BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF 1891 Au^A'^^-q- -4 The date shows when this volume was taken. All books not in use for instruction or re- search are limited to four weeks to all bor- rowers. Periodicals of a gen- eral character should be returned as soon as '. possible ; when needed beyond two weeks -a special request should be made. &M\student borrow- ers are limited to two weeks, with renewal privileges, when the book is not needed by- others. Books not needed during recess periods should be returned to the library, or arrange- ments 'made for their return during borrow- er's absence, if wanted. Books needed by • more than one person belong on the reserve list. Cornell University Library PR 4042.T3 1902 A tale of true love, and other poems, 3 1924 013 209 709 p^ Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013209709 A TALE OF TRUE LOVE AND OTHER POEMS A TALE OF TRUE LOVE AND OTHER POEMS » ^ » i^ ALFRED AUSTIN POET LAUREATE HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON MCMII A,l(Dfe%57 Copyright, 1902, by Alfred Austin. Alt rights rrttrved. Published April, i9<»- TO ONE EVKN MORE DISTINGUISHED FOR HIS PERSONAL QUALITIES THAN FOR HIS POLITICAL POSITION LOFTY THOUGH IT BE PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT I INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME WITH DEEP ADMIRATION AND RESPECT ^ 9^ PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION (HAVE long observed that the [ only way of addressing the Amer- lican people that is agreeable to 'them is to do so with unhesi- tating frankness; and as that mode of address is, if we may say so, as con- genial to the present writer as it is to themselves, he is going to avail himself of it on this occasion. He finds that, on their side of the ocean as on ours, there are many persons who imagine that the office of Poet Laureate is a mere court ap- pointment, and that the holder of it is expected, on stated occasions, to publish courtly sentiments in verse ; and, as this conception is calculated to vii prepossess American opinion against both, he wants to assure them it is a wholly mistaken one. Do they think, had such been the nature and re- sponsibilities of the office, it would ever have been offered to a man of such manly indepen- dence of character as Walter Scott; or is it to be supposed that such men as Wordsworth and Tennyson would have accepted it without hesi- tating, had any taint of courtly servility been attached to it? But, as a fact, it was expressly understood, when Southey was nominated to the post, that, whatever might have once been its supposed functions and obligations, these had altogether passed away, thanks to one of those unwritten but none the less operative modifica- tions that are continuously taking place in the British Constitution and British society; and, when the present writer had the honor, however undeserved, of being nominated as Tennyson's successor, it was in writing communicated to him, with that spontaneous graciousness of lan- guage which was one of the distinctive gifts of our late beloved and revered Queen, that she was viii quite sure he would know when best, and how best, to give expression to national sentiment. In this spirit the honor was conferred; in this spirit it was accepted. But, this being so, he feels that whenever the Poet Laureate expresses the racial thoughts and racial sentiments of the British people, he must perforce be expressing those of the American people no less. How can it be otherwise? To enforce the answer to that question as succinctly as possible, may it not be said with absolute truth that both speak not only the same language, but pursue the same ideal. Like the Knights of the Round Table of old, " they both go in search of the modern Holy Grail — ^the freedom, the dignity, the intellectual evolution of mankind." The present writer is no courtly convert to sympathy with the people and policy of the United States. He is gratified to be able to re- member that search would in vain be made among his writings, whether in verse or prose, since first he began to publish what he wrote, now nearly fifty years ago, for any sentiment or word of his wanting in appreciation of the Amer- ican people. That is why he has ventured to ad- dress them in the foregoing tone of, he trusts, pardonable and even welcome familiarity. That also is why he would wish what he writes to be seen by them, as well as by his own fellow-coun- trymen. SwiNFORD Old Manor. March 7, 1902. CONTENTS FACE To Robert Louis Stevenson xiii A Tale of True Love . . 3 In the Forum SS Polyphemus . . 65 A Border Burn 85 Beatrice -99 Winter 105 Florence . 109 The Passing of the Century .119 A Royal Home-Coming 127 Sonnet 135 Winter Violets 139 XI TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON Written after reading, a second time, the posthumous fragment " Weir of Hermiston " I NEVER saw you, never grasped your hand, Nor wrote nor read lines absence loves to trace. Ne'er with you sate in your accustomed place. Nor waited for your coming on sea or land. But this I know, if along unseen strand. Or anywhere in God's eternal space. You heard my voice, or I beheld your face, That we should greet, and both would under- stand. So, till that hour, wherever you abide, On circling star or interstellar sea, Or where, from man's imagination free. There moves no planet and there sounds no tide. Welcome, as though from friend long known and tried. This gift of loving fellowship from me. January, 1900 xlv A TALE OF TRUE LOVE Ay me ! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth. "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act. I., Scene i. |0T in the mist of legendary ages, Which in sad moments men call long ago, 'And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages. And virtues vanished, since we do not know. But here to-day wherein we all grow old. But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told. 3 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ II For Earth to tender wisdom grows not older. But to young hearts remains forever young, Spring no less winsome. Winter winds no colder, Than when tales first were told, songs first were sung. And all things always still remain the same''' That touch the human heart and feed Love's vestal flame. Ill And, if you have ears to hear, and eyes for seeing, Maidens there be, as were there in your youth. That round you breathe and move and have their being. Fair as Greek Helen, pure as Hebrew Ruth; With Heaven-appointed poets, quick to sing Of blameless warrior brave and wisdom-coun- selled king. * " Eadem sunt omnia semper."— LucRBTnTS. 4 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE |^ ^ IV And though, in this our day, youth, love, and beauty. Are far too often glorified as slave Of every sense except the sense of duty. In fables that dishonor and deprave The old-world creeds still linger, taught us by The pious lips that mute now in the church' yard lie. V And this true, simple tale in verse as simple. Will from its prelude to its close be told. As free from artifice as is the dimple In childhood's cheek, whereby is age consoled. And haply it may soothe some sufferer's lot. When noisier notes are husht and newer ones forgot. ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ VI And think not, of your graciousness, I pray you, Who tells the tale is one of those who deem That love will beckon only to betray you. Life an illusion, happiness a dream; Only that noble grief is happier far Than transitory lusts and feverish raptures are. VII It was the season when aggressive Winter, That had so long invested the sealed world With frosts that starve and hurricanes that splinter. And rain, hail, blizzard, mercilessly hurled, Made one forlorn last effort to assail Ere Spring's relieving spears came riding on the gale. ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ VIII For Amazonian March with breast uncovered Blew loud her clarion, and the wintry host Took courage fresh and lingeringly hovered Round vale and hill, wherever needed most; And ever and anon the raging weather And wolfish winds reformed, and onward swept together. IX Loud-bellowing to the thunder-clouds to follow: But all in vain, for here, there, eversrwhere. Primrose battalions, seizing ridge and hollow. Dingle and covert, wind-flowers wild that dare Beyond their seeming, bluebells without soimd, And scentless violets peeped, to spring up from the ground. ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ X And, covering their advance, swift - scouring showers. Gathering, dispersing, skirmished through the sky, Till squadrons of innumerable flowers Thronged through the land far as you could descry. Then Winter, smitten with despair and dread. Folded his fluttering tents, sounded retreat, and fled. XI Whereat the land, so long beleaguered, seeing The peril past, and Winter's iron ring Broken, and all his cohorts norward fleeing. Came forth to welcome and embrace the Spring, Spring the Deliverer, and from sea and shore Rose the rejoicing shout, " See, April comes once more !" 8 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XII Radiant she came, attended by her zephyrs, And forth from dusky stall and hurdled fold Poured lowing kine and sleeky-coated heifers. To roam at will through pastures green and gold. Where unweaned lambs from morning until night Raced round their nibbling dams and frolicked with delight. XIII High up, on larch and cypress, merle and mavis Vociferated love-lays sweet as strong. And the bird dear to Homer and to Hafiz Proclaimed the joy of sadness all night long; Vowed each new Spring more spring-like than the last. And triumphed over Time, futile iconoclast. 9 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XIV Then imperceptibly and slowly rounded Slim, girlish April into maiden May, Whereat still louder everywhere resounded The cuckoo's call and throstle's roundelay. It was as though in meadow, chase, and wood, God made the world anew, and saw that it was good. XV Then feudal Avoncourt, the stem and stately. Whose dawn deep hidden in undated days. Not like those palaces erected lately Whose feet swift crumble, and whose face decays, Defieth Time's insatiable tooth. Relaxed grave gaze and wore the countenance of youth. 10 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XVI It had beheld kings and proud empires vanish, Male sceptres shattered, princedoms pass away — Norman, Plantagenet, Lombard, Swabian, Span- ish, Rise, rule, then totter, and topple from their sway; York and Lancastrian Rose unfold and bloom. Then canker and decay, and vanish in the tomb. XVII It faces the four winds with like demeanor, Norward as southernward, as though to say, " Blow from some other, stronger and still keener, Wherefrom you will, and I will face that way." And round it as you roam, to gaze perplexed, Each side seems loveliest till you look upon the next. II ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XVIII Its present seeming unto ages Tudor It owes, by unnamed, unknown hands designed, Who planned and worked amid a folk deemed ruder. But who with grace enduring strength combined. Like sturdy oak with all its leaves still on. When foliage from elm and sycamore have gone. XIX Upon its delicate, lofty-jutting portal. Imaginative minds and hands have wrought Of dead artificers once deemed immortal, , From Southern climes by kings and magnates brought. When architects and sculptors smiled in scorn On plain defensive days and called the world reborn. 12 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XX But time hath mellowed muUion, roof, and gable. Stone-work without, and wainscoting within; And nigh them oaken - timbered bam and stable. Lowlier, withal of countenance akin. Cluster, for in times olden meek and proud, Being nearer much than now, their kinship was avowed. XXI From it slope woodlands and long alleys shaded, Saving that all around it and more near Stretches wild chase by ploughshare uninvaded, Where roam rough cattle, and unherded deer That look up as you pass from brackened sod. Then flee with step as fleet as that whereon they trod. 13 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXII Through vale below from many a source unfailing A river flows where deft hands cast the line, Well stocked with wary trout and bolder gray- ling. Through smooth, fat pastures dotted o'er with kine League after league the water winds away, Oft turning as though loath from Avoncourt to stray. XXIII It was in the sweet season that hath ravished The virgin heart since ever love began, A maiden, upon whom had Nature lavished Each fair gift given to maiden or to man. Roamed all alone through windings of its wood, Seeking the way to where Avoncourt haply stood. 14 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXIV Onward in search of it she went, but slowly, For who could hasten through so fresh a scene. With violets paved, the lovelier because lowly. And pallid primroses on ground of green; While overhead each bird that hath a voice Seemed in its own blithe notes to revel and re- joice. XXV And ever and anon she gazed around her. Or knelt to gather some appealing flower. And to dear God, the Father and the Founder Of all things good, the all-protecting Power, Breathed a brief prayer of thanks within her breast. Feeling she roamed in Heaven on earth made manifest. 15 ^ 1^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXVI Sometimes she broke into spontaneous singing. Such as fond nurse to fretful babe might sing. Whose close as sudden is as its beginning. Herself she seemed a portion of the Spring, Which, if she went, would lose the chiefest part Of that which charms the gaze and captivates the heart. XXVII At length she passed from out these paths em- bowered To where meek does, young fawns, and shaggy beeves Ranged amid bracken ; but the house that towered Full nigh at hand for intercepting leaves She still descried not, so, advancing under An arch of hornbeam, stood in husht, astonied wonder. i6 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXVIII For thete it rose as silent and abstracted As though it nothing shared or had to say With those that, shadow-like, have lived and acted Upon the stage we call our later day; From passing passions thoughtfully aloof. Through age, not pride, without lamenting or reproof. XXIX Then slowly timid, tentative explorer. Longing to see yet dreading to be seen, A sudden living figure rose before her Of manly mould and meditative mien; Modem, withal with air of ancient port. As if the same blood flowed through him and Avoncourt. 17 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXX "Forgive," she said, "an overbold intruder!" " I doubt if an3nvhere yoa would intrude ; But, sooth, none do on this survival Tudor, Who visit its old age in reverent mood." "And that indeed I do. I never saw Aught that I so admired, or felt for so much awe." XXXI " Will you, I round it willingly can guide you. Unless — and, told, shall fully understand — Wander you rather would with none beside you To mar the silence of the windless land, Saving Spring's choristers, whose constant trills One hears or doth not hear, according as one wills." i8 A TALE OF TRUE LOVE XXXII "You know it well?" she asked. — ^"I ought to know it. Here was I born, here grew to boy's estate, Pored o'er the page of storier and poet. All that is big, magnanimous, and great; Hardened my own, tried my dear mother's nerves. Robbed the home orchard, poached my father's own preserves." XXXIII " And are you now its occupant and possessor?" " So called, alas ! whose ancestors have paid The final tax, by Death, the stem assessor. On all poor mortals equitably laid. I have a leasehold; no one can have more — This side, at least, the vague, still-undiscovered shore." 19 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXXIV Thereat there fell a silence on their speaking, And on they moved, he follower more than guide ; Oblivious she what 'twas that she was seeking. Since conscious now of manhood at her side. Withal, so much there was to lure her gaze. That his on her could rest, nor stint its look of praise. XXXV Then when they reached the Jacobean portal, Back rolled its doors of iron brace and stay. On grooves that seemed more cut for feet im- mortal Than for a feeble, transitory day. And mounted oaken stair axe-hewn, unplaned, With lion-headed piers unpolished and unstained. 20 f^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXXVI From coffered ceiling hung down tattered ban- ners. And weapons warlike deadly deemed no more Were parked on landing ; grants of ancient man- ors, With charts and parchments of black-letter lore, Stacked spears and dinted armor; ebon presses With jealous bolts stood locked in embrasured recesses. XXXVII Chamber on chamber wainscoted and spacious Was lined with effigies of warriors wise. Reticent rulers, dames revered and gracious. Whose fingers wove the silken tapestries. Time-toned but faded not, that draped the wall Of gallery long and straight, and square -set banquet-hall. 21 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XXXVIII About lay obsolete instruments, wheel and spindle, When women read much less and knew much more. Huge logs for early-rising maids to kindle On deep-set hearths, mottoes of lasting lore In ancient tongues, Norman or Saxon stave. Bidding man live and die, meek, pious, steadfast, brave. XXXIX And many a question asked she, always getting The answer craved for, given prompt and plain. " But look," she said, " the sun will soon be setting. And that old dial-hand that doth nor gain Nor lose, I am sure, in its diurnal pace. Reproves me I still lag in this enthralling place." 22 H^ HI A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XL "Then come again," he answered, "at your leisure," And led her outward where the ancient pile Looked as though dwelt within no special treasure, And owned no spell nor charm save sunset's smile. Like one of those large natures that betray No sign that they are made of more than com- mon clay. XLI " And may I ask your homeward footsteps, whither? What! there! it is on Avoncourt estate. And I by shorter path can guide you thither Than that you came by, fear you to be late. You lodge with much-loved tenants, for the wife My foster-parent was in rosy-dawning life." 23 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XLII " She did not tell me that; but. sooth, our meeting Was but two days back, though I quickly saw That she for you would evermore be bleating With voice of blent solicitude and awe." "'Tis so: on Sundays with a spirit meek She worships God, then me the rest of all the week." XLIII Wending and winding under curved ways shaded, Wider than heretofore, they farmward trod. While twilight incense all the air pervaded Round flower-decked altar at the shrine of God, This sacred Earth, and for approaching night One star kept watch, as yet Heaven's only lamp alight. 24 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XLIV To her it seemed the Real and Ideal At last were one, and every bird that sings Joined prayerfully in chorus hymeneal Ere folding music underneath its wings. How little did she guess that ambushed grief Watched all her thoughts and lurked 'neath every dewy leaf. XLV " Are both your parents at the farmstead stay- ing?" " Alas !" she said, " like yours, they both abide My coming further off, and in my praying Alone survive; my guardian and my guide. My mother's sister, whom we there shall find, Most loving and most loved of living woman- kind." 25 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XLVI Though of this generation, in his greeting Was something of the grace of bygone days, Which, when long -passed familiar fashions fleeting, Maidens will prize and matrons still will praise. So of him gone both elder and more young That night held long discourse with sympathetic tongue. XLVII But, after visit shortly paid together To Avoncourt, and welcome shown afresh To both as one, since oftentimes the tether Of shortening life enslaving mortal flesh Her guardian held at home, Egeria roamed Ofttimes alone through chase and alleys greenly domed. 26 gl ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ XLVIII And it would happen sometimes by frank favor, Though oftener far by chance, that angel good. They walked where waters wind and aspens quaver. Or on the outskirts of some quiet wood. And, with a noble pride less shown than felt. He led through lands where long his ancestors had dwelt. XLIX Anon they visited the red-roofed village, A rural road by homely gardens flanked. Whose male arms were at work on spring-time tillage. And children safe in school-house — " Heaven be thanked!" Their mothers said when coming forth to greet The wandering pair as these mounted the hamlet street, 27 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ L Where buttressed church with crenellated tower Over the village still kept watch and ward, " For these," he said, " inherited have that power, The pious citadels of peace that guard The sin-beleaguered soul, and still repel From humble homes and hearts the ravening hosts of hell." LI Within were monuments of home-delved marble. Whereon lay figures of his race and name — Crusaders whose dead deeds no time can garble. Learning destroy, malignity defame: Legs crossed, feet resting against faithful hound. And, at their side, their dames and children kneeling round. 28 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LII Then would they wend them valeward to the river, And he cast line that neither curled nor sank. Round ran the reel, then the lithe rod would quiver. And May-fly trout lie gasping on the bank; Or, like a flying shadow through the stream. Startled, would pass to pool sheltered from noon- day gleam. LIII Which pleased her most, for sooth she thought sport cruel. Yet watched it for the sake of his rare skill. But happiest when asudden winged jewel. The king-fisher, disturbed near rustic mill, Darted, and deep into its nest withdrew. Shortly to issue forth, and, flickering, raid anew. 29 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LIV So passed the days unnoticed and uncounted, As louder, longer, later, piped the merle. And cuckoo oftener called, if harsher throated. And hawthorn decked itself with loops of pearl. It seemed a world reborn without its woes: Woodbine was in the lanes, and everywhere the rose. LV All things that are in that seductive season In them struck root and with them got entwined ; Looking before or after had seemed treason To the free heart and unconditioned mind. As daily tightened beyond time's control That strongest of all ties, the kinship of the soul. 30 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LVI And deeper into bliss they wandered blindly, While woe and wet winds kept from them aloof, As from screened homestead visitings unkindly. Where old-world windows under gabled roof Seem gazing at the present from the past. And wondering how long such happiness will last. LVII Ah me! the days of Summer, not of Winter, The shortest are, and swiftest glide away. And leaves of Autumn, sober mezzotinter, Linger far longer than the blooms of May. Time that, when fledged by joy, finds wings to fly. With Sorrow for its load limps slowly, wearily. 31 $ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LVIII One evening as they watched the sunset fading, "To strangers Avoncourt must never pass. For that would be dishonoring and degrading," Thinking aloud, he said. "Withal, alas! Sit by its hearth they must, and much I fear That there they must abide for many a coming year. LIX " No fault of mine nor yet of those now sleeping In tombs ancestral. Unrelenting time. That hath the future in its unseen keeping. Hath lowered the lofty, let the lowly climb, And swept away the sustenance of my home. What is there that endures? Go ask of Greece or Rome. 32 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LX " MuUion from sill, transom from beam, is cracking, Beauty and majesty their only stay; And, save new wealth supply what now is lacking, These, too, in turn will slowly pass away. And I must save and strive in duteous ways. So irksome felt by most in these luxurious days." LXI " There is another way, some deem a duty, None call unworthy," slowly she replied. " Women there be, gifted with charm and beauty, On whom hath fortune lavished wealth beside." " I am not made like that," he firmly said ; " I but for love alone should ever woo or wed." 3 33 A TALE OF TRUE LOVE LXII And, as he said it, on her face he centred Strong, tender gaze, as though to search her soul, Which straight so deep into her being entered. She felt a current beyond will's control. Crimsoning, she turned aside, and thus confessed The secret she had thought to hide within her breast LXIII Out of a cloud long gathering burst a flashing, Followed by thunder's discontented sound; And straight they heard slow, big, round rain- drops plashing On the green leaves o'erhead and emerald ground. " Hark ! I must hasten home," she said, " before The storm-wrack breaks." — " And I will see you to your door." 34 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXIV All through the morrow much he seemed to ponder. And oft would halt and gaze upon the ground, Or look out fixedly on something yonder, Unseen by others, which at last he found. And then strode quickly on, since he had solved The doubt that would die out oftener the years revolved, LXV " Yes, for she hath that higher understanding That routs Life's phantoms with a fearless face. And knows, when spectral enemies throng banding. The good from bad, the noble from the base. To-morrow will I offer, ask for, all Love, Faith, and Hope can give, whatever else befall." 35 1^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXVI But on the morrow came she not. More lonely, Wandering, he felt than ever heretofore; Nor on the morrow's morrow, and he only Could wait her will, nor wend unto their door Till wearily some doubtful days crept on. And then the farmstead sought, to find its guests had gone! LXVII Gone three days back, and none knew why or whither. Then he with promptitude unleashed his mind, In search for trace, now hither and now thither. But trace or tidings nowhere could he find. Still unremittingly he sought: in vain Was search within our shore, was search beyond the main. 36 3^ H^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXVIII Slowly the glory from the Summer faded. And ominously leaves began to fall; And ever and anon harsh gusts invaded Avoncourt, moaning through deserted hall, And roaring wofuUy up chimney wide; And mute the deer-hound clung unto her master's side, LXIX Or gazed at him with sad look sympathetic, As though it, too, missed what its master missed. " Ah, Lufra !" said he, in a voice prophetic, " She is gone, and we shall never see her more. Cling you to me, and I will take you where Wander awhile I must, wherever I may fare. 37 g^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXX " No more than you can I unmask the meaning Of hapless things that baffle mortal vows." Then, sighing, saw he white-haiired Winter glean- ing Amid the crackling drift and fallen boughs That lay on avenue, chase, and garden garth. Fuel to feed faint flame upon her widowed hearth. LXXI He was not one of those who love to wrangle Before the populace for place and power. Or fight for wealth with weapons that but strangle The nobler passions, manhood's richest dower. "I will return when wound shall less be felt, And work among my folk, dwelling where once she dwelt." 38 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXII Farewell he took of wood-reeve, keeper, ranger, And tenants grave with grief, and some in tears. And order gave that Avoncourt to stranger Be leased for maybe many coming years; Then crossed the vigilant, unsleeping sea That ranges round our isle, to keep it great and free. LXXIII He lingered not in that vain-glorious city Whose rulers pass the sceptre to the crowd, But wended to the land where amorous ditty By swain at work to maid is sung aloud; Where life is simple, and unchanging ways Of tillage still recall loved Virgil's rustic lays; 39 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXIV Where on majestic pedestals the mighty Marble imaginings of Art august — Thought-wrinkled Zeus and dimpled Aphrodite — Exact our homage and command our trust: Immortal gods whose never-ending sway Rebellion cannot shake nor scoffing sweep away. LXXV And in that high companionship he slowly Stifled his sighs and cicatrized his wound, And, with the griefs the lofty and the lowly Alike must feel, his share of pain attuned- More willingly, i* may be, since he knew He unto love and loss would evermore keep true. 40 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXVI Ofttimes he stood by shrines where peasants kneeling Told of their sorrows to the Mother-Maid, Unto celestial sympathy appealing From the world's pitiless splendor and parade; And in that sight he resignation found, With sun, and sea, and sky, and mountain-peaks around. LXXVII So that, when nigh upon a year had vanished. Homeward his longing and his looks were cast, Feeling 'twere base to longer stay self-banished. Grafting his future on a fruitless past. And soon his steadfast journeying came to close, Where Avoncourt amid its unchanged wood- lands rose. 41 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXVIII It had meanwhile been leased to lately wedded Tenants, unknown to fame, but well endowed With what could rescue it from fate so dreaded Of slow decay and ruin-mantling shroud. And who already had done much to win Its walls from storm without and worm and moth within. LXXIX So, as in duty bound, he promptly started From home prepared for him on his estate. With cheerful step if somewhat heavy-hearted, To visit those who lived within his gate; Ascending through the woodland's winding ways, That wore more careful mien than in the bygone days. 42 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXX It was the dawn of Autumn, very season When he from further search for her forbore, Whom to forget had seemed to him a treason. Though well he knew he ne'er should see her more. Sound, sight, scent, yellowing elm, and cone- crowned fir. Sunshine and shade alike, reminded him of her. LXXXI But, resolute to curb regret, he entered. And, led through hall and corridor, he wound To long ancestral gallery, and centred His curious gaze on what he saw around. It seemed to have lost no look of days gone by. Withal to blend young smile with ancient majesty. 43 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXXII Still on the walls the efiigies ancestral. In armor or in ermine, hung unchanged. With the device of wild boar, wolf, or kestrel, That once in English forests freely ranged; With later draperies that seemed to bring Distance more near and shed a grace round everything. LXXXIII While gazing out on well-remembered garden, Where old yew hedges screened new -planted rose. Against whose beauty none his heart could harden. He heard a door soft open and then close. And, turning, saw Egeria, with a face Pale as a moon that moves alone through lonely space. 44 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXXIV " Are you a guest," he said, " in my poor dwell- ing?" "I am," she answered, "your — your tenant's wife. Hear me in patience, dear, while I am telling What tell I must, but tell this once for life." Whe^at they towards each other drew more near: One spoke, one listened, both without a sob or tear. LXXXV " I loved, I love you. Noble since I know you. Here I confess that I shall love you still; Since you will never show me nor I show you More tenderness than now, for such God's will. Knowing I should, love once avowed, rejoice. Should not refuse your love, could not resist your voice, 45 |( ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE 0^ ^ LXXXVI " From you I fled, and steadfast left behind me No word to weaken you, no sign, no trace. Whereby your manliness could, following, find me. For well I knew, that day your face my face Scanned in strong silence, probing to my heart. Love once confessed, no power could keep our lives apart. LXXXVII " And well, too well, I knew, for all things told me. Men's tongues, the air, I thus should wreck your life. And Avoncourt reproachfully behold me A selfish bride and paralyzing wife ; That duty had decreed a harder fate For you, for me. If wrong, I know the right too late. 46 HI H^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ LXXXVIII " In innocency's life there comes an hour When stands revealed what it could never guess : That there is magical and m3rstic power To make love strong or leave it powerless; If felt, if given without one selfish thought, That love is Wisdom's self, and all beside is naught. LXXXIX " Ask me no more, I beg, than what I tell you : I am your tenant, at another's will. How, wherefore, when, or that which then befell, you. Though I be mute, will understand me still. Forgive, but ne'er forget me. Now depart. Till to endurance Time shall mellowed have the smart." 47 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XC Her hand she stretched towards him, and, low bending. On it his lips he reverently laid. As on some sacred relic pilgrims wending From far-off land with faith still undecayed. Then he went forth, and she remained alone. Stern duty unassailed upon its sovran throne. XCI But with the morrow's dawn there came the tidings How that a crafty, freedom-loathing race. Its schemes unmasked, had come from out its hidings. And flung defiance in its suzerain's face. Then on his open territories burst. Proclaiming these annexed unto its rule accursed. 48 ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XCII Then England said, " I must endure no longer This long-conspiring, now presumptuous brood. But must assert the sceptre of the stronger Against their vaporings vain and challenge rude, Who have against me their false flag unfurled. Urged to their ruin by an empire - envying world." XCIII Nor England only, nor main-moated Britain, But their brave offspring homed beyond the sea, In righteous wrath arose, and, duty-smitten. Vowed that their Afric brethren should be free To think and speak the thing they would, and dwell Equal and safe around Law's peaceful citadel. 4 49 A TALE OF TRUE LOVE XCIV Then said Sir Alured, "Against such foemen I too will ride and strike," and round him drew All Avoncourt's hard-knit, well-mounted yeomen And to his lands ancestral bade adieu. Beneath him seethed the waters no one barred, Over the wave-wide track our steel-shod sen- tries guard. XCV And day by day Egeria scans and watches The ebb and flow of fluctuating war. And ofttimes sees his name in terse despatches Shine among those that most distinguished are. Then pride and terror in her heart contend, And low she prays anew, " Dear God ! his life befriend!" SO ^ ^ A TALE OF TRUE LOVE ^ ^ XCVI And when she reads of some fresh deed of daring That decorates his breast and crowns his brow, Sparing of others, of himself unsparing, She weeps apart where no one sees. But now This Tale of True Love hath been truly told. May it by some be read, and by it some con- soled ! SI IN THE FORUM I I HE last warm gleams of sunset fade ' From cypress spire and stone- pine dome. And, in the twilight's deepening shade. Lingering, I scan the wrecks of Rome. II Husht the Madonna's evening bell; The steers lie loosed from wain and plough; The vagrant monk is in his cell. The meek nun-novice cloistered now. 55 ^ IN THE FORUM III Pedant's presumptuous voice no more Vexes the spot where Caesar trod, And o'er the pavement's soundless floor Come banished priest and exiled God. IV The lank-ribbed she-wolf, couched among The regal hill-side's tangled scrubs. With doting gaze and fondling tongue Suckles the vestal's twin-born cubs. V Yet once again Evander leads ^neas to his wattled home, And, throned on Tiber's fresh-cut reeds, Talks of burnt Troy and rising Rome. 56 IN THE FORUM VI From out the tawny dusk one hears The half-feigned scream of Sabine maids, The rush to arms, then swift the tears That separate the clashing blades. VII The lictors with their fasces throng To quell the commons' rising roar. As TuUia's chariot flames along. Splashed with her murdered father's gore. VIII Her tresses free from band or comb. Love-dimpled Venus, lithe jmd tall. And fresh as Fiumicino's foam. Mounts her pentelic pedestal. 57 IN THE FORUM IX With languid lids and lips apart, And curving limbs like wave half-furled, Unarmed she dominates the heart, And without sceptre sways the world. X Nerved by her smile, avenging Mars Stalks through the Forum's fallen fanes. Or, changed of mien and healed of scars. Threads sylvan slopes and vineyard plains. XI With waves of song from wakening lyre Apollo routs the wavering night. While, parsley-crowned, the white-robed choir Wind chanting up the sacred height, 58 IN THE FORUM ^ XII Where Jove, with thunder-garlands wreathed. And crisp locks frayed like fretted foam. Sits with his lightnings half unsheathed. And frowns against the foes of Rome. XIII You cannot kill the gods. They still Reclaim the thrones where once they reigned, Rehaunt the grove, remount the rill. And renovate their rites profaned. XIV Diana's hounds still lead the chase. Still Neptune's trident crests the sea. And still man's spirit soars through space On feathered heels of Mercury. 59 IN THE FORUM ^ ^ XV No flood can quench the vestals' fire; The flamen's robes are still as white As ere the Salii's armored choir Were drowned by droning anchorite. XVI The saint may seize the siren's seat, The shaveling frown where frisked the Fayn; Ne'er will, though all beside should fleet. The Olympian Presence be withdrawn. XVII Here, even in the noontide glare. The gods, recumbent, take their ease; Go look, and you will find them there. Slumbering behind some fallen frieze. 60 IN THE FORUM XVIII But most, when sunset glow hath paled, And come, as now, the twilight hour. In vesper vagueness dimly veiled I feel their presence and their power. XIX What though their temples strew the ground, And to the ruin owls repair. Their home, their haunt, is all around; They drive the cloud, they ride the air. XX And, when the planets wend their way Along the never-aging skies, "Revere the gods," I hear them say; " The gods are old, the gods are wise." 6i IN THE FORUM XXI Build as man may, Time gnaws and peers Through marble fissures, granite rents; Only Imagination rears Imperishable monuments. XXII Let Gaul and Goth pollute the shrine. Level the altar, fire the fane: There is no razing the divine; The gods return, the gods remain. Rome, 1899 62 » » POLYPHEMUS The Cyclops, Polyphemus, son of Neptune and Thoosa, dwelt alone in a cavern on the slopes of Mount Etna, and passionately loved the nymph Galatea. But she loved, and was loved by, the beautiful shepherd boy Acis, and sported with him on the mountain and in the sea. Polyphemus, in a transport of ungovernable jealousy, sought to destroy both by hurling on them a rock torn from the flanks of Etna. But the gods interposed, and changed Galatea into a mermaid and Acis into a hill -side stream, so that the twain might never be separated. POLYPHEMUS HERE lurk they now? Either in some green grot. With cool, moist mosses overhung, that drink From slowly -welling, never-waning wave 5 65 POLYPHEMUS The freshness of their sustenance; or hid In the snug hollow of some rounded bole, Chestnut or pine, whose heart corroding time Hath pared away, leaving the knotted rind For shelter against sunshine, wind, or rain. The weather's wantonness; or, haply, couched Under the veil of newly-wedded vine. And, like its lissome tendrils, interlaced The one within the other, palm with palm. And fingers feeling fondly round the throat And underneath the tresses, smooth - skinned pair. Whom unforeseeing heedlessness of love And insolicitude of youth enthrall, To one vague purpose by themselves unguessed. Still pasturing on the flowery sweets of life. I see them neither on the hill nor yet Down in the vale, nor on the dimpled beach, Nor sporting with the dolphins in the wave: 65 POLYPHEMUS ^ Though this one orb crafty Ulysses seared. By Neptune's healing potency restored, From mainland unto mainland wandereth wide, Scanning each dip and dingle of the isle, And every ridge and roller of the sea. Well, better thus! Did I behold them now, In noonday heat, their ruddy lips as close As cherry unto cherry on one stem. Their eyes one long, unseparating gaze, Not all the snows on Etna would allay The fever of my longing." GALATEA " Follow me, Acis, follow me, follow, Over the hillock and down by the hollow! Follow me, follow, where musk-rose and myrtle Entangle my tresses and catch in my kirtle; 67 POLYPHEMUS Onward where cistus and cyclamen mingle. And hemlock and asphodel gleam in the dingle, Down to the dip where the brook bends and babbles. The water-hen nests, and her callow brood dabbles ; Under the labyrinth hazel-nut cover. Follow me, follow, my light-footed lover! Thence to the open where sunlight is sweeter, And there we will prove which is lither and fleeter. Past the bruised rosemary look for and find me; Track me and trace by the fragrance behind me. See! I am breathless; so hither, and hold me, And close to your tenderness fondle and fold me. This is the oldest and sweetest of blisses. To be followed, and caught, and pay forfeit of kisses ; So follow me, follow!" 68 POLYPHEMUS ^ POLYPHEMUS " The shadows on the silent hill-side stretch Longer and darker, and more sharp and clear The smokeless cone of Etna cleaves the air, And soon from snowy breast to brow will flush Pink as the rose in Galatea's cheek. I must go gather up my goats, and press The stream from out the heavy-uddered ewes Loud-bleating for relief. A bubbling bowl Of vesper milk would cozen any maid, Any but Galatea, to my side. While I, myself imperious Neptune's son. To her recounted legendary tales Of demigod and nymph when Love was young. Ah! Love is always young, and I am old; And any beardless stripling casts a spell Of fresh enchantment round the nubile heart That I with all my cunning cannot weave. 69 ^ POLYPHEMUS To be so wise, withal so little loved! We blossom for ourselves, we fruit for others! Nothing avails my knowledge, nor the years Of intercourse with those elusive powers That underlie the semblances we see, Whereby I somewhat to the heart have pierced Of Nature and Necessity, and wrung Toll of tfieir secrets. What is left me else. Weary of insurrection 'gainst the gods — The far-off, calm, invulnerable gods, Seiiling supine on thunder-sheeted clouds And canopied by the unpropped dome of heaven? Could I to one high purpose fix my mind. And, when my flock were browsing 'mong the crags, Or folded for the night, forget my youth And those desires, the dregs of bygone joy. That youth, no longer sparkling, leaves to age. 70 ^ POLYPHEMUS The stars my sole companions and the herbs Culled in the secret places, and pursue With passionless resolve the steadfast search, In planet and in simple, for the key Of the world's central government, and store In deathless verse for famishing mankind The harvest of my reaping, I might then Bless silent, slow, unsympathizing Time That on my brow accumulates the years To crown them with tranquillity. But now I have all the snows of Etna on my head. And all its panting furnace in my heart. Where are they now? Did I but penetrate To the recesses of their amorous bliss, I, with one blast from this volcanic breast. Should strew their fondlings on the blackened coils Of lava down the hill-side." 71 ^ ^ POLYPHEMUS ACIS " Wake, Galatea, now wake from your dreaming! On beach and on breaker the moonlight is streaming. Down in the lucent tide mermaids are singing, And the sea-weed above them is swaying and swinging ! Melody rises and rolls through the shingle. Where sweet wave and salt wave have meeting and mingle. Sweetest one, fleetest one, fleetest and fairest. Come where the black rocks are bleakest and barest. But curve for your coming 'twixt billow and billow The softest of couches, with foam -fringe for pillow ! Through the wave,'neath the wave, over and over. 72 ggt ^ ^ POLYPHEMUS ^ ^ ^ Dive where the coral gleams pink as the clover I gathered and gave you from Proserpine's garden, When Love had displeased you, and prayed you for pardon. Wake from your dreaming and haste to the haven, Where smoothly with gold sand the sea-fioor is paven. Loosen your girdle, and lengthen your tresses, And glide through the water that curls and caresses. Float we and flow we, but moved by its motion. Till we and the moonlight are one with the ocean. Wake, Galatea!" POLYPHEMUS " Now is the hour when most I feel how lone It is to be a bastard of the gods, 73 POLYPHEMUS Not wholly human, yet not quite divine, Celestially fathered, yet shut out From the serene of heaven! While I range The pathless labyrinth of forest pines. Laden with logwood for my cavern hearth; Climb the rough crags betwixt whose smooth, green flanks The adventurous goats browse wayward; or descend. Driving them home before my voice; or rive Time-toughened oaks for virgin honeycomb. Dripping with golden sweetness; or with care Curdle the autumn milk in shelving bowls For winter sustenance; then I forget The god within me, and on task intent That needs but mortal energy I live. Human at every pore, a man — ^no more. But now my flock are folded safe within, And in the snow-cold larder of my cave 74 POLYPHEMUS ^ Is store for morrow's nourishment ; and lo ! Up from the wave roUeth the rounded moon, To wend her silent, uncompanioned way Monotonous through heaven; and with her mounts The Olympian ichor in my veins, to wake Ancestral longings. Nymphs as fair as she Whom strenuous Neptune forcibly bewitched To be my mother, willingly to me In adolescent days subdued their hearts And sported with my strength, for I could bear. Ay, and could carry still, their flimsy forms Straight up the lava loops, and let them gaze Into the jaws of Etna! That sleek pair, Who flout me with their fondlings, I could ride One upon either shoulder, round and round The various isle, plain, pasture, promontory. Orchard, and sun-burnt bluff, or thuswise wade 75 S^ ^ ^ POLYPHEMUS ^ ^ ^ Through torrents raging with the melted snow From norward rampart ranges. But they love Only to toy and trifle in the vale. Heaven is too lofty for their dwarf desires. And I too vast for puny purposes." ACIS " Are you there, Galatea?" GALATEA " Yes, here in the moonlight, Where the wave is as bright as the beach in the noonlight." ACIS " You are brighter than either. I cannot descry you From radiant ripple, until I come nigh you. 76 ^ ^ ^ POLYPHEMUS I lose you, I find you, again you grow dimmer. Till round me seems nothing but shadow and shimmer. 'Tis your golden-rayed ringlets that baffle and blind me." GALATEA " Float unto my voice, dear, and there you will find me. Here, lock we our hands, love, and float we to- gether. Or cling, if you will, to my tresses for tether. We are one upon land, be we one on the breaker !" ACIS "Who found Galatea could never forsake her." GALATEA " Dear Acis, my Acis ! Now wed we our voices, And sing with the surge as it roams and rejoices. 77 ^ ^ POLYPHEMUS There are moonbeams below us, and moonbeams above us, And the stars in the heavens look down on and love us." ACIS "O fair Galatea!" GALATEA " My fond, faithful Acis!" POLYPHEMUS "Hark! 'Twas her voice, upsoaring from the sea! The twain are riding on the moonlit foam. As is their wont when rolls the rising moon A radiant roadway right athwart the wave, For fatuous fancy's forward-running feet To journey to the goal of its desires. 78 POLYPHEMUS See, there they float enamoured, hand in hand, Rising and falling with the heaving tide As it subsides or surges. Save her voice Guided my vision, I had now not felt The torture of their transports, nor discerned Which is her billowy beauty, which the wave. Now, by the mighty and majestic gods. And that wide-weltering if lesser god. My sea-subduing father, why should I, Who have the thunders at my beck, and forge In my fuliginous smithy bolts for Jove, Live mocked to moaning by that puny pair, When I from Etna's bulging flanks could wrench, As, by my pangs unbearable, will I now, This many-rooted rock, and straightway heave Destruction on their dallying." ACIS Oh, Where's Galatea?" 79 POLYPHEMUS ^ ^ GALATEA " Deep down in the wave, Where the love-loving gods have submerged me, to save. I am one with the mermaidens, one with the main. Shall no more be your playmate on pasture and plain ; The flower-fields of Enna will see me no more, I may float to the sea -weed, but not to the shore. Come there to me, Acis! I never can be Immortal, save, dearest, immortal with theel" ACIS " I am htx.t on the hill-side, in hidden ravine. Where the mosses are moist and the maiden- hair green. 80 POLYPHEMUS ^ ^ I am suckled by snow-bosoms warmed by the sun, Through the reeds and the rushes I ripple and run. I, too, am immortal, I never can fail; If my source is the summit, my bourne is the vale. I am coming, am coming, on hastening feet. That the sweet wave and salt wave may mingle and meet; To your mermaiden-music hill-music will bring From the full founts of summer and freshets of spring. We together shall glide, we together shall gleam. For you are my Siren, and I am your Stream; From your fondness my fondness no hatred can sever, I shall lap you, and lave you, and love you r forever. Beloved Galatea!" Written at Aci Reale, Sicily, December, 1898. 6 81 A BORDER BURN HERE autumn runnels fret and foam Past banks of amber fern. Since track was none I chanced to roam Along a Border Burn. II The rain was gone, the winds were furled. No cloud was in the sky. So that there seemed in all the world Only the strecun and I. 85 ^ A BORDER BURN III At length upon a gray-green stone I sate me down to dream, Till, with its flow familiar grown, I thus addressed the stream: IV " Dear Border Burn, that had your birth Where hills stand bright and high. Whose lowlier parent is the earth, Whose loftier the sky; V "Half heavenly, therefore, in your source, Withal to man akin. Betraying by your wajrward course Your mingled origin; 86 A BORDER BURN VI " Why, in a scene so fair as this, Not linger while you may. And lengthen out unchided bliss In childlike holiday? VII " Encircled here by native hills. And fringed by wilding flowers. With all your playmate sister rills To while away the hours. VIII "Past glowing heather, silvery sedge. You hurry on, and on. Rush at the rock, then leap the ledge. All eager to be gone. 87 ^ ^ A BORDER BURN IX "For you the mavis thrills the brake. For you the laverocks soar. And even snow and sleet but make You dance and sing the more. X " The water-ouzels dip and shoot Amid your flashing spray, Where flapping heron, skimming coot. Forage and pair and play. XI " The forest doe forsakes the hill. Companioned by her fawn. In your clear pools to drink her fill. As darkness yields to dawn. 88 A BORDER BURN XII " When meadows gleam with burnished gold, Some tender-bosomed maid Comes down from far-off manse or fold, And, under birchen shade, XIII " Trembles to tale of manhood brave. Of courtship long and sweet, And sometimes in your freshening wave Will dip her dainty feet; XIV " And, deaf to sound from neighboring glen Of summer-cooing doves. Hear but your voice, and deem it then The voice of him she loves. 89 A BORDER BURN XV " And, be the season keen or kind, Frowning or fair the sky. The poet, with his musing mind. Hither will ofttimes hie. XVI "And listening, lost among the fern. To murmur sweet or strong. Now not less strong than sweet, doth learn To modulate his song. XVII "And, thiis attuned to every string. Nature is skilled to strike. Mellows the thoughts that comfort bring To glad and sad alike. 90 0^ ^ ^ A BORDER BURN ^ ^ ^ XVIII " Friends fond and faithful such as these Why do you long to leave For scenes that, since untried, can please. But lure you to deceive? XIX "The forward quest, the feverish chase, Foul city, venal mart. Will cloud the fairness of your face And desecrate your heart. XX " Here betwixt fern and flower you still Can wind and wander free; There granite banks will curb your will And chain your liberty." 91 A BORDER BURN ^ XXI I ceased. But though I paused to learn, No answer seemed to come, And, save an onward-bickering burn. All now again was dumb. XXII It rolled and rippled, swept and swirled, No other sound was nigh; So that there seemed, in all the world. Only the stream and I. XXIII But, like the babbled words that make The mother's heart rejoice. Slowly the stream's soul seemed to wake And find a human voice, 92 ^ ^ f^ A BORDER BURN ^ ^ ^ XXIV Till, waxing stronger and more clear Still as it rushed along, Its answer sounded on mine ear, Lucid as poet's song: XXV "Here was I born, here nursed and bred. From here shall carry still Something of moor and bracken-bed. Something of heath and hill. XXVI " Yet, like to you, who suckled first Where becks through bowlders wind, ' In youth from loving bondage burst And left your home behind. 93 A BORDER BURN XXVII " To seek the far-off larger life Where mind to mind contends. On peaceful fields, in generous strife. To further loftier ends; XXVIII " So do I quit my native hills, Red rowan, hawthorn pearled, My brother braes, my sister rills. To find a wider world. XXIX "And, with a half-reluctant heart. Leave dingle, dale, and wood, To bear a meek but manly part In burdened brotherhood. 94 A BORDER BURN XXX " Why should I selfishly remain A simple mountain stream, Or shrink because some earthly stain Cloudeth each heavenly dream? XXXI " Chide me not, then, nor seek to stay The current of my soul. Though conflict check or chafe my way. The Ocean is my goal; XXXII " Where I from sea to sea shall ride. Shall roll from shore to shore, And with the Universal Tide Be one for evermore; 95 A BORDER BURN ^ ^ ^ XXXIII " Yet, by Heaven's law of love allowed Revolving, to return. Wafted by wind and borne on cloud. Still be a Border Burn," 96 BEATRICE |iHE came into the April air I And passed across the silvery lawn; ''Blithe was her voice, her brow was bare. And rippled from her radiant hair The glow and glory of the dawn. Her footfall scared nor doe nor fawn; No timid songster ceased to sing; But, wheresoe'er she strayed or stood, Her maiden coming seemed to bring A wider wonder to the wood. And more of magic to the spring. 99 BEATRICE ^ II When June is throned, and round her blows The rambling briar and lily tall, I saw her watch the buds unclose. Herself, herself the loveliest rose. And stateliest lily of them all. The blackbirds' fluting, cuckoo's call. She scarcely heard, for trembled near, And thrilled her wheresoe'er she strayed. That note more deep, that voice more dear. That lures to love the listening maid. When half is fondness, half is fear. Ill Among the rows of ripened sheaves, And orchard harvests golden-red, 100 BEATRICE The tapestry that autumn weaves From fallen fruit and fading leaves, Pensive she paced with matron tread. Low was her voice, but all she said Seemed strangely true and deeply wise; And mute her offspring gathered round, To gaze into her tranquil eyes And listen to the sacred sound Of mellow words and meek replies. IV Now by the wintry hearth she sits. Gray guardian of the household fire. Foretells the future, as she knits. Then back her loving memory flits To bygone days and dead desire. Anon her fingers seem to tire, lOI BEATRICE ^ ^ And weary sense to droop its wing; . But, though her gaze hath feebler grown, Nor knows she what the children sing. She sees the Lamb before the Throne And hears the angels canticling. 102 WINTER ^OW in the woodlands from the creaking boughs ' The last sere leaves are loosened and unstrung, Where once the tender honeysuckle clung, And faithful mavis fluted to his spouse. Already dreaming of her winter drowse, And brooding dimly on her unborn young. The dormouse rakes the beechmast, and among The matted roots the moldwarp paws and ploughs. Over the furrows brown and pastures gray The melancholy plovers flap and plain; 105 ^ ^ WINTER S^ f^ i^ And, along shivering pool and sodden lane, As lower droop the lids of dying day. Like to a disembodied soul in pain, The homeless wind goes wailing all the way. io6 FLORENCE i86i-i8gg FLORENCE 1861-1899 |ITY acclaimed from far-off days Fair, and baptized in field of flowers, Once more I scan, with eager gaze, Your soaring domes, your storied towers. II Nigh on eight lustres now have flown Since first with trembling heart I came. And, girdled by your mountain zone, Found you yet fairer than your fame. 109 FLORENCE ^ ^ III It was the season purple-sweet. When figs are plucked and grapes are pressed, And all your folk with following feet Bore a dead poet to sacred rest.* IV You seemed to fling your gates ajar. And gently lead me by the hand. Saying, " Behold ! henceforth you are No stranger in this Tuscan land." V And though no love my love can wean From Albion's crags and cradling sea. You, Florence, since that hour, have been More than a foster-nurse to me. * September, 1861. Gio7anni Niccolini. Buried in Santa Croce. 110 FLORENCE ^ VI And seems that welcome half profaned, If, in your lap lain oft and long, I cherish to have something drained Of Dante's soul and Petrarch's song? VII But more than even Muse can give. Is Love, which, songless though we be. While the unloving jarring live. Makes life one long, sweet melody. VIII And you with love and friendship still Have teemed, as teem your hills with wine. And, through the seasons good or ill, Have made their mellow vintage mine. FLORENCE ^ IX But most, while Fancy yet was young. Yet timely cared no more to roam. You lent your tender Tuscan tongue To help me in my English home. X So now from soft Sicilian shore. And Tiber's sterner tide, I bring My autumn sheaves, to share once more The rapture of your rainbow spring. XI I, lingering in your palaced town, A sudden, 'neath some beetling pile, Catch sight of Dante's awful frown Or Vinci's enigmatic smile; 112 FLORENCE ^ XII Then, following olden footsteps, stroll To where, from May-day's mocking pyre, Savonarola's tortured soul Went up to Heaven in tongues of fire; XIII Or Buonarroti's godlike hand Made marble block from Massa's steep Dawn into day at his command, Or plunged it into night and sleep. XIV Onward I pass through radiant squares. And widening ways whose foliage shames Our leafless streets, to one that bears The best-beloved of English names, 8 113 FLORENCE fl^ 9^ 9^ XV And climb the white-veiled slopes arrayed In bridal bloom of peach and pear. While, 'neath the olive's phantom shade, Lupine and beanflower scent the air. XVI The wild-bees hum round golden bay. The green frog sings on fig-tree bole. And, see! down daisy-whitened way Come the slow steers and swaying pole. XVII The fresh-pruned vine-stems, curving, bend Over the peaceful wheaten spears. And with the glittering sunshine blend Their transitory April tears. 114 ^ ^ FLORENCE ^ ^ ^ XVIII O'er wall and trellis, trailed and wound. Hang roses blushing, roses pale; And, hark! what was that silvery sound? The first note of the nightingale. XIX Curtained, I close my lids and dream Of Beauty seen not but surmised. And, lulled by scent and song, I seem Immortally imparadised. XX When from the deep, sweet swoon I wake And gaze past slopes of grape and grain. Where Amo, like some lonely lake. Silvers the far-off seaward plain, "5 ^ FLORENCE XXI I see celestial sunset fires That lift us from this earthly leaven, And darkly silent cypress spires, Pointing the way from hill to heaven. XXII Then something more than mortal steals Over the wavering twilight air. And, messenger of nightfall, peals From each crowned peak a call to prayer. XXIII And now the last meek prayer is said. And, in the hallowed hush, there is Only a starry dome o'erhead. Propped by columnar cypresses. ii6 » » THE PASSING OF THE CENTURY I |0W shall we comfort the dying Year? Beg him to linger, or bid him go? The light in his eyes burns dim and low. His hands are clammy, his pulse beats slow. He wanders and mumbles, but doth not hear. The lanes are sodden, the leaf-drifts sere, And the wrack is weaving his shroud of white. Do you not see he is weary quite Of the languor of living, and longs for night? 119 ^ ^ PASSING OF THE CENTURY ^ ^ Lo! He is gone! Now lower him down In the snug-warm earth, 'neath the clods of brown And the buds of the winter aconite. II How shall we part with the bygone Year? Cover with cypress, or wreathe with bay? He will not heed what you do or say. He is deaf to to-morrow as yesterday. Why do you linger about his bier? He has gone to the ghostland, he is not here. We may go on our way, we may live and laugh. Round the banqueting blaze can feast and qua£F. The purple catafalque, stately staff, 120 g^ 1^ PASSING OF THE CENTURY ^ The dirges of sorrow, the songs of praise, And the costliest monument man can raise- Are but for the spirit's cenotaph. Ill Dust unto dust — ^he is dead — though he Was the last of the centuried years that flow. We know not wherefore, we never shall know, With the tide unebbing of Time, and go To the phantom shore of Eternity. Shadows to shadows, they flit and flee Across the face of the flaming sun. The vague generations, one by one. That never are ended, never begun. Where is the dome or the vault so vast As to coffin the bones of the perished Past, Save the limitless tomb of Oblivion? 121 ^ ^ PASSING OF THE CENTURY f^ ^ IV What tale would he tell, could the dead but speak? " I was born, as I died, amid wrath and smoke, When the war-wains rolled, and the cannons spoke, When the vulture's cry and the raven's croak Flapped hungrily over the dying shriek, And nothing was seen but a blood-red streak Betwixt lowering sky and leaden main; When slanted and slashed the rifles' rain Upon furrows whose harvest were sheaves of slain ; When the levin's glare by the thunder's crash Was bellowed, and ever 'twixt flash and flash The howl of the unspent hurricane." 122 |{^ ^ PASSING OF THE CENTURY ^ ^ V Let the dead discourse with the dead. So ask How best now to welcome the new-born Year. She is coming, is coming, and, lo! is here, With forehead and footstep that know not fear. She will shrink from no pleasure, evade no task. But there never was worn or veil or mask Like her frank, fair face and her candid soul. Do you fathom her thoughts, can you guess her goal. Her wajnvardness chasten, her fate control? She will wend with her doom, and that doom be ours; So greet her with carol and snow-white flowers. And crown her with Hope's own aureole. 123 ^ ^ PASSING OF THE CENTURY ^ ^ VI Yet mind her dawn of the dark, for she — She, too — ^must pass 'neath the lych-gate porch; And give to her keeping the vestal torch, That may ofttime smoulder, and sometimes scorch. But rebrightens and burns eternally: The beacon on land and the planet at sea. When the night is murk, and the mist is dense, To guide us whither, remind us whence, The Soul's sure lamp through the shades of sense. She must tread the unknown the dead years trod ; Though rugged the road, yet the goal is God, And the will of all-wise Omnipotence. 124 A ROYAL HOME-COMING November 2, 1901 A ROYAL HOME-COMING November 2, 1901 ^ELCOME, right welcome home, to these blest isles, Where, unforgotten, loved Victo- ria sleeps, But nov7 with happy pride your father smiles. Your mother weeps. II You went as came the swallow, homeward draw Now it hath vnnged its way to winters green ; But never swallow or wandering sea-bird saw What you have seen. 127 ^ ^ A ROYAL HOME-COMING ^ ^ III For you have circled the earth with pinions fleet, The seasons through, and everywhere a throng Of glowing hearts your coming trooped to greet With flowers and song. IV Over the unchanging sea eight changeful moons Have moved from shield to sickle, seed to sheaves. And twice a hundred dawns, a hundred noons, A hundred eves, V Waned to their slumber in the starlit night. And ever from land or lake, from wave or crag, From fixed or floating fort, you had in sight The British flag. 128 ^ ^ A ROYAL HOME-COMING ^ | VI And wider, farther, onward round the world. Scouring the Held or furrowing the sea. You found that emblem, which, where'er un- furled. Floats o'er the free: VII So that on man, and man's laborious hand, Nor manacle nor hindrance shall be laid, But mind with mind, and strand with generous strand, Contend and trade. VIII And, though the shade of treasonable strife Falls on our homes and theirs, you, wandering, saw, 9 129 ^ ^ A ROYA L HOME-COMING ^ ^ Young commonwealths you found, surging with life, Yet ruled by law: IX Whose blood, infused in ours in war's emprise, To vindicate one sceptre, sword, and tongue, — As ours perchance may help to keep them wise, — Hath made us young. X Foimtain of Youth England in mellower years Hath found and drained, so that she ne'er need know What Nature feels when autumn stacks and seres. Or Yule-gusts blow. 130 f^ ^ A ROYAL HOME-COMING ^ ^ XI You sailed from us to them, from them to us, Love at the prow and wisdom at the helm. August ambassadors who strengthen thus Her rule and realm. XII Round you to-day a people stand arrayed. That fain with peace two wedded worlds would dower, Therefore rejoicing mightier hath been made Imperial power. 131 SONNET ^OULD I but leave men wiser by my song, J And somewhat happier in their little day, Wean them from things that lure but to betray. Make the harsh gentle and the feeble strong. Shunning the paths where pride and folly throng. Then would I carol all the livelong day, And, as the golden sunset waned to gray. With vesper voice my twilight hour prolong. But now they hear me heedlessly, or pass. With hurrying steps, to pomp's ambitious strife, 135 ^ ^ SONNET ^ But with chagrin and disappointment rife, And shadows fleeting as one's breath on glass. Still with foiled feet and baffled hopes, alas! Lost in the long, vain labyrinth of life. 136 WINTER VIOLETS WINTER VIOLETS Lines laid on the Bier of Queen Victoria at Osborne, by permission of his Majesty the King. ERE are sad flowers, with wintry weeping wet, Dews of the dark that drench the violet. Thus over her, whom death yet more endears. Nature and man together blend their tears. January 25, 1901. THE END 139