Cornell University Library 
 PR 5226.B9T9 
 
 Twilight music. 
 
B Cornell University 
 9 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013539857 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 SONNETS AND REVERIES. 
 
 creation's HOPE. 
 
 SONGS OF UNIVERSAL LIFE. 
 
 LYRICAL STUDIES. 
 
 LYRICS AND ELEGIACS. 
 
 POEMS OF LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 THE EXILES : A ROMANCE OF LIFE. 
 
 POEMS OF A NATURALIST. 
 
 MUSIC FROM THE MAZE. 
 
 GLEAMS THROUGH THE GLOOM. 
 
 THE CLOCK OF ARBA. 
 
 MUSINGS AND. MELODIES. 
 
 POEMS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 SOLILOQUIES IN SONG. 
 
 LYRICS OF LIFE AND BEAUTY. 
 
 MUSICAL IMAGININGS. 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 BY 
 
 MARCUS S. C. RICKARDS 
 
 J. BAKER AND SON 
 
 CLIFTON AND LONDON 
 
 1909 
 
TO 
 
 CHARLES HENRY OLIVE DANIEL, 
 
 PROVOST OF WORCESTER COLLEGE, OXFORD, 
 I DEDICATE THIS VOLUME 
 
ERRATA , 
 
 Page 14, line 9, for "made me recollect" read "vivified 
 again." 
 
 Page 19, insert between lines 7 and 8, "around the wind- 
 swept nest." 
 
 Page 29, line 5, for "white" read "bright." 
 
 Page 49, line 7, for "of Reason or of Moral Sense misleads 
 mankind," read "of Moral Sense and 
 Reason dupe mankind." 
 
 Page 50, last line, omit the words "of all." 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 FAGE 
 
 PRELUDE Xi 
 
 THE RAINBOW I 
 
 GRADUAL GROWTH - - 4 
 
 THE FULL MOON II 
 
 BEAUTY DOMINANT 1 3 
 
 TO A PANSY 15 
 
 THE BUGLOSS 1 7 
 
 LISTENING TO THE WOOD-PIGEONS 1 8 
 
 A SEASIDE REVELATION 20 
 
 IN THE SEASON - -22 
 
 DUAL DOMINION 23 
 
 A REVIVAL - - - 28 
 
 SEASIDE IMAGININGS 29 
 
 THE DELIVERER 3 1 
 
 ' THOU KNOWEST NOT THE WAY OF THE ;IT ' 32 
 
 THE MAN IN THE MOON 33 
 
 A SONG OF SUNSHINE 37 
 
 READY, AYE READY ! 39 
 
 THE LINNET'S LOYALTY 40 
 
 LATENT LOVELINESS - 4 1 
 
 A BIRTHDAY REVERIE 42 
 
 MIDNIGHT LIGHTNING 46 
 
 THE QUESTIONER - 48 
 
 vii 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 GLOW-WORMS 
 
 5 1 
 
 A WAYSIDE FOUNTAIN 
 
 53 
 
 THE WOOD-AVENS 
 
 54 
 
 FLOWERS ON A RAILWAY CUTTING 
 
 55 
 
 UNDIVIDED 
 
 57 
 
 WILLOW HERBS 
 
 58 
 
 THE WOODPECKER'S CALL 
 
 59 
 
 MUSINGS OF AN ATLAS 
 
 61 
 
 ' IMMEDIATELY HE PUTTETH IN THE SICKLE ' 
 
 - 63 
 
 AT THE MANOR GROUNDS, EXMOUTH 
 
 65 
 
 DIVIDED EMPIRE 
 
 66 
 
 BELOVED BRITAIN 
 
 - 67 
 
 A SPRING IMAGINATION 
 
 74 
 
 IN SANCTUARY 
 
 77 
 
 A QUESTION ANSWERED 
 
 80 
 
 TO A THISTLE 
 
 82 
 
 DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 83 
 
 AFTER SUNDOWN 
 
 94 
 
 IMPASSIONED 
 
 - 95 
 
 GARLIC MUSTARD 
 
 - 96 
 
 ALTERED, YET THE SAME 
 
 - 98 
 
 THE GROWTH OF CHARACTER 
 
 99 
 
 HINTS OF A HEREAFTER 
 
 100 
 
 BLACK HOREHOUND 
 
 IOI 
 
 TO SLEEPERS 
 
 102 
 
 IDEAL LOVE 
 
 103 
 
 IN THE NURSERY 
 
 - 105 
 
 THE WOOD-BETONY 
 
 107 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 
 
 - 108 
 
 HORIZONS 
 
 - 109 
 
 viii 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 PER CONTRA II4 
 
 THE MAGIC OF MUSIC Il6 
 
 IDEALS 117 
 
 THE SINGLE BLOOM OF AGRIMONY - 1 18 
 
 WHITE ARCHANGELS - 119 
 
 A TRIUNE PICTURE 121 
 
 IN THE SHRUBBERY, EXMOUTH - 122 
 
 THE ASCENT OF LIFE- 1 24 
 
 THE REST-HARROW - 126 
 
 THE ROBIN'S SECRET - 1 27 
 
 IN 'THE MERRY RING-TIME'- - 129 
 
 FROM THE STANDPOINT OF ETERNITY - 1 30 
 
 TOM-TITS UPON SUN-FLOWERS 1 32 
 
 INTERCOMMUNION - 1 33 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 Soft Twilight, wedding hour of Day and Night, 
 Of Memory and Hope, thy time is Now ! 
 The Past and Future wistfully unite 
 In the strange Present-the why, when, and how ? 
 And, Music, gentle comfort , holy balm, 
 Without thy spell we are but half alive ! 
 Lyre, organ, viol, poem, sonnet, psalm, 
 All quicken us to question peer and strive. 
 
 Not mid the twilight of a natural day 
 Has come the inspirationjor these songs, 
 Nor mid the spirit's gloom, as not a lay, 
 I think, was born of any of my wrongs. 
 Nor in the gloaming of this earthly life, 
 For, old in years, my heart is very young; 
 1 have but kept the common care and strife 
 At bay a little, for them to be sung. 
 
 Mid the uncertain glimmering of Truth 
 Were one and all conceived and brought to birth- 
 This state of semi-darkness, moral youth, 
 Half-shadowed Heaven, and mist-enveloped Earth ; 
 Where straining vision hardly can discern 
 The make of men, the symmetry of things, 
 Where groping painfully we can but turn 
 Prophetic eyes to what the Daylight brings. 
 
PRELUDE 
 
 Music at Twilight-in the very thought 
 Are quietude and peace ; and if my strain 
 Shall waft to any fevered spirit aught 
 Of these, I deem it is not sung in vain. 
 Music at Twilight-does it make thee think 
 Of wandering echoes by a moonlit sea ? 
 Hold that this greets thee listening by the brink 
 Of half-illumined calm Eternity ! 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 THE RAINBOW. 
 
 Eternal Beauty ! save for this alone 
 The bane of Time haunts even thee, alas ! 
 The wings whereon the loveliest have flown 
 Are now unfurling for thy charm to pass, 
 And mingle with the myriad vanished things, 
 The echoed joy, the half-returning dreams, 
 The melting hope whereto the spirit clings 
 With the vain energy of that despair 
 Where with mine eyes will track thy faintinggleams, 
 Thro' the vast vacant wilderness of air. 
 Yet linger for awhile, inspire me now ! 
 Unravel not the soft enchanting skein, 
 That trinity of orange, red, and blue ! 
 ' A threefold cord not quickly broken ' thou, 
 I dare to hope, the while uncounted eyes 
 From Earth that seldom wander to the Skies, 
 
 Are fettered by the triune chain ! 
 In all that perfect symmetry of hue, 
 The great and r^an alike to magnetize, 
 Remain, remain ! 
 
 i i 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The painter craves it ; quickened memory 
 Is not enough that he may limn thee true. 
 What tint that lingers to the inner eye 
 Atones for the lost magic of a hue ? 
 Lo ! from the canvas hath he oft erased 
 An image all unworthy of thy grace. 
 O ! tarry till thy devotee have gazed 
 So long, and wrought so well, that he at last 
 Shall win his way in Fame and Fortune's race, 
 The while adoring, with the vision passed, 
 The all of thee that is above his Art. 
 Thou high Despair of all with pen or brush, 
 Well dost thou vanish, if thou but return ; 
 For none will know before thy charm depart 
 That they have done thee honour, and yet feel 
 The urgency of Beauty's old appeal 
 
 To magnify thee, and the rush 
 Of sanguine hope ! Too long thy hues would burn, 
 Unless they lit the torch of fiery zeal : 
 Unflush, unflush ! 
 
 But come again ! or lovers would despond 
 Who learn their language from thy fairy tints- 
 The passionate appeal, the emblem fond, 
 The gracious simile, the gentle hints. 
 The rapt divine, unless thou reappear, 
 Might miss his symbol of the Trinity, 
 The One white radiance, glaringly severe, 
 Attempered, in the lovely Triune blend, 
 
THE RAINBOW 
 
 To mortal vision and infirmity 
 Thro' the sad tearful vapours that descend. 
 The poet too may fail of heavenly fire 
 Mid the dark hurricane till he survey 
 The arch triumphal o'er a conquered storm, 
 And feel its splendour mighty to inspire. 
 O soft Conspirator, in Beauty's name, 
 With sunsets, moonbeams, and the fitful game 
 
 Of faint auroras in their play, 
 And all divinity of hue and form, 
 Soon with thy tender evanescent flame 
 Repaint the grey ! 
 
 And so for ever reappear and melt ! 
 While here, a pledge that Beauty never quits 
 Their life by whom her magic can be felt : 
 When gone, a prophecy that she but flits 
 For them to prize her plenitude the more. 
 And whether here, or gone, in memory stay 
 Immovable as all her radiant store, 
 That when the heart a treasury doth ope, 
 The tearful heart_that ever new display 
 Will justify illimitable hope- 
 Hope based upon the Covenant Divine 
 Whose emblem is a Rainbow round the Throne- 
 Hope that no flood of mortal misery 
 Shall burst the bar that shelters me and mine- 
 Hope that the deluge of immortal woe 
 
 3 i—2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 My faith's firm landmarks shall not overflow- 
 Hope for despairers, nor alone 
 For them, but even all Humanity. 
 Oh ! flying thus, ere long returning, so 
 Abide unflown ! 
 
 GRADUAL GROWTH. 
 
 The rose to-day 
 Blooms as she blossomed when the world was young; 
 
 The blackbird's liquid lay 
 Is just the music his forefathers sung : 
 
 The latest flowers will smile 
 As did the earliest : and when the shades 
 Of Earth's last eve have fallen, nightingales 
 Shall flood the moonlit vales 
 With the same melody divine 
 As sheds enchantment now 
 On many a poet's dream, a lover's vow, 
 And makes this scene of ours 
 For all the vanished sun, 
 The dusky trees, the folded flowers, 
 Your paradise, beloved one, 
 
 And mine ! 
 The hound, perchance, 
 Turns a more telling glance 
 Upon his lord than did the dogs of yore. 
 Tame creatures all, methinks, 
 
 4 
 
GRADUAL GROWTH 
 
 Charmed by our spell, infected by our lore, 
 Bound to our life by unimagined links, 
 
 Are other than they were, 
 
 Untutored, rude and wild, 
 When Earth, tho' beautiful_nay, passing fair, 
 
 Had never known a human pair 
 
 Who looked and loved and smiled : 
 
 But Man_'tis hardly strange 
 That he should gradually change, 
 Unlike the beast and bird and flower 
 That feel but little humanizing power. 
 Not far removed from lower lives perhaps 
 In that primeval time, 
 The likeness vanished in the lapse 
 Of Ages for it can but climb, 
 (Whate'er the mortal tent) 
 The Spirit that is in him, up 
 The ladder of ascent 
 Based on the native sod. 
 He who did breakfast with the beasts 
 Will with the Angels sup, 
 And sleep a little ere he feasts 
 Upon the top with God ! 
 
 And Men_the human Race, 
 The family, the tribe, the nation- 
 What dignity of form and face, 
 What magnitude, and skill and grace, 
 5 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Have come thro' congregation ! 
 From the promiscuous trooping, 
 In vain or violent array, 
 Perchance for battle, prayer or play, 
 Of the fresh simple clan 
 Of prehistoric Man : 
 And from the foredetermined grouping, 
 Whereof sure natural Laws 
 Were the inevitable cause : 
 From Fate's eternal sorting, 
 Wrought out by free and fond consorting. 
 As from the primal Substance, that one mass 
 By subdivision grew to various life, 
 So from the single unit quickly came 
 
 Full many a multiplying class, 
 To bear and dignify the human name. 
 
 Mankind from one alone, 
 The two in one, the husband and the wife, 
 Into the Peoples of the world, 
 Each with its tribal flag unfurled, 
 Has gradually grown. 
 In God's grand Silence, Heaven's high Calm, 
 Has come the quiet hardly noted growth, 
 Mid Nature's tides and seasons years and moons, 
 Her matin melody, and vesper psalm, 
 Her rosy dawns, red eves, and golden noons, 
 Mid human rage and fret and noise, 
 Amusement, industry and sloth. 
 6 
 
GRADUAL GROWTH 
 
 It was, and is the fruitful equipoise 
 Of Might Divine, and man's activity- 
 Power from above in boundless flow, 
 But limited by this below, 
 Man's receptivity. 
 Oft has the Might descended in the Breath 
 Of Prophets who have swept the People's heart, 
 As a wild autumn wind 
 Disturbs accumulated death, 
 To blow the withered blooms away 
 With fruit and foliage nigh decay, 
 And leave but health behind. 
 
 Or haply thro' a Poet's song, 
 A Minstrel's magic art, 
 The Might has stirred the human Deep, 
 As when the waves that on calm Ocean sleep 
 Are wakened by a breeze that trips along 
 The blue, and swells into a hurricane, 
 When wind and billow blent uproll 
 Shell, weed, and wreckage, from the foaming Main. 
 
 Thus has it been with many a soul, 
 Swept by the potent music of a Seer, 
 Inspired to rouse the spirit of his Age, 
 
 With a poetic equipage 
 As various as the winds that veer. 
 In some one region has a rise 
 
 Then followed, for the worst 
 At length obey the lead that first 
 7 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Is given by the best. 
 As if a boy by tutors, spurred 
 To enter for a prize. 
 Were so to fire his mates with zest 
 That Wisdom wins full many a fool, 
 And idlers all are strangely stirred 
 To lift the level of the school. 
 Or steal a simile from one 
 Stricken in part, but well again, 
 And now that suffering is done 
 The taller and robuster for the pain ! 
 And where men peaceably combine 
 They woo the Might Divine- 
 It comes thro' social bliss, and intercourse 
 Between the nations, as the human frame 
 Will wax in stature and increase in force, 
 Where all the limbs make unity their aim. 
 No less It comes through internecine strife, 
 As when the hedgerow's fertile symmetry, 
 
 The meadow's flowering charm, 
 Grow from the myriad plants that die, 
 To save and strengthen the survivor's life. 
 In ways, by means, undreamt of It will come 
 Till Earth's life-bearing Age be past, 
 And Human nature's ample sum 
 Be reckoned up at last. 
 
 And We, a man and woman, ah ! 
 We too have changed and grown. 
 
GRADUAL GROWTH 
 
 Back to our sunny childhood is not far, 
 
 So fast the years have flown. 
 Our frames, our faces too, I leave alone, 
 For Nature's forms all wax and wane. 
 But gradual progress, constant growth 
 Have held the spirit of us both. 
 The mind of each is now a flower 
 That was a bud in babyhood, 
 Which braved the wind and rain, 
 Now open for life's sunlit hour, 
 To close at dusky eve 
 Thro' shadowing night maybe, 
 And then_ah ! that we can but leave 
 Till the unveiling of all Mystery. 
 Our hearts are changed, as when the case 
 
 That shields the future butterfly 
 Has burst to let its now developed grace 
 Sport in the splendour of the summer sky ; 
 Or, as when freckled eggs disclose the wings 
 That soon will soar into the beckoning blue, 
 And seraph throats to swell the choir that sings 
 So blithely when a sunbeam's glint 
 Has glorified each tender tint 
 Of vernal scenery df various hue ; 
 So did our youthful hearts unfold 
 Empurpled pinions that reflected gold 
 
 From Love's unsetting Sun, 
 Which when it shone were first unfurled 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 To spirit us above the misty world : 
 
 And so did happy music rise 
 From our full hearts to voice their ecstasies. 
 In view, and outlook on the mortal scene, 
 In taste and pastime also, growth has been. 
 What care the eager and untiring boy, 
 
 The merry pleasure-seeking girl, 
 Who love the game of skill, the festive whirl, 
 
 For pensive bliss, for intellectual joy ? 
 The aims, the hopes, the visions, that engage 
 Bright flushing Youth are hardly those 
 
 Of strenuous middle-Age, 
 Much less of shadowing Repose. 
 To that both you and I will shortly come, 
 Ere adding our life-history to the sum 
 Of Man's experience. 
 May naught unworthy of the best be said 
 Of our brief being when we too are dead ! 
 
 Let this assuredly be true 
 Of weak Time-fettered, Earth-bound me and you, 
 That changing, in one point we altered not, 
 And growing, in one thing we greater grew, 
 Throughout a calm, and haply troubled, lot- 
 Unaltered in our loyalty to Truth, 
 We, to the love first felt in golden youth, 
 Became more fondly true. 
 
THE FULL MOON. 
 
 Now be I one with them who kiss the hand, 
 And queen thee, nor alone for thy pure face ! 
 To-night thou rulest every northern land 
 With silvery sceptre and right royal grace. 
 Ere southern skies enthrone thee, let me add 
 My anthem for yon bright unselfishness, 
 The gazing upon eyes that look not up 
 In homage to thy truth and tenderness, 
 The flood of splendour upon good and bad. 
 Each with the sun may breakfast bright and glad ; 
 The moonbeams shed their calm on all who sup. 
 
 For this I hymn thy worth, that thou hast solved 
 
 The riddle of due Change with Constancy, 
 
 The human problem_for thou hast revolved 
 
 Remaining round, in glorious Fixity. 
 
 'Tis the illusion born of Earth and Time 
 
 That makes thee new, half-orbed, three-quarters, full. 
 
 If others think we seldom look the same, 
 
 The judgment is not always fanciful. 
 
 Ah ! thou art of the Verities sublime 
 
 Whose music is His everlasting chime 
 
 Who seems to vary for our praise or blame. 
 
 The sun may weave his rainbows, and can paint 
 The sky with his inimitable hues. 
 
 ii 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The twilight deepens, and a simple saint 
 Looks out, and can but silver, what she views. 
 And yet for all his golden worth, the sun 
 Could hardly vaunt his usefulness o'er thine : 
 By him we count the hours of day ; thro' thee 
 We both the course of darkness can divine 
 By calm enchantment till the dawn be won, 
 And tell how far the month's career has run, 
 And paler rainbow tints of beauty see. 
 
 And then the tides_oh ! may I rather miss 
 The fires of morn and eve than the return 
 Of the wild rushing waves with foamy kiss 
 Embracing the rough rock for which they yearn. 
 The hour be far when I no more respond 
 To the white gulls, and the reviving breeze, 
 Too quickly dying down, yet with its death, 
 While the ebb current backs with quiet ease, 
 Baring the sand, or oozy marsh beyond, 
 With here and there a wader-haunted pond 
 Where piping shore-birds wait the tide's new breath! 
 
 O silver-beamed Enchantress of the deep, 
 The sea of Time for all obeys thy spell ! 
 Months wax and wane, and waking follows sleep, 
 Thou thro' the darkness standing sentinel. 
 And every month is broken up in days, 
 And hours and moments, as the ocean wide 
 
 12 
 
BEAUTY DOMINANT 
 
 Breaks into waves that in brief ripples end : 
 And thy attraction, as the rising tide, 
 Uplifts my heart, while riveting my gaze, 
 For when they fall, 'tis only that the ways 
 Of envious Earth demand that they descend ! 
 
 BEAUTY DOMINANT. 
 
 Who is unmindful of Love's rosy days 
 When One whereon the heart has lavished wealth 
 Shines swift and sudden as the lightning-blaze 
 Or gleams with gradual morning's golden stealth ? 
 Not I_because 'tis Beauty that I love, 
 And she, at least a little, favours me, 
 Nor ever more than on a peerless morn 
 To spirit me above 
 The mortal maze, tho' then to leave me lorn 
 With naught to comfort me but memory. 
 
 She thrilled my senses : the accustomed scene 
 Became a vision of extreme delight 
 Beneath her spell : the loveliness serene 
 Was quickened till it blazed with beings bright : 
 The fields were full of angels, all the flowers 
 Seraphically shone, the wavy trees 
 
 i.3 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Held whispering spirits, and bright fairies seemed 
 
 To haunt the forest bowers. 
 And presently the pagan in me dreamed 
 Of gods antique and Grecian phantasies. 
 
 The sense that feeds on fragrance She bewitched- 
 
 A rarer perfume roses could not yield : 
 
 A special bounty seemed to have enriched 
 
 The May, and many a blossom of the field : 
 
 Their sweet aroma made me recollect 
 
 The brightest moments of my vanished youth, 
 
 And lent me wings for the enchanted realm. 
 
 My heart danced o'er the main 
 Of Joy, unpiloted till cruel Truth 
 Bade errant Reason back to take the helm. 
 
 Nor did She fail my hearing to besiege 
 With lovelier words than ever fell before 
 Upon the ear of an enraptured liege, 
 From the fair demoiselle he did adore. 
 And Nature's bards were mightily inspired : 
 A sunlit orchestra appeared afar, 
 Whose leader with a golden wand beat time 
 
 For myriads, whom he fired 
 To add rare music to the echoing chime 
 That rang thro' heaven from every morning star. 
 
 Yes, and She thrilled me thro' the sense of taste, 
 Did that pervading Beauty whom I hymn. 
 
 14 
 
BEAUTY DOMINANT 
 
 For all must feed alike, the vile, the chaste : 
 Ambrosia fed me, and a cup did brim 
 With nectar for me at my noonday meal : 
 And thro' my tingling veins a rapture ran 
 Unfelt before, the glory that perchance 
 
 Immortals calmly feel, 
 That makes, in our rude world, his spirit dance 
 Who hungers for it, the impassioned man. 
 
 And my remaining sense She charmed the best, 
 
 Reserving her rare witchery for touch. 
 
 Ah ! let me sing it plainly, or the rest 
 
 Of my sweet ode might be obscure in much. 
 
 Beauty had been incarnate all the day 
 
 In One, yes One (you maidens understand!) 
 
 Who met the prayer that she my heart would bless 
 
 With a most wilful ' Nay,' 
 But when she sat beside me whispered ' Yes,' 
 And laid awhile in mine a lovely hand. 
 
 TO A PANSY. 
 
 The blossoms dancing in the Sun 
 Would wake my music with their smiles, 
 But most of them an ode have won 
 Before, and I resist their wiles : 
 is 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Nor need they toss their beauty now, 
 If one alone inspire me_thou, 
 
 Best charmer for to-day ! and why ? 
 Well, let me own it, I admire 
 The dreamy brow, the pensive eye, 
 With masculine, tho' chastened fire : 
 No flower with so divine a grace 
 Could wear so womanly a face- 
 So womanly and changeful too : 
 What girl has ever tried to look 
 More staid to a warm suitor's view ? 
 No matron who would be mistook 
 For a young maiden feigns a guise 
 Like that shy glance, those wondering eyes. 
 
 Yes, and to deem thee feminine 
 Doth honour but a single phase 
 Of thy regard who dost entwine 
 Some magic with my fickle gaze, 
 My veering fancy, and dost link 
 Thy spell with all I feel and think. 
 
 Cameleon among blossoms ! duped 
 By changes in thy countenance, 
 I oft have spared thee, tho' I stooped 
 To end thy zephyr-swept romance. 
 A face uplifted for a kiss, 
 Could e'en a ruffian ravish this ? 
 16 
 
THE BUGLOSS 
 
 Protean in thy charms, bloom on 
 In velvet beauty and delight ! 
 Make every sceptic muse upon 
 Thy grace and be a proselyte ! 
 Bewitch my gardener, sweet coquette, 
 And thy dark doomsday is not yet ! 
 
 THE BUGLOSS. 
 
 I paused before thy azure grace, 
 Mid circling emerald, with surprise ; 
 The human in that dreamy face, 
 The Argus of thy hundred eyes, 
 So riveted my heart, that song 
 Flowed from it as a fount ere long. 
 
 Thy glory challenged me to think 
 Of Birth, and Life, and Destiny, 
 While Fancy forged a lovely link 
 Between thy blended hues and me ; 
 Thy green the livery of earth, 
 Thy blue bespeaking higher birth. 
 
 The one, a wayfarer might pass ; 
 The other can but chain the eye. 
 Thy green outrivalled by the grass, 
 Thy blue more sapphire than the sky ; 
 In Flora's catalogue you find 
 Naught fairer than the two combined. 
 17 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 My nature springing from the sod 
 May lack the charm that many boast : 
 Nor is the being born of God 
 More heavenly than that of most 
 Bright beauty of the fields I see 
 How much I differ here from thee ! 
 
 I differ now, alas ! but will 
 It be so for my future life ? 
 Thy loveliness begets the thrill 
 Which fires to effort, toil, and strife, 
 That men in me the heaven may view 
 Now mirrored in thy matchless hue. 
 
 LISTENING TO THE WOOD-PIGEONS. 
 
 Too early wakened from a lovely dream, 
 I feel half angry with you, gentle pair ! 
 Ye should be sleeping still_.no orient gleam 
 Can yet have shone into your leafy lair. 
 Why the true eloquence I overheard ? 
 No eavesdropper am I, but who could fail 
 To know that lovers held communion sweet? 
 
 And fancy's fire, gay bird, 
 Will flame me ere on the pure morning gale 
 Thy wafted truth her phantasies shall cheat ! 
 18 
 
LISTENING TO THE WOOD-PIGEONS 
 
 Wert thou discoursing to thy darling mate 
 Of intimate delights that touch you both 
 Among the breezy branches, while the great 
 And small of men dream on in loveless sloth- 
 The eggs immaculate that calmly rest 
 Full high removed from predatory paws, 
 The morrow's play, or flight on burnished wings, 
 A happy pair, untrammelled by the laws 
 And social curbs that fetter human things ? 
 
 Or, spite of our belief that we alone 
 Imagine, think, and carry out our plans, 
 Do ye now with a wisdom all your own 
 Sit in true judgment on your state and man's, 
 And deem yourselves the wiser, who in cool 
 Sequestered calm enjoy a simple life, 
 Nor let the future vex or fever you ? 
 
 While man, unreasoning fool, 
 Fears for to-morrow ere it dawn in view, 
 And fills to-day with empty toil and strife. 
 
 Vain questionings ! far 'better that I rise 
 On wings of Poetry, and image one, 
 The maddest maniac that in the skies 
 Doth borrow splendour from the eastern sun, 
 Who soars and strikes his wings <(a.s he who claps 
 Delighted hands) and struts about and coos, 
 Then glistens on the grass, and wins the tree 
 Whereon she smiles perhaps 
 
 19 ?- «» 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Of hardly less enchanting form and hues- 
 Better to image this, and name it thee ! 
 
 But hark ! thy strain once more recalls the love 
 That, in thy youth beginning, never ends_ 
 The while our fickle amours veer and rove, 
 And ardour cools, and mates are merely friends. 
 Thy voice, thou contrast to our frailty, 
 Thro' morn and eve and dreamy afternoon 
 More thrills one than the twilit nightingale's ! 
 
 Life's note of constancy, 
 It lifts no music to the changing moon, 
 Like his whose summer passion flames and fails. 
 
 A SEASIDE REVELATION. 
 
 What does it mean_the lucent line 
 That crowns the turmoil of yon waves, 
 And, like a silver rim, doth shine, 
 Tho' wild behind it ocean raves ? 
 My heart, unveil the mystery 
 To me from thy lone history ! 
 
 It means that if fierce troubles roll 
 Like breakers from the sea of life, 
 Straight for the coast of a lorn soul, 
 As if to whelm it with their strife, 
 20 
 
A SEASIDE REVELATION 
 
 Uptossed before her and descending, 
 They shine like silver in their ending. 
 
 It means that when the stormy deep 
 Of Passion, by rude winds above, 
 Is wakened from a sunny sleep 
 To boisterous play, it ends in Love. 
 From rainbow tears come gentle blisses, 
 As sea and shore now blend in kisses. 
 
 It means that mental tempests vex 
 The mind that questions, not in vain. 
 What tho' its sea be strewn with wrecks 
 Of falsehood, if one stay remain, 
 If from the furious strife Doubt urges, 
 The silver line of Truth emerges ! 
 
 It means that sorrow for a past 
 Of error need not bring despair. 
 Fear's hurricane may lash the vast 
 Dark deep, and leave but billows there : 
 But every wave so rudely dashing 
 Is glory-tipped and dies in flashing. 
 
 21 
 
IN THE SEASON. 
 
 Bright Royalty a Court doth hold 
 
 In yon sweet meadow scene, 
 The sovereign Sun arrayed in gold, 
 
 His consort Earth in green. 
 The guests, a bevy of gay flowers, 
 Brought out by helpful gleams and showers, 
 In field and lane and forest bowers- 
 Diverse of lovely mien. 
 
 The proudest ladies of the land 
 
 Could never rival these ; 
 All fair princesses, mark them stand 
 
 In calm patrician ease ! 
 With heads on high, tho' gracious too, 
 Of dainty form to fit the hue, 
 Now bridling to my ardent view, 
 
 Now dancing in the breeze ; 
 
 Like lovely maids, or even saints, 
 
 For never do I see 
 A trace in them of that which taints 
 
 Sweet woman, jealousy. 
 None robed in yellow envy those 
 In blue or green or delicate rose ; 
 And none upon the rest impose 
 
 A social tyranny. 
 
 22 
 
IN THE SEASON 
 
 Ah ! can it be a Court at all 
 That these dim eyes discern ? 
 
 Mid veering gales, as in a ball, 
 The blossoms bend and turn, 
 
 As if a sprightly masquerade 
 
 Of elves from fairyland had strayed, 
 
 And pirouetted in a glade 
 Of herbage, grass, and fern. 
 
 Or can they be a radiant host 
 
 Of spirits from above, 
 A seraph each, or happy ghost 
 
 Fresh from the realm of Love 
 That haunt the blossoms to impart 
 A charm to my inconstant heart, 
 Lest from it Poetry depart, 
 
 Or lingering Beauty rove ? 
 
 DUAL DOMINION. 
 
 Th e tides of Ocean have their ebb and flow_ 
 This, dull and tame ; that, freshened by a breeze. 
 The North wind with its whirl of sleet and snow 
 Veers to the South, and wintry weather flees. 
 Spring weaves the garniture on plants and trees 
 That sombre Autumn ruthlessly dissolves. 
 Health alternates in mortals with disease. 
 'Tis thus with everything-while Earth revolves 
 Death fluctuates with Life : the riddle no one solves. 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And so it is in keeping with the whole 
 
 That two great Powers possess a man in turn, 
 
 And lull or energize him, body and soul ; 
 
 Call them two Spirits you cannot discern, 
 
 Or Angels, if you will, as both could earn 
 
 That blessed name thro' somewhat of their spell ! 
 
 Tho' life would wane without their due return, 
 
 Too long a reign of either we repel : 
 
 'Tis in the equipoise of both that men are well. 
 
 Darkness and Light together sum our course, 
 
 So One I feign to borrow from the Night_ 
 
 A form ethereal, a silent force, 
 
 With moonlit wings and features silvery white, 
 
 Who, as a ghost-moth, rests from rapid flight. 
 
 The Other owes all splendour to the Day, 
 
 With sungilt face, and pinions golden-bright, 
 
 And, as a burnished butterfly doth play 
 
 O'er half-unfolded flowers, on open blooms to stay. 
 
 Angel of Sleep ! thine is the earlier claim. 
 Words faint the while I celebrate thy grace 
 And gentleness to our poor weary frame. 
 Thy beauty broods upon the slumbering face 
 As light doth rest on some calm mountain-place, 
 Or like a starbeam mirrored on the sea. 
 Nay, I could think thy seraph arms embrace 
 The dreamer of what is, or is to be, 
 So wholly is he thine, in visions born of thee ! 
 
 24 
 
DUAL DOMINION 
 
 To prove thy magic and kind virtue, look 
 Upon the changes of his countenance ! 
 They tell the tale as from an opening book 
 The rapt expression, as if high romance 
 Or golden poetry were in that trance : 
 The smile, like ripples on a sunlit main, 
 From rapture too divine for utterance. 
 Pure joys and balms are blending there, and Pain, 
 Should that have wandered in, will never long 
 remain. 
 
 Angel of Wakefulness ! I call thee that 
 
 (And change my metaphor) who stealing in 
 
 Relievest her who now full long has sat 
 
 Beside our fevered frame, and dost begin 
 
 By thine own medicine new health to win. 
 
 Thy tonic is the strenuous employ 
 
 Of every power without us and within. 
 
 Thy promise is all ailments to destroy 
 
 By Nature's simples, and produce an ampler joy. 
 
 'Tis thine in full activity to keep 
 The body that thy sister seraph tries 
 By many a charm to dominate in sleep. 
 I paint thee one who envies her the prize. 
 She round the slumberer, but thou his head 
 Fanning with sunny wings that almost shed 
 Their golden sheen to dazzle his dull eyes, 
 
 25 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Until her stupefying charm have fled, 
 And thou with ruder spell have roused him from 
 the bed. 
 
 Angel of Sleep ! I owe thee naught for this, 
 That thou dost seal the eyelids of the mind, 
 Thus robbing men of intellectual bliss, 
 And knowledge of, and commune with, their kind ; 
 Ah ! to how much have I for long been blind. 
 Fair realms of love, and tracts of thought beyond, 
 Have smiled and beckoned me, but thou didst 
 
 bind 
 With silken toils, and wave a poppied wand, 
 And soon my drowsy lids were fast in thy firm 
 
 bond 
 
 And more I blame thee for a slumbering heart ! 
 Much love, much power of loving have I lost, 
 As when a garden wholly or in part 
 Is reft of fragrant flowers through bitter frost. 
 Who yields to sloth will pay a heavy cost. 
 Ah ! the sweet blooms that chilly rigour nips, 
 The souls men might, and yet do not, accost. 
 Fools to sleep on unkissed by waiting lips ! 
 What garden growth can thrive mid Love's bright 
 sun's eclipse ? 
 
 26 
 
DUAL DOMINION 
 
 Nor have I done with chiding thee, for worse 
 Hast thou behaved toward me oft. Repose 
 Of conscience is no blessing but a curse : 
 But mine has slept ere now_a gentle doze 
 May turn to torpor, if a draught compose, 
 Or a fixed gaze confront the patient's eyes : 
 Thy anodynes and opiates calmed the throes ; 
 Thy spell was theirs who seek to hypnotize. 
 What wonder with thy charm that conscience 
 nearly dies ! 
 
 Angel of Wakefulness ! why hast thou failed 
 To save me from her fatal witchery ? 
 Hadst thou been near, thy power must have pre- 
 vailed ! 
 Mind, heart and conscience, each with open eye 
 Might have fulfilled a worthier destiny. 
 Thy rival would have paled if thou hadst shone. 
 Does not the moonlight with the sunrise die ? 
 My frame cries out for both, if one be gone ; 
 My spirit needs thee only_stay thou on ! 
 
 But hold ! I err_the great Eternal Laws, 
 That everywhere and always work, require 
 Rest and reaction, energy and pause. 
 The mind when visionless may more acquire : 
 
 27 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The torpid heart may burn with steadier fire, 
 And learn new love, ah ! well enough to break : 
 Nay, conscience even can thro' rest acquire 
 More keenness to approve, or blame and ache. 
 Good Angels, come in turn ! for I would sleep, and 
 wake. 
 
 A REVIVAL. 
 
 The spirit of the saintly dead 
 May ever and anon arise, 
 Inexplicable cheer to shed 
 O'er wistful hearts and weeping eyes. 
 
 The spirit of a happy past, 
 Long buried in the grave of years, 
 Will wake from memory to cast 
 A rainbow round the cloud of tears. 
 
 The one, or both of them, methinks, 
 Have just recalled a tender joy, 
 To clasp anew the riven links 
 Of the chain round me when a boy ; 
 
 For suddenly_ah ! how and why? 
 A scene shone out and many a form, 
 As autumn lightning fires the sky 
 And flames the earth before a storm. 
 
 28 
 
A REVIVAL 
 
 What, spirits ? do you ask me ? Yes. 
 On Earth again ? Well, call it Heaven ! 
 They all were angels, all_unless 
 They were but mortal, and in Devon, 
 
 The Clime that was my childhood's home 
 O'er its illumined fields and coast 
 Each glistened, every one did roam, 
 A human love, a golden ghost. 
 
 And I for ever could have stayed 
 Amonget them on that splendid shore- 
 But lightning does not even fade ; 
 Heaven opens, and then shuts the door. 
 
 No thunder over me has rolled ; 
 But 1 could dare a tempest's strife, 
 If God would once again unfold 
 That vision of a vanished life ! 
 
 SEASIDE IMAGININGS. 
 
 Oft from the vantage of a rocky shore 
 I, gazing on the fitful Sea, behold 
 A sudden splendour unobserved before, 
 Too warm for silver, and too white for gold ; 
 First a white tract, then gleamings manifold ; 
 29 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Now near to me, now in the middle main, 
 And now far off : but ah ! how grey and cold 
 The outlook seems upon the billowy plain 
 When it has faded oft before wild wind and rain. 
 
 And so it is upon the sea of Life, 
 Whose calm or roughness we in vain forecast. 
 Heaven flashes glory on this chequered strife- 
 The present, or the future, or the past- 
 And such a glory if it. could but last ! 
 That part of our experience for the time 
 Appears transfigured by the sunlight cast 
 Upon its gloom, but lo ! a changing clime, 
 With tempest as the cost of radiance so sublime. 
 
 And more, there is a strange far coast beyond 
 My prospect from the rock whereon I stand : 
 Yet have I sometimes caught with vision fond 
 The semblance, glory-edged, and darkly grand, 
 Before foul weather, of that distant land ; 
 And is it not that Faith may master Doubt, 
 Ere gathering storms of trial, that a Hand 
 Uncurtains Heaven to flame the sunshine out, 
 That if the whirlwind rage we may be calm 
 throughout ? 
 
 ¥> 
 
THE DELIVERER. 
 
 My soul imprisoned like the Saint of old 
 
 Lay fast asleep : 
 And her the tyrant Sense two soldiers told 
 
 To safely keep : 
 Stupidity and selfishness, they twain 
 
 Held each a chain. 
 Thus doomed to death she lay, when lo ! one 
 night 
 
 An Angel bright. 
 
 His glory shone upon her wakening eyes, 
 
 And at his call, 
 From off her when she struggled to arise 
 
 The fetters fall. 
 Begirt and mantled from the dungeon dim 
 
 She follows him : 
 And on he leads her thro' an opening gate 
 
 To a new State. 
 
 What tho' he vanish when the street is passed, 
 
 If she be left 
 Mid beauty that remains, and joys that last ? 
 
 Nor is she reft 
 In truth, of him, for Angels come and go 
 
 From sight below, 
 To charm us nearer them, the more to bless, 
 
 And not the less. 
 31 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And do you seek to know his name ? 'Tis Love. 
 
 In guise of Earth 
 He freed my soul, ere quickening from Above 
 
 A Heavenly birth. 
 A form of human beauty first he led 
 
 Her from the dead, 
 And left me void of what the City vaunts 
 
 In Nature's haunts 
 
 Yet left me not, for I, a lover, still 
 
 Am blest the more, 
 Because the sky, sea, meadow, lane, and hill 
 
 I so adore. 
 Mankind is brighter to me now, with one 
 
 A human sun ; 
 While Angels glisten mid the blue and green 
 
 Tho' half unseen. 
 
 ' THOU KNOWEST NOT THE WAY OF 
 THE SPIRIT.' 
 
 Who tracketh her flight in the golden day, 
 With the flesh wide awake, mid the thrill of Sense, 
 On the wings of Thought, or thro' Fancy's play, 
 To the limit here set by the mortal fence ? 
 
 Who marketh her course in the solemn night, 
 When the frame is asleep, and she speedeth on 
 With a passport denied to the keenest sight, 
 For the dreamland no waker can look upon ? 
 
 32 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 Who guesseth her way with the wings unfurled 
 That never again will be closing here ? 
 Doth any eye follow her into the World 
 Where the hidden is plain, and the vision clear ? 
 
 Ah ! wilt thou then scorn if a living lip 
 Should whisper of what an Immortal knows, 
 Or be deaf to a hint from the fellowship 
 Of the spirits once here who have reached repose ? 
 
 THE MAN IN THE MOON. 
 
 Is it but Fancy's frolic in the brain 
 That Dian doth our lineaments display ? 
 That human features dim or even plain 
 The clear sublunary expanse survey? 
 A poet's dream, a child's imaginings, 
 You think? So be it, for Truth often lights 
 On bards and babes, yet soars above the mind 
 That questions not half-apprehended sights. 
 Ah ! tho' he falter, hear the one who sings 
 What he discerns of transcendental things 
 Whereto mere scorners may be wholly blind ! 
 
 Yea, let them laugh, the vain or busy throng 
 Blind to the pageantry of Morn and Eve, 
 Deaf to Earth's music, and the Waves' sad song, 
 Who were all Nature veiled would hardly grieve ! 
 33 3 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Can I be sceptic too who yesternight 
 Turned of a sudden Heavenward to mark 
 A beauty past my thought, above my dream ? 
 Oh ! such a presence. Why, the violet dark 
 Seemed an imperial purple ! From the bright 
 Round argent Orb a brow of noble height 
 O'er features of calm dignity did beam. 
 
 Great Globe of silver, courted as a queen, 
 
 Why doth the masculine on thee repose, 
 
 Or rise from thee, as from a frame terrene 
 
 The spirit like a flower unfolding blows ? 
 
 Emblem of the Eternal feminine 
 
 Methinks thou art, and Manhood thus appears 
 
 Upon thy bosom for our hearts to guess 
 
 That what has borne them thro' the cradling years 
 
 Is the pure womanly in the Divine, 
 
 Or e'en if they decipher not the sign 
 
 To waken fancy thro' the loveliness. 
 
 And was Astarte in dark ancient days 
 Adored, unconsciously because of it ? 
 Did men the more devoutly on thee gaze 
 That they beheld their features interknit 
 With thine unhuman glory ? For I think 
 That were a tribute to a Heavenlier Creed ! 
 Man worships what is to himself germane : 
 The Faith to fetter him must meet the need. 
 
 34 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 The great Unknown from whom he else would 
 
 shrink 
 Must with his nature forge a shining link, 
 Or love were empty, adoration vain. 
 
 And is there not in Man an ample cause 
 Pure Orb for this transfigurement of thine ? 
 In rebel Man, the breaker of the laws 
 That fit his nature human and Divine. 
 Let him look up to One who wears his face, 
 Yet never swerves from an appointed course ! 
 True to thine orbit, dost thou not distil 
 Dews of delight, not tears of vain remorse ? 
 To live aloft, to shed benignant grace, 
 To calm and shine upon a darkened Race, 
 All may be his, as thine, if he but will. 
 
 And He who fashioned thee may bid thee shew 
 
 Our outline thus in tender sympathy. 
 
 Ah ! the relentless tides_the ebb and flow 
 
 Of thought and feeling, joy and misery ! 
 
 Can ocean-currents disobey thy spell ? 
 
 And timid mortals, who so darkly share 
 
 The alternation, He would educate. 
 
 For lo ! the tidal Regent seems to wear 
 
 Tho' faintly oft, Humanity as well, 
 
 The midnight of our terror to dispel, 
 
 To temper fear, and soften iron Fate. 
 
 35 3—2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And would it testify to purblind Man 
 
 Law's constancy, Life's uniformity, 
 
 That he may view a never-varying plan, 
 
 A common origin, and destiny ? 
 
 Thou with the fire of sunny youth at first 
 
 Life-bearing then, and now in silvery age, 
 
 Art what he is, or was, or will be soon. 
 
 The war with Fate or Fortune he may wage, 
 
 Dream, hope, desire, affection, quenchless thirst, 
 
 But liken him to thee, at best or worst, 
 
 And leave him in decay, O holy Moon ! 
 
 Yes holy, for I deem that thou art steeped 
 In glory thus for men to learn the truth 
 Of Life in Death, a saintly harvest reaped 
 From early sowing-time. A nobler youth 
 Than that old prime of fire is thine perchance. 
 Men may deny thee the support of life, 
 Water and atmosphere, but who can say 
 That, franchised all of suffering, toil, and strife, 
 Bright Beings, who require no sustenance 
 From Nature, share not thine inheritance 
 Of higher Life, and Beauty thro' decay ? 
 
 And in thy phases pensive Man may view 
 The total of his Being, every change, 
 The waxing life that wanes to round anew, 
 It may be with a constant interchange 
 
 36 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 Of light and darkness as we live and die. 
 And haply thou art the Interpreter 
 Of various endowment, gift, and store. 
 To call one poor or wealthy were to err : 
 The crescent life will round ; and by-and-by 
 The full will lose the ampler destiny, 
 Perchance when this or after lives are o'er. 
 
 Beauty's High-priestess thou. Ah ! gentle faith, 
 Wherefrom no mortal is a heretic. 
 O glorious ghost, O transcendental wraith, 
 Rise rounded, and we all are lunatic ! 
 Yet frenzied eyes are quiet thro' thee now, 
 And hearts whose monomania is thy calm. 
 With vision keen and steady may they see 
 Thy plenitude and feel thy heavenly balm ; 
 And let the human lines, the lofty brow, 
 Uplift and cheer their hearts like mine, for thou 
 In thy full loveliness art true, to me ! 
 
 A SONG OF SUNSHINE. 
 
 O the worth of being 
 On a morn like this ! 
 O the mirth of seeing 
 Such enraptured bliss ! 
 37 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 O the gain of gladness 
 When creation sings ! 
 O the pain that sadness 
 Or dejection brings ! 
 
 Days there are when dreaming 
 Yields to happy sight. 
 When all empty seeming 
 Fades in pure delight 
 Days for naught but feeling 
 That the Earth is fair, 
 Nature, fraught with healing, 
 Beauty everywhere. 
 
 Do the rabbits yonder 
 Dread o'ershadowing doom ? 
 Does the pipit ponder 
 Coming autumn gloom ? 
 Is the linnet trilling 
 Of a former state ? 
 Blackbirds are but thrilling 
 Each a hidden mate. 
 
 Would the lark, now raining 
 Music with such zest, 
 Linger long complaining 
 Of a rifled nest ? 
 38 
 
A SONG OF SUNSHINE 
 
 Bee-like gather honey, 
 Sing thro' your employ ! 
 "What are fame and money 
 Now, compared with joy ? 
 
 Joy, in spite of sorrow 
 Felt, but all forgot ; 
 Joy too rich to borrow 
 From another's lot ; 
 Joy that shares the story 
 Round thee and above, 
 Owing half its glory, 
 Like all else, to Love ! 
 
 READY, AYE READY! 
 
 Enfolded in yon tiny cloud are gale, 
 
 And gloom, and wreck ! 
 The sky is blue, but what will that avail 
 
 With yonder speck ? 
 'Twill spread and gather, and the hurricane 
 
 Will sweep the main ; 
 And barques that scorn and slight it will go down 
 
 Beneath its frown. 
 
 O to be well equipped and ready for 
 
 A threatening war ! 
 O to be timely watchful, and remove 
 
 The gloom o'er love ! 
 39 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 For tho' they wrap men quickly in a shroud 
 
 Like that small cloud, 
 Yet can they be dissolved, if not too late 
 
 We parry Fate. 
 
 THE LINNET'S LOYALTY. 
 
 Deep as the crimson of thy crown and breast, 
 In musing on your race, I blush for ours, 
 Sweet meadow-minstrel who dost now arrest 
 My vision, carolling 'mid April flowers ! 
 One doth inspire thy hymn and claim thy care 
 
 That nestles in the furze. 
 Now over her, now cleaving the blue air, 
 
 I deem thee wholly hers. 
 Devoting to her cheer the gift of song 
 Thereby enriched for man, and earth's admiring 
 throng. 
 
 And are we vainly tutored thus by thee, 
 Unlicensed wooers chartered for self-love ? 
 Are warblers fashioned for full liberty 
 To hug the chains while men unlink and rove ? 
 Ah ! fitly did our Maker lend you wings 
 
 For soaring up on high, 
 To revel mid the everlasting things 
 
 That teach us from the Sky, 
 Ere, lighting with us on the fields of Earth, 
 Ye spur us to aspire to your diviner worth ! 
 
 40 
 
LATENT LOVELINESS 
 
 And thou, shy hidden one, who night and day 
 Art true to duty ! are they now alive, 
 The young for whom thou art content to stay 
 Barred from all joy, thy pleasure that they thrive? 
 Come, Lady consorts all ! quit the wild dance, 
 
 Leave the committee-room, 
 Steal tiptoed to the gorse, take one keen glance, 
 
 Add blushes to your bloom ! 
 And faces, fair to strangers, feet that roam 
 May compensate ere long an oft forsaken home. 
 
 LATENT LOVELINESS. 
 
 I passed a window in a church to-day 
 That moved me little, lacking warmth of hue. 
 ' Ah!' sighed the verger, ' what so many say !' 
 And yet I lingered, for a something drew 
 My fixed attention ; and a nearer view 
 Brought out half-hidden graces, till the whole 
 Stood out not only beautiful but true. 
 The man had both a feeling heart and soul ; 
 I therefore shewed him all, to teach him and 
 console. 
 
 He mentioned that his Vicar had for long 
 Appeared to him and others hard and cold ; 
 But knowing now full well that all were wrong, 
 He changed the view that he had held of old. 
 
 4i 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 ' Just like yon window,' I exclaimed when told : 
 ' A failure first it looked, a great success 
 It seems, now we allow it to unfold 
 Its inner worth ; for charms we could not guess 
 Are now revealed, our first harsh judgment to 
 redress.' 
 
 'Tis ever so : deep Nature and true Art 
 Yield not their treasure to the passer-by. 
 The graceless look, the hurried glance we dart 
 At pictures, poems, sculptures, dupe the eye 
 The inner gauge by which we truly try 
 And judge aright the merits that remain : 
 While oft in men we love not, we descry 
 At last, the good that will our hearts enchain. 
 The test of worth is where we look and look again. 
 
 A BIRTHDAY REVERIE. 
 
 Upon a milestone by the way 
 She fronts the road whereon she came ; 
 From walking weary, tired of play, 
 She muses_would you know her name ? 
 My spirit_she is but a child 
 Undisciplined, rebellious, spoiled, 
 From right too easily beguiled, 
 Footsore and hot, with garments soiled. 
 42 
 
A BIRTHDAY REVERIE 
 
 A something sets her looking back, 
 And fain would she revive the Past, 
 The Path prenatal none can track, 
 The journey thro' that Region vast ; 
 For glimmerings unborn of Earth 
 Have hinted that she bears the weight 
 She fastened on herself ere birth, 
 No sport of Chance, no slave of Fate. 
 
 The nearer Bygone claims her now, 
 The upward winding earthly course 
 'Neath golden sun and silver moon, 
 Mid joy, good, evil, pain, remorse. 
 And sister spirits are recalled 
 "With whom she mingled, some perchance 
 Ere flesh her liberty enthralled, 
 And some mid earthly circumstance. 
 
 And now she turns a troubled look 
 On fields whereto she oft would stray, 
 The truant that no curb could brook 
 Who left the dusty beaten way, 
 A butterfly to chase, to pluck 
 A. tempting flower, to follow all 
 That beckoning pleasure, fitful luck, 
 Displayed, tho' Duty would recall. 
 43 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Oh ! had she but been timely quick 
 To listen and obey, she now 
 Might feel unweary, less heartsick, 
 Unsullied too from mire and slough. 
 Ah ! empty trouble_yet not vain, 
 If fronting now the Present, tears 
 And vows should hallow what remain 
 Of the life-pathway, the set years. 
 
 The Present-is it simply what 
 
 The Past has wrought for every man, 
 
 A firm foundation laid, a lot 
 
 Unalterable, a set plan ? 
 
 Forbid it every impulse high, 
 
 Each noble aim, and grand resolve ! 
 
 A riddle of the By-and-by 
 
 It is, that none till then can solve. 
 
 If but the basis be relaid, 
 
 The plan improved, the lot reformed, 
 
 A Present from the fateful shade 
 
 Emerges, splendidly transform&d, 
 
 Wherefrom a Future may uprise 
 
 Of unimaginable weal, 
 
 To mock all evil prophecies 
 
 Of what the years may yet reveal. 
 
 44 
 
A BIRTHDAY REVERIE 
 
 Thus comforted, my spirit looks 
 Along the course to come, in hope 
 Of more than if Sybilline books 
 Of ancient mystery could ope, 
 And satisfy her from their lore, 
 That the untravelled way contains 
 A gradually waxing store 
 Of happiness that never wanes. 
 
 Right well she feels were that foretold 
 It could not, ought not, so to be. 
 Life's afternoon unclouded gold ? 
 Pure moonlight on the evening sea? 
 A calm, smooth, flowery downward road 
 Bright as the upward course of youth ? 
 Nay, nay, if any should forbode 
 Distress, 'twere haply nearer truth ! 
 
 But never child has been without 
 A Father, and my spirit knows 
 Her destiny too well to doubt 
 His welcome at her journey's close. 
 Thro' the uncertain mist she peers 
 To measure what she yet must roam, 
 How vainly ! yet for all her fears 
 In dim perspective glistens ' Home.' 
 45 
 
MIDNIGHT LIGHTNING. 
 
 Oh ! that yon thunder-cloud had trumpeted 
 Thine advent so that all had been prepared 
 For the supernal glory thou hast shed, 
 And each in the enlightenment had shared. 
 Now 'tis but retrospection, for the boom 
 Sets the heart quaking, and the dazzled eyes 
 Shut and reopen to what has been lost, 
 The 'might have been': we haply feel their doom 
 Who value it at last-Ah ! well to solemnize, 
 If awe be bought at not too great a cost. 
 
 For this was passing great ! The vivid flash 
 A very paradise to me revealed, 
 With look uplifted, ere the stunning crash 
 Bent me to ocean, mountain, wood and field. 
 The splendour brought, what memory perchance 
 May bring before the moment of our death, 
 Life's open landscape in full symmetry. 
 Heaven's mercy make it lovely to the glance. 
 Yon panorama left me void of breath- 
 May you see such a glory ere you die ! 
 
 And then thy beauty had this nobler worth, 
 
 Imagination felt its brilliancy, 
 
 Thought shone, and feeling quickened in new 
 
 birth, 
 My teeming world was wrapped in radiancy. 
 46 
 
MIDNIGHT LIGHTNING 
 
 The flash first seemed to be the fire that shot 
 From an indignant eye, the frowning cloud 
 A face of anger, while the deafening claps 
 Were loud rejoinders, of the feud begot. 
 Love's electricity may thunder loud 
 From two full hearts ere they unite perhaps. 
 
 And next the splendour was the sudden gleam 
 Of inspiration sheer beyond control. 
 Ere blazes forth the evanescent dream 
 The spirit feels the lofty thunder-roll, 
 And ah ! the loveliness then pictured out, 
 The vivid heaven enkindled in the heart, 
 The lit-up haunt of many a seraph form. 
 The unillumined thus may smile or doubt, 
 But genius knows the fiery steps that dart, 
 The forked delights of the transcendent storm. 
 
 Again, the gleam and roaring were the wit, 
 The fiery sally, the quick repartee, 
 The deep-toned laughter often born of it, 
 As if Olympians bellowed in their glee : 
 Or but the thunder rolling on from two 
 High as the heaven above the common earth 
 Of those who fear but cannot comprehend, 
 And must await, whatever may ensue, 
 The last explosion of the mighty mirth, 
 Yet hail most thankfully the tempest's end. 
 
 47 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And one high simile remains untold : 
 
 Thy sudden dart is as a piercing shaft 
 
 From Heaven that bids the guilty one behold 
 
 A flaming world within, before and aft, 
 
 While loud mysterious menaces appal. 
 
 Oh ! be the earth beneath, his soul upturned ; 
 
 His freshening tears, the raindrops from above 
 
 That mid the turmoil and the terror fall ; 
 
 The sungilt morn a sign that he has learned 
 
 Thro' threatening wrath the potency of Love. 
 
 THE QUESTIONER. 
 
 Has mortal ever lacked the power to love ? 
 ' Hope springs eternal in the human breast,' 
 But Faith is not for all_to gaze above, 
 Then turn below, and mid the mystery rest : 
 For her it is not as her looks attest- 
 The form that sways as if by breezes blown, 
 Keen yearning eyes that everything would prove, 
 The neck so query-like, the brow back thrown, 
 The note of fine interrogation in her tone. 
 
 She questions Nature-Others may accept 
 Their views who probe and peer, she never will. 
 Fixed laws, firm theories she would reject 
 As tho' in honour bound to doubt them still. 
 To her no axiom ever is, no thrill 
 
 48 
 
THE QUESTIONER 
 
 Of Truth self-evident. Your tale is told_ 
 
 She listens, and demurs with due respect ; 
 
 And did the Angel Gabriel unfold 
 
 The things of Earth, with him she would not hold. 
 
 She questions Heaven, that hardly to her mind 
 Has aught revealed ; and even the clear light 
 Of Reason or of Moral Sense misleads mankind, 
 Who do the Wrong believing it the Right. 
 Doubt is her Creed ; nay, she would question Sight : 
 The Thomas in her who the Lord should see 
 Would still be faithless ; Elymas struck blind 
 Would yet pervert the Roman Deputy, 
 And Nicodemus still ask 'how can these things be ?' 
 
 She questions Man, nor in his origin 
 Alone, and make of body, mind, and heart, 
 Life, Death, and Destiny ; for she would win 
 The Spirit-things none readily impart. 
 Men too she questions, doubtful if the part 
 Of each she knows be trustworthy and true : 
 Yet if she found one from a glance within 
 Corrupt and false-nay, from a nearer view_ 
 Would she believe it, tho' she looked him thro' 
 and thro' ? 
 
 And therein lies the charm that mantles her, 
 And wins her an affectionate regard. 
 Hope_she has much of that for all who err, 
 And never, never would she one discard- 
 
 49 4 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Hope for the helpless ; if you called her hard 
 
 A rainbow smile thro' gathering tears would come. 
 
 She hopes the best for each_a slanderer 
 
 Of self alone, to others' failings dumb, 
 
 She questions if to her Hope ever ought to come. 
 
 So one thing, even she could never doubt- 
 True Love, she has it, and in view of this 
 The Love Divine would never cast her out 
 From all that overarches the Abyss. 
 She lives in present and eternal Bliss, 
 For Faith methinks is reckoned unto such, 
 And Righteousness doth cling to the devout ; 
 Nor could a penalty of doubting touch 
 One plainly pardoned all because she loves so much. 
 
 What makes her question ? somewhat in her birth 
 Transmitted from a doubting ancestry ; 
 And wherefore her endowment ? that on Earth 
 She may win fuller Being ere she die 
 And be enlarged through all Eternity. 
 But one who will not train the gift well knows 
 That in abuse the penalty doth lie_ 
 The sad unrest, the failure of repose, 
 Mid health and strength, and most of all, when 
 life is near the close. 
 
 5° 
 
GLOW-WORMS. 
 
 They glimmer in the quiet 
 Of summer lanes by night, 
 Mid many a hedge or nigh it 
 They give a gentle light 
 Dark insects with a saving grace, 
 Akin to stars above. 
 Fair ladies of a dusky race 
 Have lit the lamp of love. 
 
 In human form I find them_ 
 Down every twilit lane : 
 They keep the hour assigned them, 
 And haply not in vain. 
 Could any lover miss the glow 
 That lights up lingering eyes ? 
 A splendour beams on him below 
 To mock the moonlit skies. 
 
 I meet them mid the city, 
 In mercy-sister's dress, 
 With shining eyes of pity, 
 And healing tenderness. 
 The torch of love in alleys vile 
 Thus glistens through the gloom ; 
 The medicine of a bright smile 
 Sheds health in many a room. 
 
 51 4 — 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 I mark them mid the duty 
 
 Of service manifold, 
 
 And watch the gentle beauty 
 
 Of maiden grace unfold : 
 
 'Twere darker in the mansion oft 
 
 But for the ministry 
 
 Of helping hand, and footstep soft, 
 
 And quick observant eye. 
 
 I note them as they mingle 
 In Fancy, Thought, and Art. 
 I love the light they kindle, 
 The charm their gifts impart. 
 Gloom clears before a woman's wit, 
 The misty fog is gone : 
 The glow-worm has her candle lit, 
 And dusky fields have shone. 
 
 Some evenings thro' the gloaming 
 The lane is sad and grey ; 
 The males as ever roaming, 
 Their mates in darkness stay : 
 Perchance for mere coquetry, or 
 To test, or simply vex ; 
 They teach bright woman's value for 
 Our unenlightened sex. 
 
 By their own glow I found them_ 
 I, a poor helpless worm. 
 52 
 
A WAYSIDE FOUNTAIN 
 
 The aureole around them 
 
 Illumes my mortal term. 
 
 And as I from the way might err 
 
 But for an insect's shine, 
 
 For aught I know they minister 
 
 To loftier lives than mine. 
 
 A WAYSIDE FOUNTAIN. 
 
 No hostel do I keep where travellers drink 
 What will inebriate and, when the fume 
 Has left the brain, impair the power to think, 
 And mar the memory-to gender gloom 
 In fair reaction ; haply not for long, 
 And not for harm, since there is ample room 
 For that, as every other kind of song ; 
 Nor those who serve it would I for a moment 
 wrong. 
 
 But rather sit I at the hot roadside, 
 And if a weary wayfarer draw near, 
 I deem it a true ministry to guide 
 His faltering footsteps to the simple cheer 
 That has sustained and gladdened my career, 
 Kind Nature's wellspring known but to the few : 
 And if a cup of but cold water clear 
 A spirit's outlook, or a heart renew, 
 Thro' me, reward I win more precious than my due ! 
 
 53 
 
THE WOOD-AVENS. 
 
 Some flowers demurely hang the head, 
 While others front the flaming sun. 
 And most a sweet aroma shed, 
 But of them all thou art not one ! 
 And yet a charm that many lack 
 When I would pass thee bids me back. 
 
 The glowing look of one surprised 
 
 When up or down the lane I walk, 
 
 As tho' a watcher scrutinized 
 
 My hidden self, and fain would talk ; 
 
 As if a spirit pent in thee 
 
 For my true welfare beckoned me. 
 
 What wouldest thou ? is it to hint 
 That golden flowers who sunward grow 
 Have hardly a diviner tint, 
 Nor have the blooms that bend below ? 
 Thy fragile form, thy paler face, 
 Are perfect in their blend of grace. 
 
 No need for perfume : better far 
 That undistracted I should gaze 
 And hear thee as I heed a star 
 Whereto my heart and eyes I raise. 
 To this calm heavenly hedgerow now 
 I downward turn-what wouldest thou ? 
 54 
 
THE WOOD-AVENS 
 
 Ah ! do I over contemplate, 
 Unduly prone to peer on high ? 
 And dost thou, ever looking straight 
 Before thee, delicately try 
 To make me mind the claim of Earth 
 On all who vaunt a loftier Birth ? 
 
 Thy whisper, if it came, might say 
 To one who threads life's sunny lane, 
 ' The golden middle be thy way, 
 The lofty and the low are vain. 
 The equipoise of Earth and Sky 
 Demands an even front and eye !' 
 
 FLOWERS ON A RAILWAY CUTTING. 
 
 Whirled quickly past I cannot tell 
 The kind of all of you, and yet 
 I know that many a favourite bell 
 Of beauty, cup, and coronet, 
 Still keep the ancient quietude, 
 However man's unrest intrude. 
 
 Pink clover, scabious, meadow-sweet, 
 Vetch, cuckoo-pint and buttercup, 
 To name a few I love to greet, 
 Windswept by us, ye look not up ! 
 Tho' I might miss the contrast shown 
 Between us, if ye smiled alone. 
 55 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 It is the contrast quiet Stars 
 Present to our unbridled Race, 
 Who shake the mortal prison bars 
 And rush in ever-quickening pace, 
 The while their silvery calm doth shame 
 The foolish ineffectual flame. 
 
 And if the cynic Orbs above 
 Gaze coldly on us so uncurbed, 
 Ye seem to scrutinize with love 
 That asks us why we are disturbed. 
 This headlong speed forbids a glance, 
 Or ye might question me perchance. 
 
 And not alone would I compare 
 Your quiet with our feverish haste. 
 The tints that charm, the hues so fair 
 That fade in beauty, shame our taste, 
 Whose forms are mantled in array 
 Oft unattractive or too gay. 
 
 By this tumultuous train are borne 
 A throng who overstudy dress, 
 Vaunt gaudy colouring, and scorn 
 The claim of natural loveliness ; 
 Spendthrifts of money, time, and health, 
 They pale beside your simple wealth- 
 
 Your simple wealth_ah ! truly wise 
 Were they to tarry for a while, 
 56 
 
UNDIVIDED 
 
 The journey done, and bend their eyes 
 To meet the welcome of your smile ; 
 And questioning, your secret learn, 
 Ere busy footsteps townward turn. 
 
 UNDIVIDED. 
 
 The Sun has two on whom his fire doth rest- 
 
 The Earth and Sea. 
 It shines on both, but each would love him best 
 
 In jealousy : 
 While Earth doth sing to him in many a tone 
 
 The Sea doth moan, 
 And with a glittering smile and half a hiss 
 
 The shingle kiss. 
 
 Veiled from sad Earth, the Sun with fitful beam 
 
 The Sea illumes. 
 With joy she swells and dances, for no gleam 
 
 Lights earthly glooms. 
 He loves the two, and both indeed are one, 
 
 If they but knew : 
 Earth doth reflect, the Sea doth glass, the Sun, 
 
 And mirror true. 
 
 Am I thy Sun ? then a twin self is lit 
 
 By golden rays_ 
 Thy form and soul, and neither will omit 
 
 A tuneful praise ; 
 57 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Not enviously, for thy heart and voice 
 Will both rejoice, 
 
 Thy spirit mirror me, and thy fond face 
 Reflect my grace. 
 
 WILLOW HERBS. 
 
 What means the half-unconscious flush 
 Wherewith ye chain the wandering eye ? 
 Does perfect Beauty need a blush 
 Her presence here to justify ? 
 The moon is pale that silvers night, 
 The evening planet coldly bright. 
 Both steal upon a dusky scene, 
 Like yours for all yon gentle green. 
 
 Yet tho' from muddy banks ye rise, 
 That line a streamlet dark and foul, 
 Your smile will win more heedless eyes 
 By reason of near Nature's scowl. 
 The pink and verdure both refresh 
 My spirit, and invite the mesh 
 Of thought Imagination weaves 
 Around fair flowers and lovely leaves. 
 
 She deems you each a modest maid 
 Who 'mid decay and squalor blooms, 
 The more divinely for the shade, 
 The brighter for surrounding glooms. 
 58 
 
WILLOW HERBS 
 
 She bids me now view burning souls 
 Who mock the earthy tide that rolls 
 Beneath them_worldly wisdom, fame, 
 Cheer, money, or whate'er the name. 
 
 She points to you, and makes me think 
 What neighbours are our best and worst 
 Hope's purest flowers blow on the brink 
 Of feelings sad, and thoughts accurst. 
 Song rises up, Art's splendour spires 
 From low resolves, or dark desires ; 
 While reveries of heavenly worth 
 Owe half their harmony to Earth. 
 
 And now she concentrates my gaze 
 On every feature of your grace, 
 And whispers : ' What a fairy maze 
 To flourish in so vile a place !' 
 No fairer than the lofty gain 
 That springs from grief and ill and pain : 
 No brighter than the bloom above 
 Repentance, of Faith, Hope and Love. 
 
 THE WOODPECKER'S CALL. 
 
 Listen ! he laughs, the green and golden King 
 With crimson crown, whose wavy flight you saw. 
 I welcome, for a harbinger of Spring, 
 His utterance, as laying down a law, 
 
 59 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Whereto bright myriads will soon conform. 
 Oh ! for the mirth of meadow, wood and lane, 
 The joyous music of the glen and grove, 
 
 The April shine and storm, 
 The happy peal that rings perpetual love, 
 Its care and rapture, its impassioned pain ! 
 
 Yes, listen ! for the laugh is not alone 
 That he is wooing, and may win his choice : 
 There is a note of triumph in the tone 
 O'er others who may not like him rejoice, 
 As of a cynic chuckling over fools ; 
 A note of scorn attempered to our ears, 
 And yet it may be not of mere contempt, 
 
 For wisdom ever schools, 
 And urges fallen folly to attempt 
 Anew, nor yield to useless doubt and fears. 
 
 Wise bird, let me be thine interpreter ! 
 For fancy hears thee in yon laughter set 
 Your prescience over ours, and we who hear 
 Are taunted with disdain of Nature's debt. 
 ' Behold us !' thou art calling, ' lovely things, 
 Too good, too beautiful to be extinct ; 
 We play the part that chains us to the scene ; 
 
 Not one remains unlinked ; 
 New crimson diadems, fresh gold and green, 
 Will blaze and glisten for millennial springs. 
 
 60 
 
MUSINGS OF AN ATLAS 
 
 But ye, besotted ones ! with nobler crowns, 
 Born Kings of Nature, primed for many an heir, 
 Sport singly oft-the one on marriage frowns, 
 The other weds not, and ye are no pair ! 
 Or else ye live, vain groom and glittering bride, 
 For fashion, fame or comfort, nor respect 
 The primal mandate to your dire disgrace. 
 
 Ye further, thro' neglect, 
 The diminution of a sovereign Race, 
 Nor wholly miss the charge of suicide !' 
 
 MUSINGS OF AN ATLAS. 
 
 Wherefore doth the world oppress me ? 
 
 Have I merited the load ? 
 Is it from just Heaven, descending 
 On a spirit all unbending 
 Doomed to suffer, vainly fleeing 
 Penalty, the weight of being ? 
 Are the things that so distress me 
 
 All the debt by Duty owed ? 
 Or can it be but a training 
 Ere the primal Bliss regaining ? 
 
 Ah ! the burden-nor one sharing 
 
 In the weight so laid on me. 
 Yet be sure thy every brother 
 Bears the same, nor could another 
 61 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Lighten thee of it, if only 
 That on him as sad and lonely 
 Room has not been left for bearing 
 
 Thine, by the Supreme Decree 
 That makes every being single, 
 Spirits sole that never mingle. 
 
 What ! a load as hard and heavy 
 
 Pressing upon everyone ? 
 Can all human souls be reeling 
 Under what they now are feeling, 
 Everyone alike_the cheerful 
 Weighted even as the tearful, 
 Each bright maiden of yon bevy, 
 
 Each fair daughter and brave son ? 
 Sunny laughter and sweet folly. 
 Do they mask but melancholy ? 
 
 Yes_be very sure the outer 
 Guise of each alone is fair. 
 He is beaming on beholders, 
 But for this, that to the shoulders 
 Has the proper load been fitted, 
 Nor a heavier one committed, 
 Tho' he be like thee a doubter, 
 
 Than his spirit frame can bear. 
 Comfort too may come from shifted 
 Burdens that are not uplifted. 
 62 
 
MUSINGS OF AN ATLAS 
 
 Ay, it is the same in measure 
 
 That each mortal must endure- 
 Just the blend of joy and sorrow. 
 This to-day, and that to-morrow ; 
 Hard awhile, it seems to soften- 
 Nay, grow tolerable often, 
 Pain returning after pleasure, 
 Care untempered by repose. 
 Sisyphus' giant boulder 
 Gone-yet back upon his shoulder. 
 
 Oh ! the froth, the foam, the bubble 
 
 On the top of human strife. 
 Man the sport of all the devils 
 In his glory, toil, and revels ! 
 Peace ! for none could now unravel, 
 Tho' thro' Time and Space he travel, 
 Aught of Earth's inwoven trouble, 
 
 One thread from the skein of Life. 
 Wait the End_the round World rolling 
 Off thee, and the great Consoling ! 
 
 « IMMEDIATELY HE PUTTETH IN 
 THE SICKLE.' 
 
 When does o'ershadowing Death 
 Descend, the close communion to dissolve 
 Of soul with body, and by yielded breath 
 The mortal problem solve ? 
 63 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 When the fine earthly mesh, 
 That caught the spirit for this life, doth fail 
 Thro' weakness of the interwoven flesh, 
 
 Behold a finished tale ! 
 
 For the environment 
 Avails no more to nourish and sustain, 
 And what thro' life suffices to cement, 
 
 Is severing the twain. 
 
 When, by some method strange, 
 As if a husk were by the kernel burst, 
 The struggling spirit wins an ampler range 
 
 Than that which caged her first. 
 
 When faculties are ripe, 
 And organs wrought for higher being swell, 
 As when the bird, full fain to move and pipe, 
 
 Breaks the imprisoning shell. 
 
 When, Earth's probation o'er, 
 The young or aged (nought but children) try 
 With or against their conscious will, to soar 
 
 Or, as we term it, die. 
 
 True_yet withal I think 
 That He who works, altho' by natural Law, 
 For His unchartered ends, doth snap the link, 
 
 And the true man withdraw. 
 64 
 
' HE PUTTETH IN THE SICKLE ' 
 
 Exactly when He sees 
 In His omniscient Wisdom, Truth, and Love, 
 The time is due, and then the spirit frees 
 
 For nobler work above. 
 
 The sickle He puts in 
 Immediately the ripened harvest comes, 
 And garnered good from fields of toil and sin 
 
 A finished life-course sums. 
 
 And some new bond, perhaps 
 And mightier means, it may be are employed 
 To lift the fallen pilgrim from the lapse, 
 
 That evil be destroyed. 
 
 AT THE MANOR GROUNDS, EXMOUTH. 
 
 I went one evening to a Garden Fete 
 Where many-coloured lamps lit up the scene, 
 While to the music of a band, till late 
 The people paced, or sat around, the green. 
 A dusky moonless night did intervene 
 Ere morning splendour charmed me with a change- 
 Bird-minstrels warbled, for the misty screen 
 Was furled, and golden sunlight shed a strange 
 Soft beauty on their brows who did the garden 
 range. 
 
 65 5 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Ah ! what a parable, methought, of Earth 
 
 As she now is, and what she is to be_ 
 
 Our light, the many-hued of little worth 
 
 Save to shew faces in apparent glee, 
 
 Oft masking discontent or misery ; 
 
 Life's music, fitful thro' the darkening years, 
 
 And hushed in night : but when the shadows flee, 
 
 Oh ! the fair glory of this • vale of tears,' 
 
 The happy sunlit brows, and the enchanted ears ! 
 
 DIVIDED EMPIRE. 
 
 They dominate us, Joy and Grief, 
 So all-embracing while they stay, 
 The one defiant of relief, 
 The other franchised of decay : 
 But lo ! forsaking us they leave 
 No sure memento of their reign ; 
 We half forgot what made us grieve, 
 Nor outcome of the joy retain. 
 
 Yet ne'er a sunbeam shines and fades 
 To leave a meadow as before, 
 And all the parching summer glades 
 Absorb the showers that earthward pour. 
 The blades a little higher spring, 
 The flowers a little more unfold, 
 Blithe insects hum, gay warblers sing, 
 O'er fresher green and purer gold. 
 66 
 
BELOVfiD BRITAIN 
 
 A fuller life may men receive, 
 More fair and tuneful thro' the joy ; 
 More apt thro' sorrow to relieve 
 What would a brother's peace destroy. 
 And Heaven, that never grieves for naught, 
 Nor sends one purposeless delight, 
 Deems heart-fertility well bought, 
 By what doth take so sure a flight. 
 
 BELOVED BRITAIN. 
 
 England, dear England, a patriot's yearning 
 Tunefully flows in the music of song ! 
 Land of my lineage, a spirit is burning 
 Both from the sense of thy right and thy wrong 
 Shall I appeal as a son to his Mother ? 
 Nay, lest due reverence fetter my tongue. 
 Rather, I claim to be bound by another 
 Link, just as fond, while demerit is sung. 
 
 Let us be lovers ! a halo be o'er thee, 
 Rapt be my vision when hymning thy worth. 
 For mid the sternest dispraise I adore thee, 
 Deeming thy beauty the fairest on earth ! 
 And as a man's adoration is tendered 
 First to his Lady-love's figure and face, 
 So be my homage now loyally rendered 
 To thine external enchantment and grace. 
 67 5—2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Where out of Paradise_nay, out of Heaven, 
 Can you find lovelier earth, shore and sea ? 
 Landscapes of Somerset, Gloucester, and Devon, 
 Curtained from some, ye are Eden to me ! 
 For a true proof of my utter devotion 
 Hear me denounce all who ruin thy charm ! 
 Why should the golden seashore and blue ocean 
 Keep all their splendour alone out of harm ? 
 
 Blind to the purpose and value of Beauty, 
 How we profane her divinest of haunts ! 
 Nurse of true Piety, handmaid of Duty, 
 Spite of man's callousness, laughter and taunts ! 
 What care the rude artisan, or rich monger, 
 Craving to build, for the trees that come down ? 
 Perish all schemes that, allaying land-hunger, 
 Leave lovely Nature, now smiling, to frown ! 
 
 Woe to the thieves of the fauna and flora ! 
 Would that in time the destruction were foiled ! 
 He were unworthy to be an adorer 
 Who tamely left her he loved to be spoiled ; 
 Or if he failed in a due admiration 
 Of the apparel her figure doth boast- 
 Truly, fair Country, a life's contemplation 
 Leaves me in doubt of the garb I like most. 
 
 Spring's tender robe, all divinely brocaded ; 
 Summer's rich garniture, ample and bright ; 
 
BELOVED BRITAIN 
 
 Autumn's thin raiment, so splendidly shaded ; 
 Winter's immaculate mantle of white- 
 All are so beautiful, each so impresses 
 One who is moody and pensive like me : 
 'Neath the sweet form, and coquetry of dresses 
 Lives the brave spirit, dear Land, that is Thee ! 
 
 That above all is what stirs and inspires me. 
 Figure and costume delight me because 
 Both never fail to set off what so fires me, 
 England, thy character, conduct and laws ! 
 Had these been worthy throughout of the others, 
 Were both thy outward and inward to chime, 
 Bliss were thy lot-but a Nation who smothers 
 Virtue for long pays the cost for a time ! 
 
 Men in the mass bear, like each human being, 
 Every result both of Evil and Good, 
 Foolish short-sightedness, prudent far-seeing, 
 Vice freely practised, temptation withstood. 
 Now, but to think of the struggle within thee 
 Ever, for happiness, riches, and power, 
 Naught but the blend of all being can win thee 
 Peace and contentment beyond a brief hour ! 
 
 Health misses her with a system one-sided ; 
 Mental and manual work should combine. 
 Spirit and flesh, if their aim be divided, 
 Strive for pre-eminence, each in its turn. 
 
 69 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 So has it been in thy bygone too greatly ; 
 Caste far too regnant, the common too low. 
 Rich to repletion, the classes till lately 
 Slighting the due of the masses below. 
 
 Nemesis comes^for the law of reaction 
 Raises the other before equipoise. 
 Toilers are up, and mid clamour and faction 
 One mighty scheme their full effort employs, 
 Fatal, I fear, to thy commerce and standing, 
 Fatal to what yields a nation true wealth- 
 Righteousness regnant, and Virtue commanding, 
 Freedom for everyone, Honour and Health. 
 
 Little ye think who this plan are promoting- 
 Dreamers who hold it will heal wrong and shame- 
 Leaders who canvass, and aid it by voting- 
 Priests who belaud it as Christian in aim- 
 Little ye think that its failure is certain, 
 Naught that opposes man's nature can last ! 
 Sleep yester evening mine eyelids did curtain 
 While a strange dream did the future forecast. 
 
 England, my love, I beheld thee forsaken 
 Largely by all that has crowned thee before ! 
 Influence, trade, and prestige had been taken 
 Far from thy borders to many a shore. 
 What was the cause ? Ah ! too truly I knew it, 
 When I confronted each figure and face ; 
 
 70 
 
BELOVED BRITAIN 
 
 Stupid and tame, too lethargic to rue it, 
 Those who but walked, all unfit for a race. 
 
 Why ? Oh ! the State now forbade competition, 
 Each had his station, due work, and full hire. 
 Well had they joined in a common petition 
 Had they not lacked effort, will, and desire. 
 Children they looked in a school where no prizes 
 Could be bestowed, and no classes were made, 
 Citizens of a poor Land each despises 
 Of the rich Climes where our commerce had strayed. 
 
 Working bees all, never storing the honey, 
 Each singing gaily on life's open flowers ; 
 Ah ! will the music survive failing money 
 When thy sure cloud of adversity lowers ? 
 Rivalry is at the root of our being, 
 Men for equality struggle in vain ; 
 All with the facts of our nature agreeing, 
 Flourish and last, but no others remain. 
 
 False be that dream of an England deserted 
 
 By the prosperity that she might win ! 
 
 True be the outlook of failure averted 
 
 Thro' timely tears for such national sin ! 
 
 For when I woke to weep o'er thy dishonour, 
 
 Sleeping again, a new vision I saw : 
 
 One, who was Thou ! crowned and sceptred, for on 
 
 her 
 Rested a calm from Truth, Order, and Law. 
 
 7i 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 One, who of falsehood and folly repenting, 
 Bravely had mended her ways ere too late ; 
 Favourite now of kind Fortune relenting, 
 Welded once more as a People and State. 
 Yes, and an Empire ! forbid the disunion 
 Of a true Whole that I worship as one ! 
 Britain, keep firm, or thou wanest, the Union 
 Linking all parts of thee under the Sun ! 
 
 And an adorer were cold who permitted 
 Free of all protest Religion to fail ; 
 England, remember the Faith that admitted 
 Into thy heart caused thy might to prevail ! 
 Never forget that thy strength as a Nation 
 Falters in Wrong, and uprises in Right ! 
 What if the lore of the new generation 
 Lapse into gloom after ages of Light ! 
 
 Hold to thy safeguards-the means of protection ! 
 None with impunity dare to slight these. 
 Worthless would be an admirer's affection 
 Who amid danger cared only to please. 
 Who that beheld a lone woman neglecting 
 Self-preservation and power of defence 
 Ought to refrain, till he found her rejecting 
 Counsels that keep her in vain impotence ? 
 
 Hence, the advisers that aim at reducing 
 Armaments needful for honour that so 
 
 72 
 
BELOVED BRITAIN 
 
 Ampler resource may be thine for producing 
 Wealth that, thou worsted, might strengthen the foe ! 
 Hither the counsellors sane who, while planning 
 Changes and schemes for the welfare of all, 
 Strengthen thy force, nor by failure in manning 
 Court the disasters that herald a fall ! 
 
 Ay, and a suitor will watch all who proffer 
 Friendship to her who has won his regard : 
 Will he not warn her betimes if they offer 
 Terms that true wisdom would bid her discard ? 
 Ah ! and above the most hopeful alliance 
 Made with the richest and mightiest friend, 
 Is the sure outcome of firm self-reliance, 
 Quick to discern, and alert to defend. 
 
 Land of my Fathers, let none who may ponder 
 Aught of my questioning, fear, or regret, 
 Doubt that I daily regard thee with fonder 
 Feelings and effort to pay Duty's debt ! 
 Others may turn a deaf ear to thine orders ; 
 I to thy mandates and laws would be true. 
 Many are buoyant when quitting thy borders, 
 I almost tearfully bid thee adieu ! 
 
 Straining sad eyes as thy shore becomes dimmer ; 
 Lingering o'er the farewell, and perchance 
 Feigning a sunlit chalk cliff that may glimmer 
 Thy waving handkerchief in my last glance ; 
 
 73 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Lover-like, sure that the coast I am quitting 
 Vastly excels that for which I am bound : 
 Envious of the seagulls that now flitting 
 Over me, soon on thy sands may be found : 
 
 Flushing when foreigners trumpet thy praises ; 
 Firing to hear thee belittled or blamed ; 
 Never of one of thy aspects, or phases, 
 Customs, traditions, or methods, ashamed : 
 Proud of thee just as thou art, the while owning 
 Much to well-wishers that now may retard 
 Progress and glory to come, or bemoaning 
 All that withholds thee from others' regard. 
 
 Then, lovely Clime, when my exile was over 
 How have I thrilled to the thought of return ! 
 Never for long could I live as a rover, 
 And to be roving from thee bade me burn- 
 Burn if in absence I ever have slighted 
 Thee, my dear Land, or thy now nearing charms- 
 Burn with the flame of a lover delighted 
 To be reclasped in thy beckoning arms ! 
 
 A SPRING IMAGINATION. 
 
 The flowers are laughing in the lane, 
 That knew an autumn death ; 
 
 The summer birds are back again 
 Who fled at winter's breath ; 
 
 74 
 
A SPRING IMAGINATION 
 
 The burnished butterflies, that crept 
 Within a hidden grave and slept, 
 Have to the Paschal sunshine leapt, 
 And smiling Nature saith, 
 
 c They star the lovely scene anew, 
 
 The plant, the bird, the fly- 
 All reappear, and why not you, 
 
 Who, fading, seem to die ? 
 Your Heaven is haply this fair Earth 
 More perfect, and of nobler worth, 
 By reason of your higher birth, 
 Your loftier destiny. 
 
 Your spirit makes you different 
 From these terrestrial things ; 
 
 They, pure and bright, need no ascent 
 Thro' their returning springs ; 
 
 But ye mid cycling ebb and flow, 
 
 Autumnal dark and vernal glow, 
 
 May gradually feel and know 
 The best that Being brings- 
 
 May know, and thro' a finer form, 
 
 A heart made purer, feel 
 That what doth now dark Earth deform 
 
 Is but Eternal weal- 
 That self transfigured, pain and ill 
 May seem a higher pleasure's thrill, 
 75 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Here masked in sorrow's mantle till 
 Your mortal wrong it heal. 
 
 Death in returning round will seem 
 
 The donning of new dress, 
 The sweet upstarting from a dream 
 
 To truer loveliness. 
 Now everything doth keep the laws 
 Of ebb and flow without a pause, 
 Or sleep and wakefulness, because 
 
 You this should rightly guess. 
 
 The moonlit night of sunset born 
 
 Doth bring refreshing rest, 
 The golden light of day at morn, 
 
 Activity and zest ; 
 So in the round of human fate 
 Repose and labour alternate. 
 The seasons that now circulate 
 
 Due Life and Death attest. 
 
 Unseen by all in lower guise 
 
 The holy spirits spire, 
 More pure and loving as they rise, 
 
 Less held by vain desire. 
 Earth-links then snapped, they soar to probe 
 The mystery of many a globe- 
 Nay, every one, in fitting robe 
 
 Its secrets to acquire.' 
 76 
 
IN SANCTUARY 
 
 So Nature said-or only seemed, 
 It might have been, to say : 
 
 Perchance I fell asleep and dreamed, 
 While on the grass I lay. 
 
 O waving palms, O patient eyes, 
 
 Of trees and flowers, ye hypnotize ! 
 
 Or did the birds and butterflies 
 Lead Fancy half astray ? 
 
 IN SANCTUARY. 
 
 They nestle in God's Acre; 
 
 Each feathered chorister 
 
 Trills anthems to his Maker, 
 
 As Beauty's minister. 
 
 The blackbird, song and missel thrush, 
 
 Hedge-sparrow, linnet too, 
 
 Have woven homes in many a bush, 
 
 A cypress, fir, and yew. 
 
 Tho Priests within the Building 
 Embroider words Divine, 
 Let all refrain from gilding 
 The Lily near the Shrine, 
 The burnished butterflies that flit 
 Around the flowers of May, 
 The warblers with their mates that sit 
 So meekly night and day. 
 77 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The rich and poor are meeting 
 
 Within the Temple near ; 
 
 The Lord of all is greeting 
 
 Their hearts with holy cheer. 
 
 The happy things that stay without, 
 
 Yet share the common joy, 
 
 Are worshipping, I cannot doubt, 
 
 Whatever their employ. 
 
 Let each repeat the story, 
 
 In accents all its own, 
 
 Of mingled grace and glory 
 
 From blossom, bird, or stone. 
 
 For spirits who ere long will leave 
 
 Unedified and chill, 
 
 Or frivolous, or prone to grieve, 
 
 To such a tale may thrill. 
 
 The man who mocks a preacher 
 Of the one Fatherhood 
 May mark the patient teacher 
 That tends a callow brood : 
 While she who scorns Eternal wings, 
 And bliss in Heavenly bowers, 
 May mind the soaring lark that sings, 
 The lovely churchyard flowers. 
 
 Away, ye rude profaners, 
 From this fair sacred Plot ! 
 78 
 
IN SANCTUARY 
 
 None robbing it are gainers 
 
 In comfort, wealth or lot. 
 
 Who spoils one insect, flower, or nest 
 
 May know a fearful loss, 
 
 And share his destiny unblest 
 
 ' Who shot the albatross,' 
 
 And more perchance are listening, 
 Some waiting to be wed, 
 The sponsors at a christening, 
 The mourners for the dead. 
 The music that now meets their ears, 
 The silent bells that bloom, 
 The chanters, waken joy or tears, 
 By Altar, Font, or Tomb. 
 
 And haply the Departed, 
 Thro' creature ministry, 
 Thus heal the broken-hearted, 
 The joyful, glorify. 
 Avaunt, ye desecrators ! dread 
 Lest, lingering too long, 
 Some brooding spirit of the dead 
 Avenge the ruthless wrong ! 
 
 79 
 
A QUESTION ANSWERED. 
 
 Is life worth living ? This 
 One asked me yesterday, 
 One all untouched by woe, 
 And but a boy at play. 
 The tone belied the question, so 
 I begged, on the behalf of bliss, 
 A brief delay. 
 
 Ere I the answer give 
 'Twere well to watch, and weigh 
 What all around me seem 
 To think and feel, for they 
 (Albeit only in my dream) 
 The worth of Life and how to live 
 Perchance display. 
 
 I heard a song-thrush pipe 
 A loud triumphant lay, 
 More jubilant at morn and eve 
 Than mid the golden day. 
 Not for a moment did he grieve, 
 And so his music seemed the type 
 Of hopeful 'Yea.' 
 
 I watched a weak horse draw 
 Loads up a weary way. 
 Enslaved and beaten, he 
 His lord could but obey. 
 80 
 
A QUESTION ANSWERED 
 
 That living death he could not flee, 
 And in his misery I saw 
 The hopeless ' Nay.' 
 
 I mark a pansy shake 
 Her head both grave and gay. 
 At noon the dewy tears 
 Of dawn are wiped away ; 
 At dusk the weeping reappears. 
 Her twofold attitude I take 
 For this, ' Yea, nay.' 
 
 I noted well a man 
 Whose morn was sunlit grey, 
 With bright unshadowed noon, 
 Yet eve without hope's ray, 
 Like thrush and pansy first, but soon 
 The horse, his double record ran_ 
 ' Yea yea, Nay nay.' 
 
 I faced the boundless Sky 
 To watch what God would say. 
 The morn was rosy red, 
 Noon's glory would not stay ; 
 But thro' a thunderstorm He said, 
 In a soft Rainbow by-and-by 
 The endless ' Yea.' 
 
 81 
 
TO A THISTLE. 
 
 An emblem thou of sin, 
 
 So specious, yet so sharp ! 
 
 Tho' Scotland might begin 
 
 At that to fume and carp : 
 All praise to her that, knowing all 
 The tale and outcome of the Fall, 
 She puts thee on a pedestal 
 As high as Erin's harp ! 
 
 Fit symbol of the Curse, 
 The beads are on their brow 
 Who labour to disperse 
 Thy throng by spade or plough : 
 But fitter to my mind because 
 The breach of Truth and Beauty's laws 
 So blinds them that they do not pause 
 Thy glory to avow ! 
 
 Thrice cursed he who deems 
 Thy majesty a weed, 
 Who, gazing on thee, dreams 
 Of comfort, gold or greed ; 
 For such an one is more than blind, 
 A film is on his heart and mind : 
 Redemption can he only find 
 If grace his sin exceeds. 
 
TO A THISTLE 
 
 Enough of humour ! for 
 
 Thy dignity I sing; 
 
 Robed as an Emperor, 
 
 High as a haughty King ; 
 In stately guise to brightly blow, 
 Till ripeness crown thee with the snow 
 Of Time, when off thy plumes will go 
 
 On Death's benignant wing ! 
 
 Then naught of thee, alas ! 
 
 Before another year ; 
 
 But if a Scotchman pass 
 
 And hold thee very dear, 
 That finish of thee would be best ; 
 More glorious for thee to rest, 
 An honoured badge upon his breast 
 
 Than bloom unvalued here ! 
 
 DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN. 
 
 I sit with face toward the orient sky 
 
 In the calm twilight of the coming Day, 
 And watch the darkness gradually die 
 
 As stains of roseate beauty tint the grey. 
 Will they but linger for a little while 
 
 And melt into the opulence of Morn, 
 As tho' the travailing night would faintly smile 
 
 Before she die upon a Day newborn- 
 83 6 — 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Prophetic of the glory that will grow, 
 
 However shade doth alternate with light, 
 Into the splendour of unclouded glow, 
 
 A golden Sunrise, beautiful and bright ? 
 Or are yon rosy lines the prelude pink 
 
 Of a wild ruddiness that doth foretell 
 Tempestuous weather ? Are we on the brink 
 
 Of gloom, and wind, and wet ? Ah! who can tell ? 
 
 The Dawn is breaking_that alone is plain : 
 
 The Sun is climbing up the curtained stairs. 
 What if, when he appears, a hurricane 
 
 Be in his look, so fearfully he glares, 
 I dare to deem that I am weather-wise ! 
 
 The faith, of observation born, I hold, 
 That brightness fitly robes the Earth and Skies, 
 
 Their proper garb is woven of pure gold. 
 
 Mortality's own emblem is a shroud, 
 
 And men are made for Life, tho' transient Death 
 Doth seem to wrap their being in a cloud 
 
 Which melting leaves them with Diviner breath. 
 Nor think that 1 here wander from my theme, 
 
 My atmospheric outlook on the Dawn ! 
 A Parable it is of our sad dream 
 
 Of drowsy darkness stealthily withdrawn ; 
 
 And when I muse thus doubtfully on what 
 Is breaking on us, be it fine or wet, 
 
DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 I do but question if our human lot 
 
 Improve from what The Future may beget, 
 Improve immediately_for I am sure 
 
 That, as the foulest weather clears at last, 
 Impending troubles will at length enure 
 
 To final glow, whatever the forecast- 
 That not we English only, but Mankind, 
 
 Ere even gradual progress shall efface 
 What birth has wrought, and infancy defined, 
 
 The private country, kith and kin, and race, 
 In the far Future holding intercourse 
 
 With planetary peoples (who can tell ?) 
 By virtue of a strange magnetic force, 
 
 Or some ere long to be discovered spell- 
 That all Humanity-victorious 
 
 O'er gloom and mortal darkness in the end, 
 Shall reign in radiance, the more glorious 
 
 For what did oft calamity portend ; 
 As thro' yon doubtful Dawn the Sunrise comes 
 
 To prophecy, whate'er at first it bring, 
 A Noonday benison from Him who sums 
 
 Harmoniously the worth of everything. 
 
 I. 
 
 This first, I can but think, 
 May into dull prophetic redness turn 
 The tender trembling pink, 
 That heralds the delightful golden shine 
 85 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 For which the morning- watchers pine, 
 And all mankind doth yearn_ 
 This, that we Men are so content to sink 
 Below the human dignity, 
 And live too largely for the life that is, 
 Too little for the life that is to be. 
 The children's perquisite alone is this, 
 To care for naught but present joy ; 
 But more we look for from the budding boy, 
 "Who in his tutelage must turn away 
 From pleasant but unprofitable play, 
 To covet with admiring eyes 
 School dignity and the potential prize. 
 And ripened manhood_Ah ! what perils lurk 
 Both in perpetual play and constant work! 
 The many slave, with labour as no foil 
 To set off a bright hope of higher rest. 
 Some but amuse themselves, and shun the toil 
 Bereft of which, we miss the human best- 
 The human best attained alone in this, 
 That body and spirit play the fitting part 
 In the activities that stand for bliss. 
 The spirit dominant, the body tame, 
 Where that is so, farewell to sin and shame ! 
 Until it be, why even earthly good 
 Remains unwon, the spirit pines for food, 
 And happiness at best is but a name. 
 And modern men, to view them in the mass, 
 
 86 
 
DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 Whatever be their social state or class, 
 Are hardly happy_they forbear to school 
 Their appetites and passions : tyrant Sense 
 Usurps the throne, the Spirit does not rule, 
 However she dispute her impotence. 
 And is it likely that she, trodden down 
 And so kept under, will the power regain 
 And wear the robe imperial again, 
 She who is parting with her ancient aid, 
 Her Heaven half clouded over, Faith decayed, 
 And Hope's bright rainbow clearly on the wane ? 
 So for the present life men toil or play, 
 And the high spirit-things are losing hold 
 In competition with amusement, comfort, ease, 
 Rank, standing, all that may be bought by gold. 
 What room for them, if crowded out by these ? 
 Will Love long last if Faith and Hope decay ? 
 Will lofty Honour and true Virtue stay? 
 Will men continue patriots ? because 
 Who love their country, love their Race the most, 
 And vaunt Mankind when of their Land they boast. 
 Are men more likely to keep human laws 
 Reft of the Heavenly sanctions of the Past ? 
 And will ' the Family ' much longer last? 
 The Marriage tie more easily dissolved, Y 
 The problem of ' the Children ' must be sc . ,d. 
 Unfathered or unmothered, which ? or will 
 A yearning State parental dues fulfil ? 
 
 87 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And yet, and yet, when all, and more, is said, 
 The human Dawn I view without despair ! 
 Some tokens are there of a morning fair ; 
 No sign is there as yet of hopeless red ; 
 My faith in Man's true nature is not gone. 
 The darkness of his Heaven may roll aside, 
 Reviving aids uplift him from the gloom ; 
 And if the Body's arrogance subside, 
 The Spirit will her royalty resume. 
 
 II. 
 
 Bleak was your lot indeed, 
 Sweet Sisters, in the gloomy night 
 With the false, cruel Creed 
 Impressed upon you by our lordly clan, 
 So oft repeated, 'I believe in Man!' 
 In Man- while she who brought him to the light 
 And fed and reared him was in darkness left, 
 The darkness of a living death, 
 Of means and methods and the very will bereft, 
 To play her part in the fair human plan. 
 But, lo ! the blackness softened into grey, 
 A grey most melancholy, ere the breath 
 Of night departing bade it faintly bloom. 
 The sadness vanished then : for very long 
 Your life in Christendom has not been gloom. 
 To selfish Man no more belong 
 Your form, and fate, and fortunes ; ye are now, 
 88 
 
DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 E'en in the silken fetter of the Vow, 
 Your own, not his ; and ye are fitly trained, 
 And shape your life-career, as those unchained 
 By any harder or more galling bond 
 Than claims of piety, and youth, and sex ; 
 The gentle feeling, or affection fond, 
 Forbidding you, no more indeed than men, 
 Nor even your own highest self, to vex 
 Your kind, and shame or wrong 
 The tastes and customs of the social throng. 
 Be this affirmed most truly then, 
 A sanguine rose doth now divinely tinge 
 Your tender softened grey ! 
 Oh ! that ye fully felt what can but hinge, 
 Of a tumultuous or tranquil day, 
 Upon your prudence or unwisdom_nay, 
 Your vice or virtue, happiness or woe ! 
 The hopeful pink, what ought it to foretell, 
 The delicate celestial glow 
 That issues in a world-enlightening spell ? 
 A rule Divine, ' the last shall be the first,' 
 A law, { the elder shall the younger serve '_ 
 These claim fulfilment : would ye have it so ? 
 Thus only can it be, for aught beside, 
 Nature and Grace forbid-' the first,' because 
 The best and most unselfish ; for the worst 
 Are rude, and loveless, and excel in pride. 
 That could ye not be, and the while observe 
 
 89 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Your sex's instincts and unchanging laws. 
 Man, Nature's elder, if he prize your worth, 
 By homage to your weakness, can alone 
 Fulfil your right as younger, because birth 
 And human rearing must remain with you. 
 In his devotion ye receive your due, 
 And thus ye now may come into your own. 
 If Woman to herself will be but true, 
 In what a blaze of glory she may live ! 
 But see ! she doth not take what he can give : 
 To be superior in much, she scorns, 
 And that in all, she is not equal, mourns. 
 From her cold heart fast fades the loving flush, 
 From her bold countenance the charming blush. 
 Not thus it is as yet with all, or most, 
 But with, alas ! the noticeable host. 
 Your many rights be given you, votes, degrees, 
 An ample opening within the reach 
 Of all preferring toil to ease- 
 Full play and a fair field 
 For every aspirant to fame, and each 
 Who hungers for what any of them yield ! 
 Our equals_nay, our rivals_be in these, 
 But not in modes and manners, not in talk, 
 Not in the garb ye wear, the way ye walk, 
 Not, above all, in the uncovered head ! 
 Would ye thus vaunt identity with men, 
 Or so disclaim inferiority, 
 
 90 
 
DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 Remembering what an Apostle said 
 
 To prove that what was Woman's province then 
 
 No longer holds ? Oh, if ye did but see 
 
 That we abhor the masculine in you, 
 
 As ye would scorn in us the feminine, 
 
 Were we unwise enough to ape your ways ! 
 
 Give ye your womanhood her due : 
 
 Be once again your charming selves and shine, 
 
 And we adoringly will gaze ! 
 
 Be maidens modest, gentle, loyal, 
 
 Be matrons, homely, helpful, good, 
 
 And our admiring brotherhood, 
 
 And all within us of the royal, 
 
 Will queen you, each upon her throne ; 
 
 While by your sweet example shown, 
 
 And quiet yet most potent influence, 
 
 We play a better part, and gladly stand 
 
 Your brave circumference- 
 
 A glory ye to our fair Land, 
 
 And we her strong defence ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Then Children ere the daylight shines 
 Are as the many little lines, 
 The tiny specks of colour that portend, 
 Failing the healthy pink, a troubled morn : 
 Of them combined dull ruddiness is born ; 
 Wet, gloom, and hurricane are in their blend. 
 
 91 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The children of to-day who can behold 
 With a sure forecast of meridian gold ? 
 The many so unchild-like, who can see 
 Without foreboding ? the precocity, 
 The forced heart-flowers, the hothouse mental 
 
 growth 
 That alternates with ease and sloth, 
 The waning reverence, the tone and look 
 Of independence and self-will, 
 The growing disrespect that cannot brook 
 Reproof from elders_surely none discern 
 These stormy tokens without grave concern ! 
 Ah! why the wrong, and whence the threatened ill ? 
 In waning discipline, and home neglect, 
 Behold the evil root ! 
 
 What might be blooms of beauty are but weeds, 
 And he who human nature truly reads 
 Predicts the hardly evitable fruit- 
 Yes c hardly,' be it said, for if in time 
 Parents awake in due paternal might 
 And kind maternal, sympathetic rule, 
 And their example and firm influence chime 
 In sweet home music, it will gently school 
 The young emotions, train the rebel mind, 
 And curb and tutor the impulsive heart. 
 Short-sighted Parents, be no more purblind ! 
 The hour so critical, shall it depart, 
 And on irrevocable wings bear off 
 
 92 
 
DOUBTFUL STREAKS OF DAWN 
 
 Hopes of due healing which, if unfulfilled, 
 Will whip you sharply with a lifelong scourge, 
 And which, when your indulgences are stilled, 
 Must mock posterity with the hard taunt 
 Of ' might have been '? Oh, be that cruel scoff 
 Unuttered ! To this needful duty urge 
 Your utmost powers ! Spur on your energies, 
 Nor let one claim of toil, or pleasure, daunt 
 The vow that ere too late ye will be wise ! 
 Fathers ! more time from the pursuit of wealth, 
 More leisure from the office, shop or mart, 
 Steal for your children's welfare, training, health ; 
 Companion with them, share the task and game, 
 And richer will ye grow in mind and heart. 
 Mothers! be far from you the cruel shame 
 Of loving pleasure better than your home, 
 Your offspring less than fashion and display ! 
 That Gilgal of reproach be rolled away ! 
 And every soul committed to your care 
 Regard as a new land to be explored, 
 A clime to linger in, a country fair 
 That should be colonized without delay, 
 A region peopled with pure emigrants, 
 A garden for sweet delicate blossoms, where 
 Weeds, thorns and thistles will most surely grow 
 Unless you toil that it shall not be so ! 
 Strive, Parents all ! that with the heritage 
 Of being ye hand down ye may transmit 
 
 93 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The birthright of full health, trained faculty, 
 
 And tutored power, that so the coming age, 
 
 The rising generation may be fit 
 
 To bear the high responsibility, 
 
 The burdens weightier and more sublime, 
 
 The nobler cares, that surely will engage 
 
 Those who succeed you in the march of Time. 
 
 AFTER SUNDOWN. 
 
 The sunset of a golden day 
 
 Had died in shadowy mist, but soon, 
 As if a ghost from out the grey 
 
 Did steal, appeared the saintly moon. 
 
 The heart's blue heaven at crimson eve 
 Is shadowed oft by tearful mist : 
 
 The sun that warms its world may leave 
 A form unclasped, a brow unkissed. 
 
 So has it been, and after-life 
 
 Were clouded o'er but for the dream 
 That a pale face above the strife 
 
 Rose on the slumberer to beam. 
 
 Joy has his day and fair decline, 
 
 And then how dark would be the night, 
 Did no pure phantom pleasure shine 
 
 To silver it with tender light ! 
 94 
 
IMPASSIONED 
 
 Hot Passion's post-meridian rays 
 Might spend the final fire in gloom, 
 
 Were not calm Love from the warm haze 
 Enthroned on high to take his room. 
 
 And deem not, tho' life's sunset die 
 In darkness, Being is quite done ! 
 
 A spirit moon may gleam on high 
 With light reflected from that sun. 
 
 IMPASSIONED. 
 
 There is a sea that answers to the spell 
 
 Whereof I tell. 
 Its moods of beauty, be it grey or blue, 
 
 Are past my view. 
 Yet if its tide be at the ebb or flow, 
 And placid or tempestuous, I know, 
 It is thy heart now troubled, and now clear, 
 
 From doubt and fear ! 
 
 There is a wind which sweeping o'er the main 
 
 May end in rain- 
 Tumultuous, and yet in sunshine oft 
 
 Divinely soft— 
 The passion that from every quarter blows 
 To stir thee up, to ruffle thy repose 
 With foamy rainbows, and with frequent wrecks 
 
 Thy calm to vex. 
 95 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 There is a sound to tell me if that deep 
 
 Smile, sigh, or weep : 
 Not like the Ocean's melancholy tone 
 
 A constant moan. 
 Its note, triumphant now, reveals thee glad ; 
 Now tender, proves thee pensive, maybe sad. 
 That subtle sound, which prompts me to rejoice, 
 
 Is thy dear voice! 
 
 GARLIC MUSTARD. 
 
 Wonderful names are conferred on the christened! 
 
 Who was the sponsor that libelled you so ? 
 Who ? when with Heaven's holy dewdrops ye 
 glistened, 
 
 Gazing with countenance whiter than snow ? 
 
 Who ? when your mantle of green was so tender, 
 Looking diviner than all that had blown. 
 
 Someone, perchance, who preferring a slender 
 Blossom beneath would not leave you alone. 
 
 Someone (ah, there was the mischief I) who spoiling 
 Half your divinity was not content, 
 
 Save (like all robbers of virtue) by soiling 
 
 Name and fair fame in condemning your scent. 
 96 
 
GARLIC MUSTARD 
 
 If, as I own, an aroma doth linger 
 
 Round you when broken, more pungent than 
 sweet, 
 'Tis but a ground for withdrawing the finger 
 
 Ready to ruin a joy so complete ; 
 
 Ay, so complete ! Let me right you by praising 
 
 All that bewitches me every March morn- 
 Stalks by the thousand beside me upraising 
 Faces as pure as the bloom on the thorn : 
 
 Beauties beseeming the innocent brightness 
 
 Round the first peep of new life in the spring ; 
 
 Graces befitting the delicate whiteness 
 Proper to all that is soon on the wing. 
 
 Soon-ah ! too quickly it passes, the glory 
 Manifold in the dark lane of my life. 
 
 Sturdy like you it may look, but its story 
 Ends, and full oft amid tempest and strife. 
 
 Ah ! for first love, spotless thought, and fine feeling, 
 Stainless as you they depart with the prime, 
 
 Yet mid their exodus graces are stealing 
 
 Forth to relieve them, each fresh in its time. 
 
 What tho' ere Winter ye seem to have perished 
 Memory presses Delight to remain ! 
 
 E'en amid whirlwind and snow are ye cherished, 
 And a new Spring calls you back to the lane 
 97 7 
 
ALTERED, YET THE SAME. 
 
 How changed are many places 
 
 1 sojourned in of old ! 
 
 Now wearing all the graces 
 
 In our vain story told, 
 
 When poor plebeians newly rich 
 
 Assume patrician modes, 
 
 And wear a false refinement which, 
 
 Contempt and shame forbodes. 
 
 But hold ! before I say it 
 Of places, let me pause- 
 Man's humour, all obey it, 
 And none dispute his laws : 
 'Tis his vulgarity alone 
 That robs them of their charm, 
 And adds road, frontage, brick or stone 
 To cottage, field, and farm. 
 
 And when the pauper rises 
 His spirit waxes oft, 
 And hence the vain disguises 
 The airs and graces soft : 
 The spirit of my haunts of yore 
 Is very Nature's, so 
 The all that I beheld before 
 Retains the ancient glow. 
 98 
 
ALTERED, YET THE SAME 
 
 The change, if much be altered, 
 Is less in her than me. 
 Yet who has never faltered 
 A former home to see? 
 Who notes the very verdant sod 
 In strife with Beauty's reign, 
 Without a whispered ' Ichabod !' 
 However much remain ? 
 
 Because the best is left me_ 
 
 The lanes and fields, beside 
 
 What spoilers have bereft me 
 
 Of, and other joys, abide. 
 
 Blue seas that golden beaches line, 
 
 And pink horizons bound, 
 
 Bright suns that glow, and moons that shine 
 
 And stars that peep around. 
 
 THE GROWTH OF CHARACTER. 
 
 At first far off I viewed them, some 
 Fair maidens that 1 know- 
 As flowering trees, pear, cherry, plum, 
 All rivals of the snow. 
 
 Then more within my mental reach 
 They come, and one perceives 
 The lovely feminine in each 
 Diverse as differing leaves. 
 
 99 7 — 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 And nearer now, since fully ripe, 
 The womanhood I see 
 Presents as personal a type 
 As fruit on every tree. 
 
 No more do I misread them now 
 Than I confound the yield 
 That clusters on each autumn bough 
 In orchard, grove, or field. 
 
 HINTS OF A HEREAFTER. 
 
 Ah ! the fretful yearning 
 
 For Joy with the rainbow wings 
 
 Ah ! the sad returning 
 
 To sweet unpermitted things. 
 
 Are they but the token 
 
 Of what is within us all, 
 
 That points to a broken 
 
 Restraint, and a shattered thrall ? 
 
 Oh ! the empty longing 
 For love, that is felt by some, 
 And their cruel wronging 
 To whom it will never come. 
 Yet below, they witness 
 To ampler regard above, 
 And further the fitness 
 For truer and endless love. 
 
 100 
 
BLACK HOREHOUND 
 
 Are the care and worry 
 That melt into mocking mirth, 
 And the hope and hurry- 
 To view the untravelled Earth, 
 But the hidden striving 
 For that which at last will be- 
 Too slow in arriving, 
 A spirit at large and free ? 
 
 BLACK HOREHOUND. 
 
 Come Fancy ! weave a fairy spell 
 
 Around a lowly wayside plant 
 
 That, spite of name and taste and smell, 
 
 My sense and spirit doth enchant, 
 
 If only for the lilac flower 
 
 Whose beauty wields a winning power, 
 
 But charms not everybody whom 
 Less delicate delights attract. 
 Tho' herbalists design its doom 
 A healing virtue to extract, 
 Few Nature-lovers mind its grace, 
 And hedgers sweep its growing-place. 
 
 Yet do not think it strange that I 
 Now reckon it deserves an ode ! 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Appreciative hearts pass by 
 True worth as often on life's road, 
 With no external grace perchance 
 To captivate the casual glance. 
 
 The spirit's flower, the lovely show 
 Of the fair inner man is missed, 
 And Heaven's pure witness left to go 
 With heart unwarmed, and face unkissed. 
 The world he heals with bitter balm 
 Uplifts, when he is dead, a psalm. 
 
 But thee alive I celebrate, 
 
 And deem the hue the heedless scorns 
 
 A royal robe, or in thy fate, 
 
 The pall that levelled worth adorns. 
 
 Such ministry in life and death 
 
 Claims music from my heart and breath. 
 
 TO SLEEPERS. 
 
 Awake, Awake! the morning call, 
 The voice from many a mouth in Spring ; 
 From few, when evening shadows fall, 
 Or Autumn mantles everything. 
 O happy heart, O joyful tongue ! 
 What need for you to hear or cry? 
 
 102 
 
TO SLEEPERS 
 
 In Winter be the summons sung 
 When Man and Nature sleeping lie ! 
 
 The dismal day of frost or wet 
 
 When all is wrapped in gloomy calm 
 
 That sweetly paid the summer debt 
 
 Of motion, ecstasy, and psalm. 
 
 The spirit's Winter "ofnif ce lips, 
 
 Of drowsy feeling, of dufl thought, 
 
 When Doubt or Death's rude whirlwind strips 
 
 The beauty off some dear support. 
 
 Sound the reveille loudly then, 
 Ye bards, and heralds of the morn ! 
 Remind the sleepers they are men 
 And wipe the tears from the forlorn ! 
 Bright Manhood from the dark relief 
 Of Nature rise ! nor cower and quake. 
 Gay Spring disturbs your wintry grief, 
 Joy dawns anew, Awake, Awake ! 
 
 IDEAL LOVE. 
 
 In a Clime pre-natal 
 Conceived, it is born on Earth, 
 On a moment fatal, 
 In the flash of a mutual worth. 
 103 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The form and the features 
 Are never without a power 
 To charm the vain creatures 
 Of Time for a rapturous hour. 
 
 But the spirit singles, 
 Nor only for fleeting grace. 
 As she never mingles 
 Because of mere form and face, 
 But for that unending 
 As her everlasting life, 
 Which oft before blending 
 Were hid but for lovers' strife. 
 
 Tho' the minds agree not, 
 Or what were the charm of speech ? 
 And the other see not 
 The vision that tutors each, 
 Yet the hearts are beating 
 Together in tune and time, 
 And the two, completing 
 Themselves, will divinely chime. 
 
 Oh ! the glory rising 
 From Earth on a pair like this, 
 And the rapt surmising 
 That Heaven adds a purer bliss. 
 104 
 
IN THE NURSERY 
 
 Lo ! a music meets them 
 More true than fair Eden told, 
 And some Angel greets them 
 With hymns from a harp of gold ! 
 
 IN THE NURSERY. 
 
 Why art thou cross and sad 
 
 Stealing from play, 
 Who hast been wholly glad 
 
 Thro' the bright day? 
 Joy has swift wings unfurled ? 
 Hope to the dust is hurled ? 
 Beauty has fled the world? 
 
 Which is it, pray? 
 
 If it be ruin wrought 
 
 On a new toy, 
 Be the offender sought, 
 
 Mischievous boy ! 
 Curtained, a sunbeam glooms 
 Faces, and hearts, and rooms : 
 Uncloaked it re-illumes 
 
 With glistening joy. 
 
 Or one of that sweet sex 
 May have done this, 
 105 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 That strewed bright Earth with wrecks 
 
 Of Nursery Bliss ! 
 Still, the fair Moon alone 
 Veiled on her heavenly throne 
 Should darken look and tone, 
 
 Not a sly Miss ! 
 
 Or perhaps both have blent, 
 
 And in rude fun, 
 May be, or accident 
 
 This has been done. 
 Yet will the shadowed Stars 
 Smile, even ruddy Mars, 
 On wave-washed broken spars : 
 
 Shine thou as one ! 
 
 Hear my advice ! Cheer up, 
 
 Question, make sure ! 
 Ere the offenders sup, 
 
 Stand by the door ! 
 Pardon the boy, if brave ; 
 Kiss the girl till she crave 
 Pardon-and then behave 
 
 Just as before ! 
 
 1 06 
 
THE WOOD-BETONY. 
 
 One of a clan whose bright blossoms remind me 
 Both of a dragon and feminine face, 
 Thou, rosy witch, hast a charm that can blind me 
 To the grim look on thy beautiful race ! 
 
 Long have I lovingly studied their story, 
 Ignorant even, till now, of thy name ! 
 Thou, unobtrusive and meek, to thy glory 
 I, unattracted by thee, to my shame. 
 
 Dragon-like, no ! fairy faces are smiling. 
 See not a profile toward me is turned ! 
 Naught but a bevy of charmers beguiling 
 Languor with laughter has fancy discerned. 
 
 Well might I say, if thy tint were the flushing 
 Of an unnoticed one watching for long, 
 1 Be not confused, it is I should be blushing, 
 I, who have shunned thy enchantment so long.' 
 
 But 'tis a permanent hue, nor I reckon 
 Art thou dishonoured by treating it so. 
 Vain to imagine thee trying to beckon 
 Thus the unheeding to gaze on thy glow ! 
 
 Be but thyself, unadorned by mere seeming, 
 Delicate blooms in the tenderest pink 
 Nature could match with thy verdure, all dreaming 
 In a cool sylvan retreat-and a link, 
 
 J07 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Yes, a true link in the chain wherewith Beauty 
 Circles the world in her summer array : 
 Ay, and a witness perennial to Duty 
 Steadfast in brightness, and brave in decay. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 
 OF DEATH. 
 
 Behold it on this tearful Earth of ours, 
 
 The playground of dark Powers, 
 At Autumn's fiery fall, 
 
 When the enchanting hues that brighten all 
 
 The landscape wither into Beauty's pall, 
 Ere Winter's frosty breath 
 
 Have made the Summer glen a vale of dusky Death ! 
 
 Behold it in the all-reviving Spring 
 
 That wakens everything 
 
 To music, call, or cry ! 
 O'ershadowing beast, reptile, bird, and fly, 
 Is some dark shape for whom it has to die, 
 
 Which in its turn perchance 
 Man kills for food or sport, in Death's untiring dance. 
 
 Behold it, soon enough, when in his round 
 Thine own sure place is found, 
 In the decay and pain 
 
 That prove thy form the subject of his reign ! 
 
 108 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH 
 
 Yet know he may be but a shadow vain ! 
 
 The dread Reality 
 The faithful cannot taste, for they ' shall never die.' 
 
 Behold it in thy spirit ! all who fail 
 
 In faith walk thro' the vale. 
 Believe and thou shalt live ! 
 
 Doubt is the shadow thin and fugitive 
 
 Of unbelief, the gloomy negative 
 
 That makes of Death a gloom. 
 
 Alas ! that any tread that valley to the Tomb. 
 
 Behold it in thy heart, if that be chill 
 
 And faintly throb or thrill 
 
 To ardours from above ! 
 Death's shadow haunts thee in a dying love 
 For God or man, when the true self doth move 
 
 Along a downward road, 
 Thatleavesthe highway fair to Love's supreme Abode. 
 
 HORIZONS. 
 
 I cannot draw my lingering eyes 
 
 From off yon pageantry 
 Of afternoon solemnities, 
 
 That blending sea and sky. 
 
 A something fetters them the while 
 
 Soft rivals claim their due_ 
 The whispering waves, the clouds that smile, 
 
 The star that steals in view. 
 109 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The eye obeys the heart's desire, 
 For sight the feeling yearns : 
 
 Responsive to yon beckoning fire 
 Imagination burns. 
 
 Far Glory, blest and yet accurst, 
 
 Behind the sunlit sea, 
 The type of Being's best and worst 
 
 Thou ever art to me ! 
 
 Blest art thou, in that Beauty links 
 Herself in thee with Truth, 
 
 A heavenly Marriage, and methinks 
 One never marred by ruth. 
 
 Blest, that calm Ocean too receives 
 In thee the Sun's first kiss, 
 
 Ere he withdraw behind soft Eve's 
 Dark veil to wedded bliss. 
 
 Blest, as the tender trysting-place, 
 Where much of mystic worth 
 
 Is born of the Divine embrace 
 Of married Heaven and Earth. 
 
 Thy gentle pomp has quickened now 
 Within my kindling heart 
 
 High thoughts no language will allow 
 The spirit to impart. 
 
 HO 
 
HORIZONS 
 
 And yet thou art accurst, as are 
 
 All to my fretting soul 
 That fix impassably a bar 
 
 Her freedom to control. 
 
 'Tis true that Beauty's ministry 
 Has tempered the restraint 
 
 With hues that hardly seem to die, 
 Most lovely when they faint. 
 
 'Tis true that pitying Gentleness 
 Has toned it down in light : 
 
 It is a limit none the less, 
 To hungering thirsty sight. 
 
 What tho' Imagination seven 
 
 Times hotter than before, 
 Paint all beyond it as a Heaven 
 
 No mortal can explore ? 
 
 What tho' hard common-sense suggest 
 That past yon radiant gold 
 
 Are cruel waves, and barques unblest, 
 None willingly behold ? 
 
 Aflame for Truth my spirit craves 
 
 The gilded bound to pass, 
 As fretful as the foaming waves, 
 
 More limited, alas ! 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The effort foiled by far deceit 
 
 To conquer curbing Sense 
 Doth figure failure more complete, 
 
 Thro' loftier impotence. 
 
 The Mind hath an horizon which 
 
 None pass in mortal state. 
 With golden hints Divinely rich 
 
 Is every Ultimate. 
 
 So beautiful they look that some 
 
 Believe them wholly true : 
 Ah ! could we to yon Sea-line come 
 
 'Twould alter to near view, 
 
 Or even vanish. Ponder this ! 
 
 The Truth none fully know, 
 Tho' Life be rounded here by Bliss, 
 
 Or corresponding Woe. 
 
 The true Beyond is wholly veiled, 
 
 As none the state survey 
 Of any vessels that have sailed 
 
 Past yon serene display. 
 
 A.nd all the World tho' bright and fair, 
 
 And actual it seems, 
 Is like the glory over there 
 
 Wherein the sunset dreams ! 
 
HORIZONS 
 
 Oh ! whisper thou with bated breath 
 Nor vaunt thy certainties, 
 
 Tho' true they be to thee ! in death 
 The partial vision dies. 
 
 Oh for the perfect now ! you think. 
 
 That cannot be ! tho' mark ! 
 The mist upon the Ocean's brink 
 
 Is luminous, not dark. 
 
 A fair horizon hath the Heart, 
 With boundless love beyond, 
 
 Oft not ere Passion doth depart, 
 Oft past affection fond. 
 
 Sometimes the sun of Passion sets, 
 And merging in the main, 
 
 The nobler than itself begets, 
 Love, living to remain, 
 
 Love strong as death, and in the end 
 
 Its beauty is portrayed 
 By all that ere the sun descend 
 
 Doth deepen and not fade. 
 
 But as beyond our vision naught 
 
 Is like what now appears, 
 Will Love hereafter look like aught 
 
 It was in earthly years ? 
 
 «3 8 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Ah ! no, and vain it were to guess 
 
 Its nature, save in this, 
 It will be larger, and not less, 
 
 In kind, extent, and bliss. 
 
 A fair horizon too is set 
 
 To all the Spirit's powers 
 Transcending Earth, nor doth she fret 
 
 Save in her truest hours. 
 
 The bound is bright, the vista soft : 
 
 Illimitable Space 
 Half hinted at, repels her oft 
 
 Clasped in the frame's embrace. 
 
 Yet now and then a captive bird 
 Strives vainly to break forth 
 
 To those whose music it has heard 
 When migrant for the North. 
 
 Here too it is thou figurest 
 My worst, that she must stay- 
 
 My best, that o'er thee to her Rest 
 She soon will soar away. 
 
 PER CONTRA. 
 
 'Tis melted, the meridian blaze 
 Begotten of the morning pink, 
 Into the tender golden haze 
 Ere Day's bright orb of glory sink. 
 114 
 
PER CONTRA 
 
 'Tis faded, the enchanting bloom 
 Unfolded from the early shoot, 
 That bears, to ripen amid gloom 
 And shine, the satisfying fruit. 
 
 'Tis vanished, the ecstatic thrill 
 Born of the forest field and grove, 
 Yet have I for dear Nature still 
 As great, altho' a calmer love. 
 
 'Tis gone, the petulant desire 
 That fitfully upleapt for long, 
 To leave a quiet glow, the fire 
 Of resolution firm and strong. 
 
 'Tis past, the former passion-flame 
 By fuel overfed, that spent 
 Its ardour and at last became 
 True love regard or sentiment. 
 
 'Tis over, the hot search for Truth 
 That would not brook a partial view, 
 Yet perished in the early youth 
 Of Faith which gradually grew. 
 
 Thus thus it goes, the fervent grace 
 Of all in Nature, all in Life- 
 It goes, for Calm to take the place, 
 Sweet Calm, of heated toil and strife. 
 115 8 — 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Weep not the losses ! count the gains, 
 And you will find the balance rest 
 In favour of what still remains, 
 And reckon that the last is best ! 
 
 THE MAGIC OF MUSIC. 
 
 There is a Sun who fills an azure bright 
 With his unshadowed light, 
 To gild each tremulous wave 
 
 Of ether that no Ocean shore doth lave, 
 
 While spiring up toward him, strong and brave, 
 Two golden Eagles soar 
 
 In narrowing circles, nigh to Heaven's refulgent door. 
 
 Within me all-the golden Sun above 
 
 What can it be but Love? 
 
 The Azure rippling round 
 What but the vibratory waves of sound ? 
 The Heavenward Eagles that disdain the ground, 
 
 Enraptured Feeling, one, 
 The other, Fancy bright, both pinioned for the Sun. 
 
 Sun, Azure, Waves, and Eagles, that so shine ! 
 
 Wake in this heart of mine 
 
 Inspired by a rare strain 
 From the grand Organ of an ancient Fane 
 Music, too lovely to be heard again 
 
 Unless before one dies 
 The pilot Angels chime it winged for Paradise ! 
 
 116 
 
IDEALS 
 
 Like evening fire dissolving on the grey 
 
 The vision melts away. 
 
 My lifted heart lies low 
 Unwinged, and emptied of the radiant glow, 
 The tide of ecstasy-an ebb and flow 
 
 So sweet that it were worth 
 For it to front the gloom of disenchanted Earth ! 
 
 IDEALS. 
 
 All visionary, but untrue 
 And only born to die? Nay nay. 
 The false mirage recedes from view 
 As one draws near, but these will stay- 
 Stay, as the Moon whose magic oft 
 Attracts the wandering eye above. 
 Stay, as the guiding Star aloft 
 Whose beauty charms us while we rove- 
 Stay, as the lighthouse gleam_ah ! more, 
 The Coast that nears us while we sail, 
 The unimaginable Shore 
 That beckons mid the rain and gale- 
 Stay, as Utopia, that fair Land 
 We may not win, which yet doth shew 
 Blue sunlit waters, golden sand, 
 And glittering fields, as on we go. 
 117 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Yes, all will stay, because of this, 
 That, shadows as they are at most, 
 The Substance is high Truth and Bliss, 
 Whereof ideals are the ghost. 
 
 Ours haply in pre-natal Life, 
 
 Their phantom even is enough 
 
 To steady us mid daily strife 
 
 When winds are rude, and waves are rough. 
 
 And will it ever vanish? Yes, 
 For when ' the Perfect shall have come ' 
 The part is ' done away,'-the less 
 Goes when the Greater all doth sum. 
 
 THE SINGLE BLOOM OF AGRIMONY. 
 
 With every sister flower afar 
 No eye could fail on thee to light ! 
 As one beholds a single star 
 That glistens in the field of light : 
 Or wanderers may be discern 
 A sungilt steeple if they turn. 
 
 I will not pluck thee, for I hold 
 A rude despoiler of thy grace 
 Might gaily rob the sun of gold 
 To put his shadow in its place, 
 Far better leave such fairy things 
 To quicken bright imaginings. 
 118 
 
THE SINGLE BLOOM OF AGRIMONY 
 
 The church with upward-pointing spire 
 That gleams divinely, doth remain : 
 The lighthouse with an earthlier fire 
 Still warns from danger, nor in vain. 
 Half heavenly, half earthly, thou 
 A ray in miniature art now ! 
 
 A ray of beauty to burn on 
 Perchance when dismal whirlwinds blow, 
 And other blooms we gaze upon 
 With eyes of summer gladness, go : 
 A ray of hope to hint that one 
 Bright beam may yet escape the sun. 
 
 I thrill to any lingering spire 
 That mocks the faded autumn-flame, 
 Or if a trembling tongue of fire 
 The quickly spent Aurora shame. 
 So will this heart upleap should I 
 Behold thee gleam when others die ! 
 
 WHITE ARCHANGELS. 
 
 No name more worthy to express 
 
 So pure a form and face ! 
 Could any link such loveliness 
 
 To aught untrue or base ? 
 Forbid it, Heaven ! Yet some mistake 
 The stinging herb in field or brake, 
 119 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 To handle which means smart and ache, 
 For your unspbtted race. 
 
 Grim wolves, the holy Book doth tell, 
 
 Like stainless sheep are dressed ; 
 The black Archangel ere he fell 
 
 Wore an unsullied vest : 
 And he and his so oft are bright 
 Before they tempt, in robes of light, 
 Men fear that ye, for all your white, 
 Mask evil in your breast. 
 
 Ah, well ! ye do but share the fate 
 
 The holiest endure. 
 In life's vain field immaculate, 
 
 Do mortals deem them pure? 
 Avoided, slandered, pointed at, 
 By men accused of this or that, 
 Tried by their peers, if Angels sat, 
 
 To judge them, all secure ! 
 
 And then, as always, men in you 
 
 Belittle common things- 
 The sparrow's unpretentious hue, 
 
 The butterfly's white wings. 
 What tho' each look a stainless ghost, 
 Ye people every hedge, fair host, 
 Inviting scorn, besides that most 
 
 So fear your fancied stings ! 
 
 120 
 
A TRIUNE PICTURE 
 
 Ere other flowers, mid frost and wind, 
 
 I mark your heavenly bloom ! 
 They perish, ye are left behind 
 
 In beauty, o'er their tomb. 
 Who wills may pass you. I, for one, 
 Rank you with all beneath the sun 
 That lingers, when the rest have won 
 Beatitude or doom. 
 
 A TRIUNE PICTURE. 
 
 A lovely morning, fairer far 
 Than many a midsummer could boast, 
 Blue ocean past a golden bar, 
 Beyond it an enchanted coast, 
 Low water, yet ere long the tide 
 Will freshen up to greet a bride. 
 
 A parable it all appears 
 
 Of our three generations now- 
 
 The two-in-one for smiles or tears 
 
 Linked lately by a marriage vow ; 
 
 Two children mid rock, weed and shell ; 
 
 Two men beneath life's autumn spell. 
 
 The fairy girl, the sunny boy 
 Glean rainbow shells on life's low beach. 
 The flood-tide of its brightest joy 
 The wedded lovers soon may reach. 
 
 121 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The two that manhood's vigour lack 
 Feel the fresh current ebbing back. 
 
 The merry pair below rejoice 
 In earthly being's rosy morn ; 
 Thyself and thy devoted choice 
 Meridian splendour, now adorn ! 
 The ageing ones forecast the rest 
 Of sunset in the flushing west. 
 
 And now we part, to leave one bliss 
 Behind, and one to bear away- 
 The joy of a sweet scene like this, 
 The memory of a cloudless day. 
 O trinity of pairs ! O twain ! 
 Be love's firm unity your chain. 
 
 To A. F. 
 
 October 14, igo8. 
 
 IN THE SHRUBBERY, EXMOUTH. 
 
 Dark Evergreens ! oft slighted mid the Spring's 
 
 Fresh fairy things ; 
 Or when warm Summer's robe of riper green 
 
 Arrays the scene ; 
 More valued when we thread the Autumn shade 
 Of withered flowers, and foliage decayed ; 
 We prize you in wild Winter, as ye stand 
 In verdure, mid bare boughs on either hand. 
 
 122 
 
IN THE SHRUBBERY, EXMOUTH 
 
 Be this calm Avenue, at first, the Life 
 
 Of moral strife ! 
 How we admire in Spring and Summer both, 
 
 The human growth 
 That vaunts a glory that will fade and fail, 
 And slight the wealth, that weathers every gale ! 
 When Autumn-fall o'ershadows heart and flesh, 
 We turn to beauty ever green and fresh. 
 
 And next be this long Labyrinth the Earth 
 
 That gave me birth ; 
 The trees that Spring and Summer tints have shed, 
 
 Friends lost or dead ; 
 Ye firm unchanging ones of constant hue 
 Be my dear mates, the ever faithful few 
 Who cooled and sheltered me in fiery youth, 
 And linger still to shield me with their truth ! 
 
 Now Fancy veering as the fickle breeze 
 
 Bids yon bare trees 
 Be charms of form and feature that outlast 
 
 No wintry blast ; 
 While evergreens are virtues that a heart 
 May value if the withering grace depart : 
 And could one peer within, he would behold 
 How fresh they look beside the fading gold. 
 
 123 
 
THE ASCENT OF LIFE. 
 
 On a fair plain 
 
 Weary, I halt in vain, 
 
 Ascending from a sunlit vale 
 
 In beauty stretched below. 
 
 I may not for a moment stop 
 
 On the rough road I have to climb 
 
 Up to the mountain top, 
 
 Misty and peaked with snow, 
 
 In an appointed time. 
 
 Blown on the subtle gale, 
 
 Sweet perfumes linger as I go. 
 
 Faint echoes of forgotten things 
 
 Are wafted on its airy wings, 
 
 While the strange reminiscent breeze 
 
 Makes me behold 
 
 The fairy flowers and trees 
 
 Tinged with incomparable gold, 
 
 That circle the dear spot of Earth 
 
 Wherein my spirit came to birth. 
 
 Alas ! that Being bids me rove 
 
 From that sweet valley up above, 
 
 That Nature makes her pilgrim roam 
 
 From the fond early home, 
 
 The ne'er to be forgotten love. 
 
 Methinks the wind will change 
 As oft it has before, 
 
 124 
 
THE ASCENT OF LIFE 
 
 When I, faint-hearted and footsore, 
 Have spurred me to the upward range. 
 Oh ! it has wafted from on high, 
 A tonic stronger than the heather balms, 
 A hymn more helpful than the murmuring bees', 
 And tones whose echoes hardly die 
 Not seldom have I heard 
 Tuneful with high and heavenly psalms 
 Upon the bracing breeze ; 
 And wings diviner than the mountain bird 
 Unfurls, have seemed to brush 
 Quite near, and leave me in a hush 
 Of calm expectancy that never yet 
 Has failed to satisfy the debt. 
 Nor is the upland bare 
 Of foliage, flower, and fruit. 
 Seeds in that soil will take firm root, 
 For all the cold ungenial air: 
 Each germ of passion dies, 
 For tender love thereout to rise 
 In many a hopeful shoot. 
 Heart blossoms flourish there 
 Like Autumn blooms unshadowed by 
 The Autumn fate of lingering decay : 
 And fruit imperishable will display 
 A ripened wealth the nearer to the Sky 
 The pilgrim clambers, high 
 Above the enervating vale 
 125 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Of youthful loveliness, the pleasant plain. 
 
 Blow down, thou blessed gale ! 
 
 So nerve me that I climb 
 
 With heavenly comfort to attain 
 
 Yon summit mantled with the snows of Time, 
 
 The limit of this faltering life, 
 
 Its painful steep, its toil and strife, 
 
 This Nebo of a weary pilgrimage, 
 
 This frosty peaked old age, 
 
 When, all alone with guardian God, 
 
 He buries my poor frame below the sod, 
 
 To sleep beneath His eye, among the dead, 
 
 The beckoning Heaven around and overhead. 
 
 THE REST-HARROW. 
 
 Name right welcome to me ! Culture 
 (Tell it not in accents loud, 
 But a whisper !) is the vulture 
 That, if Poetry should die 
 In this age of industry, 
 Will upon its vitals prey. 
 Therefore every field unploughed 
 Can but waken fancies wild 
 In rude Nature's fitful child. 
 Earth is shadowed, ocean grey, 
 Yet my carols come to-day ! 
 
 Perish harrows, with their toiling 
 Horses and rough guiding hand ! 
 126 
 
THE ROBIN'S SECRET 
 
 If their work be the despoiling 
 Of the virgin flowers I view 
 Delicate in form and hue, 
 Every bloom like thee, I trust, 
 Beaming as a seraph band 
 Would, if in a lowly birth 
 They incarnated on Earth, 
 All a-wing as spirits, just 
 Loosed from fetters, scorn the dust. 
 
 Nay, if ye were that, each pinion 
 Must be for a little furled. 
 Make yon meadow your dominion, 
 Ministering angels be, 
 Turning tears to smiles, by thought 
 Of the beauty ye have brought 
 To a world of gloom and sin ! 
 Thrilling to your outer rose, 
 See, my face with envy glows ! 
 White the spirit that can win 
 Half your purity within. 
 
 THE ROBIN'S SECRET. 
 
 Blithe Warbler on the bough above, 
 Of what dost thou divinely sing ? 
 Thy music eloquent of love 
 Must be of some dear hidden thing. 
 127 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 The quiet wind, the listening sky, 
 Both know it from thee, why not I ? 
 
 Nay, most perversely thou art dumb, 
 Nor wilt thou tell thy tale I see, 
 Tho' flitting down to snatch a crumb 
 With a bright trustful eye on me. 
 So let me shew thee in a song 
 Thy rude unwisdom, and my wrong ! 
 
 Unwise thou wert to tell them. Look 
 At what has followed, and be sure 
 I read, as from an open book, 
 Thy secret, which is one no more ! 
 Yon sweet half-hidden nest and mate 
 Wilt thou still keep from me ? Too late ! 
 
 One confidant, the sky, shot out 
 
 A sunbeam on the mossy sod. 
 
 A breeze, the other, crept about 
 
 From flower to flower that all might nod 
 
 In gentle gossip, and reveal 
 
 What they were stationed to conceal. 
 
 And I, so hurt by thy mistrust, 
 Enlightened, counter to thy will, 
 Claim now from thee, since I am just, 
 For secrecy, a heavenly trill. 
 Thou on that spray again, I swear 
 None find thro' me thy leafy lair ! 
 12S 
 
IN 'THE MERRY RING-TIME.' 
 
 The green sunny levels 
 Grow flowers that are trembling to every breeze : 
 
 Sweet birds hold their revels 
 Both in the blue sky and the twinkling trees: 
 
 Pure stars in the gloaming 
 Soon shed the calm splendour of Heaven above, 
 
 On two that are roaming 
 Thro' Passion's soft mist into bowers of Love. 
 
 Ah ! were you to listen, 
 Some amorous accent would meet your ear. 
 
 Rapt features will glisten 
 At words that to every sweetheart are dear. 
 
 True tones may assure her 
 That fair as a flower is one face to him, 
 
 That stars shining o'er her, 
 Beside the bright eyes that now beam, are dim ! 
 
 He soon will be trembling 
 To sighs that half hint at a love untold. 
 
 Mid fitful dissembling 
 They make the most backward of suitors bold. 
 
 Could mortal be deafer 
 Who hears not a ' yes ' in the whispered ' No ' ? 
 
 Love's breath like a zephyr 
 Brings thought into flower, and bids feeling grow. 
 
 129 9 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Divinest of Seasons 
 That bless Earth and Man in the yearly round, 
 
 So fraught with fit reasons 
 For mortals to wed and Love's music sound ; 
 
 Why deepen to Summer 
 And vanish before the dark tide's advance, 
 
 When Love the new-comer 
 Will dream for awhile in a winter trance ? 
 
 FROM THE STANDPOINT OF 
 ETERNITY. 
 
 What if all human Prayer was heard 
 
 Before Creation came- 
 And answered in the shaping Word 
 
 That fitted to the frame 
 Of soul and body, thro' all Time, 
 The wherewithal for man to climb 
 From lower life to one sublime 
 A Glory none can name ? 
 
 For sudden insight makes me see 
 
 Our bright but shadowed Earth, 
 As one who from Eternity 
 Surveys its total worth- 
 Past, Present, Future, all in one, 
 Nor only Right when Wrong is done, 
 And Bliss, in Pain and Woe begun, 
 And Plenty after dearth. 
 130 
 
FROM THE STANDPOINT OF ETERNITY 
 
 Lo ! here in symbol I discern 
 
 Prayer winged and answer sent. 
 The incense from all hearts that yearn, 
 
 In floral perfumes blent. 
 God's answer, be it every flower 
 That blooms thro' Heaven's responsive shower 
 And shine, or atmospheric power, 
 That further its ascent. 
 
 And in the Rainbow there appears 
 
 Divinely overhead 
 The sum transfigured of all tears 
 
 By hapless mortals shed ! 
 A witness to the worth of Pain, 
 A hint that Woe is never vain, 
 Hope's benison upon the twain 
 Delight and Sorrow wed. 
 
 And if in Ocean's sad unrest 
 
 And constant murmurings 
 Our baffled efforts be expressed 
 
 For Joy on cruel wings, 
 Do not the billows on the beach, 
 Which break in showers of silver, teach 
 That brightness past the mortal reach 
 To dissolution clings ? 
 
 While every splendid thing I view 
 Washed on the yellow sand, 
 
 131 9 — 2 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Weeds, pebbles, shells of radiant hue, 
 
 Help me to understand 
 How, Time's alternate current o'er, 
 Fresh from wild Death's relentless roar, 
 Souls cast on the Eternal shore 
 Shine on that golden Strand. 
 
 TOM-TITS UPON SUN-FLOWERS. 
 
 Three bright eyes ! no basilisk, 
 Ever chained the gaze like them, 
 With a bird on every disc 
 Flashing like an orient gem ; 
 For the patron Sun who heard 
 The appeal of his own flowers, 
 Flooding fire on bloom and bird, 
 Splendour on my fancy showers. 
 
 So transfigured, be the birds 
 Human seekers after bliss ; 
 Brilliant is it beyond words, 
 Yet the brightness oft we miss. 
 What we win but feeds the sense, 
 Bird-like on the centre, each ; 
 Few, the gold circumference 
 Of the flower attempt to reach. 
 132 
 
INTERCOMMUNION 
 
 Be yon blossoms sun-illumed 
 Golden pleasure, wealth, and love ; 
 Ever bright, they have assumed 
 Fuller glory from above. 
 Look ! the banqueters now cling 
 Gaily to the blooms-but lo ! 
 They are all upon the wing, 
 And the Sun withdraws his glow ! 
 
 INTERCOMMUNION. 
 
 Alone I rambled on an Autumn day. 
 How dull ! say some who love to laugh and talk. 
 How sad ! think others who would rather play 
 Or work than take a melancholy walk. 
 
 Mine was not that, nor was I quite alone : 
 From first to last, I travelled with two friends 
 Still with me, for that time has never flown ; 
 That journey was a walk that never ends. 
 
 In this, not only that safe memory 
 Retains it ever fresh mid care and strife, 
 But that I recognize it now to be 
 A type and sample of my after-life. 
 
 And was one friend, you ask, on either side ? 
 Well, hardly ; one I only saw in part : 
 The other was unseen, and could but glide, 
 As did her genius, into my warm heart. 
 
 133 
 
TWILIGHT MUSIC 
 
 Let me interpret ! Nature was the one. 
 You do not know her if you doubt my joy ; 
 The knowledge of her charm in youth begun, 
 Has brought me riches_gold without alloy. 
 
 To-day I knew her very sweet and near, 
 Not only her fair frame that never goes, 
 But her bright spirit ; and the failing year 
 Shewed that in pensive and serene repose. 
 
 In movement, also, when a sudden breeze 
 Bade silent birds their wary wings unfold, 
 Disturbed the dreaming of the sylvan trees, 
 And shot the meadow tapestry with gold. 
 
 I could not link the withering scene with Death ; 
 Its ashes held the Phcenix_fire of Life : 
 While Nature's very spirit was the breath 
 That winged the birds, and woke the leafy strife. 
 
 The other friend was Poetry-and I 
 Was happy in that she with Nature blent ; 
 As when two sympathetic comrades try 
 To make a third partake of their content. 
 
 So Nature pointed Poetry to woods 
 In golden glory, many a lingering flower, 
 The glistening sea, the sky in various moods, 
 And bade her put forth her divinest power. 
 
 i34 
 
INTERCOMMUNION 
 
 While she the sweet enchantress made me feel, 
 A beauty in them more than sense could find, 
 Beloved by Nature, she would now reveal 
 How fair she was, to my receptive mind. 
 
 The fiery forests were her glowing flush, 
 The sun-gilt waves became her rippling smile, 
 The western crimson was her tender blush, 
 The blossoms proved her pure and free from guile. 
 
 And Nature, not to be outdone, then seemed 
 To shew her mate sufficient of herself 
 To charm, if magnetized by her, I dreamed 
 Of love, hope, passion, spirit, fay, or elf. 
 
 Then their quick intercourse did so bewitch 
 My brain, I hardly knew what came from each ; 
 Both blent a pauper spirit to enrich 
 With golden gain, to cheer, inspire, and teach. 
 
 O that rare ramble ! O that glorious pair ! 
 O happiest of hearts between the two ! 
 My acme of delight was then and there, 
 Nor could I wish a loftier joy for you.