117 Kindling with breath of fire the valley glooms ? What festal mirth is here ; what gay delight ? Thrones soft as sleep, and founts of silver flight, Wet lilies, and \\Teathed goblets, and young blooms Of faces fairer than the flowers are bright Who stands with golden sceptre there, Ruby and emerald flashing bare On robe of snow and raven hair ? This is the daughter of the Sun Revelling on when day is done. Till the burning noon abates Motionless her palace gates, Her halls more silent than the noiseless dawn ; No sounding footfall comes or goes. ii8 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Invader of her deep repose, Across the silent palace lawn. The lily, and the daffodil, and the rose, After long draught of daylight's glows. Lie flushed and fevered on earth's breast, Hushed by the golden hours to rest, A company of sleep oppressed. And every fountain in a sunny swoon Leaps into light, and dies into a tune Of most deserted music, all the afternoon. The shadows lengthen : the low breezes linger : Tin the dial's sunless finger Touches sunset ; and behold, Wheeled on wheels of flame and gold. THE PALACE OF CIRCE. 119 Her mighty sire's imperial car Rolls beneath the mountain bar. And lo ! a thousand torches burn the night, And all the hills are garlanded with light, And far above the valleys, on the height Near the keen stars and the eternal snow The shepherd of the mountain wold. Folding from the wolf his fold, Seeing great cheer, and hearing trumpets blow, Knows the daughter of the Sun Hath her merry rites begun. From brake and grassy river ground, Where through the noon they rest unfound Of hunter or of hunter's hound, 20 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. And watch, upon its margin curled, The shadows of their water world ; They come, her nymphs, with lilies crowned, Each silver ankle sandal-bound, And, when the jocund trump is blown. They gather round their lady's throne ; And on and on to music sweet Their steps in merry measure beat — The tresses fall, The glances meet : — She is the fairest of them all : Daughter of the mighty Sun Revelling on when day is done. THE ROSE AND THE NIGHTINGALE. I. The Rose and the Nightingale, long, long ago, I.oved one another, as the green leaves know What time the stars shone clearly. Rich and wild was the nightingale's strain — And the rose, she blushed with pleasure and with pain. To think she was loved so dearly. And so all the night they took their delight In a garden by a river in the soft dewlight 12 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Of the silvery summer weather ; And the moon nothing loath saw them nightly both Singing and blushing together. This is the tale, as the green leaves know. Of the rose and the nightingale, long, long ago. The song the nightingale sang in that hour Into the ears of the trembling flower. Came not of earth nor with earth abode ; Far in the west it seemed to rise Over the cloud gates in the skies, On which so late the sunset glowed. Some spirit song, so sweet and long, Now far and faint, now lOud and strong. THE ROSE AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 12 Under the silver moon it flowed : Then to the sunset died again, Or seemed to die ; for, far from men, Stretched on his couch of gleaming heather, The shepherd on Arcadia's heights Who hears the god-like hymn at nights, Which the immortals' hymn together. Knows that the strain doth never die, But through the earth, and seas, and sky. Peals on for ever and for aye. III. O tender lover ! O delicate maiden. Meeting together this balmy night, Where the flowers with perfume and incense laden 124 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Breathless with passion and pale for delight Bathe in the flood of the full moonlight ; Love one another, while yet ye may, And listen, oh listen this night, I pray. To the song the nightingale singeth ; For he singeth a many to river and tree. But only one to his rose sings he, And the rose she glows at but one note she knows, Though many a song, as the bright river goes. On its b oso m o ut - ringct b , its border outflows ; And he who listens for this sweet song, Hears it but once in his whole life long ; For the sun grows fierce as the months go by. And the nightingale sings not to hot July. Youth with her soft smile wanders away. THE ROSE AND THE NIGHTINGALE. 125 And hearts are harder when hairs are gray. Love one another while yet ye may. And learn and gather this song that is sung All night by the river for ever and ever The listening leaves and the roses among. That ere your spirit with years decay, And the joy and the music within you die, Ye may sing it for once to the earth and the sky ; And when ye are asked, in the years far away. Whence ye have learned it, the strange sweet lay, — Answer, — we learned it, as green leaves know. From the rose and the nightingale, long, long ago. izS OMNES EODEM. Into the far land Of twilight and silence, A sad caravan, We march to the river Of Lethe, where never Breaks sunbeam, nor ever Comes music of man. And one as he goes binds his brow with the laurel, And one plucks a chaplet of cypress and sorrel, OMNES EODEM. 127 To make him a garland Of sadness the while, — As file upon file We pass into silence. Under the crust Of the paths that we travel, Withers the dust Of the ages before. Lost generations have trod where we trample ; What have they left us behind of ensample ? — A shell in the gravel, A bone on the shore. 'Twere joy to be banished To asphodel meadows, 128 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Faintly to cherish A shadowy strife. But the centuries perish ; Their echoes are vanished ! The dead have no shadows, No thin after-life ! Sigh we or smile, Swiftly the while We pass into silence. Who guides our procession, Who marshals the throng, Fronting the darkness With torch and with song ? 'Tis the genius who leads us, the first of the train. His sad forehead circled with knowledge and pain. OMNES EODEM. Of the flowers that he bore us No fruit shall remain. Silent before us The islands of wonder, Dark realms of the dumb. Behind us, the thunder Of swift generations. We go, O ye nations ; Lost echoes, we come. 130 SONG. Give me the flower, that in your bosom blowing Makes the room sweet with scents and thoughts of you ; I seek no other boon or promise, knowing Heaven is not near, for all its clouds of blue. Blossoms as fair will bloom for you hereafter, When this, and he who asks it, both depart ; Nor need you miss, through hours of silver laughter, One faded bloom and one dejected heart. 131 SILENUS. The winds and clouds were playing In depths of blue serene, When Love took Life a-maying Through fairy glen and green ; And fiUed her lap and bosom, And all her blowing hair, With purple bud and blossom, And grasses ripe and rare. 9 2 I 32 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Concealed in river rushes, Silenus, eyes aglow, From ferns and alder bushes, Beheld the truants go, Linked hand in hand together, And hunting down the sky Each floating summer feather. And flashing dragon-fly. " The Gods are great, Silenus," He murmured : " Not for thee The lovely gifts of Venus, The laughter and the glee. As harts before the leopard, From thee the Dryads fleet, SHE N us. 133 And leave the lonely shepherd A gleam, of flying feet." What forest glades and alleys They thridded, none can say : Down what enchanted valleys, Or by what water way. Who counts each cape and islet, Round which the vessel trails. Where Love is master-pilot, And Fancy fills the sails ? And still Silenus tarried. Till the sun's chariot soon To middle heaven had carried The glowing afternoon. 134 VEHSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Shadeward the lizard glided ; The fields were faint with light ; And, ere the day divided, He saw another sight. Treading no mirthsome measure. Nor hand in hand they came ; His eye was dead to pleasure, Her cheek a fever-flame. He chides her feet that hnger. And mocks her tear that flows ; She pulls with joyless finger The petals of a rose. And so the twain departed. That met at morning dew, SILENUS. 135 Life, worn and dreary-hearted, And Love — to travels new. And every summer blossom They plucked at break of day Went fluttering down the bosom Of wind and cloud at play. Thereat Silenus, smiling : " If Love and Life,'' said he, " Thus end their soft beguiling, No nectar joys for me. Methinks the fates who fashion Our |)asturage and path Make of the flowers of passion A barren aftermath." f36 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. And ere his mood was ended, Down kneeling in the weed, He took and cut and mended A shining river reed ; And blew thereon a tneasure So piercing and so sweet, That all the Fauns for pleasure Came trooping to his feet. He sang of summers wasted In wooing idle wind ; HoWLove's ambrosia tasted Leaves bitterness behind ; And how the woods are lonely, And how the Gods are wise. SILENUS. 137 And gave Silenus only The secrets of the skies. Far off till shadows darken, And twilight holds the plain, The shepherds stand and harken To the enchanted strain. There sits Silenus playing, That all who hear may know How Life and Love from maying Return not as they go. 138 THE CLASSICS. Draw nigh with joy, for this is holy ground. Here keep the vocal Nine their mountain feasts ; Here comes Apollo, aweary of his priests, To fountains ever fresh and sweet with sound. Here every peak and precipice around With music breaks the mom. In youth we knew The choir, when all their uplifted clarions blew About us, and each thought came laurel-crowned. And still each pulse of grief, joy, memory rolls. Set to immortal words. O master souls, THE CLASSICS. 139 Ye do the hearts ye charm some little wrong ; For who can sing when Homer is so sweet ; Sigh, as Catullus sighed at Lesbia's feet ; Or chaunt, for sound of Dante's trumpet-song ? 14° VIA APPIA. Moonlight upon the granite Appian way ! The ghostly tombs of dead men glorious, Monuments, columns, shrines, illumined thus, Appear a silver city of all decay. " Rome's works remain, her heroes pass away ;" Mnemos5nne replied, " Freedom and law — The future's self is bom of Roman clay." But even as so she spake, behold, I saw A farther future still — man's feeble birth, Whelmed 'mid the drifts of time, the ages' dross ; VIA APPIA. 141 And, after many a cycle, perfect earth Move to pre-ordered ruin ; and, in her place, Fed with the shock, and brighter by the loss. Infinite worlds, immeasurable space. 142 EXILE. This day the world that wrought him cruel woe Comes to shed tears and flowers upon his grave Too late. My God ! is there no after wave Of joy for patriots and for saints, who sow That men unborn may reap ? May they not know How nations march to death with flaming eyes, Chaunting their names j nor learn, with proud surprise, Their work is done : their worth confessed below : Their praise immortal ? Hush ! In God they rest 1 No human voices move them ; they are still ; EXILE. 143 Nor needs their bliss an earthly complement, Filled full of Him whose peace in spirits blest Calms each heroic pulse, each fervent will. And feeds the exile's heart with deep content. 144 THE SERVICE OF THE GODS. The Gods accept thy service for the strife — Yet — ere thou take this baptism of the fire — Bethink thee they are stem, and measure life, Not by unfinished dream or high desire — All that may be or aU that might have been. But by the great thing done or left undone. As we accomplish on this earthly scene So shall our quittance be. And now the sun Breaks from his mountain throne upon the day. THE SERVICE OF THE GODS. 145 His beams will be a burning fire to parch Thy fainting feet upon the noonday march ; Shadeless and waterless must be thy way. &*, if thy purpose hold for high emprise, Go forth and prosper, soldier of the skies. 146 Life and new life— Give me the cup once more. No need to crown for me its rim in flowers — These would but bring again the scent of hours Too sweet to scorn, too fleeting to deplore. Youth's triumphs : revel : joys in golden store : Rich love itself has brought me poor content, For the grey thought that, ere the wine be spent, Night comes apace to close the festal door. Let boys wreathe fate with lilies : I, aflame To do what yet I know not, strive a strife, J 147 Smite once in thunder at all the doors of fame, And make dull worlds re-echo, ask but life, To slake this thirst, and be what men have been, Ere I go hence and am no longer seen. I4« " Return," I cried, " dark grows the way and dread ; Upon the moor the mountain winds are cold ; Come back to paths of morning bloom instead. Our chestnut glades, all fire with green and gold, Where the fair sunshine seemed not ever old. More flowers are yet to pluck in that sweet land : I have left songs half sung, fancies half planned, Lilies ungathered, tales of love untold, The brows I love the best ungarlanded." But the sad guide who holds us by the hand, 149 Whose swift and soundless feet no turning know. Pointed still onward. " Whither so ?" I said. Then in his eyes the stern reply I read, " Whither the summer leaves and grasses go." ISO THE BUTTERFLIES. The butterflies, their colour snow, Flight upon flight to seaward go. Ah, fair white butterflies, with you That I might range yon airy blue ! Tell me, my queen, beloved and bright. My gipsy, with the eyes of light. Had I but wings as blithe as they, Where would I take my shining way ? THE BUTTERFLIES. 151 I'd Stay to kiss no rose that blooms— O'er sunny plains and forest glooms, Straight to thy lovely lips I'd fly, Flower of my soul, thereon to die. {From Theophile Gautier.) 152 ADIEU. " Adieu, my love," I cried, " adieu." She rose, and from her bobbin drew One slender thread of silken blue, Then deftly circling round me About my heart the knot she threw. And to her girdle bound me. " And when," she said, " this charm shall break, A hair, a single hair, I'll take Of those you flattered) for my sake. ADIEU. I S3 Once T^'hcB y o u wef e my wooer, And see, if my poor tresses make A stronger bond, and truer." My princess, brighter than the dew ! And if all silken chains undo ; If sweet slight hair should part in two> Or from your girdle sever ; One tear in those soft eyes of blue Will hold me here for ever. 154 I LOVE a flower, but which flower of the many, There lies my grief. Vainly I search the rose gardens for any Heart hid in mid leaf. Soft blow the roses at twilight ; divine is The nightingale's air. " I seek for a fair heart as tender as mine is, As tender and fair." iSS The nightingale's song o'er the thicket is shaken, I know the sweet tone, And the burden : — " We both are so sad and forsaken, So sad, so alone." \From Heine.) IS6 EX ACADEMIA. I BRING from the gardens of Isis These blossoms yet bright with the dew, Though fed on a myriad of spices, Their leaves are but feeble and few. Ere the bloom from the year has departed. And sunlight declines on the tree, Thou shalt know, O beloved and true-hearted, One flower has been wholly for thee. EX ACADEMIA. 157 Then take it, and bind it about thee, A coronal plucked for thy brow : Its grace were but little without thee, Itself but a perishing bough. If, touched by thine hand, it discloses Some beauty unborn, it will be, That deep in each cluster of roses A sigh is embedded for thee. iS8 Every light Faun from every olive grove Gathered to listen ; all the birds forbore ; While Silvia sweet administered to Love A holy oath that he would love no more. By earth, by heaven, by the deep seas he swore — ■ And now he walks, a tender penitent, Down each moon-lighted glade, each myrtle shore, Keeping his eyes and thoughts most truly bent On solemn things and Silvia. As he went. 159 " Whence now, fair Love ?" I cried, " and whither away ?" He with hushed lip and air of gay content — " Friendship am I, dear gossip : yesterday My name was Love : to-morrow it will be What it shall please our Silvia to decree." i6o THE WEATHERCOCK. Bright feet are twinkling far and near, Bright eyes with dewlight glisten ; What whispers youth in beauty's ear While beauty turns to listen ? Of thee, my &st, our fathers told, Yet never told too often, A theme to make the timid bold, And frozen lips to soften. The sunlight breaks on lawn and lea, Fresh morning airs are blowing ; THE WEATHERCOCK. i6i From sleep the farmer shakes him free, For chanticleer is crowing. Come sun, come rain upon the pane. Lightly they both are reckoned By him who little heeds my first, True to thy call, my second. And who can tell thy course, my whole, What flight thy fancy pleases ? Who knows the wild clouds whence they roll. Or whither haste the breezes ? I lightly fly, I soar on high, O'er town, and tower, and steeple ; And read the secrets of the sky To princes and their people. 1 62 ABELARD TO ELOISA. Earth wails, as the wild winds unrobe her ; In saddened apparel and sober, The dearest of days in October Draws stormily near. One song — ere this harp is unbended, One leaf — while the bough is unrended, Receive, before autumn be ended, The last of its year. ABELARD TO ELOISA. 163 For the rest of my months must be boonless. Comes Snow-time — ^with nights that are moonless — The hour when all singers are tuneless, And birds are all mute. Soon life's little page will be written, The fruit from the troo b g d e wn -smitten, And frosts of midwinter have bitten The branoh rand the root. And what shall the song be I sing thee ? Tis still an old music I string thee, New wrought into cadence, to bring thee Anew to thy feet I have but the one note of greeting, Sad song, over worn with repeating, i64 VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Its burden, that life is so fleeting, That love is so sweet. Through mists of old memories declining, Dead joys and forgotten repining, I see thy sweet face ever shining, And bright through the years. Serene, as the light in its sources, Unmarred by the hours or their forces, And true, as the tides in their courses Are true to the spheres. O faith, unprofaned and undying, O Love, the world's changes defying. Fair face, for the years that are flying. Still fairer to me. ABELARD TO ELOISA. 165 Be nigh me, as winter is nearer, As leaves become sadder and serer. And winds utter louder and clearer The doom of the tree. i66 TO CYNTHIA. Cynthia, go ; the fates have granted All thy glowing fancy wills : Eden vales, and lands enchanted, Lie beyond the summer hills. Enter where thine hopes have fluttered. Many a dreamy night and day ; Let the magic word be uttered That unlocks the far away. TO CYNTHIA. 167 Be and seem the queen of beauty, Sweeping with a grand disdain Past the knights, whose single duty Is to love, and love in vain. Touch the hearts, and guide the dances, Fairest of the gracious throng, And redress with noble glances All the vast of human wrong. Then when every ill is righted, Tyrants quelled, and rivals slain. When the world, an orb benighted. Is refreshed with light again ; VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Find the faiiy Prince who yonder Tarries for thine eyes of blue : Take his hand, and with him wander Down the isles of purple hue. Learn the song that through the ages Rings in one unaltered chime, Faintly writ in poets' pages. Or musicians' golden rhyme. Soon to grander secrets turning, Delve through aU the lore of years, Take and make thine own the learning Treasured for the sage's ears. TO CYNTHIA. 169 Read of cycles dimly lighted, Ending in the solar plan : Wasted types of life requited By the final growth of man. Learn the tale of wilder nations — Light and shadow, strife and storm — Through lucescent generations Brightening into social form. Last to mellow age subsiding. Floating down the farther stream, Come again, and bring us tiding Whether life be like the dream. I/O VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Ah ! the birds at mom upwinging, Travel-stained return from flight : And the hearts tliat left us singing Come in silence home at night. 171 SONG. Nymphs and shepherds, tell me where Celia sweet her heart has hidden. Bright her eyes beyond compare, Tender cheeks that glow unbidden ; Underneath some flower or tree Must a heart as tender be. Riding down your glades of green. Sighs and smiles I find together ; 172 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE: By-and-bye a kiss unseen, Here a glove, and there a feather. Tangled in some thicket fast, I shall find a heart at last. From the sweetness of its scent, I can guess what rose has seen her ; Birds smg merrier where she went, Where she stept the grass is greener. Somewhere 'neath your prgudest tree Sure her hidden heart will be. Shadows fall — ^the lights decline. On I ride in vain endeavour. SONG. 173 Can it be, O masters mine, Celia had no heart whatever ? By her holy eyes of blue, Here or there it lies perdu ! 174 " Chi sa se mai Ti sowerrai di me." Metastasio. The last sad tie is broken — The last adieu is spoken ; Rise winds and speed the vessel That floats my love to sea. Fair years of richer pleasure Remain for you to measure ; But ah ! who knows, Sibylla, If you will think of me ? 17S Here every flower that blossoms Is full of memories tender : In every sunset splendour Your face again I see. There's not a star that glistens But for your footfall listens ; And you — who knows, Sibylla, If you will think of me ? The dove you fed at morning Still haunts the spot you taught her; At night translucent water Sprays up by torch and tree. Still by the brink I wander, Upon old words to ponder, 176 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. And marvel if Sibylla Remembers them and me. Here gleams the chestnut cover, Where first she scorned her lover, Then made sweet peace, and granted Her hand in his to be. Here lived we, hope our diet. There, wrapped in love and quiet, We — ah ! who knows, Sibylla, If you will think of me ? For many an eye wiU woo you. And many a bright new comer WiU swear on eves of summer Your vassal true to be. 177 Amid the thousand lovers That every sun discovers, Who knows, who knows, Sibylla, If you will think of me ? Yet when above thy garden Some silver moon arises. And song of love surprises Thy balcony and thee. Think of the nights I pleaded Beneath thy porch Tinheeded ; Think — ah ! who knows, Sibylla, If thou wilt think of me ? 178 GOOD-NIGHT. GOOD-MORNING. The sun a shining orb descends Behind the mountain wold ; Gloom gathers fast, the daylight ends : Sheep journey to the fold. Peace and farewell, ye torrent rills — Good-night to earth and sky. So homeward from the silent hills We went, my love and I. Come, sweet night. Day, take thy flight : My Love will make the darkness light. GOOD-NIGHT. GOOD-MORNING. 179 Rest to the earth — the weary earth- Sweet rest ; till far away Upon the hills we saw the birth And triumph of the day. Again the mighty sun arose, And on each mountain lawn Began the million golden glows That usher in the dawn. Go, dear night, Come, purple light ; Rise, Love, and make the morning bright. At mom I found these violets blue Where early morning lies. And brought them fresh with light and dew- Not purer than her eyes — 1-2 — 2 i8o VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. To her who was my morning flower, And is my flower at noon. Soon comes a duskier twilight hour. And night will follow soon. Sweet face, stay ; life ebbs away ; Be thou thy lover's evening ray. POSCIMUR. Foam up again ! The night is young, Our song of songs is still unsung. Bar the great doors. Let none depart Untold the mistress of his heart. Shall Love, the god, untoasted go For all his blessings ? No, no, no ! What ! silent all ? Then mine it be This merry night to guide the glee. 1 82 VERSES OF THE WAYSIDE. Fill round, and, while the glasses meet, Here's to the sweetest of the sweet. When friends are met, and goblets flow. Is Love a secret ? No, no, no ! " Where dwells my love ?" A country bright, A summer land of love and light. Pare as her eyes the heaven above — But is it light or is it love Lends yonder land its purple glow ? I will not wager. No, no, no ! "And loves she ?" — 'Neath a chestnut tree Sweet evening brought my love to me. I spake of love as lovers speak ; No star revealed her maiden cheek POSCIMUK. 183 As she made answer, bending low ; Can words be sweeter ? No, no, no ! " Her name, her name ?" So smooth it glides. Love's whisper in the sound abides. Think of the name beyond the rest, Sunniest and loveliest and best. And breathe it soft as zephyrs blow. But shall I tell it ? No, no, no ! 184. ENDYMION. Love, let me go ! the summer night is ending ; Far off my silver-footed steeds are wending, Unpiloted and reinless, down the lawn. In yonder skies Aurora's armies quicken. And the night's planets, pale and splendour stricken, Dissolve into the twilight of the dawn. Go, shining one ! divinest, fairest, dearest, Though dark thy shepherd's night, till thou appearest, ENDYMION. \ Resume thy glorious reins, retake thy car ; Guide thy bright team to heaven's illumined portal, Where, sentinels of night, the Hours immortal Await their fiery coming from afar. There with thy splendid smile descend and enter, Be throned amid the Gods, and in their centre. Seem the cold Dian they are wont to see. But when at night begin the Oread revels, Come o'er deep glades and lighted mountain levels, Knowing Endymion waits for love and thee. i86 SCOPVLIS SVRDIOR ICARIS. There stands the rock in mid-ocean, Here at its feet throbs the main ; Never a word to the water's devotion Doth the rock answer again. But the great sea gathers all his waves to it, And with a low cry of pain Spills out his life at the rock's feet to woo it, Knowing he wins but disdain. There stands the queen in her splendour, Here are the hearts that would fain SCOPULIS SURDIOR ICARIS. 187 Spend their best blood at her footstool to bend her, Never a glance doth she deign. But the wild hearts, yearning still to adore her, Though they adore but in vain, Creep to her throne, pour their treasure before her, Give, and ask nothing again. MEMNON. On Memilon's statue dark as night When early morning brake, Touched by the lovely orient light, The stone in answer spake. A chord resounded, notes arose, Responsive to the morning glows. My God, and shall this heart of stone No answer make for me, MEMNON. When thy dear light upon it thrown Has wakened it to thee ? No voice arise within to praise The Giver of the heavenly rays. Deep was the night and dark the sky Before thy morn was shown. Each star that seemed to shine on high, But made the darkness known. I saw thee not, but yet could see That all was dark apart from thee. Lord of the darkness, unto whom The night is as the day : igo VERSES OF THE WA YSIDE. Within thine arms, amid the gloom, Safe, even then, I lay. Unweening of the will divine, Which ere I asked had made me thine. The morning came in crimson fire, And spread from pole to pole. I saw and knew the love entire. That long had kept my soul. No tear, in darkness wept by me. Had perished unperceived of thee. And now that light and life from heaven Upon this bosom shine, MEMNON. 191 Shall morn alone to thee be given, The rest of day be mine ? No — every hour of life shall be For ever dedicate to thee. 193 MANCIUE. I COULD have sung, had life been clear From thoughts too sad for mortal ear, And visions full of human wrong. But doubt and tumult in the brain Confused the dream, and spoiled the strain ; And now — the wild winds sing my song. 1 could have loved, had love's repast Been as the mortal passion vast. MANQUE. 193 Or matched the longing of the soul. But larger love than earth can know Would leave our deepest fires aglow — Now — o'er my heart the waters roll. I could have wept, had any tears Been as enduring as the years That make and mar our mortal span. But hearts grow cold as seasons fly, Life leaves us but the power to sigh, And takes the strength to weep from man. I could have striven, had trumpets blown, Had but some battle banner shown. Ig4 MANQUE. Some feat been named, to do or die. But the ignoble grooves of life Were all remote from hero strife, And down we drifted — Time and I. O winds, eternal mountain choir. More passionate than mortal Xyxe. ! O waves, more loud than trumpet-tongue ! Ye chant the wild regrets of man ; His fever since the world began — Ye know the songs my heart had sung. THE END. >\\>i\\\N\\\S*v\^\\^\\«SS\\4i^\^