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IF PS Kntw.1 iMXOidiiiK to tlu- Act ot til.- I'm- llahwiit ..f Cauu.la, \u tlu; y^ar .m.' tl';; Anvil Echoes . 42 Bereft 43 Dead Hands 44 Matter for May Morning 47 A Bohemian 49 Loss 51 Flower Language 52 A Legend of St. Andrew's Day 53 Lord Clyde .. . 55 Cr^ve-canir 57 An Epitaph.. 58 Sonnets 59 Remembrance 62 I' the Gloaming 63 Nihilominus 64 A Midsummer Rhyme 65 Kismet . .. 66 Winterly Weather 67 St, Martin's Summer 68 On Deck 69 Regret . . 70 Despair 70 My Mind to me a Kingdom is. 1 Mil Contents. rAGE Tender ami True 72 ller.Ioy T'^ Sorniw 74 Ilirllono . 74 C'lmngoA 75 Contrition 76 The Owl 77 SongH from Heine 78 KxjMictation 79 01(1 Kn>,'livnd 80 Waiting,' 82 New Definitions of Legal Terms 84 Reverie 85 Marine Views 86 A Sea Tone 87 From Horace, Epotle II 88 From Horaee 90 A Spring Song from Horaee 92 Ulysses in Itliaca ... 94 Aslauga's Knight 96 A Storm Piece 97 Chri.sl'H Child 99 Knocking 101 Found 102 A Kal)l»inical Legend 103 By Our Child's Crave 105 Heartlieata 107 Ecce Homo 108 After Culloden HO ESSAYS. The Wandering Jew Ill Pathos 143 The Koniance of the Rhine 169 .^Esthetics 195 About Plagiarism 229 A Reverie 241 Skating 248 About Titles 256 About Affectation 263 Autumnal Tints 269 I'AGK 72 7;{ 74 74 7r) . 7«i . 77 . 78 79 80 8-i ,. 84 85 . 86 .. 87 .. 88 .. 90 . 92 .. 94 .. 96 .. 97 99 .. 101 .. 102 .. 103 .. 105 .. 107 ... 108 .. 110 111 143 169 195 229 241 248 256 263 269 POEMS. ALLAN GRAY. Tirs is the sea-scape which I spoke about So often. Answer, did I over-rate The beauty of the scenes we now behold 1 Yon is the shore of France; that dusky speck, Like a low cloud by distance made a blot, Is the high turret of a Norman church. The castle on our right has yet a scowl Upon its old, worn haggard face, as if A warrior lay there on the cliffs and watched The alien coast with steadfast, cruel eyes. And, lo ! the chapel, girt by lissome elms, Seems now, while music of its soft-toned bells Chimes with the beating of two joyful hearts Just wedded, some pale saint that praises God For peace and all the blessings of His love. And yet a sorely troubled soul I have Amid this fairness, Friend. The utter woe 10 Thistledow7i. Of ocean writhing round this smiling Isle With my mood sympathizes well to-day. He surely yearned for fabled Lethe's flow — Remembering past pain among rose-blooms, And near the drowsy noise of bubbling streams — "Who sang what I but feebly paraphrase : '* Ah ! ever from the fountain of delights Some bitterness wells up, and there is that Which surely frets us in the flowers themselves." A dear companion partly painted this When he and I spent sweet vacation here. Now, his last picture, crude and incomplete, Hangs on my study wall, and oft o'night, When in a reminiscent mood, I look With far more love and reverence on it Than on its neighbour, a great artist's work. A fitting emblem of his life it is ; Foreground revealed in part by fine detail, Wavering outlines indistinctly drawn, Contour of foliage breaking distance grey. The sun's wh'tie disc above a smooth seaplane Nigh comprehended by a haze-hung coast, Whose brown monotony is half relieved By huddled rocks and ghastly drifts of foam. His finished pi'^tures were too few. Oh ! Death, Thy cold hand chilled his hand before The grand designs he hopefully had sketched, Upon futurity were realized. A //an Gray. 11 Yes, Frank, this morning let me speak awhile About a dire event linked to this place With chain of iron which Death forged. I gaze Through thirteen years, some of them bright, some dark. Some barren of fair things, as desert's scope Is void of grateful woods and meadows moist; And can discern the features of that time. So one beholds, in retrospective view, The palms near Cairo and the Pyramids, The oily Nile, and, looming up the blank. The Sphinx-profile against a fervid sky Remote and lofty as a vast dream-dome. Hither we came each sunny afternoon. For in the morning we inhaled keen air, And braced our sinews on the inland hills. He sometimes painted, while I idly strolled Upon the sands, or, lying at his feet, Read Keats aloud, the poet who could set Thoughts pearly-pure in golden sentences. And well he loved this rare word-master's verse ; He made me pause oft in ** St. Agnes Eve" To mark a picture in one splendid line. The last hours that we were together here Shine clear as stars between the rifted clouds. Memory keeps them all intact, although They are encircled by grief's wretchedness. As in a fossil's dark heart fern-fronds lie Unchanged in form, so, within woe which is 12 Thistledown. Cold and continuing as stone, remain Those dead yet dear hours. Like to hoarded coin Are they. Oh ! count them miser Memory, Reckon the golden pieces you retain ; Thou hast not many such in coffers hid. For that ill-visaged thief, Forgotfulness, Who seldom robs us of Care's lead, but steals The silver rather and the ringing gold, Has thrust his hand into Joy's treasury. Once full when youth took tribute from all times. We sat then on this knoll, nor li')ok nor brush Engaged us, but our restless eyes enjoyed The far and near delights they traversed o'er. And aye the ocean's undertone we heard Like deep-voiced minstrel chaunting Viking's dirge j While quick, sharp cries of swooping gulls Seemed notes from harp-chords only struck at times. The sunset's radiance burned behind yon firs — That climbing wood's detached extremity — Guarding the Western height, grim sentinels Of weary legions camping far below. Round dark-green boughs. Oh ! what a glory shone, A throbbing glory ! tangled in the trees Were yellow strips of sky, lithe fangs of flame. Suggesting that high Mystery Moses saw, Jehovah's fiery Presence half unveiled. The sun passed from our sight, and fervid sky, Dimmed by the shadow of approaching dusk. IfB^ Allan Gi^ay. 13 Which had already fallen on the waves, Changed to a blood-red tinge, wherein there were Rounded and lustrous cloudlets melting. He, As prone to similes as I, cried out : " Behold the wine ! the ruddy wine behold ! And costly pearls dissolving in it, which The wanton Queen of Egypt drank one night For philtre to incite her tired desire ! " Soon twilight crossed the isle from East to West, Tearing her raiment soft in underwoods. And crept around the coast-curves strewn with rocks. Pursuing light and shunning night's swart face. We challenged one another to construct Analogies concerning eve. He said, " Gloaming is but the ghost of day that haunts Silently, places where it ruled the hours When .splendour palpitated in the skies; A spectre livid-lipped which hath no voice." I called it symbol of our human thought Flying from darkness- awful, ignorance Following truth — the light. nd while we spake, The tide's incoming nearer brought the noise Of ocean, as if in remorseful plaint It sorrowed over every mortal drowned. Then being moved by time and sound and place. He sang a ballad by some rhymer made In old days on the older story sad. Of tender Hero keeping nightly tryst, 14 Thistledown. And bold Lcander stout 'gainst adverse things. In simple yet pathetic words the song Related how the ardent youth each night Swam o'er the Strait to Sestos town in Thrace ; How there he wooed glad Hero till the dawn, Warming his wet cold mouth with fervent kiss, Smoothing her long, soft hair with his damp hand ; How he, all baffled once by baleful wind, Blinded with spray and beaten by the surge, Sank gazing at the glare of Hero's torch, That flared through storm, but could not lure her love From couch of sand beneath the raving waves. Ah ! that quaint ballad full of homely words. Recurring epithets and faulty rhymes. Had sweetness, even as heather rough Is welcome with its blossoms and perfume To wayfarer on lonely Highland hills. And when he ceased, the woful cadence grew Into the moaning of the contrite sea Sorrowing over young Leander drowned. Through dew-wet dusk we watched a ship go past ; The singing of her mariners made rhythm In fine accord with ocean's utterance, For it was strangely desolate and wild. The ship's form in the gloom we lost, the sonj Voiced by one only in that metre strange, Grew thinner, turning to a thread of sound Knotted with intense choric melody, »g> 0>r:. I 3ve Allan Gray. 15 Linking us to the unseen bark, until It broke, being overstrained at lasc. The further shore became a long, black slope. At whose far, narrow limit we beheld The deep reflection of a beacon's light Piercing the water with a fiery sword. Long we sat mute ; the full-orbed moon arose, With the slow motion and appearance pale Which Grecian girls regarded reverently — Deeming her fair divinity forlorn, Because bereft of dead Endymion. Then, as the white light glorified the sea, And caused these boulders grey to shine, as if They were the fragments of a shattered star, He bade me watch late fishers' boats return To coves and sheltered chines along the bay. Their brown and white sails toucht with moonlight, caught His vision, sensible of fine effects In things which are to many commonplace. But I, no artist, said, " How like to moths Which flitter to and fro by night, these boats ! " Then he, " You will detect resemblances Between extremes at last, but come ! comrade. The dew-beads glitter on your hair, and hark ! The shrill-tongued village clock is striking nine. To scold us home from moonshine and romance." And as we went, this rhyme of mine I hummed 16 Tlnstlcdoivn. To a wild air I learned across the seas When playing prodigal as sailor-boy. SONG. I cannot sleep, for Grief, to night, Within ray heart a vigil keeps ; Wedged in a coral coffin white, Round which the twining sea-weed creeps. Despair has painted my Boy drowned, With wet hair hiding sweet blue eyes, And fast-locked hands, in Tropics browned, Entombed there till the dead do rise. Throb, throb sad heart, thy pain is keen, Hope which long cheered thee, now is dumb ; Twice Spring hath gl.n dened Earth with green Since on our land his feet have been, And still my darling does not come. Oh ! sea to me thou art a foe, God help me in bleak, darkened years, Beneath thy waves my Boy lies low, I'll weep till Death shall dry my tears. II. I cannot sleep, for .Joy, to-night, A revel holds within my soul. Where dolour was, is now delight, And love is robed in purple stole. The lips of him whom I thought dead t. kissed, and stroked his yellow hair, Upon my breast he leaned his head. And told me of far countries fair. (41? A Haft Gray. 17 Tlirob, throb glad heart, for pain is past, And all forgotten it shall be ; Nor shall I hear again, aghast. Through long nights drear with rainy blast, The fearful shrieking of the sea. Oh I sea to me a friend thou art, Thy billows bore my dear lad home ; Nor will I now, with aching heart. Beside the foam in sorrow roam. By this the main had ended its complaint, And only faintly sobbed along the coast Where stern cliffs rudely chafed the forward tide. We left the shore and to our inn returned, Thoughtful from soul-communion with the sea, And sympathetic with its tristful mood. As garrulous as the bird upon her sign, Our hostess of the "Magpie" reheai*sed tales Of vessels stranded on the treacherous rocks. And pallid, broken bodies on the beach. Nor did the gossip lack dramatic tact To add unto the horrors she retailed — Wild cries of those who clung to splintered masts. Caught in the barriers of jagged reefs. But we soon tired of such ill chronicles. And of her strident voice, like creaking tone Of wind-swayed spars which hamper wrecking ships ; So, to escape from morbid narratives. The smoky candle-light, the boisterous mirth Of sailors telling freaks in foreign ports. MS" 18 Thistledown. And rustics wrangling hotly over ale, We walked out to the glamour of the moon, Tiie shadows and the murmurs of the night. Arm-linked we sauntered down a sloping lane. Hedged on each side. We often paused at gates To gaze on ranks of wheat-sheaves in the fields. And red-tiled roofs with gables picturesque, Tall, sentry poplars, or Titanic oaks Brooding above their shadows, like grieved men Immersed in contemplation of their care. Ah ! me, what hopeful, cheerful words he spoke, What pleasant expectavions entertained About his artist life in Vome next year. And rich fruition of his long desires. Nor selfishly of his intents he talked, But in bright horoscopes included me, Projecting future dazzling for us both. " We two " he cried, " must reach the heights at last, Shall stand upon enchanted peaks, and see Far, splendid prospect of a Promised Land, And hear the uplifted voice of unbribed Fame, Echoed with acclamation by our peers. Proclaiming triumphs as she crowns our head." So the boy sphered his bubbles thin, and I Gave ear, albeit from experience Merit is rarely sought till accident Discovers gold in dull, grey veins of quartz, Which seam the surface of out-cropping rocks. -JL-.i:A-jjr»*'-i»-.J*-t-- — Allan Gray. 19 So the boy sphered his bubble thin, and I — Though every idle air-globe which he blew Broke in the hand of Reason, and became Mere moisture, such as wets ths palms Of weepers hiding eyes forlorr from light — I listened, witched by his rich Doric voice. And almost fancied that my ears were soothed With deep, long paeans from the lips of Fame. Beyond the limits of the lake we strayed, Followed a path across the heath, then came Unto a lake below yon shaggy ridge, a lake Nigh oval, small, meet mirror for the moon And Pleiads shivering ever at the sight Of their wan semblance in the surface calm ; Hither and thither fluttered bats, whose flight Our eyes could never follow \ by the marge Bulrushes rose erect among the reeds, Making me think of swart "^^yptians Meting out tasks to humble Hebrew slaves ; And at our slow approach a bird, disturbed. Flew from the sedge with drowsy, dismal cry. Beside the lake we stood, and still he cast Hope's aspects far, as ample as the cope Of pulsing stars and planets overhead ; As fair as Tempe in the Golden age ; Fair with the greenery of mead and grove, And shining clusters of the purple grape ; All musical with babble of love-tales, '2{i Thistledoion. Ecstatic mirth of singing Bacchanals, Soft noise of wood-doves, fliitings sweet From strii)ling slieplierds underneath the boughs, Beguiling maidens coy from irksome task. A wind woke from its nest within the copse, And with slow paces passed across the lake ■\^'llich shuddered at the vagrant ruliler's tread ; Then dreamful lilies quivered in response, And all the reeds waxed querulous, as if These serfs beside the languid lapse of Nile, Sighed when the free breeze burdened with perfume From their forefather's chosen land, flew by And left them still in misery and bonds. In silence o'er the bushy heath we walked. Till sheep-paths, stiles and by-ways brought us home. The "Magpie" now was quiet, and we found The old dame nodding to the clock's short tick Which seemed to chide us for night- wandering. That night we turned to sleep, with souls brimful Of quiet thoughts and pleasing phantasies. Next morning letters reached us, one recalled Myself to London for a little while And Allan's laughter, as I left the pier (Some comic incident provoked his mirth). After a brief sojourn, yet long to me In stifling, dusty streets, I hastened back To join dear Allan, but I found him not Within the house, designing charming scenes Allan Gray. 21 To illustrate my verse, as he was wont When rain relentlessly kept us in-doors. Whither he went the hostess could not tell, He left before she was awake that morn. " Perhaps he sailed with skii)per Will, they planned Last night to go across the bay sometime, Where are the ruins of an ancient keep. And Will has sailed that way to-day I see. For yonder is the ' Kelpie ' coming back ; I know the brown sails of his boat full well." Then wishing to surprise him, off I ran Through drizzle, bitter eastern gusts, and came To yon bold cape that furtherest wades out Defying wind or wave i stir his strength, And watched the swiftly-bounding boat return. But when it neared the land, fearful I saw Old Will alone, who hailed me as he passed The point, with hoarse halloo, and waving hand. Straightway my anxious eyes turned from the sea Fast growing churlish, for increasing blasts Troubled its face, making it harsh and dark ; And I perceived with dread that from the brink, A rock on which we often sat was gone ! So, tortured with forebodings vague, I crept Most cautiously unto the crumbling edge, While dread presentiment depressed my soul With evil utterance about my Friend. Peering down I discerned what seemed a heap 22 Thistledown. Of hudaled sea-weed nigh the chflTs sheer base. But evening shadows foiled my eager glance ; " Only the crag which sapping rains detached, Begirt by tangle-coils," I said aloud, To still the clamant thought that shrieked " He sat Upon the rock to day to watch for you, And fell with it ; Behold ! a hand did clutch The furze whose top is wrenched away, whose roots Like nerves laid bare are loosened by the strain." Upstarting, though I nearly swooned, I strode Over rough places hastily, and reached The beach by winding, rocky way, and drew Towards the fallen mass with .panting heart, And reeled in horror at the awful sight. Ay ! it was there, his broken, hideous corpse ! The comely face was bloody, blanched and stark, The unclosed eyes once earnest, keenly-blue, Were fixed and filmed like sword-blade dimmed by breath, And oh ! the mouth, how woful was the mouth ! Worthy the kisses of a Queen — now was Stifiened in agony of sudden death, And flecked with streaks of shuddering froth That felt the fierce burst of the rising wind And mocked me, for it looked as xihh breath Strove hard to spurn the froth from leaden lips. Thus in the rain and gloom I found the youth I loved as David loved his Jonathan. Allan Gray. 23 What darkness crushed me all that wild, wet night ! They found me sitting by his side at dawn, And all the shoreward billows roaring up The shore's incline to fold him in their foam And bear him to the ocean's vaults profound. Ah ! he was gentle who had this ungentle end. Enamoured of his art, well-skilled was ho To capture subtle beauty half-concealed. Coy fairness in the buds and bio The moon peered through a rent in sullen clouds, Like to a nun's pale face at convent grate ; To smooth shore-curves, long a\ ives brought in their freight — Light surf which Fancy weaveth into shrouds For sailors drowned in furrows of the sea. A beacon by the limit of the land, ^f I I i' » 60 Thistledozvn. Flung far its warning light, and near the sand A wreck's ribs cowered like men in agony. Oh ! solemn night, when in the sense's scope, All sounds and scenes my reverence inspired. It is not well by night with doubt to grope, Blind to the stars which David's eyes admired ; Deaf also to the everlasting praise That towering surges to their Maker raise. I \ ■■ (? The comprehension of a sin I nursed so long, Like torrent lately on me, conscious, rushed, And fearless conscience showed me all my wrong, One dawn before the orient skies were flushed. " Oh ! querulous soul," it said, " be humbled, hushed, Grief hath been wholly hallowed — Jesus wept — Moan not, since for thy welfare hopes were crushed ; Think of the vigil which the lone Christ kept Within Gethsemane — while others slept, The man of sorrows in keen anguish was." Lord pardon me, who often heedless crept Into woe's gloom without suffi".ient cause. And wailing, at God's providence repined — Forgive, Thou sorrow-bearer for mankind ! 'Tis ten years' since ! the trees no taller seem ; Their noonday, dreamy whispers are the same As in those summers past, and lo ! a gleam } I: Sojinets. (Jl Of sunshine yonder smites each brother's name, Deep-graved with crude boy-skill on that beech bole Whose wounds have all been healed, yet show the scars. Muse in this cloister-grove. Such hours, soul ! Matched with work's thoughts, are plamsts unto stars ! Think over days when all the tense, toned chords Of household harp to voice were resonant. Alas ! a silver string is snapt. What words Save Christ's can comfort ? What deed daunt Death but His dying 1 Though mute hero His lips, My Father sings with saints in John's Apocalypse. 'V Best of all trees I love the stately sombre pines. For in their solemn fugue tremendous truths I hear ! A creeping wind but toys with trembling ferns and vines ; The wide storms spurning Earth sweep through the ether clear, And to the ancient pines while passing by, they cry — Utter our message unto man ! though he may rear Brave towers, yet as old Babel they will ruined lie. But our Creator's steadfast city is on high, Where such as overcome on earth accept their crowns ! Thus doth my soul receive wind's words whenever I Like reed bow down, with cadence deep, faint doubt it drowns. And in the tossing wood the prophet pines proclaim The dreadful nature of His Hebrew name. 62 Thistledown. \ Dry petals next Keats' rarest sonnet lying, Thick moss within the granite's crevice-clasp, In pause of Triumph's cheers a mourner's crying And dew-moist daisies in a coffined baby's grasp. Ay ! death in life, the twilight breeze is sighing While darkness settles on the sodden flats ; Short, dismal notes the herons utter, flying. And sudden circles make the elfish bats. Oh ! soul of mine, thy past in sooth is black — Night-time and thought and place combine To lead thee by forlorn and gloomy pathways back Unto the land and loved ones of Lang syne : Distance from it, or death from them divides. Yet, soul ! Love's country is where Christ abides. REMEMBRANCE. His breath oft filled this flute at night. While I gave voice to some old song, Concerning love's brief-lived delight, Or broken heart's incessant wrong. The wild, sweet music that he made With sad words well would sympathize He felt their pathos as he played, And uttered sobbing notes in sighs. ■^ /* tJie Gloamm)^. 63 I' THE GLOAMING. The West by sunset glorified, And Eastward dusk becoming dense, Reflected in the rippled tide Fair Aphrodite's light intense. And far the moon wan radiance flung. Till it was lost where grim pines grow ; Above our boat a glamour hung, And Fancy swam before our prow. The crimson slowly changed to grey. The air seemed vibrant beating time To wavelet's chime and dying d. ^ , While sapphire stars gemmed heaven sublime. Veiled like an Odalisque, came night, And kissed our brows with lips dew-cold. Then passed the sea-scape from our sight. And round us folds of gloom were rolled. II 64 Thistledown. I : • il NIHILOMINUS. Ai)MiKiN(J my liouso, T heard you say : ** He walks through life in a pleasant way." Your eyes were soothed by lawn and trees ; The kine in clover and hum of bees Made you think of the Eastern fare, And orchard blooms perfumed the air. Within you found my book-shelves filled — Statues and pictures by artists skilled — Service and substance — all things good Which one may covet in selfish mood. Then to the owner of all you said — " Yes, soft is the road of life to your tread." But ah ! my friend, God knows the truth, I am care-worn in the days of my youth ; For loss is a haunting evil thing — I miss the dead whose graves each spring Clothes with grass and shades with leaves. Hence my heart in this plenty grieves. A Midsuniuicr Rhyme. 66 A MIDSUMMER RHYME. The mower sang gaily while whetting his blade (Over red clover the honey bees hover), Some ditty a dolorous lover had made, Concerning hearts hurt beyond healing »S- I, hid in the hedge, heard the clang of the scythe (Over lush clover the humming bees hover), And the rustic beheld — a tall fellow and lithe, Whose heart surely needed no healing. And smiling I mused on the singer's glad mood (Over thick clover the busy bees hover), On the song-maker's sorrow whose rhyming, though rude, Showed his heart was indeed beyond healing. He ceased ! I arose and strolled on to the tree (Over white clover what sweet odours hover), Awaiting the tryst which she promised to me, For my heart, arrow-hurt, craved its healing. I' I; Ml ! 11 ij ' f1 66 Thistledown. Long under the thick-leaved, broad branches I read (Over white clover her name seemed to hover) The thoughts which a poet had bartered for bread, While the hurt of his heart needed healing. I passed the mown field in the tranquil moonlight (Over cut clover no late bee did hover), And I knew in the dream of a midsummer night, That my heart was deep-hurt beyond healing. 1 KISMET. So the third act of Destiny's played, and two more, With their possible shadowed by that which is done, Loom loftily dark : well, a man at two score Has very few ends that he wishes were won. When the crust is quite sure, and pure water so cheap, Why should aspiration fly far from to-day ? When true love is buried so deep, heart, so deep, Why beat to old hopes under budding of May ? ^mmm Winterly Weal her. •"7 07 WINTERLY WEATHER. A wilderness" indeed with snow instead of sand, The firs crouched, growing curved to bear the blast That liurtles always on them in the winter, stand Like sentries waiting till the bitter night is past. The crescent moon seems in yon racing clouds Like reason in the rush of night-mare dreams ; These hollows choked with drift, lie stiff as shrouds Whose sharp-peaked folds beam under candle-gleams. A night to bring one's memories out, And count the still fact? of eventful life. While drifts arise at East wind's sudden shout, And flee like ghosts from unavailing strife. I draw the curtain, thinking that the night Repeats in nature's symbols mine own case. Death, storm and snow in its white whirling flight- Skies lacking mildness of God's gracious face ! 68 T/iisticdow7i. I i 1 1 t I \ ' i s. 1 ! i I i ST. MARTIN'S SUMMER. In summer Jays the light winds love to li .ger in the forest, Kissing softly-tinted petals, thrilling through the fol- iage green. Greatly swaying feather ferns,making music all melodious. Would you try from summer winds and woods the Poet's soul to wean 1 Spring was born amidst pale petals and she died among the roses ; Half her life was full of weeping, like a sad forsaken maid. And the earth forgot her sorrow when the fair, flushed face of Summer Glowed on meadow and on mountain — peered from every grove and glade. But the golden glorious Summer, ah the joyaunt, flowery Summer ! Glad she came with fragrant garlands, tearful went with withered leaves ; And the many tongues of Nature make a moaning lamen- tation, And the Earth in silent sorrow for her well-beloved grieves. On Deck. 69 1 1 Languid water-lilies quiver in the lake's extended ripples, Purple clouds, like drifting islands, bar the blueness of the sky ; All the undulating ocean chaunts a slow, sonorous chorus : Like to mortals, like to mortals, doth the summer radi- ance die ! Ay ! when wet winds wrestle sorely with the woodland in October, All Earth's blossoms fair shall perish, and her bosom be their bier ; Chilly rains will patter o'er them,'leaf-stript willows shriek their Requiem, For the beauty of the Beautiful fades with the waning year. ON DECK. Over-mast the Southern Cross, Under keel the Tropic sea ! Ah ! to-night r sense of Loss — Head-stones green with rain-nurst moss. And a sombre, low yew-tree : Such suggestions of Remembrance Bring the far Home-Land to me ! Oh ! my love, my heart is heavy ^'^ith the thoughts of Death and Thee. :r-|| r ^ 70 Thistledown. REGRET. il It I I Alas ! for the rose-crowned Fancies, For the bright-eyed Hope, ah me ! Lo ! over the long moor dances — White on the marshes, wan on the lea- Will-o-wisp in the murky night Mocking my soul with its elfish flight. 1 would it were faintly beating — Beating to death, my heart ! For after Death must be meeting — We shall then be near not apart. Will-o-wisp in the murky night Guide me to him with your fitful light ! DESPAIR. The flapping of its wounded wing Doth sorely pain the dove in flying ; The beating of my broken heart Makes living very like to dying. The days must come, the days will pass, Some bleak as frowns, some bland as smiles ; Like stones they'll stand in snow or grass, To mete for weary me Life's miles. ^«( My Mind to me a Kingdom is. 71 i\ fl CHANGED. They walked beneath the babbling leaves, When Spring's fine music filled the air — He said : " Ere reapers bind the sheaves We'll wear the mantle Love now weaves, For we shall be a wedded pair." md phis dth Then " yes," she answered with her ejes, But sadly bade him mark the South, Where rain-clouds blurred the clear-blue skies ; " Ah sweet," he said, " let us now prize The sunlight," and he kissed her mouth He told her love was love alway \ That he had read in ancient song, How Hero's lover cleft his way Through waves tumultuous veiled in spray, And wcoed her, willing, all night long. They walked above the fallen leaves — The chill wind blew through rustling reeds \ She said, " Farewell," Love's hope believes, But lo ! Love often sits and grieves By Truth's tomb overgrown with weeds. ifl'^ it r fi IM i| I 4 I( 76 Thistledoivn. CONTRITION. Over a parapet of great sullen clouds The worn, haggard moon gazed Like a face forlorn and weary of siege, And under the eyes of this wan, wasted Spectator, This most sternly regarding moon, I heart desolate wept. Oh ! Christ, fair, sweet, pitying Lord, Thou alone canst number my tears, For once Peter, ere the echo of cock-crow Ceased in the court of the High Priest's house. Stood in the sight of a quiet dawn And wept bitterly, bitterly, Remembering the wrong he had done Thee And troubled sore by the tender reproach of Thine eyes. Then slowly grief grew cold and still. Till each tear-drop more tardily falling, And less large than its forerunners, Ended at last an icicle of Sorrow, And I knew now the keener agony Of a soul mourning in the chill of doubt ; The night, the silence, the rampart of clouds And that pallid, evil moon. W"