iWUPT M i H i| > C m> ^>M mmmm o o0XKi mmpmtm m * t9 &$^&Rg&M? : : m\ I mm THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE VISION OF A BEGINNER AND OTHER POEMS a ■ SPECIAL NOTICE.— The New and Revised Edition con- tains Prefatory Remarks by the Right Hon. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., who has read and approved the volume. THE STANDARD WORK ON AUTHORSHIP. Crown Svo, Cloth Gilt, Price 5s. ; Postage, 4|d. (Fifth Edition. New and Revised.) THE AUTHOR'S MANUAL, Being a Complete, Practical Guide to all Branches of Journalism, Literary Work generally, and Book-pro- ducing, with special advice in reference to Imaginative Literature. By PERCY RUSSELL. Brief Extracts from some of the Reviews : — The Spectator says : — " The aspirant to Literature may certainly read Mr Russell's book with profit." The Graphic says : — " Mr Russell has got up his subject with much care, and supplies a great deal of useful information. His advice and suggestions are sound and to the point." St Stephen's Review says : — " ' The Author's Manual ' is clever to a fault. It displays much practical knowledge ... it shows a general knowledge of English literature which not one literary man in a hundred can boast." The Narcf his chapters are instructive." Bliss M. E. Bbaddoh writes: — "Your counsel, both to the journalist and the imaginative writer, is full of wisdom." LONDON: DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. A Complete Catalogue of Novels, Travels, Biographies, Poems, etc., free by post on application. THE VISION OF A BEGINNER AND OTHER POEMS BY CONSTANCE FINCH % o n D o n DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. 18 9 2 AM ■ H>eMcateJ> TO JEAN INGELOW A TOKEN OF SINCERE ADMIRATION AND GRATITUDE 7055' CONTENTS. The Vision of a Beginner, Ode to Some Happy Houes, A Summeb Night's Fancy, Dreams upon Dreams, . It was Love's Way, Love's Request, Apollo's Prize, . Ode to Keats after reading Triolet, . False Words, Doth Sleep mock Love ? A Song of Spring, A Ballad of April, Sometimes, An Ocean Fancy, It was Your Name ! A Fragment, Morning and Night, If Love be like a Rose, Triolet, . His Ode to a Nightingale TAGS 1 6 9 11 13 14 16 19 21 22 26 28 29 30 31 37 39 40 41 43 vm CONTENTS. PAGE Sonnets — Desire dnattained (Three), 44 To a Nightingale, ..... 47 A Lonely Poppy, ..... 48 A Thunderstorm ; or, Satan's Fall, 49 Thy Love and Mine, .... 50 The Elm Tree and Pool, 51 Rejected, ...... 52 Monotony, ...... 53 The Legend op the Olive Trees, 54 What's in a Name ? 5 Love's Play, . . . . , 56 A Sigh !..... 57 The Other Side op Heaven, .... 59 Rondels — 'Twas not in Vain! .... 62 Good-bye, a long Good-bye ! 63 Love stooped and said, 64 Delay not Sweet ! . 66 The Flight op the Muse, .... 67 When Thou art Gone ! .... 69 Ode to Memory, . . . . 70 Triolet, ... . 72 If All be Well, ...... 73 Cupid's Casket, . . ... 74 On being asked to write an Ode to the Dawn, 76 How is Love blest ?...... 77 A Good-bye, ....... 79 Rondel in Mono-Rhyme, . . . . . 81 Love's Height, ....... 82 Love's Way is best ! 84 Reverie on a Dead Year, . . . . . 85 Love seeds not Time, ...... 87 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER AND OTHER POEMS THE VISION OF A BEGINNER. There flashed forth music from the thousand swords Of mystic warriors, who protect the sun, — A mighty pean of triumphant words Which woke my soul with " Rise ! life has begun ! " Then from the gossamer thread most finely wove Sparks as of crystal fire began to swing, Till blossomed in the dark the form of Love And smote upon that slight vibrating string. A 2 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Oh, how it quivered, panted, then burst forth With mingled pain and gladness into song ; Grew overbold to test the sweet dawn's worth Instilled with proud desire, by Love made strong. * * * ■* * # There is a rainbow wrapped about the sun, A cloud reflects it, then can shadows be Only without a radiance when not one Redeeming light comes forth to set them free. There is a hidden sweetness in all things Unbudded, tho' the calyx holds them fast, Voluptuous as the breath of dawning Springs If kept secure against the chilling blast. Infinity holds somewhere worlds of fire Clothed with perennial life, and so each soul Can cleave the clay that binds it and aspire With burning strength to win a glorious goal. So spake I to a pale disdainful Form Which fixed my spirit with its icy stare, " Thou hast no right to hold the Worm, O Death, before Youth's glittering eyes. 'Tis fair AND OTHER POEMS o This world wherein my eyes have chanced to wake, 'Tis warmed with sunlight, drenched with beauty thro' The air is full of music for my sake, I am made strong with life, as flow'rs with dew." But It replied, "Full of conceit is Youth, Short-sighted, deeming land ends in the sea, Forgetful of the other side of truth, How many lands again beyond there be ! " My soul flies onward, and I see there come Strange winged creatures, beautiful but sad, These are the weary Loves, who have no home, Bereft of innocence, which once they had. The dust of many ages thickly lies Upon the tarnished glory of their wings, The tears of many sorrows dim their eyes, They have forgotten the glad look of things. If ye would only look anear, afar, And see how tenderly the meadows smile 4 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, And mark the heavens a-light with many a star, Ye would forget your sorrow for a while. I will refresh you with my heart's content, My overstore of happiness shall fill Your empty flasks of joy with wonderment — Taste once again enchantment's blessed rill ! But the sad Loves are weary and grown old, They are too weary to be comforted — Let Styx, dark stream, deep over them be rolled, So if they may find peace among the dead. Next do I meet a great unnumbered host With broken lyres across their shoulders flung, As if the soul of music they had lost, These are the poets who have never sung. Long since the golden mountains died in mist Faded beyond the bourne they were so fain To reach, alas ! their lips are all unkissed J5y the cold Muse they wooed, but could not gain ! AND OTHER POEMS. 5 Is there no hope to set their lyres in tune When the world teems with music far and wide ? Even the swallows constant are in June, Is hope so fleeting, cannot she abide ? They seem to smile upon my earnestness, A smile so sad it wrings my soul with fear, Let us pass on, " Life is a wilderness ! " They wail aloud, but Heart we will not hear. I know the riddle is as yet unsolved, The dawn that dreams in tender shades of grey May ere an hour has round the world revolved, Be melted in a watery trail away. I know that snow grows foul upon the earth, That roses wither, that calm seas can fret, And death is sequel to the body's birth, I know, but ah ! remind me not just yet. Enough to feel God's wisdom will provide Fresh pinions for my soul, when these wings tire, Ere the heav'ns darken, ere the lost stars slide, Let me believe 'tis Love makes all respire ! 6 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, ODE TO SOME HAPPY HOURS. O! cruel hours, so fleet to fly, When Love entreated you to stay ! Ye heeded not his minstrelsy, From all his prayers ye turned away ; And flew with rosy wings, thro' skies As cruel as yourselves, which smile, Revealing not to Love's sad eyes The heav'ns in which ye hide the while. In vain we vowed we held you fast, That tho' the twilight should decline And melt into the silent past, We bound you with a charm divine; In vain — the silken fetters broke, Faded the fragile thong of flowers, From a fond dream Love saddening woke, And found you dead, like other hours! AND OTHER POEMS. 7 Is it of this the waves complain, When each tide bears them from the shore, That tho' they meet so soon again, Time smites each foam-kiss dead at core ? The same sand gleams, yet not the same, Some golden pebbles slip aside, So passion, which no pow'r can tame, Murmurs against Life's ebbing tide. Why should we ask what heav'n may mean ? 'Tis surely Love from these faults free ; No parting hand shall fall between, No joy but lasts eternally, The futile fears that make Love fret Time's finger weighing down his wings, The shattered sweet, the vague regret, Heav'n will be Love, freed from these things ! Sweet hours ! tho' cruel, lie at rest Cradled in rose leaves, wrapt in scent, On some high world's serencr breast, Than this, to which brief space ye lent 8 THE VISION OF A BEGINNEK, Such perfect rapture, dream at ease Secure from mortal hopes and tears, Till Love his sign resplendent sees And claims you his in coming years. Yea, tho' we mourn you lost and dead, Tho' yearning arms clasp only air That sought the breathing form- instead, We mourn, but do not yet despair, Love's highest hope ye cannot cheat, Such scent was scattered 'mong the flow'rs Where'er ye hide, that wealth of sweet, Shall yet reveal you cruel hours! AND OTHER POEMS. A SUMMER NIGHT'S FANCY. I FOUND a tired bee asleep, Within a flow'r's deep bell, And while the night winds round it creep Those folded petals sway to keep Love's treasure hidden well. The moon sails slowly through the sky, The pale flow'r grows more white, For ah ! the cold moon comes to spy What in that flow'r's heart can lie, To cause such sweet delight. 'Tis vain to hide thy head, oh flow'r, The quiv'ring petals part, 'Gainst moonbeam charms thou hast no pow'r, Be glad that Love could dream an hour Secure within thy heart ! 10 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, I saw yon sorrowing flower weep, Her clinging leaves entwine A lifeless bee, in passion deep She crushed his tiny wings to keep Love's secret yet divine ! ENVOI. Love is not Love when alien eyes Have found his resting-place, The air is sacred where he sighs, And holy are his mysteries, Since heav'n is Love's embrace! AND OTHER POEMS. 11 DREAMS UPON DREAMS. RONDEL. Dreams upon dreams I have woven together, Breathed in their souls all my spirit's desire ; Their pinions are fashioned of one azure feather ; Yet thro' infinite space they can fly and not tire ; Beauteous as roses that bloom in fair weather, Dreams upon dreams ! The tears of the mist as it clasps the earth sleeping, The breath of the foam as it kisses the wave, The wind that complains, over hill and dale leaping, Have striven in vain my dreams' pinions to have ; They were born of my joy, cradled yet in my weeping, Dreams upon dreams ! Dreams upon dreams, like bright angels they hov Urging my soul to upsoar and aspire, er 12 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, They would vanquish despair and hope's secret discover, Tender their voices, like chords of a lyre, , Passionate, yearning, the prayers of a lover, Dreams upon dreams ! Dreams upon dreams, will they die with awaking? Shuddering fade like the bloom on a rose? When the shadows grow less and the heart ceases aching, Will reality be the more lovely, who knows? Death may hold sweeter visions than these of Life's making, Dreams upon dreams ! AND OTHER POEMS. 13 IT WAS LOVE'S WAY. RONDEL. It was Love's way in the sweet past to come With laughing lips, where rosiest kisses grew, And beauteous eyes be-pearled with tender dew, Because a faithful heart was then his home ; — Most subtle were his moods, now grave now gay, — It was Love's way ! And is this Love, — who comes with solemn pace ? With wounded wings whose azure sheen is soiled ? With restless eyes and weary yearning face, Homeless, forlorn, tho' he has nobly toiled ? Alas ! he comes in strange disguise to-day, — It is Love's way ! Love's way it shall be yet to live again, A new proud life ; but ah ! you must not blame If the sweet lips should wear a look of pain, Or if the once bruised wings seem frail and tame, Remember ! and with pitying passion say, — It is Love's way ! 1-4 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, LOVE'S REQUEST. FRAGMENT. Dear, could I love as others do, Contented with Love's lightest breath, Believing love lasts longer so ; " Love me a little, and till death." Love me a little ? — ah ! no, no ! I cannot be thus satisfied ; What worth a pallid sunbeam's glow By artificial warmth supplied ? I feel Love is too great a Good, Too pure a thing for us to gain And use for life's eternal food ; The flame divine cannot remain. I'd rather have one glimpse of heaven, llcach the proud height, then fall to earth AND OTHER POEMS. 15 Than never know the distance even Nor all that steep ascent is worth. « Love me with passion so supreme, Superlative, while love can last, And I shall be content to dream Of that one hour, tho' time be vast ! Love me with all your soul, your breath, With all the strength that truth can prove, Love me, not " little and till death," Love me, and death will die in Love ! 16 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, APOLLO'S PRIZE. In that fair land where summer ever lies With laughing lips, in fair abandoned- wise, Where ev'n the slightest cloudlet dare not pout, Nor on the skies his venturous wings stretch out — Glorious Apollo, charmed the happy hours With magic music, till the earth blushed flow'rs, So overcome with joy her list'ning heart. Cupid forgot to poise his ready dart And let a score of mortal hearts go free, So great the magic of this minstrelsy. The god at length grew weary, but his wit Soon remedied this passing languid fit ; " Let now " (he said) " the happiest things alive Come nigh, and for this wreath of laurel strive, Which I will give to him who best displays His guileless rapture in a song of praise." List'ning, my heart grew strong with bold desire To win the prize, — I tuned my trembling lyre. AND OTHER POEMS. 17 But first a nightingale the challenge dared, Confident of success, he scarcely cared To glance upon his rivals, but began ; — Apollo's cheek itself from red turned wan With ecstasy, as the sweet pean thrilled The bird's soft body, louder yet he trilled, And as the spirit oft becomes o'er wrought With the great sweetness of some holy thought, Till sympathetic tears the soul lay bare, So wept each living thing that listened there ! The next competitor, a wild sea wave, His passionate song of happiness then gave ; O ! the wave's song was rapturous and free, Full of the untamed music of the sea, Yet tenderly, he made us understand The charm that binds his kisses to the sand, Which faithfully his yearning lips caress With all the passion of great eagerness. Full many a one the honour strove to win, Birds without number, the triumphant din B 18 THE VISION OF A BEGINxVER. Of waterfalls ; each in his turned assayed, At last mine also came — I grew afraid — Speechless with great desire, before the throng I stood, and strove to sing, alas ! no song Came from my trembling lips, my lyre away I flung in anger at my own dismay; — Then suddenly, just as Apollo moved To drive me thence, the name of one I loved Surged from my heart, it fed my lips with fire ! What need had I of help from any lyre ! Asrain, ajyain I made the echoes ring With music love alone knows how to sing. And plucking from his brows the laurel crown, Apollo blessed me : " Mortal, this renown Is fairly won, justly to thee belongs This tribute of the greatest of all songs. A sweeter chord than any I have made, A note whose resonance shall never fade, A glory greater than the fire of fame, Lies in the music of a loved one's name ! " AND OTHER POEMS. 19 ODE TO KEATS AFTER READING HIS ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE. To thee, sweet Poet, turns my fainting brain Ev'n as some streamlet lost in forest glade Is soothed and comforted by scented shade, So this charmed song of thine dispels my pain. Heartsick, like thee, but sadder, out of tune With the great world's unfathomable song, I find no pleasure in this rich mid-June, I hear no nightingale the shades among. "Darkling I listen," till there fades away This present sense of life — I panting breathe Beside thee — see the moonlight vapours wreathe Around the self-same landscape, soft and grey ; Thee, not an immortal spirit, but a Form Living my life, o'erwhelmed with love, like mine ; A passionate heart, throbbing alive and warm — But yet a soul, whose sorrow is divine. 20 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, The midnight breeze has also stayed awhile Its whispering murmurs, with the trembling leaves, Floating in dew, the rose — a scented isle — Wond'ring inquires who so melodious grieves ? The enchanted echoes make their faint replies, Wafting with reverent lips the sad refrain ; — happy air ! upon whose bosom lies Such wealth of woe, such purity of pain ! Now, that the body's selfish aims grow less, Now, that the soul's high yearnings prompt the more, When bare, unveiled I see life's littleness, And love appears in garb unknown before, 1 will arise while yet thy dream is mine, My own weak sorrow in oblivion fling — Let me but weep one tear thus near to thine, And sigh my pride out while I hear thee sing! AND OTHER POEMS. 21 TRIOLET. O happiest Verses not in vain You wear the impress of ray heart, Fly back, then, fragile wings again O happiest Verses not in vain, Love wounded you with tender pain And made you sing of passion's smart. O happiest Verses, not in vain You wear the impress of my heart ! 22 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, FALSE WORDS. A POEM. I TELL my heart a thousand times I do not love ! I do not love ! But yet the question racks my brain, With wond'ring, wearisome refrain, Like phantom bells with haunting chimes, Why sigh for one thou dost not love ? How full of torture is the night When sleep withholds the dream of thee Yet when the vivid vision lies Upon my closed, unconscious eyes What grief dawns with the cruel light, So real thy dream-kiss seemed to be! My tutored heart, it acted well ; Thou spak'st of absence, "worlds away,' AND OTHER POEMS. 23 The passionate blood leapt wild beneath, My lips seemed cold — a flame my breath, They knew their part, what words to say ; — I liedj! I lied ! How could'st thou tell ? I lied in saying " it was best," I lied, pretending not to care ; As if no summer time had shed Its blessing on the whispers said One night of June — 'twas Love's despair Thou might'st have known, thou might'st have guessed ! And spring will come with soothing scent, Woven from million violets' eyes, And lovely swaying lilac spears, Unmindful of my lonely tears ; The primrose ope in pale surprise, The thrush grow bold with wonderment. All this will be — all this will pass, Summer and winter, autumn, spring ; 24 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Days decked with sunshine, draped with shade, And nights in varying moons arrayed, With countless stars far shimmering, Thou wilt be "worlds away," alas! This would have been, but had Love heard Those longed-for words. Love could have borne Such absence ; faith's wings soar afar Beyond fate's cold horizon bar, We should have met each night each morn, Till Love had carolled like a bird. Cold absence bleak, this fever-glow Of doubting, hoping, will be past — Each day will dawn in grey the same, And die in drear, grand skies of flame, As if to prove how wide, how vast The heav'ns above, the earth below ! Thou wilt not know how lips can sigh Which said those foolish words unmoved, Nor guess the burning tears that rise To such unfeeling, smiling eyes ; AND OTHER POEMS. 25 Thou wilt not know how thou art loved, What passion yearns to have thee nigh ! But as my untold love is strong, As fruitless grief is vainly weak, The human hope may grow divine By lying lowly at Love's shrine ; The truth too great, too sweet to speak, May bless the heart that did it wrong ! 26 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, DOTH SLEEP MOCK LOVE ? RONDEL. Doth Sleep mock Love when midnight breezes blend With silent shadows by the moonbeams cast ? When the earth's limits, ev'n from end to end, Seem knit together, distance dead at last ? Around our souls a dream of bliss is wove — Doth Sleep mock Love ? Not this poor brain's imaginings, ah, no ! I had not reached heav'n's pinnacle so soon, Nor won such real ecstatic rapture so. Endymion, dreaming mingled with the moon, Ask of the stars, among whose smiles ye move, Doth Sleep mock Love ? Doth Sleep mock Love, whom Fate wounds sore with fears? Can she dissemble passion's voice so well ? AND OTHER POEMS. 27 And feign the royal robe Love only wears ? I care not sweetest lips though lies ye tell ! I will not know ! I do not dare to prove, If Sleep mock Love ! 28 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, A SONG OF SPRING. The thrush has a pean to sing, The lilacs are bending to hear, 'Tis the same old, old message of Spring, They find it still new, still dear, So the thrush is contented to sing And the lilacs are bending to hear. Tinted eggs are the pride of the nest, Tinted blossoms the pride of the tree, But the pride of the heart unconfess't In silence still hidden must be ; While the thrush sings of hope in the nest And the lilacs boast joy on the tree. O ! Love has a pean to sing, But who is there list'ning to hear ? While the day dreaming, deepen in Spring, And Spring fades away in the year. O ! Love, be contented to sing, For some hidden violet may hear ! AND OTHER POEMS. 29 A BALLAD OF APRIL. Dark April clouds, O pass away ! What mischief are ye brewing ? Across the sky dark shades ye lay Which will be love's undoing ; With skies so sullen, cold and grey, What lover would go wooing. ! April sun, why glory hide, As if afraid of shining ? When golden robes with joyful pride For love you should be lining, And wreaths of flowers, in love-knots tied, The sunbeams should be twining. VARIANT. Sweet April clouds ! Pass ye or stay, No harm ye can be brewing Since love heeds not the shades ye lay, Nor recks what suns are doing; If skies be blue or sullen grey My lover yet comes wooing ! 30 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, SOMETIMES. Sometimes by a sunbeam's sudden shimmer, Sometimes in the shadow of a cloud, Sometimes 'mid the twilight's tender glimmer, I have seen Love pale and proud. Sometimes tears upon his lashes, Sometimes grief within his breast ; Sometimes smile on smile outflashes — Who shall say which mood is best? Sometimes songs of rapture singing, Sometimes silent, slow of breath ; Sometimes thro' heav'n's azure winging, Sometimes weary unto death ; Sometimes waking, sometimes dreaming, But at all times most divine, For Love's face thro' all this seeming, Is the same Belov'd as thine ! AND OTHER POEMS. 31 AN OCEAN FANCY. Out of the coral caves under the sea, The mermaids peeped half dreamily, Dazzled awhile by the moon, whose sighs Had shaken their souls, and opened their eyes, And by her gleams Destroyed their dreams ; Under the waves, in the coral caves, The mermaids woke and sang: to me A sweet and thrilling melody ! " O ! mortal eyes, where sorrow lies, Because the world is full of pain, We know your tears are harbingers Of Love, and so are never vain; But Ave are here such grief to cheer So fling away that humid veil, Arise ! Arise ! Upon the skies 32 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, The moon has drawn a silver trail, And we must guide The flowing tide Which swoons beneath that vision pale ! "Come see our bow'rs, the ocean flow'rs Have woven charms to bind the hours, There thou shalt sleep, and we will keep A watch against all evil pow'rs ; Or would'st thou wake, the air shall break Into a thousand melodies, While mem'ries meet of all things sweet Soothed by delicious harmonies/' Ah! my soul was enthralled by a charm so vast, I felt heav'n had dawned over earth at last I cared not for life, I cared not for death, While that tender song yearned to me so from beneath. What mattered the fold Of the water's cold ? AND OTHER POEMS. Were they not bearing my soul afar To that pearl-paved deep Where the breezes sleep And the weary and wounded wavelets are ? " Away ! away ! O'er the starlit bay Our clinging, shadowy bodies sway ; Dost feel the bliss of the ocean's kiss, As its glittering foain-drops round thee play ? List, oh list ! for athwart the mist The moon has bound on the night's dark brow, Strange spirits sing of many a thing Whereof thou could'st not know till now." So we passed by Horizon's mystical gate, Which none may pass till unbarr'd by fate, In the darkling depths it looked dark and grim But I found it was only the silver rim Of a halo that shines 'twixt heaven and earth To proclaim when a royal wave has birth. And there the kisses garnered lie That pass between the sea and sky, c 34 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Whereby the 'witching moon doth make Her charms to keep the stars awake. They bore me thence To the low cadence The amorous waters chanted low Of a passion no human heart may know. Then we threaded a labyrinthian way 'Twixt sands that in golden masses lay, Till we came to the realms of the drowned Dead 'Neath a network of seaweed canopied ; O ! never a sound Broke their rest profound, But trembling bubbles light and soft On wings of azure soar aloft To fetch fair dreams from Paradise For those pale Dreamers' closed eyes O ! there they rest contentedly Beneath the bosom of the sea, While tempests rage and great ships ride Above them on the swelling tide Serenely calm and satisfied ! AND OTHER POEMS. 35 " Come follow, follow, such thoughts are hollow, While winds abound the waves must swallow Human hearts and human gains, Leave thou them and their remains. But a scene of revelry in our bow'rs thou shalt see, There are poets and their fancies Brightening all things with their glances, Lovers' whispers there have breath Tho' love's lips are cold in death. We will teach thee subtle charms Woven 'mid the storm's alarms Whereby power of all have we 'Neath the bosom of the sea ! "Lo! within a crystal casket Lies thy heart's desire — ask it, Ope thy treasure and unmask it, Till adown the veiled spheres Visions dawn of future years ; Thou shalt learn bewitchingly As ourselves to sin^ and siffh : 36 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Also every subtle use Of the wave's prismatic hues. O ! the swaying of the flowers, O ! the rapture of the hours Spent within our happy bowers ! " But the morning dawns o'er the smiling bay, And kisses its tender dreams away, Yes, kisses the same unconscious lips Which the moon has pressed; see, she pallid slips, A lovelorn thing, 'neath a pitying cloud. O ! trust not thou To a mermaid's vow, They mock thee with rippling laughter loud! They have no bow'rs, Their vaunted pow'rs Vanish before these sunbeam showers. Yet, who shall say that Ocean mirth Is falser than the joy of earth ? AND OTIIER POEMS. 37 IT WAS YOUR NAME ! RONDEL. It was your name which, when song's pinions tired, Refreshed their drooping weariness and fired With sweet new strength their weakness, till in flame Up leapt the passionate utterance love desired, And hope once more in tender semblance came, It was your name ! It was your name that made me understand The yearning message the sea flings the sand, And the soft blush that decks the rose with shame When suddenly the sunshine clasps the land; And why with the moon's kiss the clouds grow tame — It was your name ! The glacier's icy heart doth proudly flow In happy tears since the sun will it so 38 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, So for a sweeter reason, yet the same, My soul's desire set free doth heavenward go, Till love's blest lips in tender tones proclaim, It was your name ! AND OTHER POEMS. 39 A FRAGMENT. I weep a happy shower of tears Because love overflows my soul ; A rainbow circles heav'n's spheres And crowns its sweetest goal ! Diviner than the royal hue Which wraps the dawn in orient skies, This sombre tinted cloud, this dew Of love that dims my eyes. More eloquent than words, no song Of mine shall dare to thrill love's lute, Weeping for joy, heav'n's heights among, I marvel and am mute ! 40 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, MORNING AND NIGHT. A COMPARISON. The sweet day rose in beauty so serene I laid upon its wings my heart's desire ; No shade of doubt could hover in between, It seemed an altar lit with sacred fire, A song upon a lyre ! The sad day set, a red glow 'mid deep gloom, I laid on its bruised wings my heart's despair ; And all the west was awful as a tomb, An altar, desecrated, lonely, bare, A wild unanswered prayer! AND OTHER POEMS. H IF LOVE BE LIKE A ROSE. If love be like a rose in beauty's pride, If the sweet fragrance of a rose can be Compared to the desire love's pinions hide, Lest eyes profane should mock that mystery, Then tell me where love's faded petal goes If truly she be likened to a rose ? The withered rose leaves all unheeded lie, Made foul with mould, upon the earth's cold breast, Till the wind whirls them as he passes by, Treating their bygone splendour as a jest; Somewhere perchance a wind as idly blows Forgotten loves which once bloomed like a rose ? Just as they are, however stained with grief, With scarce a trace to mark they once were fair ; Just as it is, find me one pain-seared leaf, Within my heart a tomb lies ready, there It shall obtain the long deserved repose ; Find me one petal of love's faded rose ! 42 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, I should not fear the royal hue grown pale, I should not miss the perfume long since shed, When first its tender heart began to fail, A thousand-fold more precious now 'tis dead, Around it still some glory clings, who knows It may be sweeter than the fair, false rose! Ah, no ! the heart knows better, and must speak, It is the nature of the rose to die, And so we prove the simile most weak For love should live for ever, that is why, Altho' the world be searched, no garden close Guards love's dead sweet, tho' fragile as a rose! AND OTHER POEMS. 43 TRIOLET. A SONG of hope loud sings the wind Adown the skies fast flying — " Spring's golden tresses I unbind ! " A song of hope loud sings the wind While breezes whisper soft behind, " Cold winter is a-dying ! " A song of hope loud sings the wind, Adown the skies fast flying ! 44 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, SONNETS. DESIRE UNATTAINED. Is love all powerful ? ah ! then in sighs Why dost thou, heart, these precious hours spend ? Why must the day in gloomy darkness end, And leave thee still out-barr'd from Paradise ? No answering words to thy entreaties rise, And the sad echo, tho' it seem a friend, Is powerless one wild regret to mend ; Thou can'st not conjure up those absent eyes ! Nay, love is weak, or thou had'st had thy fill Of sure delight, which art with love so stored, And one low prayer had given thee back again That fair desire, which all prayers ask in vain ; Oh ! love is weak, his pinions never soared, Since fate he fears, and hope he cannot kill ! AND DTI IKK POEMS. 45 II. What is there in the universe above That can compare with this my love for thee ? Not the stars' yearning eyes, which draw the sea, A s on its heaving breast their shadows rove ; Nor yet the mighty winds, which only move When some strange impulse prompts them to fly free — But ever yearning, strong perpetually Is the absorbing greatness of my love ! And what then in the sorrowing earth beneath Is liken to it ? The volcanic fire That rends a mountain's beauteous crest in twain ? Or some slight flow'r that seeks the sun in vain ? Look ! and in both, oh ! Heart of my desire, Thou shalt find something of love's trembling breath ! in. Like some seabird that pauses in mid-flight Among the waves and far off spies the shore 46 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Swelling a beauteous landscape bathed in light, And longs for peace, a want unknown before, Growing weary of the waters' restless might, The seething foam and everlasting roar ; Even his boundless freedom at that sight Becomes a bond, since there he may not soar. So, faint with yearning, have I far off seen The fair sweet line of my desire lie Beyond the utmost limit of my love, With all the world's unquiet ways between, — And wept to know, howe'er my soul's wings fly, Yet in that blessed land they cannot rove ! AND OTHER POEMS. 47 TO A NIGHTINGALE. ! nightingale, that singest out of sight, On some scent-laden bush, thy heart's desire, Till the dark bosom of the list'ning night Swells with the kindling of a passionate fire, Reveal to me if love should weep or sing, If like yon rose, my heart may yet unveil The sweet that lies, a lovely hidden thing, Within my breast, like hers in petals pale ? I may not soar like thee thro' midnight skies, I dare not whisper even to a breeze The glory of my hope, lest it prove shame — Ah ! ere the morning spread her wings of flame, Give me some token, love's sad doubt to ease, Sing me some message 'mong those inelodies! 48 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, A LONELY POPPY. There was a lonely poppy, hidden deep Among the golden spears of ripening corn, An outcast from their love, since lowlier born ; While the glad earth a carnival did keep She blood-red petals shed, her tears, so weep The sorrowing flow'rs ; then patiently, forlorn Waited in eager grief for each new morn Till harvest time should bring some hand to reap. Oh, foolish poppy! Had'st thou raised awhile Thy drooping head, rich blessing had'st thou known ; Since slantwise, thro' the swaying of the wheat, The moon gazed at thee oft, with pitying smile ; And tenderly the dew's lips sought thy own Finding thy lonely beauty very sweet ! AND OTHEB POEMS. 41) A THUNDERSTORM ; OR, SATAN'S FALL. Adown Infinity God's sentence rolled, Dooming for ever Lucifer the proud, Till all creation heard it uttered loud, And planet unto planet echoing told. Then from the wondrous depths and manifold Which wrapt God's throne, the bright Shekinah cloud, With serpent gleaming eyes and head low bowed, The Prince of Darkness fell, like liquid gold. And as the splendour of a lightning flash, Losing itself amid the yawning night, Is followed by the thunder's mighty crash, So to unfathomed depths from that pure height He disappeared ; when a triumphant cry Burst like the thunder, down Infinity ! D 50 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, THY LOVE AND MINE. Thy love and mine, what are they like ? even this, To cold clear moonlight, beautiful and grand, That sees the restless waves leap up to kiss The silent, shadowy outline of the sand ; Such is thy love, a radiance great and sweet Wrapping my heart, which yet must fret beneath, Because I may not know how thine doth beat, I cannot feel if passion sway thy breath. Come closer, my Belov'd, who art so far, I can no longer bear fate's cruel test ; Let some convulsion blend the moon and star, That pulse with pulse may meet, and be at rest. Then kiss me, till I die upon thy breast : Thy love and mine, how different they are ! AND OTHER POEMS. 51 THE ELM TREE AND TOOL. There is a meadow where an elm tree grows Shadowing a pool, so close beneath she lies The lightest breeze that thro' his branches sighs, Ruffling the glossy leaves, reflected shows In those clear depths, where love's own shades repose. And sometimes glimpses of the summer skies The jealous boughs let thro', then her dark eyes Flash azure, while the glimmering emerald glows. Ah! tender pool, most surely it is well To mirror pleasant truths, but what shall chance When all that grace is shorn by winter's breath ? Wilt thou have courage still the truth to tell ? Darest thou answer love's inquiring glance With fearless gaze, where passion swoons in death ? 52 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, REJECTED. The weird wild beauty of a highland glen A passionate mountain torrent breaks apart, Seeming to mock Love's patient, broken heart, A parallel 'tween nature and 'tween men. Scattered around great heaps of silent stone, Whereon the stains of many a cycle lie, Unheeding purple hills and thou and I, And Love, whose presence thou perceived alone. Who would not weep, rememb'ring, bitter tears For so much solitude and sorrowing sweet ? My haunted heart that rushing torrent hears, And echoes it with ev'ry restless beat ; But Love, whose glory circumvents the years, Perchance this grief shall make his crown complete ? AND OTHER POEMS. 53 MONOTONY. Each day with swelling heart, O ! mighty sea, Thou clingest to the shore, then with one stride Leavest her lonely in thy ebbing tide. Does she not tire of thy inconstancy ? Each night, pale moon, adown Infinity Thou glidest like a fair and mournful bride, Bereft of hope, with only love to guide. Art not thou heartsick with monotony ? We who lose something of our life each hour, And know not what each dawning day may bring, Yet languish at this strong resistless pow'r, Waiting and yearning for some newer thing, We know so well that winter kills the flow'r Which summer cherished as the child of spring ! 54 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER. THE LEGEND OF THE OLIVE TREES. O ! TENDER, quivering Olive, was it fear That blanched thy emerald colour softly green And shed instead this silver pallid sheen, Or sorrow, for the stricken Godhead near ? The legend runneth, — in the moonlight clear, On that dread night of agony divine, Grief overcame that saddened heart of thine, Till in the silence fell a glittering tear ! Then wept the stars, with all their million eyes, Then trembled the hard earth, while the wind's breath Went moaning with the bitterness of death, And all the angels sighed in Paradise ; Yet stars shine bright, and earth is calm, but thou Showest thy grief in steadfast pallor now! AND OTHER POEMS. .~,. r , WHAT'S IN A NAME ? What's in a name ? Just this, that when I hear Thine spoken Love wildly my heart doth beat Because our very spirits seem to meet Within the mem'ries which do then appear. As if to wipe away all foolish fear, A moonbeam did a tender flower greet, Nestling itself among the perfume sweet, Soothing the dewy sorrow lying there. A gentle breeze, that fanneth into flame A fire that burns concealed ; a rosy wreath Which crowns the yearning brow of poesy, A reason for my heart's humanity, A love that lives without a fear of death, All this, Belov'd, I find within thy name ! 56 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, LOVE'S PLAY. ANACREONTIC. LOVE came to me one summer's day And prick'd me with his dart in play, Two rose leaves on my eyes he laid, Bewild'ring them with scented shade, While silently a chain he wove About my soul, the Tyrant, Love! But I was happy as his slave Such royal gifts to me he gave ; By day a gold bowl of delight, And ah! such glorious dreams by night. Heav'n seemed around me, not above- He stole my soul, the Charmer, Love ! And it was still a summer's day When he grew weary of his play, So took the rose leaves from my eyes, Revealing then a world of sighs ; And left my wounded heart to prove — How cruel is the Deceiver, Love! AND OTHER POEMS. 57 A SIGH! Ah ! happy moon ! to so serenely gaze Whene'er thou wilt upon thy love the earth, For thou can'st dream away the summer days In yon blue vault, till silent night gave birtli To that sweet dark which marks for thee love's ways. Scarce wonder then that thou can'st be so calm, So sure of love, so beautiful and pale, The midnight breezes weave for thee a charm Whose subtle power was never known to fail, While starry shadows soothe all vague alarm. Yet could I, like thee, know, my yearning eyes Should surely see each eve my heart's desire, More eagerly I'd seek to climb the skies, More passionately the stars should swing their fire! But thou art patient, peaceful, strangely wise ! 58 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, The soft wing'd nights glide swiftly into days, And many a time thy dreaming eyes awake To smile on realised hopes ; when shall mine gaze On that dear face for which they saddening ache ? Ah ! pitying moon, prepare for love those ways ! AND OTHER POEMS. 59 THE OTHER SIDE OF HEAVEN. Beyond the sun's light shedding eyes, Or shade of myriad lesser spheres, The other side of Heaven lies, Unruled by fate, undiramed by tears. My fancy bade me enter there, My love lent wings, and speed my grief, My scorn a warning gave, " Beware ! Of dreams which promise such relief." Across an azure sea of space Whose waves seemed clouds of jewelled foam I passed, where panting vapours trace The starry pathway to their home. Short-sighted race of struggling men Whose life and love seem slaves to fate, How vast, how free is Heaven when Contrasted with your little state ! 60 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Such majesty of silence clasps Those dim recesses of the sky, No lightning flares, no thunder gasps, No roaring tempests climb as high. Yet each soul yearns for its own heaven, Each builds, is its own architect, And death the puny plans has given To God, to sanction or reject. I would believe we may attain Our ideals, marvellously wrought And changed, made perfect art, where pain Withdraws its cruel hold on thought. I must believe the seeds of love Which flourish 'mid disease and death, Whose presence these our bodies prove With every breath, the heart is worth ; I must believe no grain is lost, That each will grow a perfect flow'r; AND OTHER POEMS. 61 O ! guard it well, despise the cost, Though Time and Fate unite their pow'r ! The other side of Heaven ? Let be These faithless fears ; my heart's Belov'd I turn from selfish peace to thee And rove the earth, where thou hast roved ! 62 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, RONDELS. 'TWAS NOT IN VAIN ! 'Twas not in vain ye bloomed, ungathered rose, Though no fond eye thy tender beauty knows, Nor eager lips those fragrant leaves caress; Have the winds failed to woo and love thee less ? Nay, wafted on the air thy sweets have lain, 'Twas not in vain ! Nothing is useless here, however slight, A slender dewdrop on a mountain's height That glistens but a moment in the sun, Crowned in gold, some secret good hath done, Unknown may be, but to the earth's breast gain, 'Twas not in vain ! 'Twas not in vain we loved, tho' many tears Have dimmed our yearning eyes, tho' many years Have drifted cruelly down Time's vast sea And striven to drown that one sweet memory; Live it once more, and say with passionate pain 'Twas not in vain ! AND OTHER POEMS. C3 GOOD-BYE, A LONG GOOD-BYE! Good-bye, a long good-bye to love, And all love's dreams which facts disprove, Silence the lyre once his, let be That fair false form of minstrelsy, Till on the air the echoes die, Good-bye, a long good-bye! ! mountains steep, which once seemed rough To part love's ways, scarce wide enough 1 fear the world is for love's pain, — We find the same sweet path again Where once we sang, where now we sigh, Good-bye, a long good-bye ! Good-bye, a long good-bye to fears Now realised by these sad tears, Good-bye, beloved lips, still sweet To me in spite of fate's deceit; Mine sigh in silent agony, Good-bye, a long good-bye ! 64 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, LOVE STOOPED AND SAID. Love stooped and said to yon complaining rose Some sweet low word, for see her trouble eoes Fading in perfumed sighs upon the air, Swaying a sunbeam's wings that rested there; What was the charm, making her blush so red, Love stooped and said ? Restless with grief, my heart breathed forth a song Which far away the mocking echoes flung; But one in pity heard that trembling strain, Those passionate notes were not sent forth in vain ; A word that made grief's chant joy's psalm instead— Love stooped and said ! Than all the summer's store more wealth, oh! rose, Have we, since that divinest secret grows AND OTHER POEMS. 65 More beauteous in our hearts than all things fair ; Sweet, like the hope fulfilled crowning a prayer, That subtle word, leaving us comforted — Love stooped and said ! E 66 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, DELAY NOT SWEET! Delay not Sweet, the wide world's breadth apart, Twice has the crescent moon become a sphere, And autumn's lips are kissing dead the year Which, smiling, swoons contented, but my heart Sighs ev'ry time its passionate pulses beat — Delay not Sweet ! What use the sunlight shimmering on the sea, Or lang'rous lily perfumes lightly borne Upon a zephyr's wings ? When thus forlorn The joys of nature bring no joy to me Each hastening hour I pray to fly more fleet — Delay not Sweet ! Delay not Sweet, for troubles come apace, Each day some tint of life's fair rose expires, And doubt destroys the dream that love desires ; Ah ! cleave these cruel leagues of sterile space Where pitying echoes murmur as they meet — Delay not Sweet ! AND OTHER POEMS. 67 THE FLIGHT OF THE MUSE. Far off and far away my fair Muse flies, She will not linger, tho' I whisper " Stay ! " Leaving behind her roseate, radiant skies, Bright with Love's dawn of possibilities; High heavens I may not reach bereft of wings, Great joys I cannot hymn without her aid, She flies far off, away ! For the Nine Maidens will not brook these things, To worship other idols near their shrines, But ah ! I lingered by Love's altar close, And swooned amid the perfumed incense there, I prayed to Love, a fervent, yearning prayer, And at the dawning of the new sweet day — My Muse flew far away! Thus silent, soul entranced, I watching see Sweet dreams unfurled, which like clouds dew be- pearled Flash whiter than the young moon's purity, When first it meets the love gaze of the world ; 68 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Silent, with lips and voice that cannot bear The burthen of such passionate delight ; Yet happier than all stars within the sky, Swelling with song the spheres would weep to hear, This heart of mine, from which my Muse took flight Because, Belov'd, thy Love's wings hovered near! Come closer, then, until I see no sight Beyond their all embracing tender shade, Upon their strength my weakness let me lay ; Then, thro' the boundless blue of Heaven's arcade Let us fly far away ! AND OTHER fOEMS. 69 WHEN THOU ART GONE! When thou art gone, " what shall I do ? " When thou art gone, I shall not be ; These eyes, these lips that love you so May seem still to be part of me, My heart will be as dead as stone When thou art gone ! What could I do ? Live in the past, Show to the mocking world my pain ? Proving how much to me thou wast, Revealing love can be in vain ; Howe'er I grieve, I grieve alone W T hen thou art gone. When thou art gone ! there rings love's knell, There breathes the last sigh of my heart In one wild pitiful farewell — It cleaves pale passionate lips apart. " What will love do ? " Love is undone — When thou art gone ! 70 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, ODE TO MEMORY. Like balmy ripples of an azure tide That smile all day around a far-off shore, And nearer, ever nearer, fain would glide, But still remain as distant as before, Sweet Mem'ry seems, when wafted on her wings Some mystic odour of the past she brings. Or like a wandering star that sails unloosed From the safe anchorage of peaceful heav'n To kiss earth's throbbing breast, where love is used With thankful eyes to watch the deep'ning even ; O ! meteor flashing through divinest tears ! ! glory hallowing the pale, dead years ! And is there then no mem'ry in the tomb ? No polished mirror where the poor Dead see Amid that drear, predominating gloom The radiant vision of what used to be ? A vision purified from sin and pain, Proving not all their feverish life was vain. AND OTHER POEMS. 71 Ah ! if there be none such, pale, peaceful Dead I do not envy you your awful calm ; Better to live with ghosts of glories fled, Better to breathe in restless vague alarm Than lie unmated in so dull a rest — Without one secret yearning in the breast. Like balmy ripples of an azure tide, Around my soul for ever sweetly lave Divinest Memory ! Nor let time's chasm wide Prevent the charm of thy delicious wave; Still shine a guiding star thro' sorrow's night, Gilding the faded past with magic light ! 72 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, TRIOLET. I have seen love's ej^es to-day, So my heart be satisfied; Faithless doubts, pass away ! I have seen love's eyes to-day, Every pulse has felt the sway Of a passion glorified ! I have seen love's eyes to-day, So rav heart be satisfied ! AND OTHER POEMS. 73 IF ALL BE WELL. If all be well, and fate at last hath blest My yearning life with your sweet love, then lest Some wand'ring echo of the world should break My soul's content, be silent for love's sake ; So let heav'n fling a challenge unto hell — If all be well ! Since beauty seems more beautiful when lit By some soft light that half o'ershadows it, As in the inmost heart of the great sea No ripple moves, no lightest breeze can be ; So let love by a passionate silence tell — If all be well ! 74 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, CUPID'S CASKET. Ah ! what have j^ou in your casket, little Cupid, Little Cupid brought for me, That your azure pinions quiver With the weight thereof, sweet 'giver Of hid treasure, dare I ask it In love's sacred name to see ? '• In my casket I have lying For the roses' hearts more scent, And a new song for the linnet, That is all, I think, that's in it Save a mortal's heart, whose sighing Seems a breeze of discontent. " All the song and scent's bespoken, Will the sighing do as well ? " AND OTHER POEMS. 75 Oh have pity, little Cupid ! Are you cruel, or but stupid, For love asks no sweeter token Than that sighing heart doth tell! 76 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE AN ODE TO THE DAWN. Unto the dawn an ode to write Perchance an easy task 'twould be, But to the Dawn that woke that night, Unveiled love's dreaming eyes to see, Ask not of me ! Ah Sweet! the boldest nightingale Could scarce attempt to sing that strain; His passionate heart would panting fail Ere love's high keynote he could gain, Where joy clasps pain. Beyond the heav'n, where stars are born, My song's slight wings would have to fly Ere I could hymn that perfect Dawn. Love's lips are dumb with ecstasy, And so am I ! AND OTHER POEMS. 77 HOW IS LOVE BLEST ? Love, with a wound at heart, Love, by a fear opprest, Love, a world's breadth apart, How is Love blest ? Love, with her lips struck dumb, Love, made by Fate a jest, Weeping, unkissed, grief-numb, How is Love blest ? By that same wound intense, Salved by a mem'ry sweet, By the world's vapour dense, Severing to meet ; By those same lips whose song Thrills where no discords beat, Heav'n's highest strains among, Love doth compete ! 78 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, Love, by a cross recrowned, Love, by a doubt truth guess't, Love, by a world disowned, Built her own nest; Love, with lips pure to kiss, Flings back to death, Fate's jest ; Love is divine — by this Love makes Love blest ! AND OTHER POEMS. 79 A GOOD-BYE. Half the world dies in this good-bye ; then wait One moment more while I take tearful leave Of all old treasures garnered in by fate, Of sad sweet roses scattered in our way And clinging tendrils of that vine which weave A halo round the grapes we crush to-day ! Half only dies, would that the whole world gasped Its soul out thro' my breath ; but thou hast left A remnant yet within my cold hands clasped, A kiss upon my lips still rests congealed ; 'Twere better far to be of all bereft With sightless eyes forgetfulness had sealed! Crimson, the glory of departing day, Crimson, the sweetness in red poppies slain, Crimson, the warrior's gory-tracked way ; Why then should thou and I be yet so pale While 'neath our breasts lies bleeding fast the stain Crimson with grief and shame of loves that fail ! 80 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, We cannot tell, " good-bye " is ever decked With pallor, that love only understands ; The too frail frigate of delight lies wrecked By boisterous winds which life's destruction weave. The moment Sweet is o'er, on fate's dark sands Pass by, while I amid the wreckage grieve ! AND OTHER POEMS. 81 RONDEL IN MONO-RHYME. Could I believe, could I believe The soul's high hopes did not deceive Some long-yearned good I might achieve, Could I believe ! Could I believe, could I believe That sorrow might past wrong retrieve, Then sighs of grief my breast should heave, Could I believe ! Could I believe, could I believe Desire, reward may yet receive, What tender visions faith should weave, Could I believe ! Could I believe, could I believe Thy love were mine, death might bereave, Grant passion but one short reprieve, I should not fear, I should not grieve, Could I believe ! F 82 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, LOVE'S HEIGHT. Oh let us rest here ! We have climbed enough Beyond the world into this love-girt land, There far below in atmospheric mist Lie the great mountains, rugged, steep, and rough, And there the sun illumines with a band Of flame the happy height where first we kissed. Wilt thou not rest here ? To go higher still I dare not, we should touch yon pale-faced moon^; The glistening stars would fright me with their gaze, The breeze that flieth past them is too chill; See, even now the ether makes me swoon, And thou art drifting from me 'mid the haze ! Rest here for ever, this alone is sweet To be together, fold me to thy breast, Perchance God looking down Eternity Will sutler us to lie here neath His feet, AND OTHER POEMS. 88 Will see our joy, and pitying say " 'Tis best, Love is the heaven of humanity ! " Yet no, we may not stay, we must return With night's deep shadows to the earth again ; T will not risk to disillusion all By a false flight ; the eagle does not spurn The lowly valley — 'tis the lesser pain To leave heav'n guiltless than to sin and fall. One more embrace, merge all thy tenderness Within thy lips, mirror me in thy eyes; Ah ! how this vapour blinds me from thy sight ; My heart beats faintly for great bitterness. Dear! 'tis enough, tho' knowing Paradise, We could not breathe on Love's sublimest height ! 84 THE- VISION OF A BEGINNER, LOVE'S WAY IS BEST! RONDEL. Love's way is best, tho' we find him sleeping With a rose for his pillow, his lyre unstrung. Chide him not, lest suddenly swift upleaping He trample the rose, leave his songs unsung; Though Faith find patience an irksome test, Love's way is best! Far o'er the hills, where the mist is wreathing A silver shroud for the dying day, He may frightened fly, should he hear us breathing One sigh too deep for this long delay. Though the shadows deepen toward the west, Love's way is best ! Love's way is best, tho' he never waken, Leave the dream divine 'neath those veiled eyes ; Tho' the heart rebel, as a thing forsaken, Tho' we cannot grasp sucli mysteries, Oh, yearning soul ! oh, passionate breast ! Love's way is best ! AND OTHER POEMS. 85 REVERIE ON A DEAD YEAR. There came last night a sound of symphonies, Borne on the frail wings of an infant wind, The voices of the dead Year's memories. My heart had built a bridge toward my mind, A tender structure whereon these might rest; And roses round their brows were yet entwined. As gently sink the sunbeams in the west On some midsummer's eve, most loth to sleep Since the earth's fragrance on their lips has prest A kiss whose strength can climb ev'n heav'n's steep ; — So, ling'ringly, those subtle strains did move Around my soul O mystery more deep Than flaming planets in the skies above ! Make yet divine these happy human tears, A heart's pure offering, at thy shrine, Love ! 86 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, No summer ever smiled in other years, No winter yet was crowned with snow so pure As these, whose glory shall not disappear, But beyond Time and Fate they shall endure, Immortal memories, heed no year's death! Sing still your peans, comfort, reassure The faltering echoes of Love's passionate breath, Till, drenched with beauty, the new year doth wake To greet not earth, but heav'n, above, beneath ! AND OTHER POEMS. 87 LOVE HEEDS NOT TIME! RONDEL. " Love heeds not time," the foolish rose breathed low When ere her season she began to blow, Woo'd by the amorous breezes of the Spring, Beguiled by the glad look of everything, The gold-bell'd crocus mocked with echoing chime, " Love heeds not time ! " Ah ! eager rose, far better 'twere to wait, E'en though the Summer make her coming late ; 'Tis true the first kiss of the sun you get, The pearliest drops of dew your petals wet, But soon that dew shall weep, congealed with rime, " Love heeds not time ! " There is no pity for her, no redress ; The cruel frost wrecks all that loveliness ! 88 THE VISION OF A BEGINNER, AND OTHER POEMS. So, sun forsaken, and betrayed she dies, With crystal sorrow frozen in her eyes ; Yet faithful gasps, with her last breath sublime, " Love heeds not time ! " London : Digby, Long & Co., Publish era, 18 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, E.C. 18 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, London, E.C. 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