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 " i. MIDSUMMER MEMORY 
 
 BURTON 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 B 3 SMfl 125 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 ~< 
 
 Class 
 
 Presented by a number of those who enjoyed the 
 delightful talks of Dr. Burton in the Sunaner Session 
 of 1910, these books are placed in the University Lib 
 rary for the stimulation of those who were unable to 
 hoar him then, and for the further pleasure of those 
 so privileged. 
 
A MIDSUMMER MEMORY 
 
A Midsummer Memory 
 
 An Elegy on the Death of Arthur Upson 
 
 By 
 Richard Burton 
 
 
 
 
 Minneapolis 
 
 Edmund D. Brooks 
 
 1910 
 
COPYRIGHT 1910 BY 
 RICHARD BURTON 
 
 THE TORCH PRESS 
 CEDAR RAPIDS 
 
 IOWA 
 
This Edition consists of Five Hundred Copies 
 on handmade paper of which this is number 
 
 211014 
 

 NOTE 
 
 Arthur Upson, whom the following poem com 
 memorates, was drowned from his boat in Be- 
 inidji Lake, Minnesota, in the early evening of 
 August 14, 1908, in the thirty-second year of his 
 age. A lyric, just written, found in the empty 
 boat, is the "swan song" referred to in stanza 
 XL VI of the elegy. He had that very day com 
 pleted a poetic drama entitled "Gauvaine of 
 The Betz," dealing with the Pornic legend of 
 Gold Hair; but the manuscript disappeared with 
 him and has never been found. During some ten 
 years of literary activity, he published half a 
 dozen volumes of verse and since his death his 
 collected poems have appeared in two large vol 
 umes. Before his passing, recognition had come 
 to him from distinguished critics and he was 
 known to the few who treasure good poetry; the 
 
publishing of his collected works has already 
 begun to secure the wider hearing his song de 
 serves. 
 
 It was under the branches of an ancient yew 
 tree in the garden of Wadham college, Oxford, 
 that Upson conceived the i i Octaves in an Oxford 
 Garden," one of his best works. The yew was 
 his favorite tree and was used as a design for his 
 note paper. There is an allusion to this in stan 
 zas XXXVII-XXXVIII. The poet s predilic 
 tion for the water, also alluded to in the elegy, 
 was well-known to his intimate friends. 
 
A MIDSUMMER MEMORY 
 I 
 
 Swift April ardours bring the white of May, 
 
 May merges into leafy June, and all 
 Mid splendours of full summer gild the day 
 
 And make the night an odorous festival 
 Twixt star and sod ; and yet, how wan the cheer, 
 I miss thee, Arthur, thou no more art here 
 To taste the beauty, laud the crescent year. 
 
 II 
 
 Strange is thine absence, since no son of man 
 Felt deeplier in his blood the summer lure ; 
 
 Nor sang more sweetly, while the caravan 
 Of months passed stately by, nor was so sure 
 
 To list shy sounds, to smell the hidden flowers 
 
 And rediscover earth s reluctant bowers. 
 
 11 
 
Ill 
 
 Yea, strange and sad. No thrush that flutes alone 
 Amidst the thicket but reminds of thee, 
 
 As, silver sweet and shy, he makes his moan ; 
 No single bloom midst garden pageantry 
 
 But doth declare thee to my musing mind : 
 
 Thy presence gone, thy semblance left behind. 
 
 IV 
 
 In this thou livest and shalt ever live : 
 
 Of all the beauty of the breathing days 
 Thou art inextricably a part, dost give 
 
 An added loveliness, a new amaze ; 
 Mine in the meadows, mine beside the leas, 
 Mine when I meet (since thou art part of these) 
 The splendour of the sunsets and the seas ! 
 
 Were spring and summer half so fair, if first 
 They came into a world that knew them not? 
 Should we receive as now the thrilling burst 
 
 12 
 
Of bud and bird-song, if each vernal spot 
 Had never known the resurrection bliss 1 
 Is not our love of summer made up of this 
 Welcoming the old friend that summer is? 
 
 VI 
 
 And so with thee,- the beauty and the joy 
 Were never half to me so holy-deep 
 
 As since that thou art vanished, comrade, boy, 
 Dear singer, singing yet, although asleep. 
 
 I see all through thine eyes, I feel thee by, 
 
 I know that Memory will not let thee die. 
 
 VII 
 
 Hark! Tis the river-lay beyond the hill. 
 
 How often when we flee the city- spell 
 And gleeful turn to Nature, thence to fill 
 
 Our souls with peace and joyance, and to quell 
 The strife, we recognize old mother earth 
 As calling, calling to us in tender mirth ; 
 How long witholden secrets come to birth! 
 
 13 
 
VIII 
 
 Arthur, thy winsomeness of mood and mien, 
 Now treasured up in hearts that still are strong, 
 
 Must gradually, as fade the leaves, I ween, 
 Pass with those hearts the fleeting years along : 
 
 But thy golden words ! they still shall claim 
 
 Long life and honour and a singing fame ! 
 
 IX 
 
 Thy golden words ! Nay, silver were they too ; 
 
 Betimes, like sounding brass they summoned us ; 
 Again, with dulcet pleading, pierced us through 
 
 Whenso the hour was soft and amorous ; 
 Or yet again, with pomp and purple pride 
 They seemed to open up down vistas wide 
 All ancient glories that have lived and died! 
 
 What pride in chanting hath a forest bird? 
 
 Doth any sunset with most spangled dress 
 Greeting the morn, e er speak a haughty word? 
 
 14 
 
Is not all nature one in humbleness? 
 So wert thou humble, priest of beauty, dead 
 Untimely, leaving us discomforted. 
 
 XI 
 
 There is companionship too close for speech : 
 Wordless communion is the best, meseems ; 
 
 Such is betwixt us, arid our spirits reach 
 To touch arid mingle, waking or in dreams : 
 
 The union deepens, even as skies at eve 
 
 Grow mellow when the garish day- things leave. 
 
 XII 
 
 The green of marshes hath another hue 
 
 From that of inland meadows, and the scent, 
 Salt of the sea and pungent, interblent 
 
 With memories of sails upon the blue, 
 Comes from another world from that of hay 
 After June mowing; more unlike than they 
 Life seems, companion mine, with thee away. 
 
 15 
 
XIII 
 
 I hardly know if sorrow or content 
 
 Have mastery as I brood upon thy loss : 
 Such comforting large thoughts are someway blent 
 
 With haunting pain ; the shadow of a cross 
 Is all uplit with radiance, and a voice 
 Weeping, becomes a voice that doth rejoice, 
 Although it wots not it hath made the choice. 
 
 XIV 
 
 The bronze magnificence of autumn woke 
 In thee an ectasy that rivalled spring ; 
 
 It seemed as if some pent-up rapture broke 
 All bounds, when regal summer, on the wing, 
 
 Paused momently to hover, and became 
 
 A miracle of slumber and of flame. 
 
 XV 
 
 Then wert thou fain to weave on wonder looms 
 Utterance of joy, stretching out eager hands 
 To May and eke October, apple blooms 
 
 16 
 
Fallowing with asters, in such cunning strands 
 Of woven fairness, that two-fold delight 
 Was in the pattern of such colours dight. 
 
 XVI 
 
 There came an eve whose colors like dim strains 
 
 Of old forgotten music, softly stole 
 Into the sundown skies; the subtle stains 
 
 Of grey and pink and russet made a whole 
 Harmonious utterly ; which faded slow 
 Into the mist-and-gold of night, and lo, 
 Even the stars were muffled in their glow ! 
 
 xvn 
 
 Then felt I need of thee to share the sight : 
 It was too delicate to win the praise 
 
 Of many easy-moved to quick delight 
 In obvious skies that follow usual days ; 
 
 But this, so marvellous in mood and tone, 
 
 This afterglow seemed meant for us alone. 
 
 17 
 
XVIII 
 
 Alas, the summer waits thee ! All her shows 
 Heaped up and heavenly proffer thee their boon, 
 
 And yet in vain the great procession goes ; 
 Its chronicler no more beneath the moon, 
 
 Nor when the noon is high, walks as of yore : 
 
 Thy passing hath bereaved both sea and shore. 
 
 The verv sea seems silent evermore ! 
 
 19 
 
II 
 
Of THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 or 
 
 XIX 
 
 The summer means renewal of old loves : 
 Again I meet the friendly wayside things 
 
 So tenderly recalled from other springs, 
 And in the mellow murmuring of ringed doves 
 
 I seem to hear remembered messages ; 
 
 It is another youth with all of these. 
 
 XX 
 
 But how with thee? May we fond mortals take 
 This blithe rejuvenescence for a sign 
 
 That likewise man, death s conqueror, shall break 
 The shackles of long slumber, drain the wine 
 
 Of ruddy life again, resume the dear 
 
 Deep fellowships he knew when he was here? 
 
 21 
 
XXI 
 
 All Nature rises : sap climbs up the bole, 
 
 The flower-hand pricks the soil, the tiny leaf 
 
 Spreads sunward ; shall this struggling wight, the soul, 
 Alone be doomed never to burst its sheaf! 
 
 Gladly to grow, soaring elate to sing, 
 
 Such seems the fate of each created thing. 
 
 XXII 
 
 Two inconceivables : that we can win 
 
 Our way from that dread land where silence reigns, 
 Where all our kind at length are gathered in, 
 
 When blood no more leaps buoyant in our veins; 
 A place where there is neither glee nor grief, 
 That we return from this, surpasses belief. 
 
 XXIII 
 
 But also it is dark to understand 
 
 How my so dominant spirit can be quenched 
 Forever : I am lord of all the land 
 
 Today, tomorrow from dominion wrenched. 
 
 22 
 
How meaningless it looks, the bright, brief glory, 
 Sad with the shortness of all human story, 
 Sweet as the mocking-bird s rich repertory! 
 
 XXIV 
 
 Sometimes I step into the scented night 
 And feel a breathing Presence ; then my fears 
 
 Vanish, and in their stead comes calm delight; 
 The home-call of the earth is in mine ears ; 
 
 The universe throbs love, all life is one, 
 
 Swift through the velvet dark I find the sun. 
 
 XXV 
 
 But the mood passes, and the mystery 
 
 That shuts us in, crushes the mounting soul ; 
 
 Passes the hope as well of me-and-thee ; 
 The fond reunion and the final goal ; 
 
 Arthur, then both life and loving seem 
 
 The obliterated moment of a dream. 
 
 23 
 
XXVI 
 
 Bespite the fear, the gnawing unbelief, 
 Thy presence were no miracle, I know, 
 
 If suddenly I saw thee : then my grief 
 Would he as it had never been, for 
 
 Tis easier far to believe thee close at hand, 
 
 Than banish one so bright to Shadow land. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 Once when the spring brought lilacs to a town 
 
 Loved of us both, we planned how we should wend 
 Together to that place of high renown 
 
 Where sage and dreamer dwelt, and tall trees bend 
 Above their sleep,- a precious spot. We said : 
 " Tomorrow"; and " tomorrow "; spring- tide sped, 
 We never went,- and, Arthur, thou art dead ! 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 The heavens were kindlier in the mythic age : 
 
 The sun, a shining god, gave gifts to men ; 
 The moon, fair women wight, was human then, 
 
 24 
 
And stars were jewels on the poet s page. 
 One who had lost his friend might converse hold, 
 Leaning to listen up those courts of gold. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 But we are wiser now ; the sky recedes 
 
 And all its friendly populace is fled. 
 Time, Space, and Substance mock our deepest needs, 
 
 The heart goes hungry for the old faiths dead ; 
 So must I seek for thee beyond the bars, 
 Higher than suns, behind the outmost stars. 
 
 XXX 
 
 But seek I will ! and faithful in the quest 
 I swear to be so long as life may last. 
 
 Of all chill thoughts, this is the hatefulest : 
 
 That, slow but sure, the friendship-freighted past 
 
 Should fade, and I be satisfied to live 
 
 Unmindful, nor, as once, my homage give. 
 
 25 
 
XXXI 
 
 If there be torture for the dear ones gone, 
 It must be in the thought that they are quite 
 
 Forgotten : not one soul to reckon on, 
 
 Of all who pledged them faith in death s despite. 
 
 Alas, Sad Heart, if thou return to see 
 
 Another in thy place and strange to thee ! 
 
 XXXII 
 
 Hear me, dear Arthur, by whatever shore 
 
 Thou pacest ! As the year brings round the rose, 
 As winter wanes and all the harshness goes 
 
 Out of the ground ; as balmier airs restore 
 
 Midsummer s soft elysian miracle, 
 
 And earth resumes the witch-work of her spell, - 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 I shall renew the sweet old habitudes 
 
 Were ours, forget thee never, cherish fond 
 Each look and tone and word, as one who broods 
 
 26 
 
On something sacred from a land beyond 
 These present troublings ; hear the oath I swear : 
 Where I am thou shalt be, forever there! 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 Summer shall be the bond that binds us twain, 
 Midsummer s purple pleasance be a tryst 
 
 Both of us haste to keep, and find again 
 Solace and comradeship the happiest 
 
 That men ere knew; midsummer s mounting tide 
 
 Of beauty still shall bear us side by side 
 
 XXXV 
 
 Unto the haven where all dreams come true : 
 For in this bounty of the gracious year 
 
 There is no room for grieving, every tear 
 Is dried, and every hurt attended to ; 
 
 Together in the summer, thou and I, 
 
 Surely, such brothership can never die ! 
 
 27 
 
Ill 
 
XXXVI 
 
 Lover of trees wert thou, but loved st the best 
 The ancient yew a-muse in gardens old ; 
 
 Beneath her branches, as the sun rode west, 
 Came many a dream too fair to quite unfold, 
 
 And many a note of sorrow and of glee ; 
 
 Ineffable fondness seemed twixt her and thee. 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 Was it because, imprisoned in the bole, 
 
 Creature of sylvan glades and twilight moods, 
 
 A slim, bright girl yearned toward thee in her soul 
 And lured thee ever back to walk the woods ? 
 
 If so, thou shouldst have slept, all dreamings past. 
 
 Tranquil beneath the shade her leafage cast, 
 
 Keeping a solemn tryst, loved to the last. 
 
 31 
 
XXXVIII 
 
 But no, another Presence with a cry 
 
 Deeper, more constant, drew thee to thy doom, 
 
 Haunted thy waking, nixy-like lurked nigh, 
 
 Sang requiems of rest within the tomb ; 
 
 Strong was the tree-call, strong through all thy days, 
 
 But still more potent were the water-ways. 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 The water-ways are wondrous; rivers, lakes, 
 And bubbly well-runs in the inner wood, 
 
 Each has a voice that merry music makes 
 Or mournful, by the spirit understood : 
 
 Ever the ocean with her organ tones 
 
 Sings round the capes, or up the long sand moans. 
 
 XL 
 
 All the world sang for thee ; wood-wind and brass 
 Made tonal harmonies to haunt thine ear ; 
 
 The thinnest song from out the summer grass, 
 The tempest s choral-work, and, sphere by sphere. 
 
 32 
 
The stars of God, chanting their rhythm clear, 
 All, all made music, all to thee were dear. 
 Woods, winds, and waters, how they drew thy soul, 
 Up, out, and ever toward its destined goal ! 
 
 XLI 
 
 The water-call for thee was constant lure : 
 No Undine in a fable heard more sweet 
 
 The cool, soft croon, nor better loved the pure 
 Deep invitation where the mermaids meet. 
 
 So wert thou fain thine hours of ease to spend 
 
 Upon the bosom of this calling friend. 
 
 XLII 
 
 False friend and fateful day when thou didst glide 
 
 Ghost-like, at twilight, in the tiny boat 
 Out through the shadows of the eventide 
 
 Into the open waters, there to float 
 And dream; for as thou dream st, some evil thing 
 Beached from the waves to seize thy life, and bring 
 Deep sadness unto all who dream and sing. 
 
 33 
 
XLIII 
 
 The ebon trees against the saffron sky 
 At sunset-time attended thee; the day 
 
 Was fading, fading, tranquilly away 
 
 And soon the stars would shine serene and high ; 
 
 Husht were the waves, the looming woods were ware, 
 
 Clad in the half light, rising mystic there, 
 
 XLIV 
 
 Of thee and of thy handiwork ; Fate drew, 
 Along with thee, under the shadowy piers 
 
 Thy last, lost story-song wherein anew 
 Was told a legend out of elder years : 
 
 Sweet Gold Hair lived and loved beneath the sun ; 
 
 Not ours but thine is she, till Time be done. 
 
 XLV 
 
 Fain of the summer thou, so it was meet 
 That on her midmost day of song and shine 
 
 Thy life should cease; surely, such end is sweet: 
 What seemlier close could heart of man divine 
 
 34 
 
Than while the twilight tints ensoul the sky, 
 Part of the rapture of the sun s good-bye, 
 Swan-like to sing and, singing, so to die! 
 
 XLVI 
 
 I see two shapes that greet thee on the shore 
 
 Whereof the sun shines through eternal time ; 
 Twin lords of Beauty, beautiful to name, 
 
 Who make life musical with lovely rime ; 
 Above whatever once they knew of shame, 
 Despite or agony, they walk and smile, 
 Princes together, such forever more. 
 
 XL VII 
 
 Keats, who like thee died young, and Shelley too 
 Whom the wide waters swallowed ; surely both 
 Do bid thee welcome, feeling nothing loth 
 To hail with comrade words and vision true 
 A fellow singer, one whose flute was tuned 
 To such a sweetness as to heal death s wound. 
 
 35 
 
IV 
 
XLVIII 
 
 Rises before me the sweet, eloquent face, 
 
 The lithe form once again is at my side, 
 His speech is in mine ear, the moving grace 
 Of his dear presence warms the morning tide 
 Or makes the evening lovely ,-lo ! he s there ! 
 I reach my hand,- and meet the empty air. 
 
 XLIX 
 
 Nay, but that air shall stir to the rich strains 
 He struck upon Life s harp; silence shall break 
 Into such harmonies for Love s sole sake, 
 As when a flower after its birth-pains, 
 Bursts, white and odorous and full of scent, 
 Above the earth to bloom for man s content. 
 
 39 
 
Bloom ever, in the world s song- garden wide. 
 
 Dear one! I ll guard thee as a gardener 
 Would guard the growth he loves, nor let beside 
 
 Their fairness aught unsightly lift or stir ; 
 Wi ds fraught with mignonette and orient myrrh 
 Shall make thy dim walks fragrant, thy retreat 
 A place for lovers, thy meanderings sweet. 
 
 LI 
 
 so long as love is love, and glee 
 Comes with the morning, and rich beauty broods 
 In twilight skies; so long as interludes 
 
 Of music snatch the soul from misery; 
 
 So long as souls anlmnger for delight; 
 
 Arthur, thy words shall be of thrilling might. 
 
 LII 
 
 The soul goes single that hath Beauty known ; 
 
 Lovers and troops of friends were thine, but they 
 Could not restrain thee from thy very own : 
 
 40 
 
The spirit- summons from the Faraway. 
 The early Arthur, him of Camelot, 
 Brooded not straitlier on his mystic lot. 
 
 LIII 
 
 /. 
 
 Even as Arthur of the Table Bound 
 
 Followed the Gleam and fought the good fight 
 
 through, 
 Then floated down the mere unto the sound 
 
 Of flutes that like soft wind forever blew, 
 So thou didst straight embark and with a smile 
 Float on the bosom of the After- while. 
 
 LIV 
 
 The pure of heart are blessed ; they shall be 
 
 God s chosen, he is close to them alone. 
 Lover of earth, now heaven hath claim on thee, 
 
 Boldly thine eyes face that refulgency 
 Of more than mortal keeness ; for thine own 
 Were pure indeed ; forever safe thou art, 
 Because thine often-heavy human heart 
 Eests, circled by that promise: They shall see! 
 
 41 
 
 . ; : 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBEARY, 
 BERKELEY 
 
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 1927 
 
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211014 
 
 UNIVERST