::Z'.^::.n\.t: THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES S?e Za^2 of ^Je ^catkt ^^o^e LONDON: ELKIN MATHEWS, VIGO STREET, W. The Vigo Cabinet Series An Occasional Miscellany of Prose and Verse One Shilling, net, each Part No. I. THE QUEEN'S HIGHWAY AND OTHER LYRICS OF THE WAR, 1899-1900. By the Rev. Canon Skrine, late Warden of Trinity College, Glenalmond, Perth. "Canon Skrine writes admirably. His lyrics have strength and tenderness. They should find a wide public" — OtUlook. No, 2. HOME IN WAR TIME. Poems by Sydney Dobell. Selected and Edited by William G. Hutchison. No. 3. SILENCE, ABSOLUTE AND OTHER POEMS. By F. Ernley Walrond. No. 4. SEA VERSE. By GUY J. BRIDGES. No. 5. HAROLD THE SAXON, AND OTHER VERSES. By TiNSLEY Pratt. Author of "Persephone in Hades," &c. No. 6. THE CYNIC'S BREVIARY. Maxims and Anecdotes from Nicolas de Chamfort. Selected and Trans- lated by William G. Hutchison. "The translator of this invaluable little book does not, in recom- mending his work, claim for it the merit of * supplying a long-felt want ' ; yet this, it must be allowed, is the least praise that could be bestowed on it. Rarely indeed does one come across a book so deserving of this com- mendation ; rarely that the want, so glaringly apparent, is so completely satisfied." — Sunday Special. THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES AND OTHER VERSES BY ALIX EGERTON LONDON ELKIN MATHEWS, VIGO STREET 1903 £3/ i HEART'S DEAREST To You, Who have come back to me out of the Golden Age^ Who first taught me to believe in happiness^ Who first led 7ne into the Enchanted Land. 858114 Of these. " The Beacon" has already appeared in The Pilot, "The Lady of the Scarlet Shoes" in A Broad Sheet, "A Love Song of the Pyrenees" and "The Lament of the Dead Knight " in The Green Sheaf. Contents PAGE The Lady of the Scarlet Shoes .... 9 Paolo and Francesca 13 R. de U. . . . 14 In the Silence. 15 The Beacon. I. . 17 II. . . . 19 A Supreme Moment 20 Phantoms 21 A Prayer 23 The Inner Chamber 24 A Song to Youth . 25 A Shrine 27 Anniversaries . 29 The Invisible Way. 31 The Legend of Rosial . 33 The Spell 39 The Graveyard on the Hill 42 The Ghost-Child. I. . 44 >> »> II* 47 CONTENTS The Ciy of the Coward . To La Lumiere A Folk-Sol^g .... A Love Song of the Pyrenees A Ballad of Old France. The Lament of the Dead Knight Nuit Blanche .... Monsignore .... A Farewell to Darthool . PAGE 49 51 53 55 56 58 60 62 64 s The Lady of the Scarlet Shoes She wound her hair about her head, Red as the autumn trees ; While her h'ps flamed red, and her long eyes glowed Like amethystine seas ; And she bore herself with the stately grace Of a poplar in the breeze. Over her ashen face she flung The white veil of a bride ; And without a pause, or look, or turn Went pacing by his side. THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES What a king had sold, a king had bought. (So onward flows the tide.) But as they paced along the aisle, The king bent down his head, And he shook like an aspen leaf and turned As pale as do the dead ; Though her dress was white as a bride's should be, Her shoes were poppy-red. " I saw you start at my scarlet shoes, I heard your breath come short ; My heart is his, though my body yours Through the wrong that you have wrought ; I was a chattel to sell," she cried, " And you, the merchant, bought." 10 THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES " You may remember, on Lammas Eve, You found us in the wood, My Love and I, vi^ith our arms entvi^ined. As heart to heart we stood. Your sword was sharp, and his back was turned, My feet were bathed in blood. " Sold by a king and bought by a king, Daughter and bride a slave ; But the Sacrament of Blood that binds 'Twas you alone who gave ; And whether I live as widow or wife. Or sleep in an unknown grave, I shall reign a Queen ; my haughty face No bleeding heart shall tell, But the blood and scorn of two lovers wronged You shall remember well, II THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES For my feet will be shod with scarlet shoes Till we meet ao^ain in hell." In an ancient chapel, far away, Among the sculptured dead, There lies a lady wondrous fair, A crown upon her head, Though her marble form is white as snow, Her shoes are poppy-red. 12 Paolo and Francesca (Love's Hour.) Listen. The mad blood pulsing in my heart Answers the light in thy beloved eyes, Sings wordless hymns of silent ecstasies Where neither past nor future has its part. With thine arms round me and thy lips on mine, What need, my King, for words between us now, Our kisses are as sacred as a vow. We are two creatures touchino- the divine. 'to Two souls, that Fate, for one hour has set free, Two naked souls bathing in Passion's light. What though the day be followed by the night, To-day is my eternity with thee. The future may be Death, but come what may, Dying to-night I shall have lived to-day. 13 R. de M. So unselfconfident, and yet so proud, So much has borne, so much yet to endure ; With every chance he yet remains obscure, Dwelling in solitude among the crowd. He could not face the world, unless disguised, For Fear rides ever constant at his side, None know it, his indomitable pride Upholds the honour he has always prized. With all his wealth of failures, yet, the right To wear his golden spurs he won at length. Through his great love, which is his only strength ; And truly is he called " The Silent Knight." Be this his epitaph when comes the end : " A true Knight always and most loyal Friend." 14 In the Silence You sleep — And I sit in the dark so still, That my thoughts, wandering at their will, Hear echoes of the voice of Israfil. You sleep — While I pluck dream-flowers by the way. Weave them in garlands fair, and lay Them at your head and feet, a Queen's array You sleep — And when you fold your great white wings, In a thin voice my spirit sings Of Love and of unutterable things. 15 IN THE SILENCE You sleep — And so I turn to find my rest, My spirit, with its passion all confest. Becomes a white bird lying on your breast. i6 The Beacon I. " And the keeper of the beacon was a leper." High up within the watch-tower, far from all, His post was set, year in year out the same. Only to keep a little burning flame In the iron cresset on the turret wall. A silent solitude was this his doom, His destiny to view the world from far, A leper, yet to emulate a star, A thread uncoloured in Fate's endless Loom. Alone he watched the signs of all the days; He saw the pageant train of life pass by, 17 B THE BEACON Yet never might he join the hue and cry That follows on the Phantom-Leader's ways ; A strange pathetic form against the skies, He stands and speaks to all the centuries : i8 The Beacon II. " Be brave, be strong, stand to your post and hear The noise of battle flying down the wind, The cries of all the stragglers left behind, But give no house-room in your heart to fear. Stand to your post and watch the vidlors ride, How the sun trembles on the throng below, While they sing songs of triumph as they go, But give no ear to envy at your side. Let others pass you on the road to Fame, And let their benedidlion be your smile. And murmur not, for lo, in no great while The victors and the vanquished are the same ; The noblest work is not more greatly blest Than is the lowest, the reward is rest. 19 B— 2 A Supreme Moment I CROSSED the deserts, scaled the fearful heights, And reached at length the summit's topmost peak. And lo, I stood within the very dome of heaven And heard my heart sing up among the stars ; I saw the world roll on and ceaseless Time Pass by and leave me there untouched, alone. I knew no pain or sorrow, doubt or fear Could change or harm me. All my soul was filled With living, radiating, pulsing joy, A joy that from its own creative power, Came forth in waves and streams of wondrous light, I seemed to be transformed into a star, Swinging for ever in Eternal Space, Chanting for ever the Eternal Song, I knew what it must feel to be a god. 20 Phantoms A HORROR of great darkness hangs round me, The air is thick and black and filled with forms, W hich loom and change and pass and loom again ; Flat, viscous, shapeless faces, white, obscene. With eyes that squint and scowl, and some that gaze Medusa-like, and almost freeze my blood ; With lips betokening every sin in hell. That writhe and leer and mouth some awful word. These forms, I see, have hands, long skinny hands, Some are like claws, crooked and bent with greed, And there are damp thick fleshy hands that ooze, While one or two are dripped and stained with blood. 21 PHANTOMS So, in the fearful silence of the dark, I feel their soundless moving round my bed, I see the hands stretch out to clutch at me, While I lie cowering, voiceless, vision-bound, Knowing if one should touch me I should die. 22 A Prayer Oh, let me hold some corner in your heart, However small but let it be for me, For me alone to fly to in all hours — My heaven, my home, my burial-place, maybe ; Through sundering years and worlds still I would hold That refuge mine, to all eternity. To live within your heart, the lowest place Is all I ask, yet it is much, I know ; But I would lie so still there, and around The love-flowers of my life and thoughts would grow; And that I dare to seek this highest good My only pleading is — I love you so. 23 The Inner Chamber My soul dwells in its inner chamber, and it dreams Of one fair woman and her moonlight eyes, Dreams of the music of her speaking, of her smile, Of all the magic that there hidden lies, Dreams of the dear remembrance of her hands and lips, And with the wonder of it all, it sighs. My soul dwells in its inner chamber, and it leads A double life through all the days and years. By all the Beautiful in life draws near to her And weaves a web of silver with its tears ; Calling her by the name that has been only hers. It wonders in the silence if she hears. 24 A Song to Youth Fly with the wind When the wind is fleet, Drink of the cup While the draught is sweet j Dance in the sun When the world is gay, For every soul has its halcyon day, Though it passes away — away. Stand to the storm Though the storm blows free ; Fight to the death With thine enemy j 25 A SONG TO YOUTH Heed not thy wounds In the bloody fray, For every soul has its stormy day, But it passes away — away. Lay down thy work When the days are done ; Smile a farewell To the setting sun ; Fear not thine Hour Nor the looming Grey, For every soul has to sleep one day, And it passes away — away. 26 A Shrine You who have lived deep hidden in my heart, In its most sacred shrine, its holiest place, Surrounded by a quivering mist of gold, You might see aWays in the shadow space Beyond, a silent figure kneeling there, A worshipper, who gazes on your face. There, where no stranger step can ever come, Alone with you I have knelt there for years. My hands outstretched only to touch your feet ; That I might weary you, my only fears, Or grieve you with my longings, so at times I hide my face lest you should see my tears. 27 A SHRINE I forget all the world, and all its pain, In dreaming contemplation of my shrine ; Sometimes you turn your face so I can see Your eyes speak love in answer back to mine ; I would kneel there for ever just to catch Those fleeting glimpses of your heart divine. 28 Anniversaries Oh, wondrous Days ! How was it, when in all the years before. You passed me, that I never guessed the store Of precious hours you held in trust for me. Nor heard some distant strains of melody, Some prelude of the music yet to be, That you will sing to me for evermore. Oh, wondrous days ! As you went past me then in robes of grey. Now are my eyes dimmed by your bright array ; I see you wrapped in trailing robes of gold, With rainbow crowns, that grow nor faint nor cold, 29 ANNIVERSARIES While Time can never make your faces old Now when you meet me on the year's highway. Oh, golden Days ! Of all your sisters still most dearly dear, I stretch my hands to greet you drawing near; Oh, fold your arms around me. Let me feel The beating of your hearts, and, as I kneel, Bend down to me and let your kisses seal The memory of that dream of yester year. 30 The Invisible Way A long straight road, Thick with the dust of passing to and fro, All through the day, a band of glaring white Lies clear between the lines of hedge and trees. But in the evening shadows, mauve and blue. Fall slanting half across its pallid face, Bathing one's footsteps in a dusky stream, Though the sun, reaching up above the hedge, Still presses warm, sweet kisses on one's cheek. The road is long and straight, its end so vague, It seems that it must lead to some fair place. Some mystic garden hidden among the trees ; 31 THE INVISIBLE WAY There, where the two roads branch to right and left, There must be yet a third, so overgrown, The casual have ever passed it by And never dreamed they were so near to Eden. But every time I wander down the road, My heart beats high with hope, and every time I try to find the entrance there concealed ; I know my Love is waiting there for me ; Sometimes I catch the sunlight on her hair, Sometimes I hear her footfall on the grass, Sometimes I seem to hear her call my name. I know that when I find that Way unseen That she will meet me, and with outstretched hands Will draw me in, and she and I will go Down the long glades together, side by side. 32 The Legend of Rosial There is a legend told of Rosial, Whom men called Witch. They drove her out of doors, And tried to drown her, but she floated free ; They sought to burn her, but the fire was quenched. And so she lived — a hunted, outcast thing — Deep in the Forest, far from haunts of men. One twilight came a Stranger down the road. Past where she sat, crooning a lullaby, He gazed at her, in silence, till she cried. Flinging her white face up to catch the light : 33 c THE LEGEND OF ROSIAL " Who art thou, with those wounded hands and feet, With that worn face ringed by a silvery line ? Why dost thou come to break my solitude ? Here where there ventures neither man nor beast. Dost thou not fear my spells ? I am a witch. Hast thou not heard of all my sorceries ? How I bewitch all folk who cross my path ; How evil follows where my eyes may fall. Yet it was not so always. Years ago I used to dance the summer days away And sing for all the beauty of the world ; I was a child so innocent and glad. Who knew no wrong, but being beautiful, A great man loved me, or he seemed to love, And I — I yielded to his passion's will. 'Twas thus he drove me, guiltless, down to hell ; 34 THE LEGEND OF ROSIAL Through him I suffered countless torturing hours, Hot shame and degradation and despair Like leaden fetters weighing down my heart. He killed my faith, I could not even pray, I feared to sleep, to wake, to live, to die ; I could not rest, but fled a hunted soul Along the days, while ever at my back The Arch-fiend shrieked damnation in my ear : Unclean^ unclean^ unclean. There is no Truthy No Holiness, no Peace, This world is Hell, And I am Lord of all. Then in my agony I cursed the man, And the curse fell in truth on him and his ; His wife died sudden ere three moons a bride. His cattle sickened and his crops were burned, While he was struck by lightning in a storm, Since when, one arm hangs helpless at his side ; 35 c— 2 THE LEGEND OF ROSIAL So was it said this devil's work was mine. They said I killed my little baby too, But that was false j I had no food for her, No fire to warm her (it was winter-time), And One came by in misty robes of grey With folded purple wings and sheathed sword, And stopping, where I sat beneath this tree, He smiled on her, saying, 'T/j better so^ Lo^ I am Deathy and took her from my arms. I laughed for joy to think that she was gone. That they could never drive her from their doors Nor persecute her for her mother's sake. That she was free. So was I also free To die, or live and sin, just as I chose j So have I lived three years in misery. Have suffered cold and want and loneliness. Have seen the birds die, and the leaves and flowers, 36 THE LEGEND OF ROSIAL Yet never has that One come back for me, Though I have watched for him by day and night And thought to see his wings among the trees. And now thou comest, yet thou dost not speak, The cloud-wracks drifting slow across the moon Half hide and half reveal thy grieving eyes. What wilt thou have me do ? " " To follow Me." The words fell on poor Rosial's wondering ears : *' I am an outcast and a witch," she cried, " And dost thou deign to bid me follow thee ? " The Stranger spoke again : " Look, Rosial, give Me thy hand. "I am thy Friend, thy King. Dost thou not know Me ? " Then she, trembling, sank Down on her knees and clasped her hands in awe, 37 THE LEGEND OF ROSIAL So weeping, cried : " Yea, Lord, I know Thee now." The legend runs that she was seen that night To pass along the highway, as if led By someone, for she neither paused nor turned, And one or two said that they saw her Guide. 'Tis true they found her on the morrow-morn Dead, at the Calvary seven leagues away, A fair white lily lying on her breast All freshly plucked. And it was winter time. 38 The Spell " Once in the forgotten days a child lay on the knees of the Grey Woman, and this was the song she sang as she wove the thread, and the End is Now," To want the Eternal Woman Till all the world grows grey, And you feel yourself grow further Far away. To wake each day to want Her, Till you grudge the dawning light, When the hours grow long and longer Till the night. To live alone in Dreamland In a kingdom of your own, 39 mi THE SPELL Where She lives and reims for ever On the throne. While the days slip through your fingers Like to ebon rosary beads, And with litanies are mingled Lovers' Creeds. To long and wait, in silence, Your small treasures to unfold, Yet to hoard them like a miser Hoards his gold. To stand upon the Threshold, Yet to hold your breath with fear Lest the visions fade to cloud-wreaths Seen too near. 40 THE SPELL To have and hold, yet tremble, To dream and love and wait. To falter at the crucial point, This is your Fate. " And thus, and thus shall it be," said the Grey Woman, and the thread snapped. 41 The Graveyard on the Hill I HEAR the dead men talking in their graves, They whisper through the hour before the dawn, And all the while the pattering raindrops fall Upon the grave-stones, eerie and forlorn ; They whisper and they wring my heart with fear. Shall I too whisper when I'm lying here ? I hear a dead man moaning in his grave. Does the wet earth weigh heavy on his head ? And does he seek relief from me, who stand. Helpless, alas, to help the moaning dead ? I lay my hands upon the waving grass. And pray to God his weariness may pass. 4* THE GRAVEYARD ON THE HILL I hear a woman crying in her grave, It is not weariness with her or pain, But all the hunger in her heart that cries. And in the grave we surely cry in vain ; I kiss the sods there where her weeping face Seems to look through the grass a little space. A primrose light steals up along the sky, Fore-runner of the glory yet to be. The sadness of the night is hid away. The dead no longer now can speak to me ; They sleep beneath the yew trees on the hill, The graves are silent and the dead are still. 43 ''•"•^ *-" The Ghost-Child I. The Ghost-child stands in silence by my chair, With twisting fingers, and her dank, dark hair Brushed back in ugly fashion of those days ; She peers at me with shy short-sighted eyes, With dread unspoken question waits replies. Like some dumb animal her looks and ways. " The gulf of years lies wide between us two, Yet you are me, Ghost-child, and I am you, I see the Past, and you the Future see." The pathos of this lonely helpless thing 44 THE GHOST-CHILD Asking the question with its cruel sting : *' What have you done, what will you do for me r "I hungered," murmured she, "when I was you." " Alas, Ghost-child, alas, I hunger too ; You dreamed what could not be, and so have I, The things you dreamed, yet could not under- stand. Are there in sight, but just beyond my hand. Like you I ask, and there is no reply. " Forgive my offerings. Child of Bygone Years, Nothing have I but failures crowned with tears. Nothing of life but one entangled thread ; I know not if I've missed or marred your way, Whether the dusk means night or dawn of day, If I shall lose or win when all is said," 45 THE GHOST-CHILD " What 's done is done, and we must bear the cost Of my mistakes; yet all is not quite lost, Both knowing that one thing is worth the strife, So shall we take our failures in our hand, And passing to that distant Shadow-land, Shall learn to read the Mystery of Life." 46 The Ghost-Child II. The Ghost-child comes again to-night to me, But so transformed, transfigured ; can this be The same who came before so questioningly ? Her eyes, so weary-full of tears that night. Are shining now with the triumphant light Of one who sees the longed-for goal in sight. The drooping mouth, so strangely terror-wise, Is all one radiant smile of ecstasies. Wisdom of Joy, which never, never dies. Drawn to her full height now, she stands so tense, With clasped hands, eager in her childish sense, To make me know her heart's full affluence. 47 THE GHOST-CHILD Her head is raised, as though she faintly hears The 'raptured harmonies of other spheres, While her voice trembles with her happy tears: " We strove together onward, hand in hand, Together reached the dreamed-of Promised Land, The Light Revealed shines round us where we stand. " 'Tis well that we have suffered in the past, That against all the world you held me fast. So have we stood together crowned at last. " Whatever may befall to yours and you. Know that we hold, of all Life's Maze, the clue ; That Faith can prove the old is always new, And Love and Dream are true as Heaven is true.'* 48 The Cry of the Coward Where does my Hour wait ? Is it in the sea ? Will the green waves curl round me icily ? Or shall I meet it on a summer's day, When all seems fair, and Death so far away, Oh, waiting Hour, how will you come to me r Oh, Hour of time and place unguessed, unknown. It may be I shall meet you when alone. That, turning, I shall find you at my side. And you will lead me down the way untried. And I shall go with no prayers but my own. It may be I shall see you far away, Watch you draw nearer to me day by day, 49 D THE CRY OF THE COWARD That I, through pain, shall grow more coward still, And fear and long for you in turns, until The secret of my life I shall betray. Wherever my Hour comes and calls my name, Let me hold high my head for very shame, Give me the strength my secret still to hide ; I have no Courage — let me keep my Pride, Let me die game, dear God, let me die game. 50 To La Lumiere If thou should'st ever think of me, Remember me as one who came, And stood beside thee for a while, Who learned to love thine eyes, thy smile ; Then backward bore a flickering flame Into a world that held not thee If thou should'st ever think of me. If thou thould'st ever think of me, Think of me, as I am, alone, A spirit wandering down the stair- Way of the world, and weeping there The lost heavens that I might have known : SI D— 2 TO LA LUMIERE May in thy heart some pity be, If thou should'st ever think of me. If thou should'st ever think of me, Thy thoughts w^ill reach me w^here I stand. Across the throbbing fields of space I shall look up to see thy face, Lady of Light, and feel thy hand, A blessing in thy memory. If thou should'st ever think of me. 52 A Folk-song You live away among the stars, Like a white moon. Your face looks out on the dark world A still white flower. Your floating hair is amber-gold, Like autumn trees. And I, a slave, beneath your feet, Worship the ground you shine upon. Were I your Love, I would enfold you in A robe of stars. And among all the rose-leaves of the East Your path should lie. 53 A FOLK-SONG Were I a god, I should be jealous of The earth you love, And call you to the distant fields of asphodel. But being nothing, as a slave I kneel, I lay my heart out in the moonlight of your face, And v^^hen your shadow falls across my heart, it bleeds. 54 A Love-Song of the Pyrenees Out of your smile I weave a silver web, And as the day grows down to evensong I fold it round my heart, a glistening veil, And sit and dream there, shrouded in your smile. Out of a word from you I weave a song, And a dim music, that I only hear. Flows through the hours of sunshine and of storm. The music of the stars out of one word. Out of your silences I build my heaven, A strange fair garden, 'neath a slumbering moon j Amid the din and chatter of the world, I dwell there in my Heaven of Silences. 55 A Ballad of Old France I LAID my head on my Lady's knees, {Ohe^ ohe.) As we sat under the orchard trees ; {Ohcy la vie.) I gazed up into my Lady's eyes, A dearer blue than the summer skies. [Ohe^ la vie et F amour.) I watched the sun on her amber hair, (0/;/, ohe.) A captive it lay and slumbered there; [Ohe^ la vie.) While her left hand lay across my breast, The other my dreaming head caressed. [Ohey la vie et P amour.) S6 A BALLAD OF OLD FRANCE She closed my lids with her fingers pale, (OA/, ohe.) The worship within my eyes to veil, [Ohe J la vie.) But I heard the song of her heart divine. As, stooping, she pressed her lips to mine, " The kingdom of Heaven is mine and thine." ( Ohe^ la vie et P amour. ) 57 The Lament of the Dead Knight I HEARD my dear Love Crying in the North, While all the ice-floes lay 'twixt me and her, And frozen by her tears I could not stir, Nor reach my dear Love Crying in the North. I heard my dear Love Crying in the East, Around her lay long leagues of desert-land, And I lay buried underneath the sand, And could not touch her Crying in the East. 58 THE LAMENT OF THE DEAD KNIGHT I heard my dear Love Crying in the South, The flowers grew so thick about her feet, Blinding me with their perfume sickly sweet, I could not find her Crying in the South. I hear my dear Love Crying in the West, Where the green grass is waving over me. But, oh, her dear, dear face I cannot see. Nor kiss my dear Love Crying in the West. 59 Nuit Blanche Last night I knelt beside thee in the dark And heard thee breathing softly in thy sleep, And laid my face in silence 'gainst thy bed. I whispered to thee, how throughout all time. Through all the eternal ages of the past, I had been seeking, ever seeking thee ; Down all the ages I had followed thee Living and dying many a hundred times. Sometimes a flower, a tree, a bird, a child. Sometimes a ray of light, a passing breeze. Existing but to find thee and to die. I told thee how the choice had once been offered, If I would but forget thee for an hour 60 NUIT BLANCHE And seek a lower love which might be mine, I should find peace in the Elysian Fields And rest for ever from this warring world. I told thee how the answer had been given In hearing of the souls of all the dead, That I would rather die a thousand deaths, And suffer hours of torture and despair, Than lose one thought of thee in any age. Than miss one passing of thy shadow's form. Than fail to hear one whisper of thy voice. And as I knelt and told thee all the past. Thou didst not wake, but heard it in thy dreams. And smiled, and sighed, and murmured once my name. 6i M on sign ore He was a Greek, pure Greek, and half divine, One of the gods of old, Strayed from the Age of Gold Down to this Age, through some Italian line. Was he Apollo once, or Jove, or Mars ? Olympian weariness Belied the modern dress. His heritage Parnassus and the stars. What if he only saw his goal afar, Here it is never seen What the result has been, Men greatest by their aspirations are. 62 MONSIGNORE One of his latest fights I watched him fight, Though he was hard beset Wounded to death, but yet He neither flagged nor blenched to human sight. He gave to them, in his last agony, That message, but beside, What were the words he cried In tongue unknown to all the kneelers by. In public mourning I might have no part, But the tears that I wept When Monsignore slept Were true ones for I wept them with my heart. 63 A Farewell to Darthool A SHADOW sits beside my bed in the grey and creeping dawn, A white mist like a veil of tears lies on the sleeping lawn, The birds are chirping as they wakej My soul cries with its cruel ache, For oh, the long and long farewell is coming with the morn. I feel upon my tortured heart a shadowy hand is laid. Which e'en in sleep bodes some distress that may not be delayed, 64 A FAREWELL TO DARTHOOL Fate weaves her web and smiles her smile, And nearer, nearer, all the while. Draws on the long and long farewell that makes my heart afraid. The raindrops now begin to fall by one and two and three. The world is weeping at the thought of all its agony ; My tears are far too deep to flow, My heart is breaking with the woe And pain of all the long farewell between my Dear and me. The rain will cease, the sun will shine, and the vast world new born Will sing, and there will come again the cutting of the corn ; 65 E A FAREWELL TO DARTHOOL But as the seasons come and go My l.eart will know no peace, for oh, The long and long farewell, my Dear, is coming with the morn. Ah ! when thine eyes no more may shed their wondrous light on me. And when thy v^oice no longer may intone Love's Psalmody, When in thine arms, no longer, I May for one moment even lie. There is but outer darkness in my life away from thee. I think thou canst not ever guess the world thou art to me, I sit and worship at thy feet in speechless ecstasy. Thou art so beautiful, it seems 66 A FAREWELL TO DARTIIOOL That I, o'erwrought with ancient dreams, Must surely die with the fierce joy of merely seeing thee. The day has come, the dreaded hour, and with white face and set, I stand and hold thy hands in mine, my eyes with tears are wet, I kiss thy honey-coloured hair, I kiss thy sweet white face so fair. The tender curving of thy lips, I even kiss thy finger tips ; Thus shall I dream I see thee stand And feel the clinging of thy hand. Speak to me. Call me by my name. I go from thee and yet Darthool, Darthool, tho' aeons roll, I never shall forget. 67 PRINTED BY K. FOLKARD AND SON, 22, DEVONSHIRE STREET, QUEEN SQUARE, BLOOMSBURV, LONDON, W.C. No. 7. URLYN THE HARPER, AND OTHER SONG. By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson. {Second Edition. No. 8. IBSEN'S (HENRIK) LYRICAL POEMS. Selected and Translated by R. A. Streatfeild. No. 9. THE QUEEN'S VIGIL AND OTHER SONG. By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson. {Second Edition. No. 10. THE BURDEN OF LOVE. By Elizabeth Gibson. No. II. THE COMPANY OF HEAVEN. By EvELYN MOORE. No. 12. VERSES OCCASIONALLY HUMOROUS. By E, H. Lacon Watson. No. 13. BALLADS. By John Masefield. No. 14. LYRICS AND UNFINISHED ROMANCES. By Alice Edwardes. No. 15. DANTESQUES. A Sonnet Companion to the Inferno. By George A. Greene. Author of " Italian Lyrists of To-day." No. 16. THE LADY OF THE SCARLET SHOES, AND OTHER VERSES. By Alix EgErton. No. 17. THE TABLES OF THE LAW. By W. B. Yeats. {Shortly. No. 18. STANDARDS OF TASTE IN ART. By E. S. P. Haynes, late Scholar of Balliol College, Oxford. {Shortly. *^* Other Volumes in preparation. London: ELKIN MATHEWS, Vigo Street, W. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50m-7,'54(5990)444 UNIVE:. . IIFORNIA LOS ANGELES , ^CSOUTHERN RE&0NAU1BRA AA 000 364 547 PR ii6U9 E31 1 L ';>.^i^