v>^ -5-, ,<.^ .^^ '^^. ■>. '> >0 o 'i'. '^^^ V^ ^^^ '^^. # \x^ ,^' Hlfred 'Cennyson Slitb XUuetrattons and Decorations Copyright, 1909, by STURGIS & WALTON COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1909 THE MASON-HENRY PRESS SYEACUSE AND NEW YORK ©CLA252774 I]sr )vie)vioRiH]vi h. R- fy. Obit mdcccxxxtii Strong Son of God, tmmortal Love, ^hom we, that have not seen thy face. By faith, and faith alone, embrace. Believing where we cannot prove; Chine are these orbs of light and shade; Chou madest Life in man and brute; Chou madest Death ; and lo, thy foot Is on the skull which thou hast made* Chou wilt not leave us in the dust: Chou madest man, he knows not why, Re thinks he was not made to die;» Hnd thou hast made him : thou art just. Chou seemest hutnan and divine, Che highest, holiest manhood, thou : Our wills are ours, we know not how ; Our wills are ours, to make them thine. Our little systems have their day; Chey have their day and cease to be : Chey are but broken lights of thee, Hnd thou, O Lord, art more than they. Cde have but faith : we cannot know ; for knowledge is of things we see; Hnd yet we trust it comes from thee, H beam in darkness : let it grow. Let knowledge grow from more to more. But more of reverence in us dwell ; Chat mind and soul, according well, JMay make one music as before, IN MeMORIHM But vaster, CCle are fools and slight; Qle mock thee when we do not fear But help thy foolish ones to bear; Relp thy vain worlds to bear thy light. forgive what seemed my sin in me ; ^hat seem'd my worth since I began ; for merit lives from man to man, Hnd not from man, O Lord, to thee. forgive my grief for one removed, t^hy creature, whom I found so fair. I trust he lives in thee, and there I find him worthier to be loved, . forgive these wild and wandering cries. Confusions of a wasted youth ; ' forgive them where they fail in truth, Hnd in thy wisdom make me wise, . 1849 I held it trutht with him who sings Co one clear harp in divers tones, Chat men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things* But who shall so forecast the years Hnd find in loss a gain to match ? Or reach a hand thro' time to catch Che far-off interest of tears ? Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drowned, Let darkness keep her raven gloss : Hht sweeter to be drunk with loss, Co dance with death, to beat the ground, Chan that the victor Rours should scorn Che long result of love, and boast, ^Behold the man that loved and lost. But all he was is overworn/ IN MeMORlHM u Old Y^w, which graspest at the stones Chat name the under-lying dead, Chy fibres net the dreamless head, Chy roots are wrapt about the bones* Che seasons bring the flower again, Hnd bring the firstling to the flock; Hnd in the dusk of thee^ the clock Beats out the little lives of men. O not for thee the glow, the bloom, Cdho changest not in any gale, J^or branding summer suns avail Co touch thy thousand years of gloom : Hnd gazing on thee, sullen tree. Sick for thy stubborn hardihood, I seem to fail from out my blood Hnd grow incorporate into thee* O Sorrow^ cruel fellowship, O priestess in the vaults of Death, O sweet and bitter in a breath, ^hat whispers from thy lying lip ? *Zhc stars/ she whispers, 'blindly run ; H web is wov^n across the sky ; from out waste places comes a cry, Hnd murmurs from the dying sun : 'Hnd all the phantom, feature, stands— CClith all the music in her tone, . H hollow echo of my own,— H hollow form with empty hands/ Hnd shall I take a thing so blind, Embrace her as my natural good; Or crush her, like a vice of blood, Qpon the threshold of the mind? 8 IN MeiMORIHM IT Co Sleep I give my powers away; ]My will is bondsman to the dark ; X sit within a belmless bark, Hnd with my heart X muse and say: O heart, how fares it with thee now, Chat thou should^st fail from thy desire, Qlho scarcely darest to inquire, 'Cdbat is it makes me beat so low ? ' Something it is which thou hast lost. Some pleasure from thine early years. Break, thou deep vase of chilling tears,' Chat grief hath shaken into frost] Such clouds of nameless trouble cross Hll night below the darkened eyes ; dith morning wakes the will, and cries, 'Chou shalt not be the fool of loss/ IN MeMORIHM I sotnetimes hold it half a sin Co put in words the grief I feel; for words, like JS^ature, half reveal Hnd half conceal the Soul within* But, for the unquiet heart and brain, H use in measured language lies ; Che sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. In words, like weeds. III wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold: But that large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more. TI One writes, that 'Other friends remain,' Chat Xoss is common to the race'— Hnd common is the commonplace, Hnd vacant chaff well meant for grain. IN MeMORIHM Chat loss IS coininon would not make f^y own less bitter, rather more : Coo common ! JVever morning wore Co evening, but some heart did break. O father, wheresoever thou be, Cdho pledgest now thy gallant son ; H shot, ere half thy draught be done, r>ath stiird the life that beat from thee. O mother, praying God will save Chy sailor, — while thy head is bow^d, Ris heavy-shotted hammock-shroud Drops in his vast and wandering grave. Y« know no more than I who wrought Ht that last hour to please him well ; CClho mused on all I had to tell, Hnd something written, something thought; 11 Gxpecting still his advent home ; Hud ever met him on his way dith wishes, thinking, *here to-day/ Or *here to-morrow will he come/ O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove. Chat sittest ranging golden hair; Hnd glad to find thyself so fair, poor child, that waitest for thy love ! for now her father's chimney glows In expectation of a guest; Hnd thinking 'this will please him best,' She takes a riband or a rose; for he will see them on to-night ; Hnd with the thought her colour bums ; Hnd, having left the glass, she turns Once more to set a ringlet right; 12 IN MeMORlHM Hnd, even when she tum'd, the curse Had f aUeiit and her future Lord das drown'd in passing thro' the ford, Or kiird in falling from his horse. O what to her shall be the end ? Hnd what to me remains of good ? Co her, perpetual maidenhood, Hnd unto me no second friend* Til Dark house, by which once more X stand Rere in the long unlovely street. Doors, where my heart was used to beat 80 quickly, waiting for a hand, H hand that can be clasped no more- Behold me, for X cannot sleep, Hnd like a guilty thing X creep Ht earliest morning to the doon Re le not here; but far away Che noise of life begins again^ Hnd ghastly tbro* the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day» Till H happy lover who has come Co look on her that loves him well, Cdho lights and rings the gateway bell, Hnd learns her gone and far from home; Re saddens, all the magic light Dies off at once from bower and hall, Hnd all the place is dark, and all Che chambers emptied of delight : So find I every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, Che field, the chamber and the street, for all is dark where thou art not* IN MeMORlHM Yet as that other, wandering there Xn those deserted walks, may find H flower beat with rain and wind, ^hich once she fostered up with care ; Bo seems it in my deep regret, my forsaken heart, with thee Hnd this poor flower of poesy Cdhich little cared for fades not yet* But since it pleased a vanished eye, 1 go to plant it on his tomb, Chat if it can it there may bloom. Or dying, there at least may die. IX fair ship, that from the Italian shore Bailest the placid ocean-plains cr place is empty, fall like these; 20 IN MeMORIHM Cdhich weep a loss for ever new^ H void where heart on heart reposed; Hndt where warm hands have prest and closed, dilencet till X be silent too* CClhich weep the comrade of my choice, Hn awful thought, a life removed, Che human-hearted man X loved, H Spirit, not a breathing voice* Come Cime, and teach me, many years, I do not suffer in a dream ; for now so strange do these things seem, JMine eyes have leisure for their tears ; ]My fancies time to rise on wing, Hnd glance about the approaching sails, Hs tho' they brought but merchant's bales, Hnd not the burthen that they bring. IN MeMORlHM XIT If one should bring me this report, Cbat thou badet toucb^d tbe land to-day, Hnd I went down unto tbe quay, Hnd found tbee lying in tbe port ; Hnd standing, muffled round witb woe, Sbould see tby passengers in rank Come stepping ligbtly down tbe plank, Hnd beckoning unto tbose tbey know ; Hnd if along witb tbese sbould come Cbe man I beld as balf -divine ; Sbould strike a sudden band in mine, Hnd ask a thousand things of home ; Hnd I sbould tell him all my pain, Hnd how my life had droop'd of late, Hnd he sbould sorrow o^er my state Hnd marvel what possessed my brain ; ^z Hnd X perceived no touch of change^ ]Vo hint of death in all his frame, But found him all in all the eame, X should not feel it to be strange^ Co-night the winds begin to rise Hnd roar from yonder dropping day : Che last red leaf is whirrd away, Che rooks are blown about the skies ; Che forest cracked, the waters curfd, Che cattle huddled on the lea ; Hnd wildly dashed on tower and tree Che sunbeam strikes along the world : Hnd but for fancies, which aver Chat all thy motions gently pass Hthwart a plane of molten glass, X scarce could brook the strain and stir 23 Chat makes the barren branches loud ; Hnd but for fear it is not so, Che wild unrest that lives in woe e loves to tnahe parade of pain, Cbat witb bis piping be may gain Cbe praise tbat conies to constancy/ H tbird is wrotb : *Is tbis an bour fbr private sorrow^s barren song, Slben more and more tbe people tbrong Cbe cbairs and tbrones of civil power ? 'H time to sicken and to swoon, Cdben Science reacbes f ortb ber arms Co feel from world to world, and cbarms Rer secret from tbe latest moon ?* Bebold, yc speak an idle tbing : Yc never knew tbe sacred dust X do but sing because I must, Hnd pipe but as tbe linnets sing : 31 Hud one is glad; hcv note is gay, for now her little ones have ranged ; Hnd one is sad ; her note is changed. Because her brood is stoVn away* XXII €he path by which we twain did go, CClhich led by tracts that pleased us well, Chro' four sweet years arose and fell, from flower to flower, from snow to snow : Hnd we with singing cheered the way, Hnd, crown'd with all the season lent, from Hpril on to Hpril went, Hnd glad at heart from )VIay to JMay: But where the path we walk'd began Co slant the fifth autumnal slope, Hs we descended following Rope, Chere sat the Shadow feared of man ; 3^ But where the path w« walked fi /f f\ began *h \ Co elant the fifth autumnal slope Hs we descended follow ing Rope tij Chere sat the Shadow fear'd of man y vHho brohe our fair companion ship, 'Ind spread bis mantle darh and cold, Hnd wrapt thee formless in the fold, Hnd dulled the murmur on th5> lip. Hnd bore thee where I could not sec ]Vlor follow, tbo' I walk in baste. Hnd think that somewhere in the waste Che Shadow sits and waits for me. CClho broke our fair companionsbip, Hnd spread his mantle dark and cold. Hnd wrapt thee formless in the fold, Hnd duird the murmur on thy lip, Hnd bore thee where X could not see ]^or follow, tho' X walk in haste, Hnd think, that somewhere in the waste Che Shadow sits and waits for me» XXIII JS^ow, sometimes in my sorrow shut. Or breaking into song by fits, Hlone, alone, to where he sits, Che Shadow cloak'd from head to foot, Cdho keeps the keys of all the creeds, X wander, often falling lame, Hnd looking back to whence X came, Or on to where the pathway leads ; IN MeMORIHM Hnd crying, Row changed from where it ran Chro* lands where not a leaf was dumb, But all the lavish hills would hum Che murmur of a happy pan : ^hen each by turns was guide to each, Hnd fancy light from fancy caught, Hnd Thought leaped out to wed with Chought 6re Chought could wed itself with Speech ; Hnd all we met was fair and good, Hnd all was good that Cime could bring, Hnd all the secret of the Spring JMoved in the chambers of the blood ; Hnd many an old philosophy On Hrgive heights divinely sang, Hnd round us all the thicket rang Co many a flute of Hrcady* %m IN MeMORlHM XXIT Hud was the day of my delight Hs pure and perfect as I say ? Che very source and fount of Day Is dashed with wandering isles of night. Xf all was good and fair we met, Chis earth had been the paradise It never looked to human eyes Since our first Bun arose and set* Hnd is it that the haze of grief JMakes former gladness loom so great ? Che lowness of the present state, Chat sets the past in this relief ? Or that the past will always win H glory from its being far; Hnd orb into the perfect star Cde saw not, when we moved therein ? 55 IN MeMORlHM XXT I know that this was Life,— the track CClhereon with equal feet we fared; Hnd then, as now, the day prepared Che daily burden for the back* But this it was that made me move Hs light as carrier-birds in air; I loved the weight I had to bear. Because it needed help of Love: ]Vor could X weary, heart or limb, ^hen mighty Love would cleave in twain Che lading of a single pain, Hnd part it, giving half to him* XXTI Still onward winds the dreary way; X with it; for I long to prove ]Vo lapse of moons can canker Love, Cdhatever fickle tongues may say. 36 IN MeiMORlHM find if that eye which watches guilt Hnd goodnesst and hath power to eee Slithin the green the mouldered tree^ Hnd towers fairn as soon as built— Oht if indeed that eye foresee Or see (in Rim is no before) In more of life true life no more Hnd Love the indifference to be, Chen might I find, ere yet the mom Breaks hither over Indian seas, Chat Shadow waiting with the keys, Co shroud me from my proper scorn* XXTII I envy not in any moods Che captive void of noble rage, Che linnet born within the cage. Chat never knew the summer woods : X envy not the beast that takes DCs licence in the field of time, Unfettered by the sense of crime, Co whom a conscience never wakes; ]Vor, what may count itself as blest, Che heart that never plighted troth But stagnates in the weeds of sloth; ]^or any want-begotten rest* I hold it true, whatever befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; Xis better to have loved and lost Chan never to have loved at alt XXTIII Che time draws near the birth of Christ: Che moon is hid ; the night is still ; Che Christmas bells from hill to hill Hnswer each other in the mist. 38 IN MeMORIHM f^our voices of four hamlets round, ■prom far and near, on mead and moor. Swell out and fail, as if a door ^ere shut between me and the sound : each voice four changes on the wind. Chat now dilate, and now decrease, peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, peace and goodwill, to all mankind. Chis year I slept and woke with pain, X almost wished no more to wake, Hnd that my hold on life would break Before I heard those bells again : But they my troubled spirit rule, for they controlled me when a boy; Chey bring me sorrow touched with joy, Che merry merry bells of ^wle* 3^ IN MejMORIHM CClith such compeUing cause to grieve Hs daily vexes household peace^ Hnd chains regret to his decease, Row dare we keep our Christmas-eve; ^hich brings no more a welcome guest Co enrich the threshold of the night CKith showered largess of delight In dance and song and game and jest ? Yet go, and while the holly boughs entwine the cold baptismal font, )Make one wreath more for Use and Cdont, Chat guard the portals of the house; Old sisters of a day gone by, Gray nurses, loving nothing new ; •Klhy should they miss their yearly due Before their time ? Chey too will die. ^li ^ '^-^7?^ IN MeMORIHM XXX CClitb trembUng fingers did we weave Che holly round the Christmas hearth; H rainy cloud possessed the earth, Hnd sadly fell our Christmas-eve. Ht our old pastimes in the hall Cde gamboird, making vain pretence Of gladness, with an awful sense Of one mute Shadow watching alt Cde paused : the winds were in the beech : Cde heard them sweep the winter land ; Hnd in a circle hand-in-hand Sat silent, looking each at each. Chen echo-like our voices rang ; CCle sung, tho' every eye was dim, H merry song we sang with him Last year : impetuously we sang ; 4^ IN MeMORIHM Cde ceased : a gentler feeling crept Upon us: surely rest is meet: 'Chey rest/ we said, 'their sleep is sweet/ Hnd silence followed, and we wept* Our voices took a higher range ; Once more we sang : *Zhcy do not die JVor lose their mortal s>mipathy, ]Vor change to us, although they change; *Rapt from the fickle and the frail Clith gathered power, yet the same, pierces the keen seraphic flame from orb to orb, from veil to veiU' Rise, happy mom, rise, holy mom, Draw forth the cheerful day from night: O father, touch the east, and light Che light that shone when Rope was bom. ^2 ^ben Lazarus left bis cbarncl-cave, Hnd botnc to JMary^s bouse retum*d^ Cdas tbis demanded— if be yearned Co bear ber weeping by bis grave ? *CClbere wert tbou, brotber, tbose four days ? * Cbere lives no record of reply, dbicb telling wbat it is to die Rad surely added praise to praise. f^rom every bouse tbe neigbbours met, Cbe streets were f ill'd witb joyful sound, H solemn gladness ever crown'd Cbe purple brows of Olivet* Bebold a man raised up by Cbrist I Cbe rest remainetb unreveard ; Re told it not; or sometbing sealed Cbe lips of tbat evangelist. r>er eyes are homes of silent prayer^ JS^or other thoughts her mind admits Butt he was dead, and there he sits, Hnd he that brought him back is there. Chen one deep love doth supersede Hll other, when her ardent gaze Roves from the living brother's face, Hnd rests upon the Life indeed* Hll subtle thought, all curious fears, Borne down by gladness so complete. She bows, she bathes the Saviour's feet Ulith costly spikenard and with tears. Chrice blest whose lives are faithful prayers, Cdhose loves in higher love endure ; CClhat souls possess themselves so pure. Or is there blessedness like theirs ? 44 Lj^S^S:^ZJSt^(^^^^. IN MeMORlHM XXXIII O thou that after toil and storm JMayst seem to have reached a purer air, Cdhose faith has centre ever)nvhere, ]Vor cares to fix itself to form, Leave thou thy sister when she prays, Rer early Reaven, her happy views ; ]Vor thou with shadowed hint confuse H life that leads melodious days* Rer faith thro^ form is pure as thine, Rer hands are quicker unto good : Oh, sacred be the flesh and blood Co which she links a truth divine ! 8ee thou, that countest reason ripe In holding by the law within, Chou fail not in a world of sin, Hnd ev'n for want of such a type* ]VIy own dim life should teach me this. Chat life should live for evermore, 6lse earth is darkness at the core, Hnd dust and ashes all that is ; Chis round of green, this orb of flame, fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim* ^hat then were God to such as I ? 'Cwere hardly worth my while to choose Of things all mortal, or to use H little patience ere I die ; Xwere best at once to sink to peace, Like birds the charming serpent draws, Co drop head-foremost in the jaws Of vacant darkness and to cease* p ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B m 1 IN MeMORIHM 1 m XXXT m 1 Yet if some voice that man could trust Should ttiurmur from the narrow house, *Che cheeks drop in ; the body bows ; * )VIan dies: nor is there hope in dust:* 1 1 JMight X not say ? 'Yet even here, But for one hour, O Love, I strive Co keep so sweet a thing alive :* But I should turn mine ears and hear 1 Che moanings of the homeless sea, Che sound of streams that swift or slow Draw down BBonian hills, and sow Che dust of continents to be; 1 Hnd Love would answer with a sigh, *Che sound of that forgetful shore ^hen truth embodied in a tale Shall enter in at lowly doors. 48 IN MeMORIHlM Hnd 90 the CClord bad breath, and wrought CKith human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, IMore strong than all poetic thought; CClhich be may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the bouse, or digs the grave, Hnd those wild eyes that watch the wave In roarings round the coral reef* XXXTII Clrania speaks with darkened brow : Xhou pratest here where thou art least; Chis faith has many a purer priest, Hnd many an abler voice than thou* '60 down beside thy native rill, On thy Parnassus set thy feet, Hnd hear thy laurel whisper sweet Hbout the ledges of the hill/ 49 IN MejMORlHlM Bnd my JMelpomene replies, H touch of shame upon her cheek ; *X am not worthy ev^n to speak Of thy prevailing mysteries ; *fov I am but an earthly JMuset Hnd owning but a little art Co lull with song an aching heart, Hnd render human love his dues ; *But brooding on the dear one dead, Hnd all he said of things divine, (Hnd dear to me as sacred wine Co dying lips is all he said), *X murmured, as I came along, Of comfort clasped in truth revealed ; Hnd loitered in the master's field, Hnd darkened sanctities with song/ IN MeMORlHM ^ith weary steps I loiter on, XLM always under altered skies Che purple from tbe distance dies, JMy prospect and horizon gone. J^o joy the blowing season gives, Che herald melodies of spring, But in the songs I love to sing H doubtful gleam of solace lives* Xf any care for what is here Survive in spirits rendered free, Chen are these songs I sing of thee JSfot all ungrateful to thine ear. XXXIX Old warder of these buried bones, Hnd answering now my random stroke dith fruitful cloud and living smoke, Dark yew> that graspest at the stones IN MeMORIHM Hnd dippcst toward the dreamless bead, Co thee too comes the golden hour CClhen flower is feeling after flower ; But Sorrow— fixt upon the dead, Hnd darkening the dark graves of men,— Olhat whispered from her lying lips : Chy gloom is kindled at the tips, Hnd passes into gloom again* XL Could we forget the widowed hour Hnd look on Spirits breathed away, Hs on a maiden in the day Cdhen first she wears her orange-flower I CClhen crowned with blessing she doth rise Co take her latest leave from home, Hnd hopes and light regrets that come JMake Hpril of her tender eyes ; 5^ IN MeMORIHM Hnd doubtful joys the father move, Hnd tears are on the mother's face, Hs parting with a long embrace She enters other realms of love; Rer office there to rear, to teach, Becoming as is meet and fit H link among the days, to knit Che generations each with each ; Hnd, doubtless, unto thee is given H life that bears immortal fruit In those great offices that suit Che full-grown energies of heaven* Ry me, the difference I discern ! Row often shall her old fireside Be cheered with tidings of the bride, Row often she herself return, IN MeMORIHM Hud tell tbcm all they would have told, Hnd bring her babe, and make her boast, Cill even those that missed her most Shall count new things as dear as old : But thou and I have shaken hands, Cill growing winters lay me low ; JMy paths are in the fields I know, Hnd thine in undiscovered lands* XLI Chy spirit ere our fatal loss Did ever rise from high to higher ; Hs mounts the heavenward altar-fire, Hs flies the lighter thro' the gross* But thou art turn'd to something strange, Hnd I have lost the links that bound Chy changes ; here upon the ground, ]Vo more partaker of thy change* 54 Deep folly ! yet that this could be— Chat I could wing my will with might Co leap the grades of life and light, Hnd flash at once, my friend, to thee* for tho' my nature rarely yields Co that vague fear implied in death ; IS^or shudders at the gulfs beneath, Che bowlings from forgotten fields ; Yet oft when sundown skirts the moor Hn inner trouble I behold, H spectral doubt which makes me cold, Chat I shall be thy mate no more. Cho' following with an upward mind Che wonders that have come to thee, Chro* all the secular to-be. But evermore a life behind* 55 I vex my heart with fancies dim : Re still outstript me in the race ; It was but unity of place Chat made me dream X ranked with him. Hnd so may Place retain us still, Hnd he the much-beloved again, H lord of large experience, train Co riper growth the mind and will : Hnd what delights can equal those Chat stir the spirits inner deeps, ^hen one that loves but knows not, reaps H truth from one that loves and knows ? XLIIl If Sleep and Death be truly one, Hnd every spirit^s folded bloom Chro' all its intervital gloom In some long trance should slumber on ; IN MeMORIHM dnconscious of the sliding hour, Bare of the body, might it last, Hnd silent traces of the past Be all the colour of the flower : 80 then were nothing lost to man ; 80 that still garden of the souls In many a figured leaf enrolls Che total world since life began ; Hnd love will last as pure and whole Hs when he loved me here in Cime, Hnd at the spiritual prime Rewaken with the dawning souU XLIT Row fares it with the happy dead ? for here the man is more and more ; But he forgets the days before 6od shut the doorways of his head^ 57 IN MeiMORIHM Che days have vanished, tone and tint, Hnd yet perhaps the hoarding sense Gives out at times (he knows not whence) H little flash, a mystic hint; Hnd in the long harmonious years (If Death so taste Lethean springs), )May some dim touch of earthly things Surprise thee ranging with thy peers. If such a dreamy touch should fall, O turn thee round, resolve the doubt; JMy guardian angel will speak out In that high place, and tell thee alt Che baby new to earth and sky, Cdhat time his tender palm is prest Hgainst the circle of the breast, Has never thought that 'this is I:* But as he grows be gathers much, Hnd learns the use of %* and 'me/ Hnd finds *X am not what X see, Hnd other than the things I touch/ 80 rounds he to a separate mind from whence clear memory may begin, Hs thro' the frame that binds him in T>\Q isolation grows defined* Chis use may lie in blood and breath, ^hich else were fruitless of their due, Rad man to learn himself anew Beyond the second birth of Death* XLTI ^e ranging down this lower track, Che path we came by, thorn and flower. Is shadowed by the growing hour. Lest life should fail in looking back. 59 So be it : there no shade can last In that deep dawn behind the tomb, But clear from marge to marge shall bloom Che eternal landscape of the past; H lifelong tract of time revealed ; Che fruitful hours of still increase; Days ordered in a wealthy peace, Hnd those five years its richest fields O Love, thy province were not large, H bounded field, nor stretching far ; Look also. Love, a brooding star, H rosy warmth from marge to marge* XLTII Chat each, who seems a separate whole. Should move his rounds, and fusing all Che skirts of self again, should fall Remerging in the general Soul, 60 IN MeMORIHM Is faith as vague as all unsweet : eternal form shall still divide Che eternal soul from all beside ; Hnd I shall know him when we meet : Hnd we shall sit at endless feast, enjoying each the other^s good : CClhat vaster dream can hit the mood Of Love on earth ? Re seehs at least Upon the last and sharpest height, Before the spirits fade away, Some landing-place, to clasp and say, 'farewell ! Cde lose ourselves in light/ XLTIII If these brief lays, of Sorrow born, ^ere taken to be such as closed Grave doubts and answers here proposed, Chen these were such as men might scorn : 61 IN MeMORIHM Rer care is not to part and prove; She takeSt when harsher moods remit, Cdhat slender shade of doubt may flit, Hnd makes it vassal unto love : Hnd hence, indeed, she sports with words. But better serves a wholesome law, Hnd holds it sin and shame to draw Che deepest measure from the chords : ]Vor dare she trust a larger lay. But rather loosens from the lip Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Cheir wings in tears, and skim away. XLIX from art, from nature, from the schools. Let random influences glance. Like light in many a shivered lance Chat breaks about the dappled pools : 6z Che lightest wave of thought shall lisp, Che fancy's tenderest eddy wreathe, Che slightest air of song shall breathe Co make the sullen surface crisp, Hnd look thy look, and go thy way But blame not thou the winds that make Che seeming-wanton ripple breaks Che tender-penciird shadow play* Beneath all fancied hopes and fears Hy me, the sorrow deepens down, ^hose muffled motions blindly drown Che bases of my life in tears. Be near me when my light is low, ^hen the blood creeps, and the nerves prick Hnd tingle; and the heart is sick, Hnd all the wheels of Being slow. IN MeMORIHM Be near me when the sensuous frame Is rach^d with pangs that conquer trust; Hnd Ome, a maniac scattering dust, Hnd Life, a fury stinging flame* Be near me when my faith is dry, Hnd men the flies of latter spring. Chat lay their eggs, and sting and sing Hnd weave their petty cells and die* Be near me when I fade away, Co point the term of human strife, Hnd on the low dark verge of life Che twilight of eternal day* Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? )Vo inner vileness that we dread ? 64 IN MeMORlHM Shall he for whose applause X strovet X had such reverence for his blames See with clear eye some hidden shame Hnd X be lessened in his love ? X wrong the grave with fears untrue : Shall love be blamed for want of faith? Chere must be wisdom with great Death: Che dead shall look me thro' and thro^ Be near us when we climb or fall : Ye watch, like 6od, the rolling hours Glith larger other eyes than ours, Co make allowance for us all* LII I cannot love thee as X ought, for love reflects the thing beloved ; )VIy words are only words, and moved Clpon the topmost froth of thought* SP IN MeMORlHM *Y«t blame not thou thy plaintive song/ Cbe Spirit of true love replied ; *Chou canst not move me from thy side, ]Vor human frailty do me wrong. 'Cdhat keeps a spirit wholly true Co that ideal which he bears ? CClhat record? not the sinless years Chat breathed beneath the Syrian blue : *So fret nott like an idle girl, Chat life is dash'd with flecks of sin* Hbide : thy wealth is gathered in, ^hen Cime hath sundered shell from pearl/ Row many a father have X seen, H sober man, among his boys, dhose youth was full of foolish noise, Cdho wears his manhood hale and green : 66 IN MeiMORIHM Hnd dare we to this fancy give^ Cbat had the wild oat not been sown Che soil, left barren, scarce had grown Che grain by which a man may live ? Or, if we held the doctrine sound for life outliving heats of youth. Yet who would preach it as a truth Co those that eddy round and round ? Rold thou the good : define it well : for fear divine philosophy Should push beyond her mark, and be procuress to the Lords of RelU LIT Oh yet we trust that somehow good CClill be the final goal of ill, Co pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood ; ^7 IN MeMORIHM Cbat nothing walhs with aimless feet; Chat not one life shall be destro/d, Or cast as rubbish to the void, ^hen God hath made the pile complete; Chat not a worm is cloven in vain ; Chat not a moth with vain desire Is shriveird in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another^s gain* Behold, we know not any thing; I can but trust that good shall fall Ht last— far off —at last, to all, Hnd every winter change to spring* 80 runs my dream : but what am I ? Hn infant crying in the night: Hn infant crying for the light: Hnd with no language but a cry* 68 M 1 falter where I firmly trod, Hnd falling with my weight of carc9 Qpon the great world's altar stairs Cbat slope thro darkness up to 6od, ^ 1 stretch lame hands of faith, ^ and grope, Hnd gather dust and chaff, and call Co what I feel is Lord of all. Hnd faintly trust the larger hope. IN MejMORIHM LT Che wisht that of the living whole ]^o life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have Che likest God within the soul ? Hre 6od and JS^ature then at strife, Chat JVature lends such evil dreams ? So careful of the type she seems, 80 careless of the single life; Chat Xt considering everywhere Rer secret meaning in her deeds, Hnd finding that of fifty seeds She often brings but one to bear. I falter where I firmly trod, Hnd falling with my weight of cares dpon the great world^s altar-stairs Chat slope thro* darkness up to God 69 IN MeiMORIHM I stretch lame bands of f aitbt and grope, Hud gather dust and chaff, and call Co what I feel is Lord of all, Hnd faintly trust the larger hope* LTI *8o careful of the type?* but no* from scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, *H thousand types are gone ; X care for nothing, all shall go* *Chou makest thine appeal to me : I bring to life, I bring to death : Che spirit does but mean the breath : I know no more** Hnd he, shall he. ]VIan, her last work, who seemed so fair. Such splendid purpose in his eyes, CClho roird the psalm to wintry skies, ow vain am II Row should he love a thing so low?* If, in thy second state sublime, Chy ransomed reason change replies Cdith all the circle of the wise, Che perfect flower of human time; 75 Hud if thou cast thine eyes below, Row dimly charactered and slight, Row dwarf d a growth of cold and night, Row blanch'd with darkness must I growl Yet turn thee to the doubtful shore, CClhere thy first form was made a man ; I loved thee, Spirit, and love, nor can Che soul of Shakespeare love thee more. LXII Cho' if an eye thafs downward cast Could make thee somewhat blench or fail, Chen be my love an idle tale, Hnd fading legend of the past; Hnd thou, as one that once declined, Cdhen he was little more than boy. On some unworthy heart with joy, But lives to wed an equal mind ; 7^ IN MeiMORlHM Hnd breathes a novel world, the while Ris other passion wholly dies. Or in the light of deeper eyes Is matter for a flying smile* LXIIl Yet pity for a horse o^er-driven, Hnd love in which my hound has part Can hang no weight upon my heart In its assumptions up to heaven ; Hnd I am so much more than these, Hs thou, perchance, art more than I, Hnd yet I spare them sympathy, Hnd I would set their pains at ease. 80 mayst thou watch me where I weep, Hs, unto vaster motions bound, Che circuits of thine orbit round H higher height, a deeper deep* £\'ftj ^W. M M m rm IN MejMORIHM LXIT Dost tbou look back on what hath been, Hs some divinely gifted man, Cdhose life in low estate began Hnd on a simple village green; Cdho breaks his birth^s invidious bar, Hnd grasps the skirts of happy chance, Hnd breasts the blows of circumstance, Hnd grapples with his evil star ; Cdho makes by force his merit known Hnd lives to clutch the golden keys, Co mould a mighty staters decrees, Hnd shape the whisper of the throne; mc ^^^'^l Hnd moving up from high to higher. Becomes on fortune's crowning slope Che pillar of a people's hope, Che centre of a world's desire; IN MeMORlHM Yet f eelSt as in a pensive dream^ ^hen all his active powers are still, H distant dearness in the hill, H secret sweetness in the stream, Che limit of his narrower fate, Cdhile yet beside its vocal springs Re played at counsellors and kings, Cdith one that was his earliest mate ; CClho ploughs with pain his native lea Hnd reaps the labour of his hands, 0rtn the furrow musing stands ; *Does my old friend remember me?' 79 IN MeMORlHM Rnd in that solace can I sing, Cill out of painful phases wrought Chere flutters up a hap'py thought, Self-balanced on a lightsome tving: Since we deserved the name of friends, Hnd thine effect so lives in me^. H part of mine may live in thee Hnd move thee on to noble ends* LXTI You thought my heart too far diseased; You wonder when my fancies play Co find me gay among the gay. Like one with any trifle pleased* Che shade by which my life was crost, Cdhich makes a desert in the mind, Ras made me kindly with my kind, Hnd like to him whose sight is lost ; 80 mhoQc feet are guided thro* the land, ^hose jest among his friends is free, ^ho takes the children on his knee, Hnd winds their curls about his hand : Re plays with threads, he beats his chair for pastime, dreaming of the sky; Ris inner day can never die, Ris night of loss is always there. LXTII Cdhen on my bed the moonlight falls, X know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, Chere comes a glory on the walls : Chy marble bright in dark appears, Hs slowly steals a' silver flame Hlong the letters of thy name, Hnd o^er the number of thy years. Ml IN nenoKvm Che mystic glory swims away; from off my bed the moonlight dies ; Hnd closing eaves of wearied eyes I sleep till dush is dipt in grey : Hnd then I know the mist is drawn H lucid veil from coast to coast, Hnd in the dark church like a ghost Chy tablet glimmers to the dawn» LXTIH CClhen in the down I sink my head, Bleep, Death^s twin-brother, times my breath ; Sleep, Death's twin-brother, knows not Death, f^or can X dream of thee as dead : I walk as ere I walked forlorn, CClhen all our path was fresh with dew, Hnd all the bugle breezes blew Reveillee to the breaking morn. Sz But what 19 this ? I turn about^ X find a trouble in thine eye, Cdhich makes wk sad X know not why, ]Vor can my dream resolve the doubt : But ere the lark hath left the lea X wake, and X discern the truth ; It is the trouble of my youth Chat foolish sleep transfers to thee. LXIX X dreamed there would be spring no more, Chat JVature's ancient power was lost; Che streets were black with smoke and frost, Chey chattered trifles at the door : X wandered from the noisy town, X found a wood with thorny boughs : X took the thorns to bind my brows, X wore them like a civic crown : 83 X met with scoffs, I met with scorns from youth and babe and hoary hairs Chey caird me in the public squares Che fool that wears a crown of thorns : Chey caird me fool, they caird me child : X found an angel of the night ; Che voice was low, the look was bright ; Re looh'd upon my crown and smiled: Re reached the glory of a hand, Chat seemed to touch it into leaf : Che voice was not the voice of grief, Che words were hard to understand* LXX X cannot see the features right, CClhen on the gloom X strive to paint Che face X know ; the hues are faint Hnd mix with hollow masks of night ; 84 IN MeiMORIHM Cloud-towers by ghostly masons wrought^ H gulf that ever shuts and gapes, H hand that points, and palled shapes In shadowy thoroughfares of thought ; Hnd crowds that stream from yawning doors, Hnd shoals of puckered faces drive ; Dark bulks that tumble half alive, Hnd lazy lengths on boundless shores; Cill all at once beyond the will X heard a wizard music roll, Hnd thro' a lattice on the soul Looks thy fair face and makes it still. LXXI Sleep, kinsman thou to death and trance Hnd madness, thou hast forged at last H night-long present of the past In which we went thro' summer france* 85 IN MeMORIHM Radst tbou sucb credit with the soul? Chen bring an opiate trebly strong, Drug down the blindfold sense of wrong Chat so my pleasure may be whole ; ^hile now we talk as once we talked Of men and minds, the dust of change, Che days that grow to something strange, Xn walking as of old we walked Beside the river's wooded reach, Che fortress, and the mountain ridge, Che cataract flashing from the bridge, Che breaker breaking on the beach. LXXII Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, Hnd howlest, issuing out of night, ^ith blasts that blow the poplar white, Hnd lash with storm the streaming pane ? IN MeMORIHM Day, when tny crown'd estate begun Co pine in that reverse of doom, Cdhich sickened every living bloom, Hnd blurred the splendour of the sun ; CKho usherest in the dolorous hour Cdith thy quick tears that make the rose pull sideways, and the daisy close Rer crimson fringes to the shower ; ^ho might*st have heaved a windless flame Up the deep Bast, or, whispering, played H chequer- work of beam and shade Hlong the hills, yet looked the same* Hs wan, as chill, as wild as now ; Day, marked as with some hideous crime, CClhen the dark hand struck down thro^ time, Hnd canceird nature's best : but thou, Lift as thou inayst thy burtben^d brows Cbro' clouds tbatdrencbtbemorningstar, Hnd whirl the ungarner'd sheaf afar, Hnd sow the sky with flying boughs, Hnd up thy vault with roaring sound Climb thy thick noon, disastrous day ; Couch thy dull goal of joyless grey, Hnd hide thy shame beneath the ground. LXXIII So many worlds, so much to do, 80 little done, such things to be, Row know X what had need of thee, for thou wert strong as thou wert true? Che fame is quenched that I foresaw, Che head hath miss'd an earthly wreath I curse not nature, no, nor death; for nothing is that errs from law. 88 CCle pass ; the path that each man trod Is dim, or will be dim, with weeds : ^hat fame is left for human deeds In endless age ? It rests with God* O hollow wraith of dying fame, fade wholly, while the soul exults, Hnd self -infolds the large results Of force that would have forged a name* LXXIT Hs sometimes in a dead man^s face, Co those that watch it more and more, H likeness, hardly seen before. Comes out— to some one of his race : 80, dearest, now thy brows are cold, I see thee what thou art, and know Chy likeness to the wise below, Chy kindred with the great of old* IN MejMORIHM But there is more than X can see, Hnd what I see I leave unsaid, JS^or speak it, knowing Death has made Ris darkness beautiful with thee* LXXT X leave thy praises unexpressed In verse that brings myself relief, Hnd by the measure of my grief I leave thy greatness to be guessed ; ^hat practice, howsoever expert In fitting aptest words to things. Or voice the richest-toned that sings, Rath power to give thee as thou wert ? I care not in these fading days Co raise a cry that lasts not long, Hnd round thee with the breeze of song Co stir a little dust of praise* IN MeMORIHM Chy leaf has perished in the green, Hnd, while we breathe beneath the sun, Che world which credits what is done Is cold to all that might have been. 80 here shall silence guard thy fame ; But somewhere, out of human view, ^hateVr thy hands are set to do Is wrought with tumult of acclaim* LXXTI Cake wings of fancy, and ascend, Hnd in a moment set thy face CKhere all the starry heavens of space Hre sharpened to a needle's end; Cake wings of foresight ; lighten thro' Che secular abyss to come, Hnd lo, thy deepest lays are dumb Before the mouldering of a yew ; Hnd if the matin songs, that woke Che darkness of our planet, last, Chine own shall wither in the vast, 6re half the lifetime of an oak* 6re these have clothed their branchy bowers ^ith fifty )Mays, thy songs are vain : Hnd what are they when these remain Che ruined shells of hollow towers ? LXXTII Cdhat hope is here for modern rhyme Co him who turns a musing eye On songs, and deeds, and lives, that lie foreshortened in the tract of time ? Chese mortal lullabies of pain JMay bind a book, may line a box, JMay serve to curl a maiden^s locks, Or when a thousand moons shall wane 9^ IN MeMORlHM H man upon a stall may find, Hnd, passing, turn the page that tells H grief, then changed to something else, Sung by a long-forgotten mind* But what of that ? )VIy darkened ways Shall ring with music all the same; Co breathe my loss is more than fame, Co utter love more sweet than praise* LXXTllI Hgain at Christmas did we weave Che holly round the Christmas hearth; Che silent snow possessed the earth, Hnd calmly fell our Christmas-eve : Che yule-clog sparkled keen with frost, ]Vo wing of wind the region swept. But over all things brooding slept Che quiet sense of something lost* 9* IN MeMORlHM Hs in tbe winters left behind, Hgain our ancient games had place, Che mimic picture^s breathing grace, Hnd dance and song and hoodman-blind. CClho showed a token of distress ? )Vo single tear, no mark of pain : O sorrow, then can sorrow wane ? O grief, can grief be changed to less ? O last regret, regret can die ! ]So— mixt with all this mystic frame, T>cv deep relations are the same. But with long use her tears are dry. LXXIX ^JMore than my brothers are to me,*— Let this not vex thee, noble heart! I know thee of what force thou art Co hold the costliest love in fee* IN MeMORlHM But thou and I are one in kind, Hs moulded like in f^ature^s mint ; Hnd hill and wood and field did print Che same sweet forms in either mind* for us the same cold streamlet curled Chro' all his eddying coves ; the same Hll winds that roam the twilight came In whispers of the beauteous world. Ht one dear knee we proffered vows. One lesson from one book we learned, 6re childhood^s flaxen ringlet turned Co black and brown on kindred brows* Hnd so my wealth resembles thine, But he was rich where I was poor, Hnd he supplied my want the more Hs his unlikeness fitted mine* 95 If an>> vague desire should rise, Chat holy Death ere Hrthur died Rad moved me kindly from his side, Hnd dropt the dust on tearless eyes ; Chen fancy shapes, as fancy can, Che grief my loss in him had wrought. H grief as deep as life or thought, But stayed in peace with God and man. X make a picture in the brain ; I hear the sentence that he speaks ; T>c bears the burthen of the weeks, But turns his burthen into gain. Ris credit thus shall set me free; Hnd, influence rich to soothe and save. Unused example from the grave Reach out dead hands to comfort me* IN IMeMORIHM LXXXI Could X bave said while be was here, *J^y love shall now no further range; Chere cannot come a mellower change, for now is love mature in ear/ Love, then, had hope of richer store ; Cdhat end is here to my complaint ? Chis haunting whisper makes me faint, ^JMore years had made me love thee more/ But death returns an answer sweet: * jMy sudden frost was sudden gain. Hud gave all ripeness to the grain. It might have drawn from after-heat/ LXXXII X wage not any feud with Death for changes wrought on form and face ; ]Vo lower life that earth's embrace ]Vlay breed with him, can fright my faith* 97 IN MeMORIHM 6ternal process moving on, from state to state the spirit walhs ; Hnd these are but the shattered stalks, Or ruined chrysalis of one* JNTor blame X Death, because he bare Che use of virtue out of earth : X know transplanted human worth Cdill bloom to profit, otherwhere. for this alone on Death X wreak Che wrath that garners in my heart ; Re put our lives so far apart ^e cannot hear each other speak. LXXXIII Dip down upon the northern shore, O sweet new-year delaying long ; Chou doest expectant nature wrong ; Delaying long, delay no more* 98 Dip down upon the northern shore, O eweet new-year delaying long Chou doest expectant nature wrong; Delaying long, delay no more (Hhat stays thee from the clouded noons, Chy sweetness from its proper place? Can tt^ublc lix>e with Hpril days. Or sadness in the summer moons? "x / CClhat stays thee from the clouded noons, Chy sweetness from its proper place ? Can trouble live with Hpril days, Or sadness in the summer moons ? Bring orchis, bring the foxglove spire, Che little speedweirs darling blue, Deep tulips dashed with fiery dew, Laburnums, dropping-wells of fire* O thou, new-year, delaying long, Delayest the sorrow in my blood, Chat longs to burst a frozen bud Hnd flood a fresher throat with song* LXXXIT CClhen X contemplate all alone Che life that had been thine below, Hnd fix my thoughts on all the glow Co which thy crescent would have grown ; 99 I see thee sitting crown'd with good, H central warmth diffusing bliss In glance and smile, and clasp and kiss. On all the branches of thy blood ; Zhy blood, my friend, and partly mine; for now the day was drawing on, CClhen thou should^st link thy life with one Of mint own house, and boys of thine Rad babbled * Uncle* on my knee; But that remorseless iron hour JMade cypress of her orange flower, Despair of hope, and earth of thee* X seem to meet their least desire, Co clap their cheeks, to call them mine; X see their unborn faces shine Beside the never-lighted fire* lOO IN MejMORIHM I see myself an honoured guests Cby partner in the flowery walk Of letters, genial table-talk, Or deep dispute, and graceful jest; CClbile now tby prosperous labour fills Cbe lips of men witb bonest praise, Hnd sun by sun tbe bappy days Descend below tbe golden bills Qlitb promise of a morn as fair ; Hnd all tbe train of bounteous bours Conduct by patbs of growing powers, Co reverence and tbe silver bair ; Cill slowly worn ber eartbly robe, Rer lavisb mission ricbly wrougbt. Leaving great legacies of tbougbt, Cby spirit sbould fail from off tbe globe ; lOS IN MeMORIHM Cdhat time mine own might also flee, Hs linh'd with thine in love and fate, Hnd, hovVing o'er the dolorous strait Co the other shore, involved in thee. Hrrive at last the blessed goal, Hnd Re that died in Roly Land ^Xlould reach us out the shining hand, Hnd take us as a single souU ^hat reed was that on which X leant? Hh, backward fancy, wherefore wake Che old bitterness again, and break Che low beginnings of content* LXXXT Chis truth came borne with bier and pall, I felt it, when I sorrowed most, Xis better to have loved and lost, Chan never to have loved at all— 102 IN MeMORIHM O true in word, and tried in deed. Demanding, so to bring relief, Co this which is our common grief, aihat kind of life is that I lead; Hnd whether trust in things above Be dimmed of sorrow, or sustained ; Hnd whether love for him have drained )VIy capabilities of love ; Your words have virtue such as draws H faithful answer from the breast, Chro* light reproaches, half exprest Hnd loyal unto kindly laws. ]VIy blood an even tenor kept, Cill on mine ear this message falls, Chat in Tienna^s fatal walls 103 Cbc great Intelligences fair Cbat range above our mortal state, In circle round tbe blessed gate. Received and gave bim welcome tbere; Hnd led bim tbro* tbe blissful climes, Hnd sbow'd bim in tbe fountain f resb Hll knowledge tbat tbe sons of f lesb Sball gatber in tbe cycled times* But I remained, wbose bopes were dim, Clbose life, wbose tbougbts were little wortb, Co wander on a darkened eartb, Cdbere all tbings round me breatbed of bim. O f riendsbip, equal-poised control, O beart, witb kindliest motion warm, O sacred essence, otber form, O solemn gbost, O crowned soul I 104 IN MeMORIHM Yet none could better know than Xt Row much of act at human hands Che sense of human will demands By which we dare to live or die. dhatever way my days declinet X felt and feel, tho^ left alone, Ris being working in mine own, Che footsteps of his life in mine ; H life that all the )VIuses decked ^ith gifts of grace, that might express HU-comprehensive tenderness, HU-subtilising intellect : Hnd so my passion hath not swerved Co works of weakness, but I find Hn image comforting the mind, Hnd in my grief a strength reserved. 105 IN MeMORIHM Likewise the imaginative woe, Chat loved to handle spiritual strife, Diffused the shock thro' all my life, But in the present broke the blow* ]My pulses therefore beat again fbr other friends that once I met ; ]Vor can it suit me to forget Che mighty hopes that make us men* I woo your love : I count it crime Co mourn for any overmuch ; I, the divided half of such H friendship as had mastered Cime; ^hich masters Cime indeed, and is eternal, separate from fears : Che all-assuming months and years Can take no part away from this : 106 IN MeMORIHM But Sumtncr on the steaming f loods, Hnd Spring that swells the narrow brooks Hnd Hutumnt with a noise of rooks, Chat gather in the waning woods, Hnd every pulse of wind and wave Recalls, in change of light or gloom, f/ly old affection of the tomb, Hnd my prime passion in the grave: ffly old affection of the tomb, H part of stillness, yearns to speak; *Hrise, and get thee forth and seek H friendship for the years to come. 'I watch thee from the quiet shore; Chy spirit up to mine can reach; But in dear words of human speech Cde two communicate no more/ 107 Hnd I, 'Can clouds of nature stain Che starry clearness of the free ? Row is it? Canst thou feel for me Some painless s>mipathy with pain ? * Hnd lightly does the whisper fall ; **Cis hard for thee to fathom this ; I triumph in conclusive bliss, Hnd that serene result of all/ 80 hold I commerce with the dead ; Or so methinks the dead would say; Or so shall grief with symbols play Hnd pining life be fancy-fed* ]Vow looking to some settled end. Chat these things pass, and X shall prove H meeting somewhere, love with love, X crave your pardon, O my friend; 108 IN MeiMORIHM If not 90 f resht with love as true^ I, clasping brother-bands^ aver X could nott if I would, transfer Che whole X felt for him to >>ou. for which be they that hold apart Che promise of the golden hours ? first love, first friendship, equal powers, Chat marry with the virgin heart* Still mine, that cannot but deplore, Chat beats within a lonely place. Chat yet remembers his embrace. But at his footstep leaps no more, )VIy heart, tho' widow'd, may not rest Quite in the love of what is gone. But seeks to beat in time with one Chat warms another living breast. 109 fzM Bhf take the imperfect gift I bring, Knowing the primrose yet is dear, Cbe primrose of the later year, Hs not unlike to that of Spring* LXXXTI Sweet after showers, ambrosial air. Chat rollest from the gorgeous gloom Of evening over brake and bloom Hnd meadow, slowly breathing bare Che round of space, and rapt below Chro* all the dewy-tasseird wood, Hnd shadowing down the horned flood In ripples, fan my brows and blow Che fever from my cheek, and sigh Che full new life that feeds thy breath Chroughout my frame, till Doubt and Death, III brethren, let the fancy fly no from belt to belt of crimson seas On leagues of odour streaming far, Co where in yonder orient star H hundred spirits whisper * peace/ LXXXTII I past beside the reverend walls In which of old I wore the gown ; I roved at random thro* the town, Hnd saw the tumult of the halls ; Hnd heard once more in college fanes Che storm their high-built organs make, Hnd thunder-music, rolling, shake Che prophet blazoned on the panes ; Hnd caught once more the distant shout, Che measured pulse of racing oars Hmong the willows ; paced the shores Hnd man>? a bridge, and all about 1 II Che same gray flats again^ and felt Che same, but not the same ; and last Up that long walk of limes I past Co see the rooms in which he dwelt* Hnother name was on the door : X lingered ; all within was noise Of songs, and clapping hands, and boys Chat crashed the glass and beat the floor; Cdhere once we held debate, a band Of youthful friends, on mind and art, Hnd labour, and the changing mart, Hnd all the framework of the land ; ^hen one would aim an arrow fair, But send it slackly from the string ; Hnd one would pierce an outer ring, Hnd one an inner, here and there ; 1 iZ IN MeMORlHM Hnd last the master-bowman, he, Qlould cleave the mark* H willing ear CCle lent him* CKho, but hung to hear Che rapt oration flowing free from point to point, with power and grace Hnd music in the bounds of law, Co those conclusions when we saw Che god within him light his face, Hnd seem to lift the form, and glow In azure orbits heavenly-wise ; Hnd over those ethereal eyes Che bar of JMichael Hngelo* LXXXTIII Cdild bird, whose warble, liquid sweet, Rings 6den thro' the budded quicks, O tell me where the senses mix, O tell me where the passions meet, 113 IN MeMORlHM Whence radiate : fierce extremes employ Xlhy spirits in the darkening leaf, Hnd in the midmost heart of grief Chy passion clasps a secret joy : Hnd I— ]VIy harp would prelude woe— I cannot all command the strings ; Che glory of the sum of things ^ill flash along the chords and go. LXXXIX CClitch-elms that counterchange the floor Of this flat lawn with dusk and bright; Hnd thou, with all thy breadth and height Of foliage, towering sycamore; Row often, hither wandering down, JMy Hrthur found your shadows fair, Hnd shook to all the liberal air Che dust and din and steam of town : 114 T>c brought an eye for all be saw ; Re mixt in all our simple sports ; Cbey pleased bim, f resb from brawling courts Hnd dusty purlieus of tbe law* O joy to bim in tbis retreat^ Xmmantled in ambrosial darh, Co drink tbe cooler air^ and mark Cbe landscape winking tbro* tbe beat : O sound to rout tbe brood of cares^ Cbe sweep of scytbe in morning dew, Cbe gust tbat round tbe garden flew, Hnd tumbled balf tbe mellowing pears ! O bliss, wben all in circle drawn Hbout bim, beart and ear were fed Co bear bim as be lay and read Cbe Cuscan poets on tbe lawn : ^^5 Or in the all-golden afternoon H guest, or happy sister, sung, Or here she brought the harp and flung H ballad to the brightening moon : ]Vor less it pleased in livelier moods, Beyond the bounding hill to stray, Hnd break the livelong summer day CClith banquet in the distant woods; Cdhereat we glanced from theme to theme, Discussed the boohs to love or hate, Or touched the changes of the state. Or threaded some Socratic dream ; But if I praised the busy town, T>c loved to rail against it still, for Aground in yonder social mill de rub each other^s angles down. 116 IN MeMORIHM 'Hud merge' he said ^in form and gloss Che picturesque of man and man/ Cde talked : the stream beneath us ran, Che wine-flask lying couched in moss^ Or coord within the glooming wave; Hnd last, returning from afar, Before the crimson-circled star Rad f airn into her father's grave, Hnd brushing ankle-deep in flowers, de heard behind the woodbine veil Che milk that bubbled in the pail, Hnd buzzings of the honied hours* XC Re tasted love with half his mind, ]Vor ever drank the inviolate spring ^here nighest heaven, who first could fling Chis bitter seed among mankind; 117 Chat could tbe dead, whose dying eyes Cdere closed with wail, resume their life, Chey would but find in child and wife Hn iron welcome when they rise : Xwas well, indeed, when warm with wine, Co pledge them with a hindly tear, Co talk them o'er, to wish them here, Co count their memories half divine; But if they came who past away, Behold their brides in other hands ; Che hard heir strides about their lands, Hnd will not yield them for a day. Yea, tho' their sons were none of these, ]^ot less the yet-loved sire would make Confusion worse than death, and shake Che pillars of domestic peace* 118 MeMORIHM Bh dear, but come tbou back to me : Wbatever cbange tbe years bave wrougbt, I find not yet one lonely tbougbt Cbat cries against my wisb for tbee. XCI ^ben rosy plumelets tuft tbe larcb, Hnd rarely pipes tbe mounted tbrusb; Or underneatb tbe barren busb flits by tbe sea-blue bird of )VIarcb; Come, wear tbe form by wbicb X know Cby spirit In time among tby peers ; Cbe bope of unaccomptisb^d years Be large and lucid round tby brow. CClben summer^s bourly-mellowing cbange jVIay breatbe, witb many roses sweet, Clpon tbe tbousand waves of wbeat, Cbat ripple round tbe lonely grange; 119 Come : not in watches of the night. But where the sunbeam broodeth warm, Come, beauteous in thine after form, Hnd like a finer light in light* XCH If any vision should reveal Chy likeness, X might count it vain Hs but the canker of the brain ; Y^t tho' it spake and made appeal Co chances where our lots were cast Cogether in the days behind, I might but say, I hear a wind Of memory murmuring the past. Yea, tho^ it spake and bared to view H fact within the coming year : Hnd tho^ the months, revolving near, Should prove the phantom warning true, 120 IN MeMORIHM Zhcy might not seem thy prophecies, But spiritual presentiments, Hnd such refraction of events Hs often rises ere they rise* xcm X shall not see thee* Dare X say )Vo spirit ever brake the band Chat stays him from the native land Cdhere first he walked when claspt in clay ? 1^0 visual shade of some one lost. But he, the Spirit himself, may come Adhere all the nerve of sense is numb ; Spirit to Spirit, 6host to Ghost* O, therefore from thy sightless range CClith gods in unconjectured bliss, O, from the distance of the abyss Of tenfold-complicated change. 121 es ma 'yM Dcscendt and touchy and enter ; hear Che wish too strong for words to name ; Chat in this blindness of the frame ]VIy Ghost may feel that thine is nean XCIT Row pure at heart and sound in head, ^ith what divine affections bold Should be the man whose thought would hold Hn hour's communion with the dead* Xn vain shalt thou, or any, call Che spirits from their golden day, Sxcept, like them, thou too canst say ]VIy spirit is at peace with alt Chey haunt the silence of the breast, Imaginations calm and fair, Che memory like a cloudless air, Che conscience as a sea at rest: i22 But when the heart is full of din, Hnd doubt beside the portal waits, Chey can but listen at the gates, Hnd hear the household jar within* By night we lingered on the lawn, for underfoot the herb was dry ; Hnd genial warmth ; and o'er the sky Che silvery haze of summer drawn ; Hnd calm that let the tapers burn Unwavering : not a cricket chirr'd : Che brook alone far-off was heard, Hnd on the board the fluttering urn : Hnd bats went round in fragrant skies, Hnd wheeled or lit the filmy shapes Chat haunt the dusk, with ermine capes Hnd woolly breasts and beaded eyes; iZZ IN MeMORIHM mhiU now we sang old songs that pealed from knoU to knoU, where, couch'd at ease, Che white kine glimmered, and the trees Laid their dark arms about the f ield. But when those others, one by one, dithdrewthemselves from me and night. End in the house light after light ^ent out, and X was all alone. H hunger seized my heart ; I read Of that glad year which once had been. In those f all'n leaves which kept their green, Che noble letters of the dead: Hnd strangely on the silence broke Che silent-speaking words, and strange Cdas love's dumb cry defying change Co test his worth; and strangely spoke iM IN MeMORIHM Che faith, the vigour, bold to dwell On doubts that drive the coward back, Hnd keen thro' wordy snares to track Suggestion to her inmost cell. 80 word by word, and line by line, Che dead man touched me from the past, Hnd all at once it seem'd at last Che living soul was flashed on mine, Hnd mine in this was wound, and whirled Hbout empyreal heights of thought, Hnd came on that which is, and caught Che deep pulsations of the world, TEonian music measuring out Che steps of Cime— the shocks of Chance- Che blows of Death. Ht length my trance Cdas cancelled, stricken thro' with doubt. 1^5 Taguc words I but ah, how hard to frame In matter-moulded forms of speech. Or ev^n for intellect to reach Chro' memory that which I became: Cill now the doubtful dusk revealed Che knolls once more where, couched at ease, Che white kine glimmered, and the trees Laid their dark arms about the field : Hnd sucked from out the distant gloom H breeze began to tremble o^er Che large leaves of the sycamore, Hnd fluctuate all the still perfume. Hnd gathering f reshlier overhead, Rock'd the f ull-f oliaged elms and swung Che heavy-folded rose, and flung Che lilies to and fro and said 1^6 tAtirii a^ [ t&tiii i t4f i r^i'fflMraBfc. ii g i . ' ' ,a 1 know not; one indeed 1 hncw In many a subtle queetion Tcrsed, CCJbo touched a jarring l^pre at first, But ever strode to make it true: perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, ' ij Ht last he beat bis music out. Chcre lives more faith in honest doubt, 6eUcx>c me, than in half the creeds. *Zhc dawn, the dawn/ and died away; Hnd 8a9t and Cdest, without a breath, )VIixt their dim lights, like life and death, Co broaden into boundless day, XCTI You say, but with no touch of scorn, Sweet-hearted, you, whose light-blue eyes Hre tender over drowning flies, You tell me doubt is Devil-born. I know not : one indeed X knew In many a subtle question versed CClho touched a jarring lyre at first, But ever strove to make it true : perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, Ht last he beat his music out. Chere lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds. i27 Re fought bis doubts and gatbcr'd strengtb, Re would not make bis judgment blind. Re faced tbe spectres of tbe mind Hnd laid tbem : tbus be came at lengtb Co find a stronger f aitb bis own ; Hnd power was witb bim in tbe nigbt, Cdbicb makes tbe darkness and tbe ligbt, Hnd dwells not in tbe ligbt alone, But in tbe darkness and tbe cloud, Hs over Sinai^s peaks of old, ^bile Israel made tbeir gods of gold, Hltbo' tbe trumpet blew so loud, XCTII JMy love bas talked witb rocks and trees ; Re finds on misty mountain-ground Ris own vast sbadow glory-crown'd ; Re sees bimself in all be sees. 128 IN MeiMORIHM Cwo partners of a married life — I look'd on these and thought of thee In vastness and in mystery, Hnd of my spirit as of a wif e^ Chese two— they dwelt with eye on eye, Cheir hearts of old ha\)e beat in tune, Cheir meetings made December Juw, Cheir every parting was to die* Cheir love has never passed away ; Che days she never can forget Hre earnest that he loves her yet, Cdhate'er the faithless people say. Rer life is lone, he sits apart, Re loves her yet, she will not weep, Cho' rapt in matters darh and deep Re seems to slight her simple heart. i29 5#k= i p Re thrids the labyrinth of the mind, De reads the secret of the star, F>e seems so near and yet so far, Re looks so cold : she thinks him kind. She keeps the gift of years before, H withered violet is her bliss : She knows not what his greatness is, for that, for all, she loves him more* for him she plays, to him she sings Of early faith and plighted vows ; She knows but matters of the house, Hnd he, he knows a thousand things* Rer faith is f ixt and cannot move, She darkly feels him great and wise, She dwells on him with faithful eyes, *X cannot understand : X love/ ISO XCTIH You leave us : you will see the Rhinet Hnd those fair hills I sailed below, Cdhen I was there with him ; and go By summer belts of wheat and vine Co where he breathed his latest breath, Chat City* Hll her splendour seems ]Vo livelier than the wisp that gleams On Lethe in the eyes of Death* Let her great Danube rolling fair Unwind her isles, unmarked of me: I have not seen^ X will not see Vienna ; rather dream that there, m. H treble darkness, €vil haunts Che birth, the bridal ; friend from friend Is of tener parted, fathers bend Hbove more graves, a thousand wants 131 6iiarr at the heels of men, and prey By each cold hearth, and sadness flings Rer shadow on the blaze of kings : Hnd yet myself have heard him say, Chat not in any mother town Cdith statelier progress to and fro Che double tides of chariots flow By park and suburb under brown Of lustier leaves ; nor more content, Re told me, lives in any crowd, CClhen all is gay with lamps, and loud Cdith sport and song, in booth and tent. Imperial halls, or open plain ; Hnd wheels the circled dance, and breaks Che rocket molten into flakes Of crimson or in emerald rain. isz IN MeiMORIHM XCIX Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, 80 loud with voices of the birds, 80 thick with lowings of the herds. Day, when I lost the flower of men ; Cdho tremblest thro* thy darkling red On yon swoU'n brook that bubbles fast By meadows breathing of the past, Hnd woodlands holy to the dead;