Class / c)of^\y PRESENTED /^ /ci BESIDE THE BLACKWATER BESIDE THE BLACKWATER BY NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR AUTHOR OF *' CELTIC MEMORIES" Cid 6n^ in fd at hard a a He acum acht so? Octis matd imdnter danih he co ndichins dia atrehh ocus da innaigidh. " What is that? have I another fatherland besidti. this ? And, if I have, let it be told to me that I jnay go to visit it and divell therein.'' Birth and Life of St. Moling. NEW YORK THE JOHN LANE COMPANY The Autlior thanks the Editors of the Century, Smart Set, and American-Scandinavian Review for permission to reprint poems that first appeared in their magazines. GUI Fubllshe? TO MY COMPANIONS BESIDE THE BLACKWATER FOREWORD A golden period of seven weeks^ I paused beside the Blackwater. And Love came to me wearing two forms ; that of Care, the care of a mother for her child ; and Youth, which under- stands^ and trusts, and places healing hands on green wounds. Last of all^ Ireland herself, with her stretches of wonderful landscape, her storied past and potential futures. A portion of all these things, I have endeavoured to weave into the songs which follow, dedicated most fitly to you, my Companions beside the Blackwater. CONTENTS BESIDE THE BLACKWATER Ireland Revisited I Beside the Blackwater 2 Romantic Ireland 4 To THE Ulster Unionists 8 Retribution 9 The Evening Hour, Mallov7 II On seeing the Deer at Mallow Castle 13 In the Rain 15 On the Study of Irish 17 The Courtship of Etain 18 The Fairy Bride 19 The Tryst 24 In Hope and Remembrance 25 A Plea for Immortality 27 Summer Morning 28 In the Train 29 In the Woods 53 Fairy Song 31 Parting 33 FROM FOREIGN SHORES From Foreign Shores 35 Over the Dunes 38 On Reading " Songs from Leinster " 40 Jacobite Song 42 Glenshee 44 Midsummer 45 By Sunset Shores 46 Variation on an Old Theme 47 Homecoming 48 Far Away 50 3NNETS AND SONGS Marriage Song 52 A Discovery 54 Summer Dawn 55 Fountains Abbey S7 To A Child with a Copy of the Author's " Hansel and Gretel '* 58 Roger Ascham 59 With an Anthology of Verse 60 On Hearing the Pastoral Symphony 61 With a Photograph 62 To Peggy 63 During Music the Poet Dreams of Meeting his Lady 64 In the City he Remembers Past Summer Nights 65 In Your White Arms 66 To Jean Sibelius 6r The Outcast 68 AUBADE 70 Reincarnation 71 Travel Song 72 IRELAND REVISITED Once more, O Erin, do I see thy hills Rising immutable above the sea, Rousing the love that everlastingly The hearts of thy far-scattered children fills. Several their duties, and yet one their wills ; To turn at last v^^ith tired steps to thee, And rest at evening in the mystery Of thy green mountains, fairy glens, and rills. I hear thy sons and daughters, homeward bound, Greet one another on the long-sought road ; What were there thoughts were their fair Mother found, Bent by the burden of another's load, Her speech disabl'd, her few helpers bound By the dull statutes of an aHen code ? BESIDE THE BLACKWATER With life forever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree The instant made eternity. — Robert Browning. I hear a young girl singing, Herself I cannot see : The twilight time is bringing Shadows and mystery. The clouds lie close together — Sheep folded for the night — True omens of the weather For him who reads aright. The patch of light is fading From Knockaroura's brow, Green trees and foliage shading Into the evening glow. A hungry trout is leaping In the dark, winding stream, Where low-bent trees are sweeping Waters that whirl and gleam. O wondrous hour of even, When all the world is peace ; Earth were exchanged for heaven, Could Time his passing cease ! ROMANTIC IRELAND Romantic Ireland^s dead and gone. W. B. Yeats. Romantic Ireland's dead and gone ; And yet the sunlight flecks the sea Where Oisin once rode wondrously With Niam to the other world. The gnarled tree guards the sleeping saint Of Inn isf alien's shady wood ; Where long the famous abbey stood, Now roofless, ruin'd, desolate. Above Lough Leane's placid breast, The curlew sounds his plaintive cry ; The colours of the western sky Are hidden in the deep of night. Beside Blackwater's shaded stream. The marsh rail feeds in solitude ; The mallard leads her little brood Across a shallow, shelter'd cove. 4 The jocund jackdaws flutter round The ivy-cover*d castle wall, That leans, as if at last to fall Beneath a weight of clinging vine. Above the blue of Dingle Bay, A line of misty mountain peaks ; And, southward, Macgillicuddy's Reeks, Crown'd by the cloud in Kerry skies. From out a bog in far Connaught, A snipe darts off in startPd flight, And hastens toward the edge of night, Now creeping round the cottage roof. Along the rocks of Glenariff, The river tumbles to the sea ; Beside the path, luxuriantly, Grow banks of shamrock, moss, and fern In ceaseless war, the ocean hurls His waves against the head at Bray ; When lo ! the billows melt away, A magic mist of silver tears. The grass still holds the morning dew, That makes the Irish hills a sheen Of vivid, unforgotten green, More lovely than a precious stone. 5 The pageant of the drifting clouds, Now white, now every shade of grey, Remains unchang'd, as yesterday, When monkish poets wrote their praise. The birds fly home at eventide, x4nd peace is folding hill and lea, Great shepherd of all things that be : And, yet, romantic Ireland's gone ? II In massy folios, closely writ, Live countless stories of the past, When Ireland's glory far surpass'd The honour won by knights of France. Here gleams the blue of ancient skies, Here glows the beauty of the sea ; Here sounds the woodland minstrelsy Heard by the bards in former times. Ill The scholar's lamp is burning late, He hears the voice of living men. And famous deeds are done again. While Oxford bells chime through the night. 6 Then far away, beside a park In my new college town, now old, The tales the Irish ollams* told. Are read beneath the study lamp. O Httle group of learned men, The lasting flame of Celtic lore Has lit my torch ; I go before. To flash your message through the world ! The clouds still circle Irish hills ; All Erin's lovers now would save The legends of the land of Maeve : Is, then, romantic Ireland gone ? * A title borne by the most learned men in ancient Ireland. TO THE ULSTER UNIONISTS As some skill'd craftsman of the long ago, Wrought the rich cover of a bishop's bell. Adorning it with figures that should tell Of Man's salvation by his Saviour's woe ; Or as the mason watch'd his building grow, Each stone with its near neighbours fitting well; The whole a rampart 'gainst the gates of Hell — God's fortress, garrison'd by men below : So would I build my humble shrine of song, Guarding the spirit of the Irish land, That all her children here may understand Her lofty hopes, her lasting fight with wrong. And, fill'd with love for her, may, hand in hand. Receive the right they have awaited long. RETRIBUTION Beside the stream where, haply, Spenser sang The wondrous wanderings of his " Faerie Queene," I thought of him* with whose fame England rang, Who once broad Munster's President had been. Perchance the poet and the soldier met Upon the river bank, to plan a raid On those wild Irish who, like fools, should fret At the fresh conquests by the English made. And yet we know the swiftly flowing stream, The hillsides, darken'd with the close of day, Have lent their beauty to the poet's dream : The song endures ; the scorner past away. But what of him, the soldier and the lord Of the fair fields where Desmond once held sway ; The broad demesne that was a queen's reward To him who kept the Irishmen at bay ? * Sir John Norris (or Norreys), to whom Spenser has addressed one of the introductory sonnets of the Faerie Queene. The years have pass'd, and still the river flows To its far haven in the unseen sea ; While, year by year, the Norreys holding grows More ruin'd by the pinch of poverty. Erin remains, unchanging, calm, and fair ; The dazzling mistress or the mourning wife Of those true lovers who have sought to share Her trials, and, by dying, give her life. She is eternal, and across her skies Flash the first signals of reviving day. Bright harbingers ! Her splendour shall arise To light a world, now darken'd, on Its way. 10 THE EVENING HOUR, MALLOW The kine are lowing in the verdant fields, The hills are mottl'd by the evening sun ; A few stray villagers are turning home From their short saunter by the riverside. A blue-frock'd girl slips by yon line of trees, A brilliant patch against a ground of green. She holds the open gate, and when I say My path must lead me homeward, straightway goes, Contented, toward the cottage close at hand, To tell her parents of a day's work done. The corn is stack'd in the broad golden field, The light grey clouds float past the summer sky; While rooks call gently in their huddl'd flight, Perching in pairs upon the lonely tower, Last outpost of the ruin'd castle wall. Erin ! how often have thy children found True peace of soul in this hush'd evening hour : Oscar and Oisin, Patrick and the brave VVho fought v^dth sword and pen to keep thy laws Ji And ancient customs in the dangerous days. O waiting World, is this expectant calm But rapture at the swift approach of night, Or wonder ere the dawning of a day That brings new glory to thy fairest isle ? 12 ON SEEING THE DEER AT MALLOW CASTLE The buds were blown on busb and tree, The birds their matins sang, And through the greenwood merrily The hunting music rang : The yelp of hounds, the silver horn, The hunter's deep halloo, As past the Conbeg, by briers torn, The stout stag leapt in view. Mad was the chase where Oisin came, With Oscar by his side ; And Finn, their father, Erin's fame, And he who won Finn's bride. Their cloaks flew free and far behind. Their spears shone in the sun ; The steeds had caught the morning wind, So swiftly did they run. Such was the picture Fancy drew, When, from my window wide, In the fenc'd park, a score or two Of grazing deer I spied. 13 Long since the hunting horn is still, No further need they fear The deep-mouth'd hounds, intent to kill, The huntsman with his spear. Erin is chang'd ; her hero names Are only heard in song : Scarce any man who proudly claims That Irish rule is wrong, Knows of his country's lasting lore, The story of her woes, Many and grievous since her shore Was sought by foreign foes. IN THE RAIN (Caragh Lake, County Kerry) Grey Caragh Lake lies in a mist of rain, The low clouds huddled round the lofty hills, As if protecting them from pain unknown, Unknowable. Shielded by hill and wood, The little house seems a pale ghost of summer, The wicker chairs upon the porch deserted, The rain-drenched garden with a few late flov>^'rs, Indoors, we sit before the tiny hearth, Talking of Erin and her many woes. Out through the rain-splashed casement to the west, We see the wind-born waves, and hear the wind, The autumn wind, hurl half a hundred drops Against the pane : as, in a winter storm. Wild birds are hurl'd against a beacon light And fall, defenceless, to the rocks below. About the top of Carintoul, the clouds Have lifted ; and their jagged undersides Make us more conscious of the dreary day, Presage in nature of this troublous time, When brother lights vdth brother for the fear Of something still untried, and so still dreaded. 15 We can but waft upon the sighing wind, Our prayers for Erin. Even as the sun Must light the waters of the leaden lake, So must all Ireland's children understand The living message of her mighty dead. That they may burn away the magic mist Wrought by ill-omened druids of the land ; The mist that hides fam'd Ulster from the south. i6 ON THE STUDY OF IRISH In time-stain'd folios of the distant past?, , Were found the tales that I once read with thee, Of Patrick, Conor and the chivalry Who swore to fight for Ulster to the last. Here was Cuchulain, whose chariot flew so fast It caught the wind that blows from off the sea, Where Lir's four children swam in misery. For the harsh fury of the winter blast. I came to Erin, thinking there to find, Among her gentry, reverence for those Who anciently had overcome her foes. Instead, I found her heroes out of mind, And the rich language where their glory glows, " The hobby of some learned men and blind." 17 THE COURTSHIP OF ETAIN Love that endures beyond the bounds of death, Love that outlasts our little time of breath ; Linking our world to the great world of God, Who, Love Incarnate, our life's pathway trod : Here, in this tale of half-remember'd time, Forever burns the fire of love sublime. When mortal prince, loved by immortal maid, In mortal love found the all-sheltering shade Of Love Eternal, shed from Paradise Across the souls that love in any wise. O Etain ! thot^ art kin to her who gave Her godhead to the hero who could brave The ring of fire round the mountain height, And for Love's anger bring her Love's delight. The greatest master of immortal sound Has sung the joy that his Brunnhilde found : Thus, Etain, may my heartfelt praise of thee, Live with his song through Love's eternity! THE FAIRY BRIDE (The stranger tells his story to his host) I saw her first ride down the hill, Through heather and through fern ; She kept beside the little rill That laughs at every turn. Her fair hair fell below her waist, A plaything for the breeze ; The circlet round her brows was chas'd With wondrous pageantries. Her kirtle was a brilliant green, Her mantle shot with gold : She was more fair than the fair queen Whom Midir lov'd, of old. Her bridle, hung with, little bells, Made a sweet silver sound : Such music as, 'tis said, foretells A hidden fairy mound. She came to where I lay in grief, Beneath a spreading tree. " If thou wilt tell thy sorrow, chief, I'll find a remedy." 19 I told her of the weary years That I had pass'd in pain ; How I had left both kin and peers, The palace on the plain. " My harp hangs silent on the w^all, My hounds av/ait the horn That sounds the well-known starting call. Upon a hunting morn. " The druids, learn'd in ancient lore, Have said no king may reign Who bears the stamp of sickness sore, Till he be cured again. " My father sits in lonely state Upon high Tara's throne ; While I lie here, the pawn of Fate^ An exile from mine own." I look'd into the lady's eyes, And in their depths I saw Answers to riddles of the wise Long sought in books of law. " If thou wilt mount and ride," she said^ " Upon my steed with me, Past where yon mountain lifts his head In lasting majesty, 20 " I'll take thee to a distant land, Beside a placid sea ; Where cunning druids Understand Thy grave infirmity. " A three years' space must thou remain Upon the Plain of Light, Before thou may'st return again To glad thy father's sight." I look'd again into her eyes. And lo ! the love light there Touch'd all the hidden mysteries That in my being were. " O Love, how gladly will I ride Far out beyond the west. If thou wait there become my bride. And in these arms find rest ! " She smil'd. I took her hand and leapt Upon the dappl'd steed ; Toward the green-clad hill we kept, Across the pleasant mead. We rode straight on, and through the liill- The entrance lay conceai'd — To the veil'd sight of mortals will No fairy secret yield. 21 We came into a spacious plain, In the grey morning light. 'Twas there I found my former pain First chang'd into delight. Far off, I saw a grove of trees, More fair than I have seen Upon the many lovely leas Of mine own Erin green. Faintly, I heard the ceaseless sound Of the low-singing sea : We hurried on, and straightway found The palace of Faery. A hundred damsels, dress'd in green, A hundred youths as fair, Soon led us to their king and queen, Thron'd in the palace there. Why should I tell the happy years That eas'd me of my pain ? Alas, the day I sought my peers In Erin, once again ! Full heavy was my heart to leave The wife whom I had won : How should I let my father grieve For a restored son ? 22 " Ah, Love, the world of men is chang'd : Go not from Fairyland ! Thy kinsmen now, from peace estrang'd. Have taken sword in hand. " And yet, if thou wilt surely go, My bugle horn with thee, And three loud blasts upon it blow, If thou would'st summon me." I came, and sought in vain the way To my proud father's hall : His deeds, a tale of yesterday, Hold a new age in thrall. I found thee, Friend, to solve at last. My life's great mystery ; How^ the glad years that I have pass'd. Three centuries should be. I thank thee for the food and mead — Three blasts I now have blown : I wait to hear the trampling steed, The voice I long have known. She comes ! and now the weight of years Falls from the aged world ; As when the morning sun appears, Where hills are mist-encurl'd. 23 THE TRYST Sweetheart, will you be waiting Beside the wicket gate ? To-night we must be mating, To-morrow leave to Fate ; For we must go to-gether, Far, far away from here ; Through fair and boist'rous weather, If skies be dark or clear. To-morrow we must travel Across the western sea ; So shall we best unravel Love's endless mystery. Sweetheart ! you will be waiting Beside the v^dcket gate. To-night we must be mating, To-morrow leave to Fate. 24 IN HOPE AND REMEM- BRANCE And God stands winding His lonely horn, And time and the world are ever in flight. W. B. Yeats. We drifted away in the distance, Through the cold September rain ; You in the carriage for New Ross, And I in the Kerry train. The clouds hung low on the hill-tops, The fields lay dreary and green ; And dun were the bits of bogland, With the rain-soak'd road between. Sad was the heart in my bosom ; More sad than the desolate day, When Nature seem'd sharing the sorrow I had for your going away. Gaunt were the trees at the Castle, (The lime trees that shadow the drive) With a glimpse of sky through the branches And leaves that yet linger'd alive. 25 You have gone from the place where I knew you — The ocean must keep us apart — But the sight of you Hngers forever In the shrine I have made of my heart ; While Time goes steadily reaping, And binding the sheaves of the years ; Binding with bands of pleasure The harvest we water'd with tears. Yet swift is the passing of seasons, And soon will the new summer be, When you come over the channel, And I come over the sea. We'll go to the rock and the river — • The Blackwater, rapid and dark ; Come home by the path through the woodland^ The path by the deer in the park. And Love will then grant us a vision Of joy above sorrow and tears ; And God will look down from His heav'n, And Time cease reaping the years. 26 A PLEA FOR IMMORTALITY Let me sing but one song of love To your grey Irish eyes, That in the coming years may prove Full of new melodies. So shall your charms forever be Known in your native land, That all who learn love's mystery May sing and understand. 27 SUMMER MORNING This fresh September morning, With light clouds in the sky, The rooks on tree and tower Are cawing cheerily. This fairest morn in Erin, Since I have crossed the sea ; May it bring hope and gladness, New faith and purity. May my new friendship prosper, And link me closer still To the country of my fathers, Land of the green -clad hill. May I have strength to conquer The sharp assaults of pain, And every subtle weakness That tempts my soul again. Then, with new strength and vigor, I may re-cross the sea. And gain my life's best blessing. My love has kept for me ! 28 IN THE TRAIN {The Nun watches a Mother and Chili) She looks, she smiles ; then turns away to try And tell her beads and pray to God on high. The happy mother gives her yearning breast To the glad babe, who drinks and Hes at rest. Daughters of Christ ! which may His Mother be, The happy wife, or pale virginity ? 29 IN THE WOODS You were a pool in shadow, And I was a beam of light : You took me to your bosom, I quiver'd with delight. You were a pool in shadow. And I was a beam of Hght. You were a pool in shadow. And I was a hunted deer : You gave me sweet refreshment. And eas'd my heart of fear. You were a pool in shadow, And I was a hunted deer. You were a pool in shadow. And I was a lofty tree That kept you with my branches From the sun's audacity. You were a pool in shadow, And I was a lofty tree. You were a girl in sorrow, And I was a man in pain : You brought me love and friendship, And gave me hope again. You were a girl in sorrow, And I was a man in pain. 30 FAIRY SONG The fairies are brushing The Jew from the grass, With dancing feet, As they gaily pass To the httle hollow Behind the hill. With its silver trees, Expectant, stiU, And the moon unveiling Her youthful head ; While mortal folk Lie safe abed. See yonder troop On fairy steeds, A ripple of Hght Across the meads, Where new-blown flowers Are fast asleep, And only fairies May vigil keep ! Now follow footmen With fairy spears, That flash as bright As shining tears Which fill with gladness A flower's eyes, 31 When, after night, The sun doth rise. Then, Nanc^, come Across the sea To gladden Granny, And gladden me ; And I shall lead you From Mallow's stream Far over the hills, The hills of dream ! 32 PARTING The ship lies waiting by the Irish shore, To bear me far across the tranquil sea, Back to a busy world, a city's roar, The whirl of ceaseless Hfe that summons me, I leave you in the keeping of the hills, The Irish hills, that in the evening hght Grow dark and sad ; yet when a new sun fills The world are with a hundred colours bright. May they now guard you ; give you of their peace In the sad moments that may cloud your hfe ; Make you more certain of a sure release From trouble undeserv'd, unceasing strife. May I return to this new world of mine Strong in your friendship, buoyed by your love, Trusting the wisdom of my Lord's design, That gives in you His Comfort from above. Song ! find the dwelling where my Lady is ; Bring her new knowledge of her native land, Of Nature and her baffling mysteries. That she may learn, and love, and understand. 33 FROM FOREIGN SHORES Chine tire adamri at a congnusi cadli asa rodarc find fia ni frithid bid a cia. " A beauty of a wondrous land. Whose aspects are lovely, Whose view is a fair country. Incomparable is its haze" The Voyage of Bran. 35 FROM FOREIGN SHORES Over the ocean to Erin, And over the hills to Clare, Where Moira will be walking In the star-clad evening air. The April moon is shining Across the rippling sea : From the beach below the garden, The wavelets' minstrelsy. The first faint breeze of springtime Has blown my Moira's hair, And brought to her my longing To walk beside her there. How well do I remember The grey October morn I left the straggling village Where she and I were born. She drove me, still and silent, To the train, and waved goodbye : A mist filled all the landscape The train went rushing by. 36 Fve been a year and over Amid the city's din, Where walls of steel and granite Have hemmed my spirit in. I've joined a hive of v^orkers In the country of the free ; But a slave in ancient Erin Enjoyed more liberty. The blue sky lay above him, With its drift of changing cloud ; And the grass lay soft beneath him, While the cattle gently lovved. My spirit flies to Erin, And escapes the prison bars, To walk beside my Moira In the springtime, 'neath the stars. God grant she feels my presence, As she walks above the sea ; And, perchance, her sight grows dimmer, When she breathes a prayer for me. I must turn again to labor, To win my crock of gold, That I may be vdth Moira, When I know she's growing old ; 37 And our youngest child has left us, To bring our name renown ; And the winter storm is passing, While the lamp is dying down. 'Tis glad will be my Moira, When I come to make her mine ; Lord Desmond's youngest daughter And the pride of all his line. Over the ocean to Erin, And over the hills to Clare, My bride beside me walking In the star-clad evening air ! 3b OVER THE DUNES Over the dunes the ducks are flying. And the sea breeze brings their gentle crying Over the dunes. Out where the sea's white hair is blowing, The long dark line of ducks is going Over the dunes. The leafless trees are straight and spare ; The sea is singing an ancient air Over the dunes. The marsh lies lone and dun and still ; The fine sand foUows the wind's will Over the dunes. A gang of geese comes from the south, And heads the marsh at Mill Creek mouth, Over the dunes. My heart is glad for an open place — The sea, and the sky, and the infinite space Over the dunes. My heart is glad for the things that are ; And yet I long for a land afar, Over the dunes : 39 A land where clouds of silver grey Circle the hilltops far away Over the dunes. The sight of all in the world most fair, Is the Irish land in the evening air, Over the dunes. Turning my back to the silent sea, I go where the house lights summon me Over the dunes. In the garden walk, by the patch of fern, A fair-haired girl waits my return Over the dunes. Sing her the song my lone heart sings, Wild duck flying with beating wings. Over the dunes ; Over the dunes the ducks are fiying. And the sea breeze brings their ge?itle crying Over the dunes. 40 ON READING "SONGS FROM LEINSTER" You have brought me a breath of the Irish land when I was far away ; On the wind of song the scent is come of the new grass and the hay, The peat-bog tying, bleak and lone, beneath the drifting grey. I have caught a sight of Dublin town in the cold November rain, When poor folk crowd the public bars to " drink a drop " again. And the children play in the muddy street, as if 'twere a grassy plain. I have felt the throb of a heart that longs for the distant Irish land, With faith that those who are left behind still love and understand, Though life has shattered their fondest hopes, and every joy they plann'd. 41 Oh, would our songs could set at rest all talk of civil war, And summon Erin's children home, where now they wander far From the lovely glens of Antrim, and the Caragh at Glencar ! 42 JACOBITE SONG The kine are in the lowland, the sheep are on the hill ; Winter's white bonds have fallen from mountain rock and rill. ■An eagle floats in grandeur above the valley wide ; The broad blue field of heaven with pure white cloud is pied. The joyful song of labor comes from the furrow'd field; While blossoms blown at daybreak their spring- time odours yield. The summons of the pibroch is ringing down the glen, And glad are all the clansmen in gathering again. m buckle on my broadsword and go to join the clan. To fight once more for Scotland and the love of Lady Ann. 43 Mayhap I'll have to journey to join the Prince in France — 'Tis well the maids of Paris can lead me through a dance ! But I'll come back to Scotland when heather is in bloom, Unless, far off, in battle I find a sterner doom. My lady will be waiting to go to church with me^ And Hve the wife of Alan, lord of the north count tie. 44 GLENSHEE {Fairy Glen) Love ! I had thought you far away, Until I woke the other night, To see you clearly, as the day I left you in the evening light. Your dark hair was unbound, as when A queen in a forgotten time, You came to meet me down the glen, And took me to your fairy clime. The sorrows of the fruitless years That I have lived, lay in your eyes ; With understanding of the tears That I have shed, in growing wise. Your hands, outstretch'd, awaited mine ; Your lips, half parted, sought to say : " Love is the thread that shall entwine Past hours with those that are to-day.'' Dear ! should I lie awake to-night, Come once again to comfort me ; And let me know Love lends me sight Undimm'd by the dividing sea ! 45 MIDSUMMER There's a patch of purple heather On a hillside that I know, And to-night's the bonny weather When the tiny buds will blow. Below the hill, the moorland Hes, A green and changing sea ; And through the moor the river flies. Singing to memory. There's a patch of purple heather, 'Neath a cloud-screen'd azure sky ; And 'tis there, in ev'ry weather, That I long at last to lie ! 46 BY SUNSET SHORES By sunset shores I overlooked A blue, untroubled sea, And legends of the long ago Slowly came back to me. I thought of Lir and his great grief ; Of Etain, fairy wife, And Conor, king of chivalry ; Cuchulain, great in strife ; Of Deirdre, fairer than the stars That watch'd her, hand in hand With Noise, on a summer night, Walk on the silver strand. By sunset shores I sat, and gaz'd Across the changing west To where you were. Ah, how I wish'd My head lay on your breast ! 47 VARIATION ON AN OLD THEME Breo or da oiblech — In chroeb co m-blathaib (Flame, golden, gleaming — • Branch with blossoms). Ultan^s Hymn to Bridget. Sweet branch, with its blossoms in May- time, Sweet song of the bird to heF mate ; Flame bright as the sun in the day-time, Heart free of contempt and of hate : These things are yet but the essence Of that which I know you to be ; For I still feel the glow of your presence Shine over the leagues of the sea. 48 HOMECOMING Foaming, the bright brook flew Down the deep glen I knew. Over the hills. There 'twas my wont to float Many a tiny boat Over the hills ; Bearing sweet words of love, Brought to a quiet cove Over the hills ; Where sat a little maid I met when once I stray'd Over the hills. Too soon the dreaded day Came, when I marched away Over the hills. Years now have come and gone : Long since the wars are done, Over the hills. Past where she used to dream, Swift flows the sun-bright stream, Over the hills. What if black hair be grey. When Love has led the way Over the hills ! 49 FAR AWAY End of desire, and end of delight ! Over the ocean, sparkling and bright. Let me now follow the birds of the sea, Back to the land where my lady must be ; Bearing my love — a lamp fiU'd with fire- To the end of delight, and end of desire. 50 SONNETS AND SONGS To M. So were it rightly^ so shall it be Only, zuhile earth we 'pace together For the purpose apportioned you and me, Closer we tread for a common tether. Robert Browning. 51 MARRIAGE SONG {February 2^th, 1914) Come all ye rosy-finger'd Loves That serve in young Dan Cupid's train. Waken your pipes ; your drums and cymbals strike again ! Harness the car drawn by a team of doves ; Forget the snow upon this winter's day, — To us the snow-drifts seem deep banks of bloom in May. Attend ! because I hear the wedding chime Ring gently on the frosty winter air, And, swelling loud and louder, echo everywhere The gladness of this joyous time. When two young hearts are met Before Love's altar, and the Feast of Life is set. Attend ! ye deities of pagan days, As second only to our Sovran Lord, Who, with Love's service done, shall gjant us Love's reward. 52 Oh, may an echo of the hymn we raise From happy hearts, fall on the lov'd ones' ear, Who shared the hope and sorrow of each childish year ! Now they are gone ; the hurrying train Bears them toward new life, new ties, — Fulfilment of how many hidden mysteries ! The world is turning once again To toil ; but now Love's strength has won Two souls this day for Love's Immortal Son. S3 A DISCOVERY The world is changed since I first looked Into your eyes ; And the long, sordid city street Transfigured lies. Oh, let me, then, forever gaze, That I may be Changed by your love, vi^hich makes this world Eternity ! 54 SUMMER DAWN He : " Sweet, will you wait a while, One little hour, Till the dawn comes again, A rosy flow'r ? " She : " Hushed lies the whirling world ; Out on the lawn Chirps now a sleepy bird, Greeting the dawn." He : " All through the summer night, Held by my arm, You lay with hair unbound. Throbbing and warm." She : " Far off the twinkHng Hghts Fade one by one : Pale grow the lamps of God, Waiting the sun." He : " O night of love and youth, Fleeing so fast ; Could but this time of bhss Eternally last ! " 55 She : " See now the lusty sun, Tingeing the skies ; So, beyond hills of pain, New joy shall rise." S6 FOUNTAINS ABBEY How often, through this fair and verdant vale Came weary pilgrims to the abbey door, Returning to their native land once more To glad the monks with many an eastern tale. Perchance, adventuring beyond the pale Of Sherwood Forest, Robin Hood, who swore To strip all monks of their ill-gotten store, Here levied tribute with his men in mail. See now the desolation Time has wrought : The vaulted roof, by stately piers upborne, Has vanish'd ; while a few wild birds have brought New hymns of praise to greet the sun at morn, And, with their twittering, keep away the thought Of men forgotten and a church forlorn. 57 TO A CHILD WITH A COPY OF THE AUTHOR S " HANSEL AND GRETEL" Here, Nancy, let me take your hand, And lead you back to Fairyland, In this fam'd tale of long ago. Told often in the sunset glow By mothers, lest their children roam In the dark forest, far from home. This lesson learn : that mothers know Where lurks, perchance, a hidden foe ; And though you may not understand The reason in each kind command. It is to keep you from the fear That terrified the children here. Learn, too, how God's own angels keep Your ways by day, your dreams, asleep. S8 ROGER ASCHAM {On seeing his miniature) Bending in thought, Elizabethan sage, The limner caught you for all future time ; The pensive pose, the far-off look sublime, Schoolmaster of an earlier, blither age. Your books have vanished ; from the printed page The song of birds, whenas the day's at prime, Has lured your thoughts ; no longer learned rhyme Delights you more than Springtide's glad presage. The casement open, through the window blows The first faint whisper of the April breeze, That rustles in the hawthorn bush which grows Beside your cottage ; in the spacious trees Murmurs amid the branches as it goes, " Come to the country all, and take your ease !' 59 IN AN ANTHOLOGY OF VERSE The lovelv words of many famous men Live in this book ; But fire from source more fair than mine, FU swear, None ever took. Thus, Lady, do I add my humble praise To theirs, more high ; That, your worth known, my Hnes, like theirs, may live And never die ! 60 ON HEARING THE PASTORAL SYMPHONY Spring ! and a thousand blossoms burgeoning ; The flying brook bounds toward the out- spread lea, Beneath the rugged mountain's majesty ; While joyous birds lift up their heads and sing. The world is all a gentle murmuring, Main theme of Nature's mighty symphony, That bids all creatures, wheresoe'er they be, Know joy, and hope, and love are everything. Master of music ! thou hast learnt the tune Of all things ; sung to men as fair a song As young Lorenzo said did once belong To the pale stars, when, on a night in June, He sat with Jessica the trees among, Beneath the glory of a springtide moon. 6i WITH A PHOTOGRAPH If you must hang my picture on the wall, Forget me ! Vd rather stav Lock'd in the treasury of my Lady's heart, That I might bear a part In giving life to loveliness. Yet keep my picture'd self ; for it may be An image, Like that which stands Far down a church, and leads my Lady's eyes To the true Self, which Hes Forever lost in loveliness. 62 TO PEGGY {On her eighth birthday) Could I turn back the intervening years, And be once more with you just eight years old Upon the threshold of the age of gold, When life a round of pleasant days appears ! I cannot live again this happy time, But must content me from the farther side Of shady forests, meadows fair and wide. To wish you godspeed and complete my rhyme 63 DURING MUSIC {The Poet dreams of meeting his Lady) O loveliest Lady of this lovely land, I hear the chords that sweep across the strings In the Andante where Beethoven brings The peace of Love to all who understand. Here for a time we wander, hand in hand, Beneath the clouds that spread their soft grey wings Above the snow-clad trees, the frozen springs That wait the touch of the Awakener's wand. The wand of Spring, now making all things new, Even as this music makes us grow more strong To love and hope, although despair last long. And the glad moments of our life be few ; Yet peace shall come when Love hath vanquish'd Wrong, — Such was the strain the dauntless trumpets blew 64 IN THE CITY {He rememhers past smnmer nights) Come dance To the tune Love, night, and desire, The smouldering fire Of pent-up delight. The wind Falls asleep ; In caves of the sea The \oYsi melody Of murmuring waves. The earth Is forgotten : The light from the town. The dancing, will drown All thought of the night. 65 IN YOUR WHITE ARMS In your white arms I'd lay me down And dream the world away : The passion, pain, the trivial care, The fever'd brain, the grev despair — I'd lose them all ; ave, they would go, In your white arms. Oh, your white arms are like the foam That curls across a wave, And they would shield me from the pain Of present things, and bring again The joy I knew ; for I could rest In your white arms. In your white arms Pd find the bliss The souls in Heaven know, And dream the dreams that men of old Once fought for ; on a ground of gold Great painters painted. Dreams were true In vour white arms ! 6G TO JEAN SIBELIUS {Ofi hearing his second symphony) O wondrous blossom of the northern world ! Now, winter over, thou hast burst in song : The mournful melodies of winter's wrong Miied with the scorn upon thy people hurPd. Thou singer of the woe of all mankind, I, too, can share thy passion and thy pain That lust of pleasure and the lure of gain Besmirch God's children and then leave them blind. 67 THE OUTCAST " Clarice," she said her name was ; " Born at Killiney — ^thats out Dublin way.'^ Her hat was blue ; her jersey grey": She was fair Ireland personified. Her hair was light, and curled ; Her blouse a trifle dirty ; but her air Made me forget the blemish there In a glad sense of jauntiness and youth. Her voice was pleasant too, With just a hint of roughness, and her laugh Scarce let me realise that half Of what she said was meant to lure me on. Yes, honest women frown If I suggest her shameful, sordid trade ; And yet, I think she'd not have said A single word with the intent to wound. And she had travelled too ; Had been to India, and the lovely clime Where mariners of olden time Sailed their frail ships in quest of argosies. 68 The social order sneers, " Perchance at first Love led her the wrong way." I wonder what Our Lord would sa,y, If He should write once more upon the sand ? II Everlasting Love ! 1 here beseech Thee, let Thy daughter see That ev'ry path may lead to Thee, Despite the windings that obscure the way. Where will Thy message be : In the wild turmoil of the city street, Or where the woodbine scent is sweet — In the glad country, in the summertime ? Perchance a memory Of hills forgotten twenty years ago, And one beside her singing low, May bring her back to perfect rest with Thee I 69 AUBADE C'est le jour De Tamour ; Notre asile Si tranquille. Les oiseaux Gais et beaux ; Chaque rose Toute eclose. C'est bien i'aube, Quand ta robe Briile au coin Du jardin. Jour supreme, Quand on aime ; C'est le temps Du printemps ! 70 REINCARNATION Joyless, I sat above a darken'd sea, Even as Odysseus sat long years ago And yearned to flee from lovely Calypso, No match, he deemed, for sweet Penelope. Not less did Oisin pine once more to be Enticed beyond where ships could sail or row. To the fair plain where countless flowers grow Through the long springtime of Eternity. Eager as these famed men in ancient lore, But still more blest, because to-day Restores the loveliness that lived before Over the turbid ocean's watery way, With mortal men upon some fairy shore — Now may I love more ardently than they ! TRAVEL SONG Over the brov^^ of the hill, Let us go to-gether ; If luck be good or ill, Gold or grey the weather. Look ! the road is stretching Underneath the trees ; Hark ! a brook is humming Tinkling melodies. What the long road's ending ? What to-morrow's weather ? Small matter to us treading All the road to-gether. 72