HARYBDIS THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES v> \J CH ARYBDIS CHARYBDIS AND OTHER POEMS BY H. M. WAITHMAN |[ n b n EDEN, REMINGTON & CO., PUBLISHEkS KING STREET, COVENT GARDEN AI.l. RIGHTS RESERVED I89I TO MY BELOVe'd DEAD No longer earthly homes ye fill ; Ye closed your dear eyes peacefull)' ; I saw you lying cold and still, — Yet ye are here with me. For Death may close the weary eye, And Death may hush the failing breath, But yours is Immortality That triumphs over Death. 91 CONTENTS » ii.oooo i '^*- PACE Chakvbdis, ....... I Consummation, 3 Neptune's Flocks, 6 Ere that Day Dawn, 8 Avenged, to A Reckless Record, II Foiled, 13 A Snow-storm, 15 What Wonder ? i8 The Song of the Lark, 20 Star-Daisies, . 22 The Course of Time, 24 An Old-fashioned Conceit, 24 The Ballad of Forrabury Bells, 25 Alone, 29 Edged Tools, 33 Re-Arisen, 35 A Myth-Maiden, 37 'Ye are Dumb Dogs,' 39 Rest, ..... 41 Together, .... 43 Alternations, . • • H5 viii CONTENTS PACK World's Dawning, ...... 4*' Age, ..... 50 At \'ariance, .... 5^ Sonnet, .... ?4 'God Knows,' . 55 An Old-Maid's Story, . 57 ' Love's Young Dream,' 5^ Haste, .... 60 Dawn, .... 61 Beggar's Song to the Wind, . 62 Song, .... 63 Trifling, 63 The Valley of Lost Sunsets, . 67 ' Now is the Winter of our Discontent • 70 Haymaking, 72 Leafy-Town, 73 Songs, 75 Supposing, 76 Our Play, 77 But—, .... 82 A Fancy, 83 A Woman, 84 A Bonfire, 86 Carpe Diem, . «9 Cui Bono ? . 91 Swallows, 93 My King, yfi Just for a While, qS Transformation' 99 Goldilocks, 100 Bahy-Visions, . 102 A Pcrfci t Dream, 104 Love's Languages, «03 Aubadc. 107 CONTENTS ix PAGE Serenade, . . . . . . .no The Year's Flittingf, . III From the Sea- Wall, . 113 River-Song, . 114 Ver Variable, 116 ' Who are You ? ' 123 In the Clouds, 126 In the Woods in Spring, 127 Misnomers, . 130 Evening, 131 On the Moor, 132 Wind Song, . 134 The Sun's Wooing, . • 136 Earth's Music, 137 The Waggoner's Well, 139 Wishes, 141 My Cloud, . 142 The River, 145 The Witches' Frolic, 148 Winter's Watchman, . 15c The Spring goes by, . 152 At One, 153 Roses, 155 The Year's Misers, . 156 What Shall We be ? . 158 Fatality, 160 Pilgrimage, . 162 Feet of Clay, . 163 To the Sea, . 164 Days' Deaths, 166 Moon-Rays, . 169 In Spring, 170 Notes in a Garden, . 171 Scraps, 174 By Lot, . 176 CH ARYBDIS AND OTHER POEMS CHARYBDIS She sucketh in men's hearts unto her own ; She draws them in like drawing in of breath ; Her very Hfe indeed their very death. She is Charybdis — and they drown ! they drown ! The strongest swimmer has no chance with her ; If he but toucli the circle of her charm In vain he seeks to flee with vague alarm, Or battles with the strength of doomed despair. Mad with the lust of conquest and of power She blinds him with the rush of blinding sprays, She whirls him madly in the whirling maze : A moment's toy — the triumph of an hour ! CfJARYBD/S Then having worked her will riglu wilfully, And he is lifeless, budcted, undone, She leaves the haggard corpse to drift alone, And casts the bleached bones to the sullen sea. coxsclu.ua tion CONSUMMATION PART 1 I SAW your footmark on the sandy track ; I followed swift and silent where it led : So safe you felt you never once looked back While Death pursued you with a noiseless tread. You slipped along betwixt the hedge of yew; (As dark and stern it looked as coming fate To me ; you saw it not — but then 1 kncic) ; At length you vanished through the wicket gate. Along the lane, — adown whose rugged banks The twisted roots like serpents writhed and spread, While high above the boughs in serried ranks Closed all the day to darkness — on we sped. C0XSCMMA770.V W'c crossed the bridge above the silent stream Whose sullen surface never sees the sun ; So motionless the quiet waters seem A leaflet only shows the course they run. A swooning stillness seemed to hold the air; The very voices of the lea\cs were dumb. You, wlio lull! wrought mine uttermost despair, Had had your day — and now my turn was come I Alone we reached the common. Still alone We fled along beneath the lowering sky. Meseemed the world a voiceless blank hatl grown Till once I heard a lonely curlew cry. A lurid streak burned fiercely in the west, As red as blooj but newly spilt its hue ; The moorland pool was gashed across the breast With its reflection — And 1 thought of you. I gained upon you swi.flly, pace by pace. — How sure the feet of Vengeance seem to run ! I nearcd — I spoke — You turned — and saw my face ; The steel flashed bravely — anil the deeil was done. COA'SCM.UA TION PART II Then as you lay (O creeping, crimson stain ! How greedily the grey sand sucked it in !) I told your deafening ear the tale again With all its cruel truths of shame and sin. I watched your features — but they never stirred ; I looked — with every syllable that fell ; No sign — no sound. But O ! I pray you heard, And took it ringing in your ears to hell. One thing I know — you turned and saw me there, And swiftly recognition blanched your cheek. Though all /said but fell on empty air You heard your ruined soul's last fearful shriek ! How still you lay. I could not leave you so. Then 'mid the spiny tangle of the gorse I dragged you. Well for those who never know The strange unsupple weight that makes a corpse. Now what's for me ! whose days on earth are dead To aught of earth save misery and pain, While Death holds naught but bitterness and dread Lest deep in hell I meet you once again. AEPTCVrS f /.OCA'S NEPTUNE'S FLOCKS Vkkdant prairies of the ocean Where old Xepl line's herds are tended And his while flocks go a-straying Far as ever eye can see ; Where the dim and utmost distance With the sky to one is blended; Where the way is wild and trackless Anil the wiiul goes roving free. On the wide and rolling pastures Who shall count the flocks or lend ihem ? Docs some shepherdess-mermaiden Drive them onward through the nighl ? NEPTCXE'S FLOCKS Or some Triton, rudely blowing On his shell, affrighted send them Rushing madly in to shoreward With their fleeces soft and white ? We wdll shear the silver fleeces ; We will sit and swiftly spin them Into cloudy dreams of tissue, Such as veil the virgin moon ; We will weave them fine and filmy With the dyes of sunset in them. And will spangle them with star-drops Reft from out the nights of June. Then with deft and dainty touches We will delicately shape them Into hangings rich and splendid As no earthly house may hold. Round life's sordid things and mean ones We will softly twine and drape them, And all rugged edges soften 'Neath the mystery of their fold. • ERE TJ/A T DA Y DA WW ERE THAT DAY DAWN O HEARi's dear heart, will ilic hours grow dearer With tlie shortening time and the fading hght, Wliile the creeping shadow comes near and nearer To end at last in the moonless night ? Shall we grudge each moment that slips away From the golden hours of our short-lived day ? Shall we say to Love—' W'c have last entwined thee ? ' vShall we say to Time — 'We wmdd slay thy feet ? ' Shall we say to Life — ' Were it ours to bind thee We would hold thee now, at thy best, complete ? ' Shall we smile and say to each other ' Dear, It is thuu art Heaven, and Heaven is here?' ERE THA T DA Y DA IF.V Or shall we say, as the years grow older, To Time, ' Make haste, for our hearts are tired ; Our sun is set, and the hours grow colder, And naught is left that can be desired. For Life is bitter, and Love a lie, And all we know — It is good to die ! ' Ere that day dawn with its fell disaster Let each one pray with an earnest breath, That the whirl of the chariot-wheels come faster That will take us down to the doors of Death ; For better die while we long to live Than stay to envy what Death can give. 10 A VEXGED AVENGED 'Yes, you have met your match at last,' said she. •You've broken many a heart, aiul turned away Sated with " loving." Pah ! what blasphemy To use that word for such an every-day Occurrence I But you chose to call it so, And they — blind foolish women — thouj^ht it true. Poor fools indeed ! — but then they did not know How mean a thing is " love '' to such as you. Your \anity waxed fat. And then we met. You thought lo pla\' the self-same game with me. I watched you walk unconscious to the net Yourself had laid so oft and warily ! I drew the meshes closer day by day ; So slow — but surely. 1 had limtj lo wail. I drained your heart's blood drop by drop away. You woke at last to face tiie truth — too late. And here I have you lying at my feet. Your heart is breaking, say you ? Let it break. By your own snare brought low I The end is meet. And now JO// know how women';, hearts can ache.' A RECKLESS RECORD ii A RECKLESS RECORD Come along ! join the whirl and be merry ; Let us revel and love and be gay ; Let us drain the sweet juice of the berry As long as we may. Let us run to the end of our tether Regardless of prophecied ban. What odds ? Let us all go together As far as we can. When the call comes to go we will take you As near as we can to the door ; In farewell by the hand we will shake you. What can we do more ? 12 A A'£CA'l£SS RECORD Wliai inauer to us if your pastime Has its cost ? You will have to atone. \\c h.ave bid you good-bye for the last time. You must face it alone. W'c will stay the mad whirl in our sorrow For a moment— a day— but no more ; And the wheel will be turning to-morrow As fast as before. FOILED 13 FOILED He schemed a scheme whereby to make Himself beloved ; He plotted till his heart did ache To see it proved. All day he thought upon the scheme, And all the night It moved before him in his dream Till mornincr's ligrht. He passed each portion in review With anxious care, To know that every step was true. No flaw was there. H FOILED He swept all obstacles away Without relent, And crushed whatever might delay His full content. He counted carefully the cost, Nor turned afraid Wlicn suiniuing up the uttermost The total made. With silent patience he endured The hardest strain ; Content to wait, so well assured The end was gain. The fruit was ripening in the sun To crown the year. He knew the waiting almost done ; The prize was near. The hour had struck. Kighl greedily lie clutched his gain, I3ut— Death stepped in, in lionl of him, And all was vain ! A SNOW-SrOj^M 15 A SNOW-STORM O THE whirling of the snow ! How the flakelets come and go To and fro, to and fro, Falling fast, and falling slow With a shimmer, shimmer, shimmer, And a glimmer, glimmer, glimmer, See the world is growing dimmer In the whirling and dancing of the snow To and fro. How the flakelets come and go ! Till one hardly seems to know Which is heaven, or earth below. All is dim and undefined As a dream that haunts the mind. And the wind — dreary wind ! — Spins and shudders through the blind. Dream of snow. Dancing slow, ,6 A sxo\v-sro/f.\J Whirling wildly to and fro, Till the earth and sky are set la a inaddeninj,' minuet, Moving softly, treading slow. Waxing wilder as they go To and fro, to and fro I„ ihe whirling and the dancing of ihe snow. How the flakelets come and go ! With a sudden ebb or llow. Blown of all the winds that blow To and fro. Now they larger seem to grow ; Falling stately, falling slow ; Thinking, thinking, as they go Down to die on eartli below, Full of weariness and woe. Weirdly wan and weary things ; Sheeted ghosts on silent wings ; In a el<»ud, in a crowd ; How the wrapinng of their shroud Closely clings ! 11,, w the cruel bnnvn earth clutches Every snow-flake as it touches ! A SNOW STORM 17 It is dead ere one can tell Where it fell. But it fell. And the others follow faster To the dolorous disaster With a fierce and sudden flow ; Seeking high and seeking low, Keen to know. Finer, finer still they blow To and fro, to and fro. Will they never slack or slow ? Never — no ! Never — no ! The}- will waver to and fro Ever more — ever so. Whirling, whirling, ever whirling Till the wild white air is swirling; To and fro, as they go. And the brain reels to and fro, To and fro, to and fro, With the shimmering silent snow, With the glamour and the gleaming, With the drifting and the dreaming, With the whirling and the dancing of the snow To and fro. B ,8 WNA T WONDER f WHAT WONDER? Is it a wonder the wind is c^rieving Out in the passionate world to-day ? Deeds are done that have no retrieving ; Hearts are hurt lliat are past reHeving ; Words are said tliat we can't unsay. Is it a wonder tlic clouds are Hying Over the pitiless world to-day ? Voices call that have no replying ; Ear? are closed to the sound of crying ; Hearts are hardened and turned away. Is it a wonder the rain is falling Over the sorrowful world to-day? Links arc broken once all-enthralling ; Bonds arc tightened and chains arc galling, — Freed or fettered, alike dismay ! WHAT WONDER? li^ Wail, oh wind, with a plaintive wailing ! Pain and Passion grow rank and rife. Fly, oh clouds, from the woes prevailing ! Weep, oh rain, with a fount unfailing ! Endless ills are the ills of life. THE SONG OF THE LARK THE SONG OF THE LARK An Angel came to the Earth one day On a Mission sent, and he felt forlorn So far in the desolate ^vorld away; So he sat him down in the rustling corn, And with heart aweary and folded wing He sang the song he was used to sing. Then all things listened to hear the song As it throbbed, and swelled, and was upward borne ; III I he heart of the breeze it was swept along And he whispered it down to the ears of corn, Who bowed their heads as his voice went by And told each (.ther tiie melody. The slumbering poppy the sound oVrheard ; She brake in haste in her downy shell And spread her petals to hold each word. THE SONG OF THE LARK 21 And when the shade of the evening fell In the daisy's heart and the buttercup The song of the angel was folded up. A squirrel sat on a bough near by Like a carven squirrel ; and every bird Had hushed, and was listening silently; And never a leaf of the woodland stirred. E'en the shy mice crept through the stalks of wheat And nestled close to the singer's feet. The sound was hushed, and the song was done; The angel passed from the field away, And never a creature that heard, save one, Could quite remember the tender lay. They strove their best, and some notes were theirs ; But the lark knew all, and the song was hers. So that is why as she sings she soars, For the song within her will seek its home, And it bears her up to the golden doors Till it hears the echoing answer come; Then filled with patience it sinks to rest Content to wait in the lark's grey breast. STAA' DAISIES STAR DAISIES Hkarts of gold that the wliilc rims hold, Like amber wine in a silver chalice I Stars that slipped through the frosty night Down the sky, and were hid from sight Deep in earth, that at last lliey might Blossom as flowers in the Sinnmer's palace. Daylight dims, and a soft wind skims, With wings as light as the night-moth's hover, White and weird is the daisies' dance ; Weird and strange as an old romance. Ghosts of stars that awake from trance Call to the stars that are shining over : Stars so high in the midnight sky ! Sweet sister stars in the purple setting ! Wrapped in robes that are silver cold STAR DAISIES 23 Yet warm our hearts as in days of old, — Robes of silver, but hearts of gold ; Fallen from heaven, but unforgetting. ' Do ye know we are here below ? Man's heart looked up to the distant shining ; Far were we in the utmost blue; Vain his yearning — ah ! well we knew — So we fell to the earth and grew Answer sweet to his soul's repining. ' Is the cost of our labours lost ? Nay, sister-stars, it hath full repaying. Earth is glad where we bloom and blow ; Man's heart sings when he sees us grow. Love is ours in the world below. Heaven is ours after Love's delaying." Daisies fade in the sun and shade ; Fair petals fall as the year is flying. But each daisy that blooms and dies Shines once more in the midnight skies. Silver robes were a fair disguise But hearts of gold are as stars undying. -4 THE COURSE OF TIME THE COURSE OF TIME The course of Time counts not by days or years, But measures long or short by joy or tears ; Joy, all absorbed, marks not his rapid flight, Years pass unheeded as a summer's night ; But sorrow binds his wings — he creeps away — An age of anguish centred in a day. AN OLD-FASllIOXKD COXCKIT Long lashes, like tail rushes, fringe the brink Of those two limiiiil lakes — my true love's eyes ? Love leaned o'er them from their sweet depths to drink And still he mirrored on their surface lies. THE BALLAD OF FORRABURY BELLS 25 THE BALLAD OF FORRABURY BELLS Hark ! do you hear them ? How the bells are tolling, Across the bay to-night ? Amid the roar and crash of billows rolling With furious might, Higher than wind or wave in music, swells The loud mysterious tolling of the bells. How came they there ? — Have you not heard the story ? Then listen while I tell How they are chanting — ' To the Lord the Glory ! ' And every bell Sings the same strain, and joins with sweet accord In bidding all who hear them — ' Praise the Lord ! ' Long years ago the folk of Forrabury Resolved to have a chime. 26 THE BALLAD OF FORRABURY BELLS To gaily ring when folk were blithe and merry, Or toll at time Of death ; for hitherto, as you must know. No bells had waked the silence of Bottreaux. And so the bells were ordered ; and the casting Completed, they were blessed. Then safe on shipboard, soon were swiftly hasting To their last rest. So fair a voyage on so calm a sea Along that coast was never known to be. But while they waited for the title's inflowing. To cross the harb(uir-bar, Across the downs Tintagel's bells were throwing Their music far. The pilot heard the vesper chime, and said : — 'Thanks be to God, Whose Hand hath safely led.' Then long the Captain laughed, while loudly swearing No other I hanks were due Than to the noble ship, his anxious caring. The trusty crew. He scorned the pilot's praying, and he swore Sans God, himself \.o bring them safe ashore. THE BALLAD OF FORRABURY BELLS 27 * May God forgive you ! ' said the pilot sadly ; And even as he spoke The great Atlantic wave sped swiftly, madly. It swelled — and broke !* Where now was gallant ship or trusty crew ? Gone — like the glitter of the morning dew. Gone, deep beneath the waste of furious ocean ; No more to re-appear. High on the cliffs in terror and emotion They huddled near Who had been watching till the ship should ride Safe into harbour with the coming tide. Only the pilot landed, safely clinging To some light-floating spar. The bells were lost forever ; but their ringing Is heard afar Sounding the voice of warning o'er the deep When wild winds rage and angry billows leap. * 'Those who are familiar with the northern shores of Cornwall will know that sometimes a huge wave, generated by some m3'sterious power in the wide Atlantic will roll on, overpowering everj'thing with its weight.' 28 THE BALLAD OF FORRABURY BELLS Silence still broods in Forrabury Tower ; No bells are swinging there For joy or grief, or yet to call the hour Of praise and prayer. But from the sea, that men may not forget, ' To God the praise ! ' the bells arc chiming yet. ALONE 29 ALONE Alonp:, alone, forevermore alone. The others pass her by With laughing eye, With voices ringing cheerily And answering so merrily; Hands clasped in hands, Face turned to face. And here she stands Alone, alone, alone, in her own place. Alone, alone, forevermore alone. And yet she hath not heart of stone. Perchance that Galatea-wise She looks a statue to their eyes. 30 ALONE 'Tis only in her loneliness alone She maketh moan, And wringeth empty hands, And wavcth cmjitv arms unto the sky, And cries with an exceeding bitter cry That no one understands. Alone, alone, forevermore alone. They say — she is so cold; Who would be over-bold To call her from those icy summits down ? Who would disturb the wise Sad slumber of her eyes, Lest looking graver still she also frown ? Alone, alone, forevermore alone. They say — oh let her be ! She lives so dreamily; She has no part wiili us nor we witii her. We will no sad-faced ghost, We will no voiceless image mute, To throw a shadow 'mid the merry host, To chill the sound of laughter and of lute. There where she stands so still we leave her there. ALONE 31 Alone, alone, forevermore alone. And so they passing reck no more of her. They pass her by so cheerily, With voices ringing merrily; Hands clasped in hands, Face turned to face. And there she stands Stone-cold and tearless in her dumb despair. Alone, alone, forevermore alone. Never a hand to clasp her soft and warm. Never an arm to shield her from the storm, Never a voice to say to her ' My own ! ' Ah no ! unto herself she must suffice; Be her own altar, her own sacrifice; Grow used to watch the Future all alone; Blink back the unshed tears that sometimes start And drop them slowly, slowly, on her heart ; Bind to her side her arms lest their appeal Should show the world the emptiness they feel; Guard her slow tongue, keep watch upon her eyes, That all may think — O dreariest of lies ! That she is quite content to be alone. 32 ALOXE Alone, alone, forevermore alone. ' Behold I ' they say — ' this miracle of stone ! This self-sufficing dreamer ! Living — still So unresponsive, self-contained and chill. She would not condescend to such as we, And so we do not love her.' Meanwhile she Listens with ears that hear — with heart that cries, Speechless, expressionless, save in her eyes A slow smile creeps, a smile as sad as death. For she, who sees the surface underneath, Watches the throes and hears the parting sighs Of one lone soul — and no one knows it dies. EDGED TOOLS 33 EDGED TOOLS Ah, sure 'tis ill to play with edged tools, To trifle with a dagger 'just for fun,' And show the silly bravery of fools Who misappreciate the risk they run. Come, pretty fool, and have a game of play ! I'll make the little bauble spark and shine, And turn it this and that and every way; Only, the handle I must hold as mine. Just the plain handle; that was never made For dainty fingers, slim and fair as those. See the fine glitter of the polished blade. How the reflected fire-light burns and glows. 34 EDGED TOOLS Mark how the steel is deftly damascened With quaint device and delicate design; How through the moonlit blue wherewith 'tis sheened, The gold and silver fancies intertwine. See at each gentlest moving of the wrist, How the blade flashes ! By some magic spell It seems as if at every turn and twist A shower of diamond arrows fled and fell. Ha ! fool ! hast slipped ? and has it pierced thy heart, And brought the life-blood welling through the wound ? Ah well, the fault's not mine; I played my part To please thee — and my hand is whole and sound. RE- A RISEN 35 RE-ARISEN I HID it away in a deep dark closet In the house of my heart ; and I locked the door And wrote on the threshold : — ' Behold ! this was it — The love that I bore, but I bear no more.' I hung fair wreaths at the dreary portal, Sweet flowers that blossom, frail flowers that fade, For I said — ' As are they, so my love is mortal ; Though it bloomed in the sun it will die in the shade/ Then was silence. But when 'twas broken By the thin keen sound of the coldest word That ever the lips of a friend have spoken The love that was hidden awoke and stirred. 36 RE- A RISEN Awoke and stirred, and arose and thundered At the door that was closed till it brake it through And stood in the light ; and my faint heart wondered, For I thought it had died — and behold it grew ! As its strong feet trod on the faded wreathings Their scent rose sweet on the troubled air, And the sere leaves told by their bahny breathings That the soul of the roses still lingered there. It were vain to hide it again — the sorrow Of the sweet lost love and the sad sharp pain, I'^or at sound of a voice if it spoke to-morrow, It would break from the deeps of its tomb again. So I let it stand where I needs must see it — Like the dead man gutst at an old time feast — Till at last no more shall I seek to flee it When my oKl wild ilreail of its power has ceased. A MYTH-MAIDEN 37 A MYTH-MAIDEN Somewhere in story they found her; In a myth-robe grey She was hidden away With the mists of the morning round her. Then they dragged her forth to the light of day, And decked her all in a garment gay, And with wreaths of fancies crowned her. But the ghosts that loved her in days long dead Know her not with her crowned head, And her robes of silver and golden thread. They mourn the robe that she wore erewhile; The faint soft flush, and the fair sweet smile; The life retiring, and free from guile. They mourn and will not be comforted. 33 A MYTH-MAIDES' For who wouUl know that the garish dame, With the bold bright eyes and the lips of flame And the doubtful praise of a well-known name, Could be the same As the pale sweet may In the mylh-robc grey With the mists of the morning round her. ¥£ ARE DUMB DOGS 39 YE ARE DUMB DOGS ' Dumb dogs ' are we. Ay me, but it is so. Who does not know the untold agony Of his own dumbness ? and the speechless woe Of seeming that which he the least would be ? I, who would pour my very soul to you In one wild flood of passionate appeal, Or in a language eloquent and true My best, most real self, would fain reveal, Am dumb ! — Ah dumb ! — I speak — my lips belie My heart's best meanings, make them poor and cold; Or masquerade them, set them all awry, Till it were best they had been quite untold. 40 y£ ARE DUMB DOGS Or, — surging with the siknt storm wilhin, — With passionless conventionality I sit and talk of this and that; the din Of outer voices drowns the inner cry. Words ! What are words ? A mask, a shield whereby We hide ourselves, lest others know too well That we would keep, or they perchance should spy The hidden things we break our hearts to tell ! So, overflowed as with a torrent's might With all the day has prisoned dumb and dead, I spend the silent watches of the night In saying all my lips must leave unsaid. Fired with an eloquence unknown by day, Filleii with a camlour born of stilly night, My heart her wonted barriers tears away And empties all her thoughts in freed delight; And joying, to herself she gail)' tells : — 'This will I say! When will to-morrow come ?' The morning breaks, renewing daylight's spells; — We meet — and lo ! my heart again is dumb. J?£ST 41 REST ' Oh that I had the wings of a dove ! Then would I fly away and be at rest.' Would you do so, my heart ? Would you do so ? Wheie would you go ? Where is there rest for you on land or sea ? On what fair branches of what tall green tree 'iVIid leaves that sigh and whisper in the wind Rest would you find ? There is no rest, my heart, for you— no rest, No place to nest. What though with wearied wings you strive to fly Ten million miles beneath the heedless sky To seek it— Though you fly till night shall fall, — No rest at all. 42 There is no rest, my heart, for you, because Unspoken laws Say surely that the heart who rest would know Must take it with him. If he do not so He will not find it anywhere. Is rest Within your breast ? And so 'tis wise, oh heart, to sit and wait The ways of Fate ; Not spend your energies in useless flight But hoard them for the fresh on-coming fight. Patience will bring her sister Rest anon If you wait on. TOGETHER 43 TOGETHER Old Father Time knew a youth and knew a maiden, And he watched them older growing, As the years were onward going With fair youth and pleasure laden. Old Father Time knew they were for one another, So he guided all their paces Far away from distant places Till they met and loved each other. Old Father Time laid his hand on them, caressing. Saying : — ' Love so well and dearly, That I, at my coming yearly, May but bring a richer blessing.' 44 TOGETHER Old Father Time saw them on Hfe's journey moving, Watched them as they went together Througii the fair and stormy weather Ever more devoted proving. Old Father Time came at last unto them saying : — ' Ye must leave me for my brother; God hath said it and no other; Yc must go without delaying.' ' Dear Father Time,' said they, ' we have ne'er been parted ! ' So they passed out haiui in hand Out into the Silent Land, To the land of the true-hearted. AL TERN A TIONS 45 ALTERNATIONS To-day I have a voice that sings Like a wee bird within my heart j My spirits fly on joyful wings; No longer life hath teen or smart; Its stings Depart. To-morrow finds me sad, distressed, Bowed down with burden of my woe; So sorrow-laden and opprest, As if my weary heart could know No rest Below. 46 ALTEKXAT/OA'S To-day it is a joy to be; To see the children of the spriiii> Upbreak in blossom gloriously, And all things to her welcoming Agree To sing. To-niorr'jw — ah ! the day is long. If years be made of days like this One needs to ' suffer and be strong ! ' To days that are so much amiss Belong No bliss. To-day Hope sits beside my hand, And tells me tales of by-and-bye; Fair tales I fain woukl understand, Yet am contciU to wail till 1 Shall slanil Anigh. To-morrow leaden-hued Despair Blots all things other out of sight; Makes every trivial grief a care. AL TERN A TIONS 47 And saps the heart from out delight With her Keen bhght. To-day a sunbeam radiance throws That lights to gold the meanest things. With light and warmth divine it glows; The frozen heart anew upsprings And grows And sings. To-morrow clouds obscure the sun, And drown his golden rays in rain; The shadows grow, and one by one The happy sparkling lights are slain Till none Remain. Thus now with fairest blooms of May, Anon with winter snows besprent Life passes. Thus enveiled in grey Or with fulfilment of content Each day Is spent. 48 WOKLiyS DA WXIXG WORLD'S DAWNING Wk strive to fiinl the Dawn. We peer Adowii the utmost Past, and say ' Behold the Dawning ! it was here ! ' But as it grows more clear and clear The fragments of an older day Behind this dawning reappear. Yet far and farther on we go. From ilawn to dawn we slowly track, As following ever further back Our age-long days in numbers grow, And yet another day we lack, Another dawning's earliest glow ! WORLD'S DA WNING 49 Where is the Dawning ? Where, oh ! where ? Like peevish babes we cry to see. Why vex thy soul, oh man ? or care So much to know ? — lest thou despair; For Past alike with Yet-to-be Is circled by Eternity. 1) 50 A GE AGE Why is the face of age unbeautiful, Worn, faded, dull ? The limbs so feeble, back so lowly bent. The strength all spent ? The thought of Present, Past and I'uture sprinkles The brow with wrinkles. The constant wear and fret of daily cares Brings forth grey hairs. Tears wrung from out the heart's deep agonies Bedim the eyes. The weight of this worUl's heavy-loaded jiack Bows down the back. The endless struggling will produce at length The lack of strength. AGE 51 The feeble feet are tired with having trod The road to God. But scorn not age, for 'neath its homely face Oft canst thou trace The hidden angel who stands waiting there Divinely fair. 52 AT VAUIAXCE AT \'ARIANXE HiMSELF-thal-is, Himsclf-that-fain- would-be Arc wakened to a war of enmity; And he is torn willi agony of strife, With IvLcn upbraidings, sharper than a knife Tliat cut into the very core of life. His would-be self, unbending, stern, erect. Proud with the pride that springs from self-respect; Armed willi a love of truth defined and strong; Seeking the Right, intolerant of wrong; Ready to battle, and to battle l