WILLIAM R. PERKINS LIBRARY DUKE UNIVERSITY GIFT OF LILLIAN S. STEVENSON TO THE LIONEL STEVENSON COLLECTION THE TENTH MUSE AND OTHER POEMS n " .{la^ob- /,//?* v THE TENTH MUSE AND OTHER POEMS SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I. AUTHOR OF "THE LIGHT OF ASIA," "THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD," ETC. LONDON LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. AND NEW YORK 1895 All rights reserved Panted by Bali.antvne, Hanson & Co. At the ]>allantyne Press fr7 ©efcfcatefc TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUCHESS OF YORK CONTENTS DUCHESS THE TENTH MUSE THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD ON THE DEATH OF LORD TENNYSON WRITTEN IN THE BIRTHDAY ROOK OF H.I.'.H OF YORK CRATHIE CHURCH THE STORY OF THE SNAKE SOHNI MY GUESTS POEMS OF JAPAN— A JAPANESE LOVER SOME JAPANESE "UTA' — A MOTHER'S EPITAPH ON HER DEAD BOY AGED NINE YEARS. THE SADNESS OF LOVELINESS . PRAISE OF KIYOTO IN SPRING . PLUM-TREES IN A SPRTNG-8TOBM THE VANITY OF BEAUTY . A QUESTION .... THE MOUNTAIN CHERRY THE FAITHFUL FLOWKBS SPRING RAIN MIGRATING WILDFOWL WILD FOWL. THE LAST OF SPRING SEPARATION PAGE 3 19 42 44 45 51 69 77 85 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 VI 11 CONTENTS THE FAITHFUL WIFE . THE TIMID LOVER AT THE MEETING-PLACE . A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA . FROM THE PERSIAN - THE FOIL FIRST QHAZALfl <>F HAF1Z GHAZAL I. GHAZAL II. GHAZAL III, GHAZAL IV. WHY THE POET IS OF GOOD CHEER ROSES FROM S'ADl'S " ROSE-GARDEN " THE WORLD GREATNESS . LEAN BUT LEARNED A LEADER . CONTENTMENT . THE SAME . BEGINNINGS INCONGRUITIES . LOST LABOURS . OBSCURE ENEMIES DISCRIMINATION FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY" OF AT COURT . FAMILIARITY HOPELESS LOVE BEAUTY WILFULNESS THE TEST . A DIFFERED CE THE PASSION OF THE SOUL A JAPANESE SOLDIER THE "GULISTAN PAGE lOO IOI 102 I05 121 123 127 131 133 137 137 138 139 139 I40 I40 141 I 4 I 142 142 '45 146 147 147 148 148 149 151 THE TENTH MUSE THE TENTH MUSE COMPOSED FOR A PRESS ANNIVERSARY In stately classic time Who built the lofty rhyme — While yet his hand wandered along the lyre. While the loud prelude lingered, And each quick string he fingered, Not finding fitting outburst of his fire — Then would he raise First notes of prayer and praise To those great daughters of Mnemosyne — The high immortal Nine — And, swift ! the whispered line Leapt to his lip,-— commanding, sounding, free. 3 THE TENTH MUSE II. Yet I, to-day, Neither to praise nor pray. Sweet Muses! with your sacred names begin This, my unusual song ; • But if ye still live, strong, Somewhere on heights which poet's verse can reach ; If still with mortal eyes ye may be seen By some new Hippocrene — Some later, nearer Aganippe's fountain — Then listen, and with sister-arms en-ring Her whom we bring Up the steep slope of your celestial mountain. III. Clio ! whose tablets keep — That Gods may laugh and weep — Full record of men's wars and loves below : 4 THE TENTH MUSE Euterpe ! with the pipe Set to that rosebud ripe Of thy Greek mouth, some lovely strain to blow ; Thalia ! laughing as the stroller's task Fits on the comic mask ; And sad Melpomene, with tragic eyes, And drawn glaive's glittering blade ; Thou, too, Heav'n's pensive maid, Star-crowned Urania ! rapt in mysteries ! IV. And thou, soft Erato ! From throat of snow Murmuring a love-verse to the chorded shell ; And grave Calliope, Of epic scrolls to be Deep-meditating how the strain shall swell ; Polymnia ! cheek on hand Pillowed, while slow and grand 5 THE TENTH MUSE The storming organs thunder chant and hymn ; Terpsichore ! whose feet Shine whiter while they beat The white wind-flowers by Helicon's green rim. V. With bended brow and knee Here bring we, fair to see, And grown to Grecian stateliness and grace, Her whom we serve alway By night, by day, In diverse tongues and many a peopled place : Not grudging among men From toil of brain and pen, The largest she shall ask us, nor the least, So praise come to her name, And power, and fame, And North and South may hail her — West and East. THE TENTH MUSE VI. High Muses ! be not slow Her rights to know Who comes to sit on the Pierian Hill, Turning your Nine to Ten ; For — born, albeit, of men — She, by her high emprise, is Goddess still. The Tenth Muse treads to-day This lofty way, Not less than ye of Heav'n — divine no less ; Room ! ye who proudly dwell Here on the asphodel ! Your youngest sister greet, the modern PRESS. VII. Nay ! start not, Erato ! Sweet music doth not flow Freer for thee than her, when she bids sing ; 7 THE TENTH MUSE And, Clio ! look ! she lacks Neither thy stele, nor wax, To write the tale of all things happening ; Euterpe ! piping soft — Thy chosen poets oft Pour their melodious souls upon her page ; And, light Thalia ! thou Dimpling such mouth and brow, Laugh'st side by side with her, on every stage. VIII. Melpomene ! to thine Her thoughts incline Where, o'er the boards, the tragic players pass When, in the mimic scene, Warrior, and knight, and queen, And woes, and wars, and fates their image glass ; Like thee, by night — by noon — Of stars, and sun, and moon. THE TENTH MUSE The changeful inarch, Urania ! she doth mark ; With watchful gaze like thine Muse most divine ! Our Lady's eyes shine brightest in the dark. IX. Calliope ! regard ! Epic and lyric bard Take from her equal hand their laurel-crowns : Those she delights to praise Wear haughtily the bays, Go famous in a thousand towers and towns. Nor scorns our Mistress sweet The tripping feet Of such as worship glad Terpsichore ; The choral song and dance, And woven steps that glance, And swimming limbs, her own gay business be. 9 THE TENTH MUSE X. Then — debonair, demure, In Vestal sindon pure — With thine, Polymnia ! all her mind grows Jove's ; In temples, still and dim, She shares the mystic hymn ; And puts by wars and crimes and shows and loves. Oh, make good place For our proud Lady's face In the undying circle of your beauty ; For see, ye stately Nine ! No art, nor charge divine, No gift, nor grace there is, but falls into her duty. XI. Aye, Muses ! more than this ! She whom your lips must kiss, Your new-crowned Sister of this later day, 10 THE TENTH MUSE She you shall take — For all the people's sake — Into your high-born company ; and say "Ephemera! be free Of heavenly airs, as we ! ; ' This sleepless Lady whom her true scribes love — A greater purpose holds, A larger deed unfolds, A mightier mandate bears from will of Jove. XII. So, if there do remain Some little sable stain On this white faithful hand, these fingers slender, As beautiful as wine Crims'nirig a wrist divine, Rosier than rose-leaf on the snow, more tender Than tears on silken lid Those ink-marks deem ! Nay, bid ii THE TENTH MUSE Our pale Queen welcome ! think her worthy glory Who — watchful, night by night — For human help and light Sits by her whirling wheels, spinning the wide world's story. XIII. The wide world's friend is she With tireless eyes which see Whatever anywhere befalls ; with ears Opened, by night, by day, To what men do or say, All the far echoes of all months and years. And what she learns alone Swiftly she maketh known With voice majestic, world-extending, high ; So that the rolling sea Hath not a tongue more free, Nor more all-covering is the arching sky. 12 THE TENTH MUSE XIV. Also her heart is set On hopes, undreamed of yet By those who worshipped once, old bards and sages ;- The onward march of Man From what began His uprise, to the goal of all the Ages. The peoples of the plain Your Gods did once disdain From ledge of haught Olympus, 'mid their clouds. For them our Mistress hath Large pity ; and hot wrath 'Gainst such as scorn and slight her patient crowds. XV. To minister to these 'Neath all the roaring seas, Her messengers, tamed lightnings, come and go ; 13 THE TENTH MUSE O'er all the busy lands Her duteous eyes and hands Gather up knowledge, that the people know. From them she hath her power, And hour by hour To them she payeth back her debt of greatness. Accomplishing full score With blessings more and more, And service wrought in silence and sedateness. XVI. And if, indeed, her hand Wieldeth no fiery brand To strike oppression down, stay the wrong-doer, Chastise the wicked law, And guilty plunder draw From wealthy robbers, and be swift pursuer Of crime and guile ; alway, To seize, and smite, and slay, 14 THE TENTH MUSE Muses ! this plumed quill which she doth bear Is keener in the strife, Strikes closer to the life. Than sword of Themis, or Athene's spear. XVII. Of this the subtle point Pierceth each armour-joint In rich rogues' pride, and evil men's contriving ; There stands no shame so strong It shall, for long, Make head against our Lady's ceaseless striving ; For, clad in living light, 'Gainst Darkness does she fight ; And girt with Knowledge, Ignorance she chases ; High Muses ! welcome her — Our World's Interpreter — Glad and caressing to your heavenly Places. i5 THE TEXTH MUSE XVIII. So, in the sacred ranks, For all men's love and thanks, Ephemera, Tenth Muse, sits safe to-day, Our Lady of the Lamp, Whom we, of many a camp, Serve daily — for her work's sake — and obey ; Not holding any grace or any gift Too precious to uplift In homage to her ; deeming all her right ; Nor ever once ashamed So we be named Press-men ; Slaves of the Lamp ; Servants of Light. 16 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD PROPHET OF ARABIA B dramatic Sketch. The scene is in the house of Ayesha, Muhammad's favourite wife, at Medina ; the date being the month of June, A.D. 632. Muhammad is lying on his bed, sick unto death; his wives, with some other Arab women, attc?iding him. Ayesha. By God ! we never looked that he should lie This way, like others ; weak, and lean, and cold ; Moaning in mortal pain, whom we did know The Prophet of the Lord. Maimuna ! drive The green fly from his brow ! Dost thou recall, Thou, Salma's sister ! what a brow it was, 19 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD How lordly, with its blue vein swollen big When he was wroth, or unbelievers irked ? What eyes these sealed eyes were, so keen and stern, That day, the eighth of Dzul Hijj, when we went The pilgrimage to Mecca, we his wives, And five score cattle for the sacrifice, He in the front of all, by Bital led, Riding Al Kaswa (that good beast which found The desert-well, and knelt at Kaaba, Dropped in the season when he wedded thee ?) Was it not like to locust-swarms ? — the folk Hung round Mohassir, and on Arafat, Glad eager masses, while he stood aloft — As 'twere the Angel of the Seal, methought — In Mina, saying aloud : "I have fulfilled The Message ! I have left amidst ye here A plain command, the Book of Allah ! This If ye hold fast, shall guide aright your feet." And, lifting up his gaze, he spake aloud : " See, Lord ! I have delivered all Thy will ; 20 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Witness it for me ! " Then what thunder rolled From forty thousand scores of tongues which cried : " Aye ! Of a truth thou hast ! " Did we not deem He clomb too near to heav'n in those great hours Ever to fall like this to us and death ? By Allah ! have ye thought it could be so ? Maim una. Nay, and how bright with life this wan cheek was When he came back from Mecca, all his heart Full of God's peace ; the seven due circuits done, The Zemzem-water quaffed, and each thing set In just ensample for the days to be When all men wend to Mecca ! Ayesha ! Thou wert on Arafat that dawn he spake The sunrise prayer — and afterwards the verse From his fifth Sura : " This day have I made Truth finished for ye ; this day have fulfilled My mercy toward ye ; this day do appoint 21 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Islam your faith for ever." Oh. that night I did not dare caress him when he passed Into my tent ; I let the date-water Spill from my leathern-bowl, afeard to speak, He was so rapt. I chafed his feet, and dropped My eyes — ashamed of such far-seeing eyes. Asma (sister to Maimuna). For me, I held him most majestical, Surest of years, that day when Zeid's son Osama, took command for Syria. How, like a conqueror, did our Lord unroll The banner of black wool, and bind the sword Which flashed at Beder, on Osama's thigh, Saying : " Fight thou with this, under my flag, In Allah's name for Allah's truth, and smite, " And break the unbelievers ! " Then, indeed, Who would have dreamed our Master nigh to death ? THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Ayesha. Yet he fell sick next night. Oh, had we marked, There lacked not signs. Fatma ! bear'st thou in mind How Abu Bekr met him two moons back In the Mosque-gate, and, noting that his beard Grizzled amid its flowing raven — spake Full sorrowfully, in a sudden grief : " Thou — who than father or than mother art More dear to all — alack ! I see grey hairs Are hastening in upon thee ! " and his eyes Brimmed with quick tear-drops. For, the Prophet raised With both thin hands his beard, gazing thereon, And answered : " Yea ! 'tis travail of the Word Hath wrought deep signs upon me : night and day The saying of the ' Suras Terrible,' 'Hud,' and 'The Striking,' and 'The Inevitable.' Have burned my strength to ashes.'* 23 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Fatma. Yes ! 'twas so ; Yet sought we ever what might bring him rest ; His uncle Abbas, seeing how the folk Thronged round him in the Mosque, said, " If we build A lofty seat for thee, they shall not throng." But sweet reply our Lord gave : " Kinsman kind ! I will not cease from moving in their midst, Dragging my abbas through the press of them, My feet stained with their dust, till Allah's call Bring me my time of peace." Ayesha. Ah, Fatma ! moist His lips with honey, for I think they move, And, peradventure, 'twill be Allah's will This weakness shall go by. Yet, latterly Of times he did recite, as if 'twere due, 24 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD That Sura which doth say: "When God's help comes And victory, and thou shalt see all tribes Entering by troops the gateways of the Faith, Then celebrate the praises of thy Lord, And seek His mercy Who is merciful." Fatma. Aunt ! When that same great Sura was writ down. He called me ; spake to me with quiet eyes, " My daughter ! it is opened I shall die." At which hard word mine eyes broke into floods Like rain on Yemen in the sowing time. But he said softly : " Nay ! Khadija's child ! Weep not ; be comforted ; since, verily Thou shalt join first with me in Paradise." Thereat no more I wept, but in my heart Joy gleamed like sun-breaks when the showers are done. 25 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Maimuka. Most happy Fatma ! if it were to me He had spoke so, this sorrow would not lie Crushing my heart, as when her too great load Keeps crooked the camel's knee. I, too, recall How — when it was my night, and naught he loved Soothed him, not date-cakes, nor the rabab's string, Nor perfumes of the myrrh and ambergris, Nor kisses — and ye women know he liked Women and scents and sweets — he rose from me, Wrapped his striped izar-cloth about his head, And, lifting up the inner curtain, paced Into the jewelled stillness of the night. With fearful steps I dared to follow him. Ah, Sisters ! not to spy ! solicitous Lest wandering beast or sinful robber hurt The Prophet of the Lord. But he came straight, Quick-striding, resolute, to where our dead Sleep by the city-wall. There, 'mid the tombs, 26 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Long leaned he on his cedar-staff, intent, Deep meditating, silent. At the end A jackal barked ; whereon, as if the cry Housed him, I heard him, in right gentle tones. Speak to the Dead : " Verily, ye and I Have found fulfilment of what Allah pledged ; Blessed are ye, and blessed is your lot Beyond the lot of those left in this world ! Sleep well, till God's great daybreak wakens you. Lord ! show mercy to these slumberers, And grant Thy grace to me ! " At that he turned And hastened back with such assured strides Scarce I had space to outrun him, and to quench The kindled lamp, and cast my sandals by, And seem to slumber, when he crept again Chilled to my side, and whispered, " This good night Allah hath proffered me which thing I would — Long life, or else to meet my Lord betimes ; And I have chosen very soon to die." 27 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Ayesha. That was the week my brows ached ; and I moaned, " Oh, head ! my head ! " not wotting he was nigh. Then entered he, his own brows knit with pain And lightly spake : " 'Tis I might cry ' my head ! ' So bitter is this heat that scorcheth me ! But thou, " Omm Raman's child ! were it not sweet — If Allah willed — thou didst die first ; so I That loved thee best, might speak the prayers for thee And wrap thee in thy grave-cloth, Ayesha ! And lay thee safe, till I came too, Gazelle ? " " Now God forbid ! " quoth I, as who would turn A heaviness to merriment, " thy wish, I fear me, Prophet ! is to find some eyes Brighter than Ayesha's, when I am gone, Giving the love that hath been mine to her." But wistfully he smiled, and silent went. 28 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Maimuna. Yea ! yea ! we know he loved you best. You came New to him from the goat's milk, and child-games. But I, and Haphsa, Zeinab, and the rest Dwelled in the outer garden of his love. It was his wish : we grudge thee not ; 'tis meet He lie now in thy chamber, Ayesha ! Since — save Khadidja — thou in all these years Held his heart most. But, oh ! take heed to him, He strives to speak ! [Muhammad awakens. Muhammad. Ayesha ! Ayesha ! Hath yet Osama marched ? Ayesha. My Lord ! sweet Lord ! He stands without, waiting to speak farewell. 29 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Muhammad. Cover your faces then, and bid him come. [Osama enters, and, kneeling by the couch, kisses the sick man s face. Osama. Prophet ! how fierce a fever burneth thee ! Muhammad. I swear by Him in whose hand lies my life There suffereth no Believer, but his woes Cause sins to shed away, as the hot wind Strips dead leaves off, that new green leaves may grow. I, here consuming, cheat my fever's flame Praising the Lord ; but thou, why tarriest thou ? Smite me the Unbelievers ! Fall at dawn Upon those dogs of Obna ! Let assault Clamour first tidings of thee ! Send forth scouts, 30 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD And Allah give thee victory ! Guide my palm That I may lay it on thy head, and leave A blessing there. Go in God's peace ! [Osama departs. My girl ! Where is that gold I gave into thy hands ? Part it among the " people of the Bench," HeavVs poor ones. Ayesha. Master ! 'tis the last we have ; We owe for wood and sesamum. Muhammad. Give ! give ! That were ill-done if I should meet my Lord With dinars in my hand. Maimuna ! reach My izar down. I hear the Muazzan Calling to prayer ! Ya ! ya ! Ash 'had do an La illah 'l-hd-la-ho. Ye faithful ! know 3i THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD There is no God save God : hya-ul-as-salaat ! Wend unto prayer ! [A pause, while he tries to rise.'] Nay, nay ! I have not force ! I cannot stand ! this fever burns my brain ; Lay me once more upon the camel-skin. Ayesha. Sweet Lord ! thou doest ill to vex thy strength. Enough is wrought. Ah, rest ! Saith not the Book, " We have forgiven to thee all thy sins, The former and the latter." Muhammad. Ayesha ! Except God's mercy cover me with grace, I, that am called the Prophet of the Lord, I shall not enter into Paradise. Hath yet Osama marched ? It will not ease, This fierce hot aching, till I hear his drums. Ah ! set the door wide back ; I faint ! I faint ! 32 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Malmuxa. Make wet his holy lips with date-water, Zeinab ! Fan quickly, Fatma ! See, he swoons ; Our Master's eyes are shut. He hath desired Too ardently to lead the evening prayer. Ayesha. 'Twas Monday's Azan brought him to first point Of mortal feebleness. Zeinab. I did not know ; How fell that, Abu Bekr's daughter ? Ayesha. Weak— Though not, as now, to edge of death — he lay. And I, who oft before, in time of strait, 33 c THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Heard him ask Allah for deliverance, Knelt heartsick by the bed, because he prayed. Saying, " Soul ! my Soul ! why seekest thou Another refuge save in God alone ? " Twas then that first he no more craved to live. Zeinab. Inshallah ! Ayesha. But the morn broke, rose and gold, And the cool air was like a spring to drink, While, in the ways, the footfalls of the folk Made clatter, and the pigeons on the roof Cooed, and the well-ropes creaked, awakening him. So, stronger for his sleep, and — hearing then, As now, the Muazzan — he would arise And gird himself to go. My father served Imam that day, and told us what befell. 34 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Zeinab. Impart it, Sister ! Ayesha. All the Mosque was filled To its corner Hag-stones ; and the first rakaat Was finished ; and the people stood to make The second form ; when our Lord entered in, His arm about the neck of Abba's son. Then, in the House of God, that weakness fled ; Glad grew his face ; his wan lips warmed ; he said Softly to Fadhl, "Allah granteth me Cooling of eyes by this good breath of prayer." And the folk parted on the right and left To make way for him to the Mimbar-rail, Where Abu Bekr would have yielded place, But our Lord motioned " no," and on the mats Sate, till my father ended morning-prayer. Then he arose, and while the eyes of men 35 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Fed on his looks, and eager Sogers caught His robe's hem to fond lips — he cried aloud, The fever crimson In his cheek, his mouth Dry with the blast of Death, and this dear front Shadowed with Azrael's over-hanging wing ; Aye ! — Abu Bekr said — he gazed around And spake : " Men of Medina, where I lived Coming and going, testifying God, I shall die soon. I pray ye answer me, Is there among ye here one I have wronged ? I have borne rule, judging in Allah's name, That am a man, and sinful ; have I judged Unrighteously or wrathfully, or pressed Too hard in the amend ? Let who saith ' yea ' Make his ' yea ' good before the people here And I will bare my back that he may smite. I have borne testimony for the truth, Not sparing sinners : speak, if there be one Wronged by my hid misdoing ; let him shame His Prophet now, telling the ill I wrought 36 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Before the Assembly. I have gathered dues. Declare if I defrauded any here Buying or selling." And no answer came Except the noise of sobs and weeping men, Because our Lord spake thus. But one arose, A hamal. with his cord across his back And porter's knot (Zeinab ! thou knowest him, 'Tis Hassan, from the last shop in the lane Behind the Mosque), who cried : " Abdullah's son, Three silver pieces owest thou to me For wood I bore thee after Eamadhan." And softly said our Lord, " Good friend ! much thanks Because thou didst demand thy money now, And not before the judgment-seat of God. Ill is it if men thither carry debts." Therewith he paid that debt, kissing the hand Wherein the dirhams dropped ; and so came home To lay his head upon my lap ; my lap. 37 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD But, Zeinab, look ! Maimuna, look ! our Lord Stirreth anew ! What saith he ? let me come ! Ayesha's ear shall know — [Kneeling at the bedside. Tis Ayesha Hearkens, dear Master ! Muhammad. Give me drink, my girl ! Hath yet Osama marched ? Be those his drums ? I die — at last I die ! breathe on my eyes And chafe my hands. Well know I that I die. Listen ! this for thine ear — for thee alone — [Re whispers. Three days agone Allah's high messenger Came to me — Gabriel — and he asked of me, " Servant of God ! how is it with thee here ? " " Trouble is with me, and sore agony," Keplied I. Then he spake, " A little while Have patience ; " and departed. Once again 38 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD With selfsame speech he came, enquired ; and I With the same words made answer. And again Even now, whilst ye did watch, th' Archangel stood Here, in thy room, — another shining one Behind him, — and he said, " Servant of God ! This is the Lord of Death, dread Azrael, He hath not sought before from any man Leave to come in, and never afterwards Shall seek from any — but to-day he stands Waiting thy pleasure ; suffer that he come." Then spake I, " Enter, Allah's Messenger ! " And Azrael said : " Muhammad, I am sent To take thy soul, if so thou wilt ; or else, If so thou wilt, to leave thee whole again. I that command, am at command of thee." Whereon a little pondering I was 'ware Of Gabriel's whisper : " Verily, our Lord Desireth thee." And thereupon I spake, " Do thou the will of Allah, Azrael ! " [A pause. 39 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Zeinab. What saith he, Ayesha ? Ayesha. Be still, be still ! Prophet of the Lord ! Master, stay. Muhammad. No ! take thy lips away — they cannot help ! Speak, if thou canst, my Sura writ for death : — Kiss me no more, I say ; Azrael's mouth Is on my lips. Allah ! pardon me ! Join me with the companionship on high ! Hist ! I see Paradise ! Ah, Gabriel ! lend Thy hand a little more. I testify There is no God but God ! [He dies. 40 THE PASSING OF MUHAMMAD Ayksha. Now, women, cry ! Gone ! our resource, our glory ! Wcl-wcl-cli ! Our Lord is dead and gone ! A-lal-lal-lai ! 41 ON THE DEATH OF LORD TENNYSON No " moaning of the bar ! " * Sail forth, strong Ship ! Into that gloom which has God's face for far light ; Not dirge, but proud farewell, from each fond lip ; And praise — abounding praise ; and fame's faint star- light Lamping thy tuneful soul to that large noon Where thou shalt quire with angels. Words of woe Are for the unfulfilled — not thee, whose moon Of genius sinks full-orbed, glorious, aglow. * Compare Lord Tennyson's late poem : — " And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea." 4^ ON THE DEATH OF LORD TENNYSON No " moaning of the bar ! " Musical drifting Of Time's waves, turning to the Eternal Sea ; Death's soft wind all thy gallant canvas lifting, And Christ thy Pilot to the Peace to be. October 6, 1892. 43 WRITTEN IN THE BIRTHDAY BOOK OF H.R.H. THE DUCHESS OF YORK (THEN PRINCESS VICTORIA MARY of teck) The Princess bids me write ! what happy wit Were fair enough this fair page to befit ? In Gulistan there lived a nightingale Who, in 'mid singing, felt his music fail, And said : "To Roses I make melody, But, Rose of Roses ! I am dumb for thee ! " So, England's Rose ! that which our true hearts pray, Let Silence, with her golden speaking, say. June 1893. 44 CRATHIE CHURCH WRITTEN FOR THE ROYAL BAZAAR AT BALMORAL {At desire of H.R.H. The Princess BEATRICE) Far back in memory's vistas — far ! I mind a day when, to Braemar From Ballater, by winding Dee, Two college-comrades walked with me. We tramped by bridge, and birk, and cairn ; Looked down Glen Muick and wild Glen Gairn Passed Craigendarroch's hanging glade, Nor at grey Abergeldie stayed ; Till, on the right, — ere you espy Balmoral's turrets break the sky — There rose, 'mid rowan-trees and birch, 45 ORATHIE CHURCH The plain front of a parish church, So lowly, featureless, and mean, That when one said, " Tis where the Queen Goes to her prayers," the other cried, •'That Crathie? on yon mountain side Of Lochnagar, purple and blue, A stately shrine should soar to view Fitter for kneeling Majesty ! You lassie ! Can this really be Our Queen's church ? " — To a Highland maid So he put question ; and she said : " It's Crathie Kirk ! the door's nae steek'd, Gang in, and when ye weel have keeked For the Queen's pew — gin ye sail look, Ye'll see her cushion and her book ! " So those pass iu. But I — less bold, Or more contemplative — withhold My soiled shoes from that sacred floor, 46 ORATHIE CHURCH Waiting beside the open door. Whereat the lassie, wondering, says : " Wull you na' see where the Queen prays ? " I called her near and took her hand, And said : "How shall you understand, My little maid, what makes me wait Content, apart, outside this gate ? Yet, listen ! In the Indian land Where many a splendid mosque doth stand, One, I remember, white as snow, Supremely reared, above, below. With domes which in the blue air rise Like rounded clouds ; and rich device Of plinth and frieze ; and minarets Piercing the sky ; and diamond jets Of fountains ; and a sweeping flight Of stairs laid broad with lazulite And jasper slabs, leading the feet To where, beneath the porch, 'tis meet 47 CRATHIE CHURCH Men put aside their slippers. There, Written upon the marble clear, In Persian letters, one might read IHTIKAM,— word for < Take thou heed ! ' " ' What made them write it ? ' I will say :- 'Twas there that Akbar came to pray ; Akbar the Great, in Agra Kiug, Lord of the East, all-conquering. One day his stately head he bent Within that marble mosque, intent The names of Allah to intone, — Ninety and nine — for each, one stone Upon his turquoise rosary ; And next, upon his face, to be Suppliant of Heaven for grace and peace On India, and his Realm's increase ; With happy issue of that war His Moslem Omrahs waged afar. 48 CRATHIE CHURCH Then, while the wise Prince prayed, there came One of his captains, like a flame Of gold and jewels, from the field Bringing great news. The foe did yield ; The mighty forts had fall'n ; the towns Opened, with spoil of thrones and crowns ; So, loud he cried : ' Show me the King ! Since goodly tidings do I bring.' And to the nail his Arab tied, Taking the steps at one great stride. " But the blind porter at the gate Crossed his palm-staff, and murmured : ' Wait ! Whate'er thy news ! Akbar is met Inside with Allah ! weightier yet Than any words of man can be, Or noise of earthly victory, Is what the King speaks in this place For him and us, and what the grace Of Heaven may answer. Take not thou 49 I) CRATHIE CHURCH Taint of thy worldly doings now Into such presence.' "So that Lord Unbuckled shield, and helm, and sword, And sate, awaiting, meek. And there Upon the marble — clear and fair In silver script — they did inlay ' IHTIRAM,' and that word doth say :— 1 Here halted, out of modesty, The herald, e'en of victory.' " Her blue eyes opened all their blue : But still, I think, she partly knew Why I, one of those English three, The Church of Crathie did not see. nth June 1894. 5o THE STORY OF THE SNAKE BEING THE DOCTRINE OF KARMA {Translated from the Sanskrit of the MahAbhArata) The following translation from the Sanskrit of what has never yet been placed before Western eyes, opens one of the most curious and striking passages of the many which are to be met with in that alternately wonderful and monstrous " Mahabharata," the chief epic poem of India, out of the heart whereof, like gold from a prodigious mountain, I myself have many a time carried away poetic spoil. The passage occurs in the beginning of the Anushasana Parva, the thirteenth book of this vast epic, and treats upon the eternal problem opened by "those eighteen upon whom the Tower of Siloam fell." Whence is it that we suffer? Why is it that we inflict upon each other, or upon ourselves, un- numbered woes, sometimes willingly, sometimes involun- tarily? What is the origin, after all, of evil ? An answer is given from the Vedantic period to such questions in this remarkable section of the Anushasana, which must be 5i THE STORY OF THE SNAKE ancient, and may be far older than Christianity. The char- acter of the Sanskrit text hereabouts is certainly not to be distinguished from portions clearly authentic, known to be written more than two thousand years ago, and in any case the passage deserves to be made known to Western thinkers, if only for its strange dramatic metaphysics. After commencing with the usual invocation to Narayan and Nara, and to the goddess Saraswati, the book opens with a speech from the Prince Yudhisthira, addressing the hero Bhishma, who is lying wounded to death upon a bed of arrow-points, vanquished in war by Yudhisthira himself, the most virtuous and the most valiant of the Pandavas. The Prince, great in mind and good of heart, is grieved at the sight of his suffering enemy. He reproaches himself bitterly for having brought about the downfall of so re- nowned a warrior. In his distress and remorse, he wishes that he himself had fallen upon the field along with the vanquished. It is characteristic of this interminable Hin- doo poem that immensely long episodes are introduced at moments when modern poetic art would demand swift and continuous action, or succession of events. Bhishma, dying on his hard battle bed, has already discoursed upon various topics at enormous length. Yet when Prince Yudhisthira implores some spiritual comfort so that his perturbed soul may recover itself from deep remorse and be cleansed from what the Prince thinks is sin, Bhishma proceeds to relate to him the apologue here transcribed, freely but faithfully, from the Sanskrit text. 52 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Bhishma. Why, bappy Prince ! wilt thou so deem thy soul Cause of its actions, seeing that thy soul Is instrument, not cause ? That this stands true Sense cannot learn, being too deep a thing, Too imperceptible. Yet, on such head Hear thou a bygone story of the talk Held between Mrityu and Gautami, And Kala, and the Fowler, and the Snake. Know, Kunti's son ! the lady Gautami Was of a governed and a tranquil mind : One day she saw her only son fall dead Bit by a serpent, which a fowler seized — By name Arjunako — and bound that worm With knotted string, and brought to Gautami, Saying, "This cursed snake hath been the means Of thy son's death, most noble lady ! Speak ; Say swiftly how the wretch should be destroyed. Were't better that I fling it in the flames, 53 THE STORY OF THE SNAKi: Or hack it into gobbets. Of a truth This base destroyer of thy child must die." Gautami. Arjunako ! Thou understandest ill ; Set free the serpent. Thee it hath not wronged, But only me. And who will dare contemn The un shunned law that measures harm for harm, Sinking their souls to darkness by sin's load ? Look ! like a ship that bravely breasts the wave, They that sail light by casting sins away Cross o'er the ocean of existence safe ; But they that take for cargo evil deeds, Go to the bottom, as its iron head Drags down a spear in water. Killing this Will not bring back my boy ; letting it live Doth thee and me no harm. Why should we earn Death for ourselves, dooming the snake to death ? 54 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE The Fowler. Great lady ! I have seen high-minded ones Knowing all truths, like thee, thus tender-souled Unto the meanest things that grieve. Such words Howbeit, suit best for those whose hearts are calm, Not for an angered man. I'll kill this snake. Let mild souls, if they may, write all debts down To Fate or Chance ; but plain men right themselves By making foemen pay. What dream is here That we miss heaven by hurting such as hurt ? See now, 'twill comfort thee if I stamp out The reptile's life. Gautami. If thou wert of my mood, 'Twould move thee otherwise. A good man's thought Meditates virtue always. This my child 55 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Was, woe is me ! predestined unto death ; Therefore I will not have thee slay the snake. Anger is poison ; poison hurts. Good friend ! Forgive as I forgive ! Let the wretch go ! The Fowler. Nay ! nay ! I say, by slaying him we earn Merit hereafter, great and measureless, Even as a man doth well and gaineth praise By sacrifices on the altar. Praise Is won, slaughtering a foe. Bid me to kill, And that shall bring us both credit and peace. GAUTAMr. What comfort is there if we rack and slay An enemy ? And what good were not lost By not releasing where we can release ? 56 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Thou bear'st a goodly presence. Be thyself ! Pardon this snake with me, and earn desert. The Fowler. One snake bites many a man. Let us protect The many from this one, preferring them. The righteous make the evil meet their doom, Now, therefore, bid me slay him. Gautami. Killing him, Fowler ! gives not life back to my son, Nor any other fruit save bitterness. Therefore, thou Man of Blood, let this beast go ! The Fowler. By killing Vritra, Devaraj made gain, And dread Mahadev won his sacrifice. 57 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Do thou, like them, straightway destroy this worm Without misgivings. "None the more for this," Spake Bhishma, " did the high-souled lady bend Her spirit to the sinful deed. Thereon The serpent, by the cord painfully bound, Hard-breathing, and sore-striving to be calm, Uttered these words, as men and women talk, Slowly and sorrowful." The Snake. Arjunako! What fault is mine in this, thou foolish one ? No wit have I, nor of myself do act. 'Twas Mrityu sent me hither. By Death's word I bit this child, and not from choice of mine ; So, Fowler, if sin be, the sin is Death's. 53 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE The Fowler. If thou hast done this evil, set thereto By mandate of another, 'tis thy sin, Being the instrument. The potter moulds His pot of clay, but in that deed is helped By wheel and stick, which also of that pot Were causes. Thus art thou, Serpent, a cause. Who slays must die. Thou didst slay! 'Twas thy word. So will I slay thee. The Snake. But the potter's wheel, And stick, and all his gear, made not that pot ; Only obeyed in making ; helpless means As I was helpless. Therefore, mighty Sir ! No fault is mine in this, as thou should'st own. If otherwise thou deemest, then at worst Those were but causes working under cause, 59 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE The greatest being the first. And, reckoned so, How am I guilty in this deed of death ? Cause primary is guilty, if guilt be. Let potter speak for wheel ! The Fowler. If not the head, Thou wert the hand in this : thine the fell fang That nipped this tender life. So thou shalt die ! What, Serpent! think'st thou, when a wrong is done, The evil doer of the evil deed Stands not to pay therein ? Prepare to die ! Making no better plea. The Snake. My plea is good ; Cause and effect have interholding links : 60 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE I was but agent. If thou wilt see just, The sinfulness of this rests not on me But on the one that sent me. The Fowler. Wretched worm ! Not meet to live. Thou glozing chatterer ! why List I so long ? Prepare to die. 'Twas vile Biting this little one. The Snake. The priests, great Lord. Who offer sacrifices do not win The merit or demerit. So then I Ought not to bear what was high Mrityu's deed. 61 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE "At this," said Bhishma, "being named by name, Appeared red Mrityu's self, with noose, and eyes Of terror, and in this wise did she speak." Mrityu. Serpent ! thy words are true. I sent thee here, And thou art not the cause of this child's death. Nor I, that bade thee slay. Th' Omnipotent, He was the cause, God Kala. As the wind Drives the weak clouds whither it will, so I Hither and thither pass, by Kala blown. All that is Sattica, Rdjas, Tamas ; all Which influences, which predominates, Which operates in creatures, have for source The will of Kala. All this Universe Thrills to His will. All thoughts, and acts, and words, And what doth spring from them, are Kala's work. 62 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE The water, and the wind, sky, fire, and earth ; Surya and Soma, Vishnu, Devaraj, Vritra, Parjanya; all the streams, and seas, Aditi, and the Vasus ; what exists, Or did exist, or will, are Kala's deed. Why, therefore, Serpent ! dost thou blame me here ? If fault attach to me, to thee as well Fault would attach. The Snake. I do not blame thee, Death ! Nor call thee blameless. This alone I say, That what I did I did of thee. If sin May lie on mighty Kala, or not lie, How shall a serpent see, how can it know ? As I am innocent it liketh me Death, too, is innocent. But, Fowler ! thou Hast heard the words of Mrityu : loose me then, It is not meet to vex a guiltless one, Tying him with this cord. 63 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE The Fowler. Aye ! I have heard Thee and thy Mrityn, yet I deem thee not Any more guiltless. Thou and Death wert cause ; And cruel Death, who brings kind eyes to tears, I cannot force to suffer. Thee I can, And thee now will I slay for guiltiness. Mmtyu. Thou wilt be sinful, Fowler ! he and I Worked no will of our own : Kala is Lord, And all that's done is done by Kala's will. Neither the snake nor I deserve from thee These bitter words ! 64 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE But Bhishma said, " Hereon, Look ! Kala entered, God of Gods ; and took Speech as of man ; and spoke to Mrityu, Arjunako the Fowler, and the Snake." Kala. Not Death, nor this vile reptile, nor Myself Stand guilty anywhere at any time Of any creature's dying. They and I — Yea ! even I — are all but go-betweens. Arjunako ! thou Fowler ! comprehend ! The Karma of this child did kill this child, No other cause was there that brought its end ; Of Karma he did die. That which he wrought In many lives ere this, led hereunto Implicitly. What he had wrought before Made this, and nothing else, the outcoming Of what was done ; nor otherwise the Snake 65 E THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Thereto was led by Karma, and by that Mrityu ; yea, I Myself. For will makes deeds, And deeds make Karma, and the Karma makes The outcoming. As when ye press the clay This way and that, and see it harden, so Men for themselves shape Fate. Shadow and light Are not more surely tied each unto each Than man to Karma, and to Karma, man ; Therefore perceive and ponder ! Therefore know Not I, nor Mrityu, nor the Snake, nor she, The Brahman mother, brought this death about ; The child did bring it : 'twas his doing, his, Fixed from the flowing past, inevitable. Then Bhishma finished, saying : " Thus the God And Mrityu, and the Snake, loosed from his cord, And Gautami, consoled in heart and mind, Went, with Arjunako the Fowler, home. And thon, too, puissant King! hearing this tale, 66 THE STORY OF THE SNAKE Forget all grief, and reach to peace of mind ; For Heaven and Hell and all things come to all By Karma. What has fall'n upon me here Is not thy doing, nor Duryodhana's ; It was to be, because of what hath been." 67 SOHNI A TALE OF INDUS Dub miXi — " Dead of drowning " — is the legend on the stone, Standing grey, beneath the thorn-tree, by the river's brim, alone ; With a woman's name carved — " SOHNI" — and, below, cut, round and well, Just a common water chatty ! Know you what it means, Patel ? * Yes! he knows — the village knows it! all those rags a-flutter see On the branches, and those votive shards piled round the babul-tree. * Head of the village. 69 SOHNI None passes Sohni's death-place, but ties, for pious fear, Strips from his cloth or girdle, or casts a pebble there. For lovelier — so he tells us — all Indus' bank beside Than Sohni, the Jat maiden, no maiden might be spied ; The cypress not so slim and straight, the musk-deer not so light As Sohni with the milk-pots bringing home the goats at night. He says — this village ancient — that for love and joy to see Her dark eyes shining jewel-like, and footsteps passing free, And to hear the bangles tattling pleasant music round her feet, They changed her name of Sohni, to " Jungl e-Honey Sweet." 70 SOHNI But ever by the river, growing up so fair and fine — Daughter, besides, of Damadar, who owned a score of kine — The great ones did desire her ; and Sohni's youth and grace Were sought by Govind, soucar,* of evil soul and face. And all because that son car held half the village bound With debts at heavy usury, men trembled if he frowned ; So Sohni must be Govind's wife, the next new moon but three ; Yet Sohni — milking, singing — wist not that this would be. Her mind was with her Indian boy, beyond the yellow stream, * Soucar : a native money-lender. 7* SOHNI Who played the bansuli * so sweet he might God Krishna seem, So had he piped her heart away, and when the moon grew dim Sohni would swim the Indus, to find her heart, and him. To sit, before 'twas sunrise, under the peepal-tree And listen to his songs of love upon the bansuli, And make him better music yet, with sighs and whis- pered words, Till time came they must sunder, and drive afield their herds. Then Sohni, with a last embrace, bound underneath her breasts The round black chatty, stopped with grass, whereon the fisher rests * Bansuli : Hindoo flute. 72 SOHNI What time he spreads his river-nets; and, so, stem- ming the tide, Came back upon the chatty safe once more to her side. Then to the cover of the reeds the friendly jar she drew, And lightly tripped a-milking, till love's star gleamed anew; Full many a glad and secret night, when Luximan did blow, Sohni swam o'er the Indus, to meet her lover so. But once it fell that Govind — too early gone abroad — Saw Sohni with her chatty, breasting the watery road — A lotus-blossom drifting ! Ah ! Govind's angry eyes Marked ; and his evil spirit an ill deed did devise. From out its place of keeping fair Sohni's jar he drags, And hides another like it amidst the reeds and flacrs. o 73 SOHNI Oh ! trick of cruel cunning ! 'tis a pot of unbaked clay, Will soften in the water-flood and swiftly melt away. And, when again the month grew dark, Luximan's bansuli Sounds ; and fond Sohni hears it, and hastens to her tree; There clasps the traitorous chatty, and plunges from the brink, But — half across — feels fatally the false clay yield and sink. A little while, for love and life, her brown hands beat the wave ; But broad and strong runs Indus, and none is near to save: Down in the dark swift river, her slender limbs are drawn — The soucar and the jackals hear that dying scream! At dawn 74 SOHNI Yonder — upon the sandy spit — lies Sohni, stiff and cold, The water-grasses tangled round the heart that was so bold ; Dub MUI — "drowned;" and so we set her death- stone by her tree Cursing the soucar Govind, who wrought such villainy. 75 MY GUESTS Gallant and gay, in their doublets of grey All at a flash — like the dartings of flame, — Chattering Arabic, African, Indian — Certain of springtime, my swallows came ! Doublets of grey silk, and surcoats of purple, And ruffs of russet round each white throat, Garmented brave they had crossed the waters, Mariners sailing with never a boat ! Sailing a sea than the bluest deep bluer, Vaster to traverse than any which rolls 'Neath kelson of warship, or bilge of trader, Betwixt the brinks of the frozen Poles ; 77 MY GUESTS Cleaving the clouds with their moon-edged pinions High over city and vineyard and mart ; April to pilot them — May tripping after ; And each bird's compass his small stout heart. Meet it seemed such rovers to welcome, Travellers lordly, and bold, and wise ; I doffed my hat on that golden morning To the first of their band who met my eyes ; Saying, " Al sabah al khaireh, Swallow ! If you're from Egypt, of Nile what news? " " Chitra ! chitra I " he cheeped, quick flying ; "'Tis Hindi, then, that your worship would use," — " Ap hi mihrbart " — but he would not listen, Scouring the daisies in headlong flight ; You'd want some breakfast, too, if you travelled From Ebro to Thames in a single night ! 78 MY GUESTS Still I think that he held me civil, For he came again ; and my foreign friend, Glossy, and plump, and familiar, and loving, A fair she-swallow did then attend. Ah ! of the air what an Atalanta ! How should we fare if our mistresses flew A mile in an eye-wink to mock a lover ; With bright Hippomenes chasing, too ! Yet all in good time they roved together, Paired like a doubled lightning-flash, Birds of one heart and one mind and one feather Lastly, she sate on my window- sash. Lord ! such a Lady-Bird ! eyes so shining, Feet so dainty, and mien so proud ! Judging her Spanish — some small Senora — " La casa e sua ! " I said, and bowed. 79 MY GUESTS Yes ! and forthwith at rny word she took me ; Made a home of my house ; surveyed A sheltered nook in the porch ; and entered Into possession. There, unafraid, Day after day her nest she moulded, Building, with magic — and love — and mud — A grey cup, made by a thousand journeys, And the tiny beak was the trowel and hod. Then, — no more chatter, and no more twitter Till Silence and Night saw the cup contain Four pearls — Love's treasures! 'tis "eggs" men call them, Yet, if we would ponder a miracle plain, Think on the speed, and the strength, and the glory, The wings to be, and the jubilant life, Shut in those exquisite secrets she brooded, My Guest's small consort, the swallow's wife ! 80 MY GUESTS Nay, and no southern Lazzarone, No lazy desert-bred Beddawee, Was her glossy husband ! five hundred forays 'Twixt morning and evening accomplished he, Hawking the gnats, and raiding the midges. And darting home from his dipping bath With meat in his mouth for the wife and children ; A Lord more gentle no Lady hath ! A Lady more faithful no Lord could boast of ; But the full pride came when, above the nest, Peeped four little birdlings, in purple and russet, And the gleam of as many a white satin breast. "A los ninos qite duermen" I sang, in her Spanish, 11 Dios los bendice ! " She flirted away The better to show me her jewel-eyed darlings Along the edge of the cup of clay. 8 1 F MY GUESTS Now, dawn after dawn, there are painstaking lessons To teach sky-science, and wing's delight ; Soon will they follow the swift feet of Summer; Oh ! Sefior Swallow ! I envy your flight ! Ah ! Golondrina ! I grieve you are going ! Say greetings for me to my East so dear ! You have paid your rent with your silvery cheepings, " La casa e sua ! " Come back next year ! 82 POEMS OF JAPAN A JAPANESE LOVER Now, glory and honour be given To the Lords of the Sea and the Land ! From deep unto deep was I driven, I was driven from strait unto strand ; But, at Kaki-no-hana-no-hashi To-night there is ending of pain ; At the " Persimmon-Bridge," — mezurashii ! * I shall see her again ! By the pipe-shops, and buyers belated Fly fast, Kurumaya-san ! f Go mendo / J 'twere blame if she waited By so much as one flirt of her fan. * Wonderful ! t Rickshaw-man. % " Honourable fault." 85 POEMS OF JAPAN I am come to her half the world over, And half the Ken * over she came : And we laugh at a faint-hearted lover Who is lover in name. Kochi, kochi ! f the bridge stands before us, Set me down, and take three times thy pay ! By the light that Tski San % sheds o'er us, I mark her trip quickly this way. My Pearl of the dark-running River ! My Tama ! bright, tender, and true, Met together once more — and for ever — You and I ! I and you ! * Province. t Here, here ! \ The moon. 86 SOME JAPANESE " UTA " A MOTHER'S EPITAPH ON HER DEAD BOY AGED NINE YEARS [By the Foetess Komachi] Tombo-tsuri, &*c. No. i. My Chaser of the dragon-flies at play, Son ! my Son ! I wonder where the little feet to-day Have run — have run ? 87 POEMS OF JAPAN THE SADNESS OF LOVELINESS [By Ariwara Navihira] Kononaka ni, &*c. No. 2. What's beautiful We cannot choose But pine to keep, And ache to lose. If buds to blooms did never grow, Or never faded, What anxious longings were let go, What lack evaded ! 88 SOME JAPANESE "UTA PRAISE OF KIYOTO IN SPRING [By'Sosei Hotshl] Miwataseba, &•& No. 3. Where'er I glance Pale leaves I see Of willows dance With cherry-tree : Green, silver, pink Richly arrayed : Thou wear'st — I think — Spring's new brocade ! 89 POEMS OF JAPAN PLUM-TREES IN A SPRING-STORM [By Kakinomoto Hitomaru] Ume no hana soretomo, &*& No. 4. Which be buds of the plum-trees, And which be stars of the snow — When flakes fall thick on the blossoms — How, — sweetheart ! how shall we know ? Are you jealous of Earth, white Heaven ! That you shower down your cloud-petals so ? 90 SOME JAPANESE " UTA " THE VANITY OF BEAUTY [By the Poetess Onono Komachi] Hana no irowa, &c. No. 5. JUST for a three days' dulness, Just for one pelt of the rain, It is faded, — the flush of my spring-time ! I shall not see it again. Oh, rose-red blooms of the cherry, Did you come for pleasure, or pain ? 91 POEMS OF JAPAN A QUESTION [By N. Amenomori] Masurao no, &c. No. 6. Moon of the autumn sky ! Sentinel, silver and still ! Where are our dear ones who die ? Is it well? is it ill? 92 SOME JAPANESE " UTA THE MOUNTAIN CHERRY [By Yukochi Mitsune] Idzukutomo, &*c. No. 7. Spring's lovely light Basks rosy-bright O'er all the land, Yet white with snow Miyoshino Doth stately stand ! 93 POEMS OF JAPAN THE FAITHFUL FLOWERS [By Ki Tsurayuki] Httowa, izu, &*c. No. 8. From hearts of friends the sweet of love hath passed, I know not why, or when : But you — fair faithful Blossoms ! to the last Keep fragrance — now, as then. 94 SOME JAPANESE " UTA SPRING RAIN [By On ak atom Voshinobu] WagayadonO) &°c. No. 9. Look ! on my garden-hedge, this glittering morning What miracle is seen ! The Spring-rain, by its magic of adorning, Hath dyed the grey fence green. 95 POEMS OF JAPAN MIGRATING WILDFOWL [By Tsumori Kunimoto] Usugamitri, fac. No. io. Writ in pale ink Across the grey scroll of the clouded sky, A message from the South Land to the North, I see the wild geese fly. 96 SOME JAPANESE " UTA " WILD FOWL [By the Poetess Koto Naishi] Karigane m\ Gr*c, No. ii. Had I the wild bird's wing It should not beat the wind To leave so far behind Miyoshino, white with snow-flowers of Spring. 97 POEMS OF JAPAN THE LAST OF SPRING [By Minamoto Tomotada] Hanadani mo, &r*c. No. 12. If cherry-boughs spread rosy still "When Spring-time was departing ; I should not feel — beyond my will, These wild regrets upstarting. 98 SOME JAPANESE " UTA SEPARATION [Author Unknown] Kind ni zvakarete, &c. No. 13. That day when we did sunder, Roaming the pine-trees under, Was it the dew did soak your sleeve, Or tears ? — or tears, I wonder ! 99 POEMS OF JAPAN THE FAITHFUL WIFE [Author Unknown] Omae to ishio, &*c. No. 14. If thou wert only always with me, Dear ! The woodland wild and drear, The lowly hut, this daily labouring, — To ply the needle, turn the winding wheel, Beat the wet cloths beside the stream, and bring Grass from the mountain brow ; — I should not feel That these were toils, but joys ; — if only, Dear ! Thou wert for ever near. 100 SOME JAPANESE " UTA THE TIMID LOVER [By Sumo no Naishi] Haru no yo no, Qr^c. No. 15. I LOVE you so I dare not let you know ! For if — even in a dream — As brief as is spring night, I did but seem To make your breasts a pillow of delight, Oh, afterwards, what blame Upon your name ! lor POEMS OF JAPAN AT THE MEETING- PLACE [By Sosei IIOSHl] I ma kundo, dr'c. No. 1 6. I MUST think now Thou didst most falsely vow Maid ! too much delayed ! It is the " long-moon Night," Yet see ! how pale and white Against the blue of morning she doth fade ! Thou comest not ; — 'tis plain ; Alas ! I love in vain. 102 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA [From the Verses of M. Hector Sombre.] Called " Pocmes Sinceres." A THOUSAND million curses ! 'tis pitiful to see In all our foolish ages so many bards should rise To chaunt the barren splendour of thy billows, cold and foul, Thou dull, ferocious Ocean ! that makest mortals wise Blaming the blundering Providence created such as thee. Yea ! poets after poets have tuned their loudest strings To shameful harmony with what thy murderous music moans : 105 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA From Koman Virgil down to now, there is no minstrel seen Who hath not, in thy gulfs of green, found infinite fair tones Gilt by the dying day; thou Grave of Man's endea- vourings ! Aye ! thou vile treacherous Curse of earth ! thou craw- ling sexless sea ! They hymn and twangle to thee for a sacred element ; Whereas, along thy glimmering face, which cheating tints embroid, Death stalks, at devilish business, in sombre storm- clouds pent, Laughing to spy how many lie, whelmed in thy cruelty. But I, who know thee nearly, and thy false heart, cold and vain, And what for this ill glory hath been man's bitter P a y> 1 06 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA When I behold the setting sun go weary to his rest. Plunging his heavy golden ball into thy hissing spray, I say, "It is a bowl of blood the blood-sucker doth drain ! " Thy rippliugs and thy murmurings ! — Ah, Giicuse! we understand ! The harlots lisp and whisper in every land like this : — But yon strong rock which must abide the lying sea's caress, He knows it is a Beast that licks, to swallow, not to kiss; Or, if a kiss, — Iscariot's, with the silver in his hand. Green rolls thy surge, and green, they say, is hue of hope and faith : Yet deeper gaze! mark how the greys and yellows underlie ! 107 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA See what an inner glare is there ; fierce, full of subtle- ness, Know ye not where is met the like ? 'tis in the wild beast's eye When gaunt he prowls at even-time, his glance alight with death. Bah ! wooing, wheedling summer Seas ! white cats of Neptune's plain ! That purr your crafty ron-rons ; and come, and go, and come, Arching such hypocritic backs, as if ye joyed to have The ships and mariners so brave upon your bounding foam ; We know you, hungry-bellied tibs ! pinched with an empty pain ! Some feign that in those whitening crests fancy may bring to mind Flocks of sea-sheep that graze thy fields, while shep- herd-winds do blow ; 108 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA But I have watched thy foam- wreaths, and what they mean I see, Pale rended frocks of sailor-folk, dragged to the ooze below, White locks of ancient skippers, grey corpses drifting blind. What ! praise thee for thy vastness huge ? dub thee the "mighty" Main? Ah, Traitress! let them ask of thee how many sea- men sped Helped fill thee up? how many tears, by wives and mothers poured, Aided to heap salt fathoms over those precious dead ? Vast Sea! 'twas weeping made thee vast! man's loss hath been thy gain. And last, " La Merff" One foolish day some Gaul did style thee "Mire" Thinking thee truly " Mother " ; seeing thee smooth and suave 109 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA But thou didst wash the sweet word off, with brine of scornful surge, And — lest the worst of human dams blush for that name he gave — He dropped its soft end-letter : thy brand of shame is there ! Hear ye not that sound, in the air, Like the wail of some despair, Like the shriek of one they wrong ? 'Tis La Gueuse, the lecherous Main ! Mad for men, she wants again Wrecks to swallow : that's her song ! Ugh ! the monstrous female creature, Camel-backed, and foul of feature, Well she knows our lads to charm ! no A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA Those she lures to her green caverns Go to death as to their taverns ; None feel horror or alarm. See, too, how her breast obscene Specked with sea-sweat, grey and green, Heaves in wrigglings scandalous ! 'Tis because to-night her lust For our blue-eyed fishers, must Snatch a dozen more from us. Ah, poor souls ! what ill decree, What undreamed-of destiny Lured ye to such evil plight ? Wherefore, doomed so soon to die, Did your foolish hearts rely On a God " Who doeth right " ? 'Tis because by cunning snare, Worse than mortal murders are, She her lovers doth enfold ; in A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA 'Tis because she lets them drag Hard bread from her bowels — Hag !- Bought with agonies untold. They have started, our sea-boys, to keep the pots boiling, A dozen true hearts, on the brine to go toiling ; They know with La Gueuse 'tis not matter for laughter, But the babes must have victuals, whatever come after ; And, when in the cottage these wail for a crust, Let the waves howl their loudest, go fishing they must ; So, they launch to the deep in their poor fragile boat, Which seems like a bird's nest — no bigger ! — to float 112 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA For the brutal horse-play of those billows, a toy ! But the good gallant fellows their vigour employ, And at first the shrewd vixen, all dimple and leer, Smiles around the full meal, which will make her fine cheer ; Then, the crave for men's lives overcoming her soul, Leaping up to the darkness her black billows roll, And a vision of horror it grows, to behold Those martyrs of duty, sires thirty years old, Stripped, ravaged, and slain by this element suave Which Monsieur Lamartine for "mistress" would have. No ! never fell lion sent forth such a cry By night, in the desert, alone, to the sky, As that horrible, murderous, howl of the Main ; And never a hydrophobe, raging with pain, Such ghastly sounds uttered ; no mad hurricane, The blindest, and loudest, and worst which could be Ever showed itself savage and wild as that Sea ! Nor elsewhere so cruelly pushed is the law Which dooms our poor manhood to peril and awe, "3 II A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA As there, by those waves, which no skill can subdue : Ah, ah ! shout your loudest, you hapless ones, you ! The gulf will not care for your mournful appeal : See, see now ! 'tis finished ! the surges conceal The souls they have slaughtered, with green shroud out-spread Iu silence for ever deep over our dead ! And 'tis this; 'tis the judgment that heareth no plea, 'Tis the brutal, unheeding, self-will of the Sea, Which, for certain, must shock the kind eyes of the stars ; That scream of the drowning Night's splendour which mars, That fate always ready, wherever seas spread, For the fisher whose sole sin is toiling for bread. Aye, Academicians ! what ye laud so well It is this scena infernal, this picture of hell, This hateful chef-d'oeuvre of Nature, infect, Accursed, unslaked ; which your poet elect, 114 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA Your "Hugo," your "Victor," from Guernsey's safe height, In exquisite triplets, all tuned to delight, With his hand on the lyre, and his babies asleep. Hath acclaimed as " God's mightiest marvel, the Deep " I swear that I know not a lie more immense ! Oh ! yes, and her holiday lying pretence ! Well I know how, with the dav. When her food is hid away, She, La Gueuse-, not hungry now, Clears the terrors from her brow. And I know, upon the sands How mesdames, in laughing bands, Not much troubled as to dress, Hunt for shells in wantonness. 115 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA How the famous artists come, Some alone, with ladies some, Wield a yard-long brush ; and soon Paint la nncr for the saloon. Yes, and how the households go With their girls and boys a-row, Pile the pebbles, delve the beach, Spade and bucket, each to each. Maids in gala garbs there be Glad to trifle with the Sea, Pleased to show their tender flesh In her breakers, sharp and fresh. Yet I, alas ! despite those tricks and guiles, The sea-beach games, the children's happy smiles, Never forget those widows standing by That, waiting vainly for their dead ones, cry : 116 A FRENCHMAN TO THE SEA "Aye ! dip into the waves your shapely toes, Mesdames ! who smell of jasmine and of rose, Who take sea-kisses from the fawning sea, And know it not a Murderess, as we ; We — unto whom our absent 'twill not give. Whose dead men are as many as do live ; We, too, to this vile Sea our breasts have bared To shame her that she slew the sons they reared." 1 1 FROM THE PERSIAN THE FOUR FIRST GHAZALS OF HAFIZ GHAZAL I. Aid yd ! send the Cup round ! Saki ! brim and send ; Love, which at first was easy, grows harder at the end ; For ache of what the Breeze brought from that musk- scented brow. Those purple tangled tresses, hearts' blood is dropping now. Well ! dye the prayer-mat darker with wine, then ; as 'tis bid ; Such solace of Love's stages from Magians is not hid ; FROM THE PERSIAN But this stage, Best-Beloved ! is too long ! when the bell Calls to unpack the camels, by Go J ! it will be well. The Black Night, and the fearful Wave, and whirlpool wild of Fate ; — Oh, lightly-burdened ones ashore ! what reck ye of our state ? Wending mine own way, unto woe and ill-fame I was brought ; How, in the loud Assemblies, could such high lore be taught ? If thou wilt find The Presence, Hafiz ! why, seek it so ! This world or the Beloved, choose one, and let one go ! 122 GHAZAL II. Oh, glory of full-mooned fairness ! and lustre of lighted grace ! Beauty sleeps deep in thy dimple, and, hid in thy chin -pit, Grace. Then only my heart shall know quiet, bright brows ! and tresses in riot ! Then — Well-Belov'd ! — when its longings win forth to the peace of thy place. My soul, risen up to my lip, stands eager to see thee, and go ; Backward and forward it flitteth ; it fluttereth toward thee, and fro. 123 FROM THE PERSIAN What is thy pleasure ? ah, say ! . . . " Hafiz ! hard is the way ; Keep thy skirt from the dnst! many have finished in woe." Yet would my heavy heart hear what th' Heart- subduer intends ; Oh, by my soul I swear — I swear by your souls, sweet friends ! No help's in this watching of ours ! Buy, quick as ye may, red wine ; Buy from the happy drunkards for whom sleep maketh amends. In the comfort of wine's warm slumber the swoon- bound spirit may wake, Some dew from a secret lip, some light from an eye- beam take ; 124 GHAZAL IT Lips ! eyes ! with a breeze from the Blest, let come rich scent of her breast, I shall breathe 't, and be glad, as the dust is glad for the rose's sake. Ho ye that do quaff the bowls at banquet of Jam ! drink on ! With empty cups to your full cups we pledge ; we will fill them anon ! To those who to God are dear — to Yazd, wind ! these words bear ! May the heads of the loveless be balls for their horse- bats, every one ! From the place of Propinquity far, we languish ; but Love hath his wings ; The slaves of your Lord we are, singing praise to the King of all Kings. 12; FROM THE PERSIAN Sultan of Kings! High Star! send down love-rays from far, And I Heaven's threshold will kiss, as the earth-edge the zenith en-rings. Hahz utters his prayer ; Listen, and Amin say ! " Give him his daily bread From the sugar-sweet lips alway ! " 26 GHAZAL III. Saki ! dye the cup's rim deeper with the crimson of the wine ; Minstrel ! sing of love, and tell us things desirable, divine. In the gold I saw reflected plain my Well-Beloved's face! Ye, that are not ever drunken ! Senseless ! Void of joy and grace ! Those your pale ones, those your prim ones, poor of stature, give delight Only till my Cypress showeth, till my Moon swims into sight. 127 FROM THE PERSIAN Never dies the heart enkindled from this flame of Love divine : On the tablets of the Ages writ eternally is mine. In the day of the Uprising not more profit will be got From permitted bread of Shaikh, than our unlawful drink, I wot. Breeze ! if by that bed of rose-leaves, where the Well- Beloved lies, Thou dost sigh, take heed to whisper these my passion- laden cries. Why let slip a living lover's name from memory, passing by, Since too quickly falls forgetting when the day comes that we die. 128 GHAZAL III To the Heart-Entangler's seeing this my drunkenness shows well, Freely therefore wine they gave me — those high Lords of Heaven and Hell. Quaffing Hadji Kivam's wine-cup, there I saw, by grace of him, In the green sea of the Night the new Moon, like a shallop, swim. Ah, my heart is like a tulip, closing up in time of cold ; When, at length, shy Bird of Fortune ! shall my snare thy wings enfold ? Bird of Fortune ! Bird of Favour ! spread the net, oh, Hafiz ! — spread ! It may chance her wandering pinions to the lure shall yet be led. 129 T GHAZAL IV. SuFi, hither gaze ! for brightly shines the Mirror of the Cup ; Gaze into the ruby wine, and see what thing it flingeth up. No one ever noosed the Anka — God's Bird — throw away thy snare ! All its mesh can ever catch thee, in this world, is empty air. Cleave to pleasures of the Present ! Adam, judging otherwise, Lost his altered House of Peace ; the lovely lawns of Paradise. 131 FROM THE PERSIAN At Time's table, quick to vanish, quaff a cup, ere thou must go ; Ask not what He will not give thee, leave to always banquet so. Foolish, niggard Heart ! Youth's flitted, and thou didst not pluck one Eose From Life's red bush ! What's remaining ? name and fame at life's dull close ? Yet, except from drunkards, fuddled with God's glorious Wine, none learns What was veiled : the bigot Zahid nothing of himself discerns. Unto us will come the wages — us who never left His Gate ; Lord ! Thy slaves lie at Thy threshold : have Thou pity on their state ! 132 WHY THE POET IS OF GOOD CHEER (From Ghazal 477 of Hafiz) Letter Wau. The new Moon's silver sickle, and the Night's star- fields I saw ; And, for my own life's reaping-time, fell on my spirit awe. v ' Awake, awake, good Genius!" I cried; "look, here's the sun ! " " Woe's me ! " — " Nay ! " spake he sweetly : " the deeds which thou hast done 133 WHY THE POET IS OF GOOD CHEER " Are done. Have thou no terrors ! Say, ' Settle all accounts, Earth ! with this corpse I leave thee, while my glad spirit mounts.' " Say, ■ Sky ! boast not thy starry pomp ! we who God's Sufis be, Sell moonbeams at a barleycorn, and the Pleiades for three!'" 1.34 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN" (THE GULISTAN) THE WORLD This World, my Brother, will abide for none, Set heart on Him that made the World alone ; Fix no reliance here, plan no repose, Who lived are dead, and thou shalt be as those : 'Tis one, — when towards Departure souls draw nigh- To sit on thrones, or on bare earth to lie. GREATNESS Many a Lord hath been shovelled away Leaving no trace on his lands to-day ; The proud old carcases under the stones — The grave hath eaten their last little bones 137 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN" But the name of Nushirvan, from year to year, Lives for his largesses, happy and dear ; King ! do good ! fetch profit from breath ! Before they say : " 'Tis thine hour of death ! : ' LEAN BUT LEARNED Came it to your ears to hear What the gaunt philosopher One day, in his wisdom, said To a proud, fat, pudding-head ? " Friend ! " quoth he, " an Arab steed. Though he should be lean indeed, By his quality surpasses All a stableful of asses ! " 138 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN A LEADER I am not he, in the battle Of whom they shall see the back : Look for me where the blood Runs red, and the dust rolls black ; Leaders that fly from the field With the lives of their men wage war. Stake your souls on the fight, Ye, who the chieftains are ! CONTENTMENT Ten darweeshes upon one mat sleep well, But in one kingdom two kings cannot dwell. i39 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN THE SAME The man of God with half a loaf to munch To fellow-beggars gives the other hunch ; But if a King a whole dominion seizes, Till he gains such another nothing pleases. BEGINNINGS A TREE that to-day its first twig shoots The hand of a little one lightly uproots, But if, for a season, ye shall delay, Oxen and cords will not drag it away : With a straw ye can stop the springs, which drown The lordly elephants lower down. 140 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN" INCONGRUITIES Soil and shadow may be suited, but the wrong seed will not grow ; On a rock, in hopes they'll stay there, nuts and almonds do not throw ! LOST LABOURS If the Water of Life were to raiu The willows would bear us no plums ; On the worthless bestow not your pain, From the marsh-mallow no sugar comes. 141 ROSES FROM S'ADI'S "ROSE-GARDEN" OBSCURE ENEMIES What Zal once said to Kustum dost thou know ? "Think none contemptible who is thy foe ! At fountain-head the rillet trickles small Which lower, drowns the camel, load and all." DISCRIMINATION A GOOD blade out of worthless steel did never any make, Ay, Hakeem ! waste no patience for a wicked person's sake ; The rain that in its gracious fall for all doth favour show Brings tulips forth in gardens, but sets poison- weeds to grow. 14- FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY" OF THE "GULISTAN" AT COURT He who with favour by Kings is named For the faults he shows he shall never be shamed ; And he that is thrust from the princely grace There is none to praise him in all the place. FAMILIARITY A Lord with slave of fairy-face commenced in sport and laughter, What marvel if the Lord grew slave, and slave was Master, after? 145 K FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY" Best speeds the servant bearing pots, or piling high the bricks ; When such an one is o'er-endeared like a fed ass he kicks. HOPELESS LOVE My hand from my Beloved's skirt I cannot take away, Though with a sword she smite me sharp, and, in her anger, slay : I have no place of sheltering, no refuge half so sweet ; If I should fly 'twould only be to creep back to her feet. 146 FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY BEAUTY The Lords of War do slay their foes by might of brawn and bone, But fair ones kill their lovers by loveliness alone. WILFULNESS In vain physicians mingle bitter drinks While the sick stomach still of sugar thinks. 147 FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY" THE TEST As long as nothing rash or mad thou doest for love of me. No lover, sir ! art thou of mine, and I am nought to thee ! A DIFFERENCE Ill-looking people you may roughly handle When they shall come between you and the candle, But, if it be a smiling, sweet-lipped Miss, Put out the lamp, and catch her sleeve, and kiss. 148 FROM THE FIFTH "GATEWAY" THE PASSION. OF THE SOUL Happy those eyes that, every dawn, can see A face so fair ! Who's drunk with wine may be Sober by midnight : but who this way slakes His thirst, is drunk till Judgment-Morning breaks. M9 A JAPANESE SOLDIER Extract translated from letter of an officer in Marshal Yama- gata's Corean Army : " I send you the enclosed true account of the death of Shirakami Genjiro, a young soldier, who was the first man killed at our battle of Song-hwan, &c." Shirakami Genjiro, Bugler in the Line ! You shall let our Westerns know Why the kiku* shine ; Why the Sun-flag, gleaming Bright from field to field, Drives the Dragon, screaming, Makes the Pig-tails yield. * The chrysanthemum-flowers, emblems of Japan. The Hi-no- maru, a Red Sun on a white ground, is the standard of Japan, and the Dragon, on a yellow ground, of China. I5i A JAPANESE SOLDIER Shirakarui Genjiro (Okayama man) Left his ripening rice, to go Fighting for Japan ; Musket on his shoulder, Bugle on his breast, Unto each beholder Linesman, like the rest. Sad for grey-haired husbandman, Fatherly — in years — Sad for pretty Yoshi San, Proudly checking tears ; No one in the village, Only Genjiro, Careless of the tillage, Glad to ship, and go. •5- A JAPANESE SOLDIER But the Emperor doth proclaim Soldiers must come forth ! Is there not despite and shame To Nippon, in the North ? Good at target-practice, Or bugle-calls to blow, Duty bids ! the fact is Genjiro must go. Ah, poor boy ! his home-place Never fairer seemed ; Never, out of Yoshi's face Softer sunshine beamed ; Yet his country calls him, Dai-Nippon hath need ; Whatsoe'er befalls him Genjiro will speed. i53 A JAPANESE SOLDIER Traversed is the ocean, Reached Corea's strand ; War's accurst commotion Rages o'er the land ; But he knows his Nation Watching at his back, While he blows to station, Blows for bivouac. If 'twere only given Genjiro might do By some grace of Heaven Something brave and new. Pleasing his General, perchance ;- Aa ! 'tis never so ! A bugler nameless must advance, And blow, and blow, and blow. '54 A JAPANESE SOLDIER So blew and marched the Japan boy, Still bearing in his breast Deep loyalty for inmost joy, Duty for food and rest ; Since, none be born so lowly In that sweet Eastern land Who love not Nippon wholly Or fear for her to stand. The battle-morning frowned, The Sun-flags fluttered out ; By Song-hwan, on Corean ground Gathered the Chinese rout : Then Genjiro, the peasant, Fearless, virgin of war. Saw the good sight and pleasant Of foemen stretching far. i55 A JAPANESE SOLDIER He stood against the General's side The brazen bugle clasped ; The Leader glancing far and wide His sabre-handle grasped : Then drew — and, smiling, said " Blow up the Susume ! Louder than ever thy music played, Sound me the charge this day." And Genjiro, rejoicing, Sets bugle-lip to lips ; — But, at the first loud voicing, A bitter bullet slips From forth a powder-cloud, And, plunging in his breast, Stains — striking sharp and loud- Baldric and cord and vest. 156 A JAPANESE SOLDIER Oh, red it runs, the small stream Will drain away his life ! Kindly the Leader's accents seem, But 'tis the nick of strife : Let some hand from him take it And blow my onset clear ; One minute lost will make it A loss to cost us dear ! " " Nay, nay ! " — eyes black with pride — Cries wounded Genjiro, " I was to sound, and none beside ! And surely I will blow ! This little thing, and last I may do for Japan ! " And forth, with might, he blew his blast, Already a dead man. i57 A JAPANESE SOLDIER He blew the charge so loud, It blared across the plain ; It rattled, large and proud, From mountain unto main : He blew so clear and soft, The Pig-tails made to fly Before the Sun-flags, borne aloft, Could reach their enemy. 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