-1 *> 
 
 ^ ^
 
 POEMS
 
 POEMS 
 
 STEPHEN PHILLIPS 
 
 JOHN LANE: THE BODLEY HEAD 
 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK. 
 1898
 
 Copyright, 1807, 
 BY JOHN LANE. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 Seventh Edition
 
 StacR 
 Annex 
 
 5110 
 AZ 
 
 To MAY
 
 NOTE 
 
 THE poem, " Christ in Hades," with the accompanying 
 lyrics, which originally appeared in Mr. Elkin Mathews' 
 Shilling Garland, is included in the present volume. No 
 further copies of the poem in its original form will be 
 printed.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 FACE 
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL .... I 
 
 MARPESSA 8 
 
 THE WIFE 30 
 
 FACES AT A FIRE 39 
 
 THE LILY 41 
 
 TO MILTON, BLIND 43 
 
 LAZARUS 45 
 
 FAITH 48 
 
 BY THE SEA 50 
 
 A.S.P. . . 53 
 
 THE QUESTION 55 
 
 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 58 
 
 THE PRISONER 63 
 
 THE WOUND 65 
 
 THE NEW " DE PROFUNDIS " 67 
 
 THE APPARITION 70 
 
 LYRICS 77 
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 84 
 
 vii
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 
 
 ALLURED by the disastrous tavern-light 
 Unhappy things flew in out of the night ; 
 And ever the sad human swarm returned, 
 Some crazy-fluttering, and some half-burned. 
 Among the labourers, gnarled, and splashed 
 
 with mire, 
 
 The disillusioned women sipping fire, 
 Slow tasting bargainers amid the flare, 
 And lurid ruminators, I was 'ware 
 Of that cold face from which I may not run, 
 Which even now doth stab me in the sun. 
 That face was of a woman that alone 
 Sat sewing ; a white liquor by her shone ;
 
 2 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 
 
 From which at moments warily and slow 
 
 She sipped; then bent above her sewing low. 
 
 A sober dress of decent serge she wore 
 
 Uplifted nicely from the smirching floor ; 
 
 And with a bunch of grapes her hat was 
 crowned, 
 
 Which trembled together if she glanced around. 
 
 Speckless, arranged ; and with no braid awry, 
 
 All smoothed and combed she sewed inces- 
 santly. 
 
 She turned her eyes on me ; they had no ray ; 
 
 But stared like windows in the peer of day. 
 
 So cold her gaze that I bowed down my head 
 
 Trembling; it seemed to me that she was 
 
 \ 
 dead; 
 
 And that those hands mechanically went, 
 
 As though the original force not yet was spent.
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 3 
 
 You that have wailed above the quiet clay, 
 That on the pillow without stirring lay ; 
 Yet think how I stood mourning by the side 
 Of her who sat, but seemed as she had died ; 
 Cold, yet so busy ; though so nimble, dead ; 
 Whose fingers ever at the sewing sped. 
 I spoke with her, and in slow terror guessed 
 How she, so ready for perpetual rest, 
 So smoothly combed and for the ground pre- 
 pared, 
 
 Whose eyes already fixed beyond me stared, 
 Could sidle unobserved and safely glide 
 Amid the crowd that wist not she had died. 
 Gently she spoke; not once her cheek grew 
 
 pale 
 
 And I translate the dreadful placid tale. 
 She with a soul was born : she felt it leap
 
 4 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 
 
 Within her : it could wonder, laugh, and weep. 
 But dismally as rain on ocean blear, 
 The days upon that human spirit dear 
 Fell ; and existence lean, in sky dead-grey, 
 Withholding steadily, starved it away : 
 London ignored it with deliberate stare, 
 Until the delicate thing began to wear. 
 She felt it ailing for she knew not what ; 
 Feebly she wept ; but she could aid it not. 
 Ah, not the stirring child within the womb 
 Hath such an urgent need of light and room ! 
 Then hungry grew her soul : she looked around, 
 But nothing to allay that famine found ; 
 She felt it die a little every day, 
 Flutter less wildly, and more feebly pray. 
 Stiller it grew ; at times she felt it pull 
 Imploring thinly something beautiful,
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 5 
 
 And in the night was painfully awake, 
 And struggled in the darkness till day-break. 
 For not at once ; not without any strife, 
 It died; at times it started back to life, 
 Now at some angel evening after rain, 
 Builded like early Paradise again, 
 Now at some flower, or human face, or sky 
 With silent tremble of infinity, 
 Or at some waft of fields in midnight sweet, 
 Or soul of summer dawn in the dark street 
 Slowly she was aware her soul had died 
 Within her body: for no more it cried, 
 Vexed her no more ; and now monotonous life 
 Easily passed ; she was exempt from strife ; 
 And from her soul was willing to be freed, 
 She could not keep what she could never feed ; 
 And she was well ; above or bliss or care ;
 
 6 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 
 
 Hunger and thirst were her emotions bare. 
 For the great stars consented, and withdrew, 
 And music, and the moon, greenness and dew. 
 Yet for a time more heavily and slow 
 She walked, and indolently worked, as though 
 About with her she could not help but bring 
 Within her busy body the dead thing. 
 When I had heard her tell without one tear 
 What now I have translated, in great fear 
 Toward her I leaned, and "O my sister!" 
 
 cried, 
 
 " My sister ! " but my hand she put aside, 
 Lest I her decent dress might disarray, 
 And so smiled on me that I might not stay. 
 And I remembered that to one long dead 
 I spoke : " No sound shall rouse her now," I 
 
 said,
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE DEAD SOUL 7 
 
 "Not Orpheus touching in that gloom his 
 
 chord, 
 
 Nor even the special whisper that restored 
 Pale Lazarus ; yet will she seem to run, 
 And hurry eager in the noonday sun, 
 Industrious, timed, and kempt; till she at last, 
 Run down, inaccurate, aside is cast." 
 While thus I whispered and in wonder wild 
 Could not unfix my gaze from her, a child 
 Plucked at her dress, and the dead woman 
 
 rose; 
 
 On to the mirror silently she goes, 
 Lightly a loose tress touches at her ear; 
 She gazes in her own eyes without fear. 
 Deliberately then with ringers light 
 She smoothed her dress, and stole into the 
 
 night.
 
 MARPESSA 
 
 Marpessa, being given by Zeus her choice between the god 
 Apollo and Idas a mortal, chose Idas. 
 
 WOUNDED with beauty in the summer night 
 Young Idas tossed upon his couch, and cried 
 " Marpessa, O Marpessa ! " From the dark 
 The floating smell of flowers invisible, 
 The mystic yearning of the garden wet, 
 The moonless-passing night into his brain 
 Wandered, until he rose and outward leaned 
 In the dim summer: 'twas the moment deep 
 When we are conscious of the secret dawn, 
 Amid the darkness that we feel is green. 
 
 To Idas had Marpessa been revealed, 
 8
 
 MARPESSA 9 
 
 Roaming with morning thoughts amid the 
 
 dew, 
 
 All fresh from sleeping; and upon her cheek 
 The bloom of pure repose; like perfect fruit 
 Even at the moment was her beauty ripe. 
 The god Apollo from the heaven of heavens 
 Her mortal sweetness through the air allured; 
 And on this very noon she shall decide 
 Twixt Idas and the god, take to herself 
 A brief or an eternal lover. So 
 When the long day that glideth without cloud, 
 The summer day, was at her blue deep hour 
 Of lilies musical with busy bliss, 
 When very light trembled as with excess, 
 And heat was frail, and every bush and flower 
 Was drooping in the glory overcome ; 
 They three together met; on the one side,
 
 io MARPESSA 
 
 Fresh from diffusing light on all the world 
 
 Apollo; on the other without sleep 
 
 Idas, and in the midst Marpessa stood. 
 
 Just as a flower after drenching rain, 
 
 So from the falling of felicity 
 
 Her human beauty glowed, and it was new ; 
 
 The bee too near her bosom drowsed and 
 
 dropped. 
 
 But as the god sprang to embrace her, they 
 Heard thunder, and a little afterward 
 The far Paternal voice, " Let her decide." 
 And as a flame blown backward by a gust, 
 Burned to and fro in fury beautiful 
 The murmuring god ; but at the last he spoke, 
 And smiled as on his favourite western isle. 
 " Marpessa, though no trouble, nor any pain, 
 So is it willed, can touch me ; but I live
 
 MARPESSA II 
 
 For ever in a deep deliberate bliss, 
 
 A spirit sliding through tranquillity; 
 
 Yet when I saw thee I imagined woe, 
 
 That thou who art so fair, shouldst ever taste 
 
 Of the earth-sorrow : for thy life has been 
 
 The history of a flower in the air, 
 
 Liable but to breezes and to time, 
 
 As rich and purposeless as is the rose: 
 
 Thy simple doom is to be beautiful. 
 
 Thee God created but to grow, not strive, 
 
 And not to suffer, merely to be sweet, 
 
 The favourite of his rains; and thou indeed 
 
 Lately upon the summer wast disclosed. 
 
 Child, wilt thou taste of grief ? On thee the 
 
 hours 
 
 Shall feed, and bring thy soul into the dusk : 
 Even now thy face is hasting to the dark !
 
 12 MARPESSA 
 
 For slowly shalt thou cool to all things great, 
 And wisely smile at love; and thou shalt see 
 Beautiful Faith surrendering to Time, 
 The fierce ingratitude of children loved, 
 Ah, sting of stings! A mourner shalt thou 
 
 stand 
 
 At Passion's funeral in decent garb. 
 The greenly silent and cool-growing night 
 Shall be the time when most thou art awake, 
 With dreary eyes of all illusion cured, 
 Beside that stranger that thy husband is. 
 But if thou'lt live with me, then shalt thou 
 
 bide 
 
 In mere felicity above the world, 
 In peace alive and moving, where to stir 
 Is ecstacy, and thrilling is repose. 
 What is the love of men that women seek it ?
 
 MARPESSA 13 
 
 In its beginning pale with cruelty, 
 But having sipped of beauty, negligent, 
 And full of languor and distaste: for they 
 Seeking that perfect face beyond the world 
 Approach in vision earthly semblances, 
 And touch, and at the shadows flee away. 
 Then wilt thou die? Part with eternal thoughts, 
 Lie without any hope beneath the grass, 
 All thy imaginations in the dust ? 
 And all that tint and melody and breath, 
 Which in their lovely unison are thou, 
 To be dispersed upon the whirling sands ! 
 Thy soul blown seaward on nocturnal blast! 
 O brief and breathing creature, wilt thou cease 
 Once having been ? Thy doom doth make 
 
 thee rich, 
 And the low grave doth make thee exquisite.
 
 14 MARPESSA 
 
 But if thou'lt live with me, then will I kiss 
 Warm immortality into thy lips; 
 And I will carry thee above the world, 
 To share my ecstacy of flinging beams, 
 And scattering without intermission joy. 
 And thou shalt know that first leap of the sea 
 Toward me ; the grateful upward look of earth, 
 Emerging roseate from her bath of dew, 
 We two in heaven dancing, Babylon 
 Shall flash and murmur, and cry from under us, 
 And Nineveh catch fire, and at our feet 
 Be hurled with her inhabitants, and all 
 Adoring Asia kindle and hugely bloom; 
 We two in heaven running, continents 
 Shall lighten, ocean unto ocean flash, 
 And rapidly laugh till all this world is warm. 
 Or since thou art a woman, thou shalt have
 
 MARPESSA 15 
 
 More tender tasks; to steal upon the sea, 
 
 A long expected bliss to tossing men. 
 
 Or build upon the evening sky some wished 
 
 And glorious metropolis of cloud. 
 
 Thou shalt persuade the harvest and bring on 
 
 The deeper green; or silently attend 
 
 The fiery funeral of foliage old, 
 
 Connive with Time serene and the good hours. 
 
 Or, for I know thy heart, a dearer toil, 
 
 To lure into the air a face long sick, 
 
 To gild the brow that from its dead looks up, 
 
 To shine on the unforgiven of this world; 
 
 With slow sweet surgery restore the brain, 
 
 And to dispel shadows and shadowy fear." 
 
 When he had spoken, humbly Idas said : 
 
 " After such argument what can I plead ? 
 
 Or what pale promise make ? Yet since it is
 
 16 MARPESSA 
 
 In women to pity rather than to aspire, 
 A little I will speak. I love thee then 
 Not only for thy body packed with sweet 
 Of all this world, that cup of brimming June, 
 That jar of violet wine set in the air, 
 That palest rose sweet in the night of life; 
 Nor for that stirring bosom all besieged 
 By drowsing lovers, or thy perilous hair ; 
 Nor for that face that might indeed provoke 
 Invasion of old cities ; no, nor all 
 Thy freshness stealing on me like strange 
 
 sleep. 
 
 Not for this only do I love thee, but 
 Because Infinity upon thee broods ; 
 And thou art full of whispers and of shadows. 
 Thou meanest what the sea has striven to say 
 So long, and yearned up the cliffs to tell ;
 
 MARPESSA 17 
 
 Thou art what all the winds have uttered not, 
 What the still night suggesteth to the heart. 
 Thy voice is like to music heard ere birth, 
 Some spirit lute touched on a spirit sea; 
 Thy face remembered is from other worlds, 
 It has been died for, though I know not when, 
 It has been sung of, though I know not where. 
 It has the strangeness of the luring West, 
 And of sad sea-horizons; beside thee 
 I am aware of other times and lands, 
 Of birth far-back, of lives in many stars. 
 O beauty lone and like a candle clear 
 In this dark country of the world ! Thou art 
 My woe, my early light, my music dying." 
 As he was speaking, she with lips apart 
 Breathed, and with dimmer eyes leaned through 
 the air
 
 i8 MARPESSA 
 
 As one in dream, and now his human hand 
 Took in her own ; and to Apollo spoke : 
 "O gradual rose of the dim universe! 
 Whose warmth steals through the grave unto 
 
 the dead, 
 
 Soul of the early sky, the priest of bloom! 
 Who beautifully goest in the West, 
 Attracting as to an eternal home 
 The yearning soul. Male of the female earth ! 
 O eager bridegroom springing in this world 
 As in thy bed prepared ! Fain would I know 
 Yon heavenly wafting through the heaven wide, 
 And the large view of the subjected seas, 
 And famous cities, and the various toil 
 Of men : all Asia at my feet spread out 
 In indolent magnificence of bloom ! 
 Africa in her matted hair obscured,
 
 MARPESSA 19 
 
 And India in meditation plunged! 
 Then the delight of flinging the sunbeams, 
 Diffusing silent bliss; and yet more sweet, 
 To cherish fruit on the warm wall; to raise 
 Out of the tomb to glory the pale wheat, 
 Serene ascension by the rain prepared; 
 To work with the benignly falling hours, 
 And beautiful slow Time. But dearest, this, 
 To gild the face that from its dead looks up, 
 To shine on the rejected, and arrive 
 To women that remember in the night ; 
 Or mend with sweetest surgery the mind. 
 And yet, forgive me if I can but speak 
 Most human words. Of immortality 
 Thou singest : thou would'st hold me from the 
 
 ground, 
 And this just opening beauty from the grave.
 
 20 MARPESSA 
 
 As yet I have known no sorrow ; all my days 
 Like perfect lilies under water stir, 
 And God has sheltered me from his own wind ; 
 The darling of his breezes have I been. 
 Yet as to one inland, that dreameth lone, 
 Sea-faring men with their sea-weary eyes, 
 Round the inn-fire tell of some foreign land; 
 So aged men, much tossed about in life, 
 Have told me of that country, Sorrow far. 
 How many goodly ships at anchor lie 
 Within her ports; even to me indeed 
 Hath a sea-rumour through the night been 
 
 borne. 
 
 And I myself remember, and have heard, 
 Of men that did believe, women that loved 
 That were unhappy long and now are dead, 
 With wounds that no eternity can close,
 
 MARPESSA 21 
 
 Life had so marked them : or of others who 
 Panted toward their end, and fell on death 
 Even as sobbing runners breast the rope. 
 And most I remember of all human things 
 My mother ; often as a child I pressed 
 My face against her cheek, and felt her tears ; 
 Even as she smiled on me, her eyes would fill, 
 Until my own grew ignorantly wet ; 
 And I in silence wondered at sorrow. 
 When I remember this, how shall I know 
 That I myself may not, by sorrow taught, 
 Accept the perfect stillness of the ground? 
 Where, though I lie still, and stir not at all, 
 Yet shall I irresistibly be kind, 
 Helplessly sweet, a wandering garden bliss. 
 My ashes shall console and make for peace; 
 This mind that injured, be an aimless balm.
 
 22 MARPESSA 
 
 Or if there be some other world, with no 
 Bloom, neither rippling sound, nor early smell, 
 Nor leaves, nor pleasant exchange of human 
 
 speech ; 
 
 Only a dreadful pacing to and fro 
 Of spirits meditating on the sun ; 
 A land of bare"d boughs and grieving wind ; 
 Yet would I not forego the doom, the place, 
 Whither my poets and my heroes went 
 Before me ; warriors that with deeds forlorn 
 Saddened my youth, yet made it great to live; 
 Lonely antagonists of Destiny, 
 That went down scornful before many spears, 
 Who soon as we are born, are straight our 
 
 friends ; 
 
 And live in simple music, country songs, 
 And mournful ballads by the winter fire.
 
 MARPESSA 23 
 
 Since they have died ; their death is ever mine ; 
 I would not lose it. Then, thou speak'st of 
 
 joy. 
 
 Of immortality without one sigh, 
 
 Existence without tears for evermore. 
 
 Thou would'st preserve me from the anguish, 
 
 lest 
 
 This holy face into the dark return. 
 Yet I being human, human sorrow miss. 
 The half of music, I have heard men say, 
 Is to have grieved; when comes the lonely 
 
 wail 
 
 Over the mind ; old men have told it me 
 Subdued after long life by simple sounds. 
 The mourner is the favourite of the moon, 
 And the departing sun his glory owes 
 To the eternal thoughts of creatures brief,
 
 24 MARPESSA 
 
 Who think the thing that they shall never 
 
 see. 
 Since we must die, how bright the starry 
 
 track ! 
 
 How wonderful in a bereaved ear 
 The Northern wind ; how strange the summer 
 
 night, 
 
 The exhaling earth to those who vainly love. 
 Out of our sadness have we made this world 
 So beautiful; the sea sighs in our brain, 
 And in our heart that yearning of the moon. 
 To all this sorrow was I born, and since 
 Out of a human womb I came, I am 
 Not eager to forego it ; I would scorn 
 To elude the heaviness and take the joy, 
 For pain came with the sap, pangs with the 
 
 bloom :
 
 MARPESSA 25 
 
 This is the sting, the wonder. Yet should I 
 
 Linger beside thee in felicity, 
 
 Sliding with open eyes through liquid bliss 
 
 For ever ; still I must grow old. Ah I 
 
 Should ail beside thee Apollo, and should note 
 
 With eyes that would not be, but yet are dim, 
 
 Ever so slight a change from day to day 
 
 In thee my husband ; watch thee nudge thyself 
 
 To little offices that once were sweet : 
 
 Slow where thou once wert swift, remembering 
 
 To kiss those lips which once thou couldst 
 
 not leave. 
 
 I should expect thee by the Western bay, 
 Faded, not sure of thee, with desperate smiles, 
 And pitiful devices of my dress 
 Or fashion of my hair: thou wouldst grow 
 
 kind;
 
 26 MARPESSA 
 
 Most bitter to a woman that was loved. 
 
 I must ensnare thee to my arms, and touch 
 
 Thy pity, to but hold thee to my heart. 
 
 But if I live with Idas, then we two 
 
 On the low earth shall prosper hand in hand 
 
 In odours of the open field, and live 
 
 In peaceful noises of the farm, and watch 
 
 The pastoral fields burned by the setting sun. 
 
 And he shall give me passionate children, not 
 
 Some radiant god that will despise me quite, 
 
 But clambering limbs and little hearts that err. 
 
 And I shall sleep beside him in the night, 
 
 And fearful from some dream shall touch his 
 
 hand 
 
 Secure; or at some festival we two 
 Will wander through the lighted city streets ; 
 And in the crowd I'll take his arm and feel
 
 MARPESSA 27 
 
 Him closer for the press. So shall we live. 
 And though the first sweet sting of love be 
 
 past, 
 
 The sweet that almost venom is ; though youth, 
 With tender and extravagant delight, 
 The first and secret kiss by twilight hedge, 
 The insane farewell repeated o'er and o'er, 
 Pass off; there shall succeed a faithful peace; 
 Beautiful friendship tried by sun and wind, 
 Durable from the daily dust of life. 
 And though with sadder, still with kinder eyes, 
 
 x 
 
 We shall behold all frailties, we shall haste 
 To pardon, and with mellowing minds to bless. 
 Then though we must grow old, we shall grow 
 
 old 
 
 Together, and he shall not greatly miss 
 My bloom faded, and waning light of eyes,
 
 28 MARPESSA 
 
 Too deeply gazed in ever to seem dim ; 
 Nor shall we murmur at, nor much regret 
 The years that gently bend us to the ground, 
 And gradually incline our face ; that we 
 Leisurely stooping, and with each slow step, 
 May curiously inspect our lasting home. 
 But we shall sit with luminous holy smiles, 
 Endeared by many griefs, by many a jest, 
 And custom sweet of living side by side; 
 And full of memories not unkindly glance 
 Upon each other. Last, we shall descend 
 Into the natural ground not without tears 
 One must go first, ah god! one must go first; 
 After so long one blow for both were good; 
 Still like old friends, glad to have met, and 
 
 leave 
 Behind a wholesome memory on the earth.
 
 MARPESSA 29 
 
 And thou, beautiful god, in that far time, 
 When in thy setting sweet thou gazest down 
 On this grey head, wilt thou remember then 
 That once I pleased thee, that I once was 
 
 young ? " 
 
 When she had spoken, Idas with one cry 
 Held her, and there was silence; while the 
 
 god 
 
 In anger disappeared. Then slowly they, 
 He looking downward, and she gazing up, 
 Into the evening green wandered away.
 
 THE WIFE 
 
 A TRUE STORY DONE INTO VERSE 
 
 HER husband starved; and gazed up in her 
 
 face: 
 There was no crumb of bread in the bare 
 
 place. 
 
 Grieving she stared into the waning light 
 With fixed eyes that had in them no sight. 
 But now at last so deeply, " Ah ! " he said, 
 She might no longer bide about the bed; 
 But as in panic ran from side to side, 
 And like a creature all around her spied. 
 
 Sudden she stood; and paled in her thought, 
 3
 
 THE WIFE 31 
 
 And with both hands at her wild bosom 
 
 caught ; 
 
 She saw the room of every morsel reft, 
 And only her own body now is left. 
 Then like a martyr robing for the flame, 
 She wound the shawl about her without shame ; 
 Lo in the red shawl sacredly she burned, 
 Her face already into ashes turned ! 
 And blind out of the brightness of his face 
 On to the street she came with wandering 
 
 pace. 
 
 But at the door a moment did she quail, 
 Hearing her little son behind her wail ; 
 Who, waking, stretched his arms out to her 
 
 wide, 
 
 And softly, " Mother, take me with you ! " cried ; 
 For he would run beside her, clasping tight
 
 32 THE WIFE 
 
 Her hand, and lag at every window bright, 
 Or near some stall beneath the wild gas-flare, 
 At the dim fruit in ghostly bloom would stare. 
 Toward him she turned, and felt her bosom 
 
 swell 
 
 Wildly : he was so young almost she fell ; 
 Yet took him up, and to allay his cries 
 Smiled at him with her lips, not with her eyes, 
 Then laid him down; away her hand she 
 
 snatched, 
 
 And now with streaming face the door un- 
 latched, 
 
 When lo, the long uproar of feet, 
 The huge dim fury of the street! 
 While she into the wild night goes, 
 That in her eyes a light shower blows. 
 Faces like moths against her fly,
 
 THE WIFE 33 
 
 Like moths by brilliance lured to die; 
 
 The clerk with spirit lately dead, 
 
 The decent clothes above him spread ; 
 
 The joyous cruel face of boys ; 
 
 Those dreadful shadows proffering toys ; 
 
 The constable with lifted hand 
 
 Conducting the orchestral Strand ; 
 
 A woman secretly distrest, 
 
 And staidly weeping, dimly drest ; 
 
 A girl is vending flowers and fern, 
 
 Their very touch her fingers burn ; 
 
 A blind man passes, that doth sound 
 
 With shaking head the hollow ground. 
 
 In showering air, the mystic damp, 
 
 The dim balm blown from lamp to lamp, 
 
 A strange look from a shredded shawl, 
 
 A casual voice with thrilling fall !
 
 34 THE WIFE 
 
 The officer from passing eye 
 Hustles the forms that injured lie, 
 Creatures we marred, compelled upright 
 To drift beside us in the light. 
 But now she slowly trembles as she sees 
 The cruel lover that must give her ease: 
 Sated, arranged, he paced in moody stride, 
 With little lilies on his breast that died. 
 O meekly she beside him went away, 
 And dutifully as a daughter may. 
 
 From that unrealized embrace 
 Swiftly she broke with eager face; 
 With food for him that called aloud, 
 She battled through the hostile crowd; 
 An army to frustrate her bent, 
 In sullen numbers 'gainst her sent.
 
 THE WIFE 35 
 
 The mystic river floating wan, 
 The cold soul of the city shone; 
 The moone'd terminus through the dark 
 With emerald and ruby spark, 
 The stoker burningly embowered, 
 With fiery roses on him showered, 
 Glide; at her feet the mud-gleam blue, 
 Above a cloudy tinge and me ; 
 And through the dark the early smell 
 Of waking meadows on her fell. 
 With her right arm the door she pushed, 
 And to the dead the widow rushed. 
 But at the sight so deeply was she torn, 
 She babbled to him like one lately born ; 
 And sorrowful dim sounds about him made, 
 That were not speech : and wildly to him 
 prayed.
 
 36 THE WIFE 
 
 She felt how cold is God, how brief our 
 
 breath, 
 
 How vain is any love, how strong is death : 
 " O fool, O fool ! To have so quickly died ; 
 I am unclean for evermore," she cried ; 
 And then with fear, with gathering distrust, 
 Swiftly between his teeth the morsels thrust. 
 Then stiller grew ; and with a moaning slow 
 Relented now, and wearied in her woe. 
 But as the woman, dying in her thought, 
 Looked upward ; at her dress her baby caught, 
 And she revived, and toward her little son 
 Ventured, that he into her arms might run. 
 And like a strange woman all doubtfully 
 She stretched her arms out shining wistfully, 
 As though with meek advances she beguiled 
 Into her sighing bosom her own child.
 
 THE WIFE 37 
 
 Then pulled him close to her, and held him 
 
 there, 
 
 And all those tears fell down into his hair. 
 Softly she said, "O cruel new-born thing! 
 The years to you a gentleness will bring; 
 Then think of me as one that not in thought, 
 But out of yearning into woe was brought." 
 So as she mourned above him, the old farm 
 With evening noises in the twilight charm 
 Returned, and she remembered quiet trees 
 Just stirring ; she can hear the very breeze ! 
 Her prudent mother wisely to her speaks, 
 Her peaceful hair a little sorrow streaks. 
 And as a soft and dreadful summer day 
 Will suddenly through chill December stray, 
 So the mild beauty of old happiness 
 Wandered into her mind with strange distress;
 
 38 THE WIFE 
 
 Till slowly with the gathering light, lo Life 
 Came back on her; Desire and Dust and 
 
 Strife; 
 The huge and various world with murmur 
 
 grand. 
 
 Time had begun to touch her with soft hand, 
 And sacred passing hours with all things new, 
 Divine forgetfulness and falling dew. 
 Then hunger pained : no thought she had, no 
 
 care, 
 She and the child together ate that fare.
 
 FACES AT A FIRE 
 
 DAZZLED with watching how the swift fire fled 
 Along the dribbling roof, I turned my head; 
 When lo, upraised beneath the lighted cloud 
 The illumed unconscious faces of the crowd ! 
 An old grey face in lovely bloom upturned, 
 The ancient rapture and the dream returned! 
 A crafty face wondering simply up ! 
 That dying face near the communion cup ! 
 The experienced face, now venturous and rash, 
 The scheming eyes hither and thither flash! 
 That common trivial face made up of needs, 
 Now pale and recent from triumphal deeds ! 
 
 The hungry tramp with indolent gloating stare, 
 39
 
 40 FACES AT A FIRE 
 
 The beggar in glory and released from care. 
 A mother slowly burning with bare breast, 
 Yet her consuming child close to her prest! 
 That prosperous citizen in anguish dire, 
 Beseeching heaven from purgatorial fire! 
 Wonderful souls by sudden flame betrayed, 
 I saw ; then through the darkness went afraid
 
 THE LILY 
 
 I DREAMED that after wandering long I came 
 To a dark garden with frail souls for flowers ; 
 And saw the gentle lady we call Death 
 Pace to and fro ; above each bloom she bent, 
 Then passed : a slumbrous sky above her rolled 
 Cloud upon cloud : and from those human 
 
 flowers 
 
 A tragic odour like emotion rose. 
 I followed in her steps, and now she touched 
 Some poppy that had been a dreamer frail, 
 Or rose that was a passionate Eastern queen. 
 But on a sudden I implored her hand, 
 And should have fallen : from a lily near 
 
 What sweet and paining odour to my brain 
 41
 
 42 THE LILY 
 
 Darted, with delicate, unhappy smell 
 Of trouble old and gladness far away! 
 I knew more surely than from any face, 
 More certainly remembered than at words, 
 And slowly swooning said, "Tis she! 'tis she!" 
 Then looking to that lady cold, whose face 
 No sternness and no pity had, I said, 
 " Lady, this flower but a little while, 
 O ! but a little while, has risen here : 
 Have a deep care of it! a small neglect, 
 A brief oblivion overburdens it. 
 For she, that is this flower, and merely blows 
 So strangely silent and so white, was used 
 To be much loved, and guarded wistfully. 
 O ! from this flower be never far away ! " 
 But she to whom I spoke moved slowly on, 
 And as I walked beside her, I awoke.
 
 TO MILTON, BLIND 
 
 HE who said suddenly, " Let there be light ! " 
 To thee the dark deliberately gave; 
 That those full eyes might undistracted be 
 By this beguiling show of sky and field, 
 This brilliance, that so lures us from the Truth. 
 He gave thee back original night, His own 
 Tremendous canvas, large and blank and free, 
 Where at each thought a star flashed out and 
 
 sang. 
 
 O blinded with a special lightning, thou 
 Hadst once again the virgin Dark! and when 
 The pleasant flowery sight, which had deterred 
 
 Thine eyes from seeing, when this recent world 
 43
 
 44 TO MILTON, BLIND 
 
 Was quite withdrawn ; then burst upon thy view 
 The elder glory; space again in pangs, 
 And Eden odorous in the early mist, 
 That heaving watery plain that was the world; 
 Then the burned earth, and Christ coming in 
 
 clouds. 
 
 Or rather a special leave to thee was given 
 By the high power, and thou with bandaged 
 
 eyes 
 Wast guided through the glimmering camp of 
 
 God. 
 
 Thy hand was taken by angels who patrol 
 The evening, or are sentries to the dawn, 
 Or pace the wide air everlastingly. 
 Thou wast admitted to the presence, and deep 
 Argument heardest, and the large design 
 That brings this world out of the woe to bliss.
 
 LAZARUS 
 
 "THE light which I have followed all this 
 
 way 
 
 Out of the darkness grows into a face; 
 Thy face, dear friend, whom I so long have 
 
 known. 
 Have we not wandered with twined arms, and 
 
 walked 
 Through evening fields together? And those 
 
 lips, 
 
 That I have kissed so oft, did they pronounce 
 That dreadful whisper, ' Lazarus arise ' ? 
 For as it came in darkness I was 'ware 
 
 Of countenances terrible, that gazed 
 45
 
 46 LAZARUS 
 
 Each on the other in drear impotence, 
 As I with sighs arose eluding them. 
 
 face that seemest made to weep and smile 
 With us, and hands all rough with common 
 
 tasks ! 
 
 Is this indeed Thy sun to which thou hast 
 Recalled me, and are these Thy fields, which 
 
 grow 
 Slowly from grey to green before my eyes? 
 
 1 felt Thee irresistible in the grave. 
 Forgive me that I talked so lightly, and went 
 So unconcerned beside thee in old days. 
 How is it thou canst care to come and go 
 With such as me, and walk and work with us, 
 Thou at whose whisper Death idled and 
 
 grieved, 
 And knew the voice at which creation shone
 
 LAZARUS 47 
 
 Suddenly? Yet was I so near to peace; 
 And I came back to life remorsefully, 
 When the sea murmured again, and fields 
 
 appeared. 
 
 But how should I complain? Unto what end 
 I am recalled I know not; but if thou 
 Art here content to be, then why not I?"
 
 FAITH 
 
 THOU Power, that beyond the wind 
 
 Rulest, to thee I am resigned. 
 
 My child from me is snatched away; 
 
 She vanished at the peer of day. 
 
 Yet I discern with clearer brow 
 
 A high indulgence in the blow, 
 
 Light in the storm that o'er me broke, 
 
 A special kindness in the stroke, 
 
 A gentleness behind the Law, 
 
 A sweetness following on the awe. 
 
 Shall I forget that noonday hour, 
 
 When as upon some favourite flower 
 
 A deep and tingling bliss was shed,
 
 FAITH 49 
 
 A thrilling peace from overhead? 
 
 I had not known it since my birth, 
 
 I shall not know it more on earth. 
 
 But now I may not sin, nor err, 
 
 For fear of ever losing her. 
 
 Though reeling from Thy thunder-blow, 
 
 Though blinded with Thy lightning low, 
 
 I stagger back to dismal life, 
 
 And mix myself with mortal strife, 
 
 Thy judgment still to me is sweet; 
 
 I feel, I feel, that we shall meet.
 
 BY THE SEA 
 
 REMEMBER, ah remember, how we walked 
 Together on the sea-cliff! You were come 
 From bathing in the ocean, and the sea 
 Was not yet dry upon your hair : together 
 We walked in the wet wind till we were far 
 From voices, even from the thoughts of men. 
 Remember how on the warm beach we sat 
 By the old barque, and in the smell of tar ; 
 While the full ocean on the pebbles dropped, 
 And in our ears the intimate low wind 
 Of noon, that breathing from some ancient 
 place, 
 
 Blew on us merest sleep and pungent youth. 
 5
 
 BY THE SEA 51 
 
 So deeply glad we grew that in pure joy 
 Closer we came; your wild and wet dark hair 
 Slashed in my eyes your essence and your 
 
 sting. 
 
 We had no thought ; we troubled not to speak ; 
 Slowly your head fell down upon my breast, 
 In the soft breeze the acquiescing sun; 
 And the sea-bloom, the colour of calm wind, 
 Was on your cheek; like children then we 
 
 kissed, 
 
 Innocent with the sea and pure with air ; 
 My spirit fled into thee. The moon climbed, 
 The sea foamed nearer, and we two arose ; 
 But ah, how tranquil from that deep embrace! 
 And with no sadness from that natural kiss : 
 Beautiful indolence was on our brains, 
 And on our limbs, as we together swayed
 
 52 BY THE SEA 
 
 Between the luminous ocean and dark fields. 
 We two in vivid slumber without haste, 
 Returned; while veil on veil the heaven was 
 
 bared ; 
 
 And a new glory was on land and sea, 
 And the moist evening fallow, richly dark, 
 Sent up to us the odour cold of sleep, 
 The infinite sweet of death: so we returned, 
 Delaying ever, calm companions, 
 Peacefully slow beside the moody heave 
 Of the moon-brilliant billow to the town.
 
 A. S. P. 
 
 FRAIL was she born ; petal by petal fell 
 Her life : till it was strown upon the herb ; 
 Like petals all her fancies lay about. 
 And the dread Powers kept her face toward 
 
 grief, 
 Although she swerved; and still with many a 
 
 lash 
 
 Guided her to the anguish carefully. 
 So bare her soul that Beauty like a lance 
 Pierced her, and odour full of arrows was. 
 She drugged her brain against realities, 
 And lived in dreams, and was with music fed, 
 
 Imploring to be spared e'en sweetest things. 
 53
 
 54 A. S. P. 
 
 She suffered, and resorted to the ground, 
 
 Glad to be blind, and eager to be deaf; 
 
 Soliciting eternal apathy. 
 
 And she was swift to steep her brain in moss, 
 
 And with the heart that so had loved, to blow 
 
 Merely, and to be idle in the wind. 
 
 She craved no Paradise but only peace.
 
 THE QUESTION 
 
 FATHER, beneath the moonless night, 
 
 This heavy stillness without light, 
 
 There comes a thought which I must speak 
 
 Why is my body then so weak? 
 
 Why do I falter in the race, 
 
 And flag behind this mighty pace? 
 
 Why is my strength so quickly flown? 
 
 And hark! my mother sobs alone. 
 
 My son, when I was young and free, 
 When I was filled with sap and glee, 
 I squandered here and there my strength, 
 
 And to thy mother's arms at length 
 55
 
 56 THE QUESTION 
 
 Weary I came, and over tired; 
 With fever all my bones were fired : 
 Therefore so soon thy strength is flown, 
 Therefore thy mother sobs alone. 
 
 Father, since in your weaker thought, 
 And in your languor I was wrought, 
 Put me away as creatures are; 
 I am infirm and filled with care. 
 Feebly you brought me to the light, 
 Ah, gently hide me out of sight ! 
 Then sooner will my strength be flown, 
 Nor will my mother sob alone. 
 
 My son, stir up the fire, and pass 
 Quickly the comfortable glass ! 
 The infirm and evil fly in vain 
 Is toiling up the window pane.
 
 THE QUESTION 57 
 
 Fill up, for life is so, nor sigh ; 
 
 We cannot run from Destiny. 
 
 Then cheer thy strength that's quickly flown. 
 
 Ah, how thy mother sobs alone!
 
 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 
 
 WHY dreadest thou the calm process of death ? 
 
 To miss thy wife's illuminating smile ? 
 
 No more to proudly touch thy child's bright 
 
 hair? 
 To leave this glorying green, this flashing 
 
 sun? 
 
 Yet Death is full of leisure, and of light; 
 Of compensations and of huge amends. 
 Since all the dead do for the living toil, 
 Assisting, bathing, in the air, the earth; 
 A shower their sympathy draws from the 
 
 ground, 
 
 Delicious kindness from the soil exhaled. 
 
 58
 
 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 59 
 
 Then thou, spendthrift of time, shalt busy be; 
 Thou shalt begin to foster and prepare. 
 O thou that within glaze and blinds didst live, 
 In blackness within windows bright absorbed, 
 Face to the surface swimming with drowned 
 
 eyes! 
 
 Thou as a breeze shalt wander thro' the ward, 
 Balm to the sick, a cool and vagrant bliss : 
 To thee the tired faces shall incline, 
 Incline with closing eyes and open mouths. 
 Thou, dangerous to men, in prisons shut, 
 With life made irretrievable and dark. 
 Thou on the thirsty place shalt drop like dew, 
 Or like a cloud haste to the yearning land. 
 Thou maiden with the silent speckless ways, 
 On plant or creature squandering thy heart ; 
 Thou in caresses large shalt spend thy life.
 
 60 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 
 
 Conspiring with the summer plans of lovers, 
 
 scent 
 
 From evening hedge the walk of boy and girl. 
 Thou merchant, or thou, clerk, hard driven, 
 
 urged 
 
 For ever on bright iron, timed by bells, 
 Shalt mellow fruit in the serene noon air, 
 With rivulets of birds through fields of light, 
 Causing to fall the indolent misty peach. 
 Then thou, disturbed so oft, shalt make for 
 
 peace ; 
 Thou who didst injure, heal, and sew, and 
 
 bless ; 
 Thou who didst mar, shalt make for perfect 
 
 health ; 
 
 Thou, so unlucky, fall with fortunate rain. 
 And I to whom sweet life is dangerous edged,
 
 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 61 
 
 With tenderness to madness near, with need 
 Even of a little dew, a drop of hope; 
 Disguised and starved, who dare not show my 
 
 soul, 
 
 Who walk with bitten lip and clenched hands, 
 For me divine relief! To dare to trust 
 Each impulse, and to drive free and secure; 
 All my intention bland and prosperous ! 
 The rose is at my silent coming rich ; 
 I on my enemy's eyes like sleep shall drop, 
 And he at dawn shall bless me and shall 
 
 drowse. 
 
 Blind shall I be and good, dumb and serene : 
 I shall not blame, nor question ; I shall shine 
 Diffused and tolerant, luminous and large. 
 No longer shall I vex, but live my life 
 In solaces, caresses, and in balms,
 
 62 BEAUTIFUL DEATH 
 
 Nocturnal soothings and nutritious sighs. 
 The unhappy mind an odour shall be breathed ; 
 I shall be sagely blown, flung with design, 
 Assist this bland and universal scheme, 
 Industrious, happy, sweet, delicious, dead !
 
 THE PRISONER 
 
 BACKWARD the prison door is flung, 
 Without the young wife stands ; 
 While to herself she murmurs with bright eyes, 
 And over-eager hands. 
 
 They brought the young man out to her, 
 That was so strong erewhile; 
 Slowly he ventured up to her strange arms 
 With unrecalling smile. 
 
 O like a mother she must lead 
 
 His slow and wandering pace ; 
 
 He stammers to her like a little child, 
 
 And wonders in her face. 
 63
 
 64 THE PRISONER 
 
 O like a daughter must she live, 
 And no wife to him now ; 
 Only remain beside those ailing limbs, 
 And soothe that aged brow. 
 
 " Husband," she said, " I had rather closed 
 
 Those wild eyes on the bier, 
 
 Rather have kissed those lips when they were 
 
 cold, 
 Than seen them smile so drear ! "
 
 THE WOUND 
 
 I DREAMED that, having died, my soul was 
 
 brought 
 
 Into the Presence. Many angels stood 
 Around, and with delight upon me gazed; 
 And higher I discerned the face of God 
 Diffusing silent universal bliss. 
 Then moved an angel toward me, and with 
 
 joy 
 Addressed me, saying: "Come and rest at 
 
 last, 
 
 And having rested, then thou shalt rejoice." 
 The heavenly company smiled on me sweet; 
 
 But I unbared my soul, and showed to them 
 65 E
 
 66 THE WOUND 
 
 That wound which never human word, or hope, 
 Or pity hath ever 'suaged; and at the sight 
 A strange disturbance on the spirits came, 
 And even a dimness on the face of God. 
 Then rose from God's right hand a gentle 
 
 Form, 
 
 With silent eyes that said, " Hast thou for- 
 got?" 
 And He disclosed His branded brow and 
 
 hands. 
 
 But I toward Him turning softly said, 
 "Thy wounds are many, but Thou hadst no 
 child."
 
 THE NEW "DE PROFUNDIS" 
 
 OUT from the mist, the mist, I cry; 
 Let not my soul of numbness die! 
 My life is furled in every limb, 
 And my existence groweth dim. 
 My senses all like weapons rust, 
 And lie disused in endless dust. 
 I may not love, I may not hate; 
 Slowly I feel my life abate. 
 
 O would there were a heaven to hear! 
 O would there were a hell to fear! 
 Ah, welcome fire, eternal fire, 
 
 To burn for ever and not tire! 
 67
 
 68 THE NEW "DE PROFUNDIS" 
 
 Better Ixion's whirling wheel, 
 And still at any cost to feel! 
 Dear Son of God, in mercy give 
 My soul to flame, but let me live ! 
 
 I am discouraged by the street, 
 The pacing of monotonous feet; 
 Faces of all emotion purged; 
 From nothing unto nothing urged; 
 The living men that shadows go, 
 A vain procession to and fro. 
 The earth an unreal course doth run, 
 Haunted by a phantasmal sun: 
 
 Thou didst create me keen and bright, 
 Of hearing exquisite and sight. 
 Look on thy creature, muffled, furled, 
 That has no glory in thy world.
 
 THE NEW "DE PROFUNDIS" 69 
 
 In odours that like arrows dart, 
 Beauty that overwhelms the heart. 
 I neither hear, nor smell, nor see; 
 But only glide perpetually. 
 
 I seem to feel upon my soul 
 The slow approach, the gradual roll 
 Of Darkness older than the light, 
 Of blackness gaining on the bright. 
 
 wasted is that wine like blood, 
 Wasted the flesh that was our food! 
 If in the dimness without strife 
 
 1 perish, life, O give me life!
 
 THE APPARITION 
 
 I 
 
 MY dead Love came to me, and said: 
 "God gives me one hour's rest, 
 
 To spend upon the earth with thee: 
 How shall we spend it best?" 
 
 "Why as of old," I said, and so 
 
 We quarrelled as of old. 
 But when I turned to make my peace, 
 
 That one short hour was told. 
 
 70
 
 THE APPARITION 71 
 
 II 
 
 NINE nights she did not come to me 
 The heaven was filled with rain; 
 
 And as it fell, and fell, I said, 
 "She will not come again." 
 
 Last night she came, not as before, 
 
 But in a strange attire; 
 Weary she seemed, and very faint, 
 
 As though she came from fire.
 
 72 THE APPARITION 
 
 in 
 
 SHE is not happy! It was noon; 
 
 i 
 The sun fell on my head: 
 
 And it was not an hour in which 
 We think upon the dead. 
 
 She is not happy! I should know 
 Her voice, much more her cry; 
 
 And close beside me a great rose 
 Had just begun to die. 
 
 She is not happy! As I walked, 
 
 Of her I was aware: 
 She cried out, like a creature hurt, 
 
 Close by me in the air.
 
 THE APPARITION 73 
 
 IV 
 
 UNDER the trembling summer stars, 
 I turned from side to side; 
 
 When she came in and sat with me, 
 As though she had not died. 
 
 And she was kind to me and sweet, 
 She had her ancient way; 
 
 Remembered how I liked her hand 
 Amid my hair to stray. 
 
 She had forgotten nothing, yet 
 Older she seemed, and still: 
 
 All quietly she took my kiss, 
 Even as a mother will.
 
 74 THE APPARITION 
 
 She rose, and in the streak of dawn 
 
 She turned as if to go: 
 But then again came back to me; 
 
 My eyes implored her so ! 
 
 She pushed the hair from off my brow, 
 
 And looked into my eyes. 
 "I live in calm," she said, "and there 
 
 Am learning to be wise." 
 
 " Why grievest thou ? I pity thee 
 
 Still turning on this bed." 
 "And art thou happy?" I exclaimed. 
 
 " Alas ! " she sighed, and fled.
 
 THE APPARITION 75 
 
 V 
 
 I WOKE: she had been standing by, 
 
 With wonder on her face. 
 She came toward me, very bright, 
 
 As from a blessed place. 
 
 She touched me not, but smiling spoke, 
 
 And softly as before. 
 
 " They gave me drink from some slow 
 stream ; 
 
 I love thee now no more."
 
 76 THE APPARITION 
 
 VI 
 
 THE other night she hurried in, 
 Her face was wild with fear: 
 
 " Old friend," she said, " I am pursued, 
 May I take refuge here?"
 
 LYRICS 
 I 
 
 O TO recall ! 
 
 What to recall ? 
 
 All the roses under snow? 
 
 Not these. 
 Stars that toward the water go ? 
 
 Not these. 
 
 O to recall ! 
 
 What to recall ? 
 
 All the greenness after rain ? 
 
 Not this. 
 Joy that gleameth after pain ? 
 
 Not this. 
 
 77
 
 78 LYRICS 
 
 O to recall ! 
 
 What to recall? 
 
 Not thd greenness nor delight, 
 
 Not these; 
 Not the roses out of sight, 
 
 Not these. 
 
 O to recall ! 
 
 What to recall ? 
 
 Not the star in waters red, 
 
 Not this: 
 Laughter of a girl that's dead, 
 
 O this!
 
 LYRICS 79 
 
 II 
 
 I IN the greyness rose; 
 
 I could not sleep for thinking of one dead. 
 
 Then to the chest I went, 
 
 Where lie the things of my beloved spread. 
 
 Quietly these I took; 
 
 A little glove, a sheet of music torn, 
 
 Paintings, ill-done perhaps; 
 
 Then lifted up a dress that she had worn. 
 
 And now I came to where 
 
 Her letters are; they lie beneath the rest; 
 
 And read them in the haze; 
 
 She spoke of many things, was sore opprest.
 
 So LYRICS 
 
 But these things moved me not; 
 
 Not when she spoke of being parted quite, 
 
 Or being misunderstood, 
 
 Or growing weary of the world's great fight. 
 
 Not even when she wrote 
 
 Of our dead child, and the hand-writing 
 
 swerved ; 
 
 Not even then I shook: 
 Not even by such words was I unnerved. 
 
 I thought, she is at peace ; 
 
 Whither the child is gone, she too has passed. 
 
 And a much needed rest 
 
 Is fallen upon her, she is still at last.
 
 LYRICS 81 
 
 But when at length I took 
 From under all those letters one small sheet, 
 Folded and writ in haste ; 
 Why did my heart with sudden sharpness 
 beat? 
 
 Alas, it was not sad ! 
 
 Her saddest words I had read calmly o'er. 
 
 Alas, it had no pain ! 
 
 Her painful words, all these I knew before. 
 
 A hurried happy line ! 
 
 A little jest, too slight for one so dead : 
 
 This did I not endure: 
 
 Then with a shuddering heart no more I read. 
 
 F
 
 82 LYRICS 
 
 III 
 
 O THOU art put to many uses, sweet! 
 
 Thy blood will urge the rose, and surge in 
 
 Spring; 
 But yet! . . . 
 
 And all the blue of thee will go to the sky, 
 And all thy laughter to the rivers run ; 
 But yet! . . . 
 
 Thy tumbling hair will in the West be seen, 
 And all thy trembling bosom in the dawn ; 
 But yet! . . .
 
 LYRICS 83 
 
 Thy briefness in the dewdrop shall be hung, 
 And all the frailness of thee on the foam; 
 But yet! . . . 
 
 Thy soul shall be upon the moonlight spent, 
 Thy mystery spread upon the evening mere. 
 And yet! . . .
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 A PHANTASY 
 
 KEEN as a blinded man, at dawn awake, 
 Smells in the dark the cold odour of earth ; 
 Eastward he turns his eyes, and over him 
 A dreadful freshness exquisitely breathes; 
 The room is brightening, even his own face ! 
 So the excluded ghosts in Hades felt 
 A waft of early sweet, and heard the rain 
 Of Spring beginning over them; they all 
 Stood still, and in each other's faces looked. 
 And restless grew their queen Persephone; 
 Who, like a child, dreading to be observed 
 
 By awful Dis, threw little glances down 
 8 4
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 85 
 
 Toward them, and understood them with her 
 
 eyes. 
 
 Perpetual dolour had as yet but drooped 
 The corners of her mouth ; and in her hand 
 She held a bloom that had on earth a name. 
 Quickly she whispered: "Come, my Hermes, 
 
 Come! 
 'Tis time to fetch me! Ah, through all my 
 
 veins 
 
 The sharpness of the spring returns: I hear 
 The stalk revive with sap, and the first drops 
 On green illumined grass; now over me 
 The blades are growing fast; I cannot rest. 
 
 He comes, he comes! Yet with how slow a 
 
 < 
 step, 
 
 Who used to run along a sunny gust! 
 And O a withered wreath ! no roses now
 
 86 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Dewy from paradise. Surely not his 
 
 Those earnest eyes, that ragged hair; his 
 
 face 
 
 Was glad and cold. This is no god at all, 
 Only some grieving human shade, with hands 
 Unsightly, and the eager Furies wheel 
 Over him ! " Slowly to her side her arms 
 Had fallen; Christ with grave eyes looks on 
 
 her. 
 Her young mouth trembled fast, and from her 
 
 hand 
 
 With serious face she let the earthly flower 
 Drop down ; then, stretching out her arms, she 
 
 said: 
 
 "O all fresh out of beautiful sunlight! 
 Thine eyes are still too dazed to see us clear. 
 Was it not difficult to come away
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 87 
 
 Straight from the greenness to the dimness? 
 
 Now 
 
 It is the time of tender, opening things. 
 Above my head the fields murmur and wave, 
 And breezes are just moving the clear heat. 
 O the mid-noon is trembling on the corn, 
 On cattle calm, and trees in perfect sleep. 
 And hast thou empty come? Hast thou not 
 
 brought 
 
 Even a blossom with the noise of rain 
 And smell of earth about it, that we all 
 Might gather round and whisper over it ? 
 At one wet blossom all the dead would feel ! 
 O thou beginning to glide here a shadow, 
 Soon shalt thou know how much it seems to us, 
 In miserable dim magnificence, 
 To feel the snowdrop growing over us!
 
 k 
 
 88 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 That barren crown ! but now it was a wreath. 
 These gusts of Hell have blown it into thorn ! 
 If thou canst bear it yet, O speak to me 
 Of the blue noon, of breezes and of rivers ! " 
 
 A wonderful stillness stopped her; like to 
 
 trees 
 
 Motionless in an ecstasy of rain, 
 So the tall dead stood drooping around Christ, 
 Under the falling peace intensely still; 
 And some in slow delight their faces raised 
 Upwards ; but soon, like leaves, duly released, 
 Tormented phantoms, ancient injured shades, 
 Sighing began downward to drift and glide 
 Toward him, and unintelligibly healed 
 Lingered, with closing eyes and parting lips. 
 Agamemnon bowed over, and from his wheel
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 89 
 
 Ixion staggered to his feet all blind. 
 Over the head of Jesus the whole sky 
 Of pain began to drive : old punishments 
 Diswreathing drooped, and legendary dooms 
 Dispersing hung, and lurid history streamed. 
 But he against that flying sky remained 
 Placid with power; in silence stood the dead, 
 Gazing ; only was heard that river steal, 
 The listless ripple of Oblivion. 
 Then an Athenian ghost stood out and spoke. 
 " I fear to speak to thee, while these my eyes 
 Behold our great life interrupted pause. 
 That was our sky, that passes : and I miss 
 The busy sound of water, and of stone; 
 And sorrows that we thought perpetual 
 I see suspended, and amid them thee 
 Gentle, and all injured. Art thou a god
 
 90 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Easily closing all these open eyes, 
 
 And hast not spoken word ? Thou hast not 
 
 played 
 
 Monotonously as rain, inducing sleep : 
 Thou comest without lute, yet hast thou power 
 To charm the fixed melancholy of spirits ? 
 Art thou a god? Then guide us to the air, 
 To trees and rivers, that peculiar light 
 Which even now is squandered on the beasts. 
 Canst thou not make the primrose venture up 
 Or bring the gentlest shower ? O pity us ; 
 For I would ask of thee only to look 
 Upon the wonderful sunlight, and to smell 
 Earth in the rain. Is not the labourer, 
 Returning heavy through the August sheaves 
 Against the setting sun, who gladly smells 
 His supper from the opening door, is he
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 91 
 
 Not happier than these melancholy kings ? 
 How good it is to live, even at the worst ! 
 God was so lavish to us once, but here 
 He hath repented, jealous of his beams. 
 Just as a widower, that dreaming holds 
 His dead wife in his arms, not wondering, 
 So natural it appears ; then starting up 
 With trivial words, or even with a jest, 
 Realises all the uncoloured dawn, 
 And near his head the young bird in the leaves 
 Stirring ; not less, not otherwise do we 
 Want in this colourless country the warm 
 
 earth. 
 
 Yet how shall we in thy tormented face 
 Believe ? Thou comest from the glistening 
 
 sun 
 As out of some great battle, nor hast thou
 
 92 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 The beautiful ease of the untroubled gods. 
 Most strong are they, for they are joyous 
 
 cold. 
 
 Thou art not happy ! We can trust thee not. 
 How wilt thou lead with feet already pierced ? 
 And if we ask thy hand, see, it is torn ! " 
 
 But when he had spoken, Christ no answer 
 
 made. 
 
 Upon his hands in uncouth gratitude 
 Great prisoners muttering fawned: behind 
 
 them stood 
 
 Dreadful suspended business, and vast life 
 Pausing, dismantled piers, and naked frames. 
 And further, shapes from obscure troubles 
 
 loosed, 
 Like mist descended : on the horizon last,
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 93 
 
 The piled tremendous firmament collapsed, 
 With dazzling pains, and solemn sorrows 
 white. 
 
 Then stole a woman up to him, and said : 
 "Although I know thee not, yet can I tell 
 That only a great love hath brought thee 
 
 hither. 
 Didst thou so ail in brightness, and couldst 
 
 not rest 
 
 For thinking of some woman? Was thy bed 
 So empty, cold thy hearth, and aimless glides 
 Thy wife amidst us ? Whom then dost thou 
 
 seek ? 
 For see, we are so changed: thou wouldst 
 
 not know 
 The busy form that moved about thy fire.
 
 94 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 She has no occupation, and no care, 
 No little tasks. O we had pleasant homes. 
 And often we remember husbands dear, 
 That were most kind, and wonder after them. 
 My little children ! Who sings to them now ? 
 Return then to the earth! Thou canst not 
 
 fetch 
 
 Thy drooping listless woman to the air. 
 Thou'lt have no comfort out of her at all. 
 Yet say, perhaps thou hast but lately died, 
 And wanderest here unburied? Restless 
 
 seem 
 
 Those eyes ; ah, on thy body thou dost feel 
 The bird settling? Hath no friend covered up 
 Thy limbs, or do they fall with falling waves ? " 
 But one broke in on her with eager words. 
 " See how we live along exhausted streams,
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 95 
 
 Eluding forests, and dispersing hills ; 
 
 O but I gloried and drank and wept and 
 
 laughed ! 
 
 Give me again great life ! To dare, to enjoy, 
 To explore, never to tire, to be alive, 
 And full of blood, and young, to risk, to love! 
 The bright glory of after-battle wine, 
 The flushed recounting faces, the stern hum 
 Of burnished armies, thrill of unknown seas ! " 
 As he was speaking, slowly all the dead 
 The melancholy attraction of Jesus felt; 
 And millions, like a sea, wave upon wave, 
 Heaved dreaming to that moonlight face, or 
 
 ran 
 
 In wonderful long ripples, sorrow-charmed. 
 Toward him in faded purple, pacing came 
 Dead emperors, and sad unflattered kings;
 
 96 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Unlucky captains listless armies led; 
 Poets with music frozen on their lips, 
 Toward the pale Brilliance sighed ; until at last 
 Antiquity, like evening gathering, 
 With mild and starry faces, gradually 
 Had stolen up. Glimmering all the dead 
 Looked upon Jesus; as they stood, some 
 
 thought 
 
 Spread from the furthest edges like a breeze, 
 Till like a leafy forest, the huge host 
 Whispered together, bending all one way 
 Toward him ; and then ensued a stillness 
 
 deep. 
 
 But suddenly the form of Jesus stirred; 
 And all the dead stirred with him suddenly. 
 He shuddered with a rapture ; and from his 
 
 eyes
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 97 
 
 They felt returning agonies of hope. 
 
 As men, flame-wrapped, hither and thither 
 
 run, 
 
 To rid them, or fall headlong to the ground ; 
 The dead, caught in intolerable hope, 
 Hither and thither burning rushed, or fell 
 Imploring him to leave them cold; but Christ 
 Came through them : leading irresistibly 
 Not western spirits alone: but all that world 
 Was up ! and after him in passion swept 
 Dead Asia, murmuring, and the buried North ! 
 
 But in his path a lonely spirit stood; 
 A Roman, he who from a greater Greek 
 Borrowed as beautifully as the moon 
 The fire of the sun : fresh come he was, and 
 still
 
 98 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Deaf with the sound of Rome: forward he 
 
 came 
 
 Softly; a human tear had not yet dried. 
 "Whither," he said, "O whither dost thou 
 
 lead 
 
 In such a calm all these embattled dead ? 
 Almost I could begin to sing again, 
 To see these nations burning run through 
 
 Hell, 
 
 Magnificently anguished, by the grave 
 Untired; and this last March against the 
 
 Powers. 
 
 Who would more gladly follow thee than I ? 
 But over me the human trouble comes. 
 Dear gladiator pitted against Fate, 
 I fear for thee : around thee is the scent 
 Of over-beautiful, quick-fading things,
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 99 
 
 The pang, the gap, the briefness, all the dew, 
 Tremble, and suddenness of earth : I must 
 Remember young men dead in their hot . 
 
 bloom, 
 
 The sweetness of the world edged like a sword, 
 The melancholy knocking of those waves, 
 The deep unhappiness of winds, the light 
 That comes on things we never more shall 
 
 see. 
 Yet I am thrilled : thou seemest like the 
 
 bourne 
 
 Of all our music, of the hinting night, 
 Of souls under the moonlight opening." 
 Now after speaking, he bowed down his head, 
 Faltered, and shed wet tears in the vain place. 
 And Christ half turned, and with grave, open 
 
 eyes,
 
 ioo CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Looked on him : but behind there was a 
 
 sound 
 
 Of vast impatience, and the murmurous chafe 
 Of captains sick for war ; and poets shone 
 All dreaming bright, and fiery prophets, seized 
 With gladness, boded splendid things ; and 
 
 scarred 
 
 Heroes, as desperate men, that see no path, 
 Yet follow a riddled memorable flag, 
 Pressed close upon that leader world-engraved. 
 But he began to pace with slower step, 
 With wandering gaze, still hesitating more ; 
 Then stayed, and on his last foot strongly 
 
 leaned. 
 
 Faintly the air bore to him blood he knew. 
 His gentle eyes hither and thither roved.
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 101 
 
 The Furies rose ejaculating fast, 
 
 And circled nearer o'er the limitless dead, 
 
 Who paused, all whispering: before them 
 
 hung 
 
 Still unredeemed Prometheus from his crag; 
 His limbs impaled : then stood the Son of 
 
 Man, 
 
 And seemed almost about to speak; the dead 
 In silence upward gazed. The Titan's face 
 Through passing storms leaps out in dazzling 
 
 pain 
 
 Momently on them, and his tone returns 
 Fitfully through the gusting hurricane. 
 " Stay, mighty dreamer, though thou comest on 
 Attracting all the dead, to thy deep charm 
 Resigned and bright ; yet stay, and look on 
 
 me! 
 
 G2
 
 loss CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Do I not trouble thee? Dost thou not 
 
 swerve 
 
 Smelling my kindred blood on the great track ? 
 Full in thy path I menace. After me 
 Canst thou go on?" The storm carried his 
 
 voice 
 From them, and veiled with rushing hail his 
 
 face. 
 
 Then many unbound heroes toward him ran, 
 Going with great dumb gestures between him 
 And Christ ; and in their leader's face looked up 
 Beseeching him their brother to release; 
 Then they refrained, all motionless : and now 
 The Titan bowed, coming upon them, and 
 
 seemed 
 
 Falling to carry with him all the crag 
 Down on them : over the dead host he cried :
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 103 
 
 " Lo all these ancient prisoners released ! 
 Did I not feel them everywhere come down 
 Easily from immortal torment ? yet 
 I, I alone, while all came down from woe, 
 Still striving, could not wrench away these 
 
 limbs. 
 O Christ, canst thou a nail move from these 
 
 feet, 
 
 Thou who art standing in such love of me ? 
 Thy hands are too like mine to undo these 
 
 bonds, 
 
 Brother, although the dead world follow thee, 
 Deep-fascinated: love hath marred us both, 
 And one yearning, as wide as is the world. 
 O how thy power leaves thee at this cross ! 
 Prepare thee for the anguish! Thou shalt 
 
 know
 
 104 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Trouble so exquisite, that from his wheel 
 Happy Ixion shall spare tears for thee; 
 And thou shalt envy me my shadowy crag 
 And softly-feeding vulture. Thou shalt stand 
 Gazing for ever on the earth, and watch 
 How fast thy words incarnadine the world ! 
 That I know all things is my torment; noth- 
 ing, 
 
 That ever shall befall, to me is new : 
 Already I have suffered it far-off; 
 And on the mind the poor event appears 
 The pale reflexion of some ancient pang. 
 Yet I foresee dim comfort, and discern 
 A bleak magnificence of endless hope. 
 It seems that even thy woe shall have an 
 
 end. 
 It comes upon thee ! O prepare thee ; ah,
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 105 
 
 That wailing, those young cries, this smoul- 
 dering smell ! 
 
 I see the dreadful look of men unborn. 
 
 What hast thou said, that all the air is 
 blood ? " 
 
 He cried with nostrils shuddering fast; and 
 
 Christ 
 
 Moved to unbind him ; but with arm out- 
 stretched 
 
 Suddenly stood. A scene unrolling stayed 
 Him who had easily released the dead. 
 He knew that to r a time the great advance 
 He must delay, postponing our desire. 
 The earth again he sees, and all mankind 
 Half in the shining sun upright, and half 
 Reposing in the shadow ; deserts and towns,
 
 106 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 And cloudy mountains and the trembling sea, 
 And all the deeds done; and the spoken 
 
 words 
 
 Distinct he hears: the human history 
 Before his eyes defiles in bright sunbeams, 
 An endless host parading past; whom he, 
 Their leader mild, remorsefully reviewed, 
 And had no joy in them, although aloud 
 They cried his name, and with fierce faces glad 
 Looked up to him for praise, all murmuring 
 
 proud, 
 And bloody trophies toward him flourished 
 
 and waved : 
 
 But as he stood, gazing, from time to time 
 He seemed to swerve, as though his hand 
 
 grew red, 
 Or move, as though to interrupt some sight.
 
 CHRIST IN HADES 107 
 
 Now when the dead saw that he must not 
 
 stir, 
 
 Absorbed, with wonder gathering in his eyes, 
 They came about him, touching him, and 
 
 some 
 
 Reminded him, and looked into his face. 
 Others in patience laid them down, or fell 
 To calling him sweet earthly names : at last 
 Waiting the signal that he could not give, 
 Wanting the one word that he might not 
 
 speak, 
 
 Seeing he stirred not once, they wandered off, 
 And gathering into groups, yet spoke of him ; 
 Then to despair slowly dispersed, as men 
 Return with morning to the accustomed task. 
 And as without some theatre, so friend 
 Waited for friend, and speaking of that scene,
 
 io8 CHRIST IN HADES 
 
 Into the ancient sorrow walked away. 
 
 Yet many could .not, after such a sight, 
 
 At once retire, but must from time to time 
 
 Linger with undetermining bright eyes. 
 
 Now at each parting way some said farewell, 
 
 And each man took his penance up, perhaps 
 
 Less easily from such an interval: 
 
 The vault closed back, woe upon woe, the 
 
 wheel 
 
 Revolved, the stone rebounded; for that time 
 Hades her interrupted life resumed.
 
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