THE CAMEO SERIES 
 
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 BY HENRIK IBSEN. 
 
 / IPHIGENIA IN DELPHI. 
 
 BY RICHARD GARNETT, LL.D. 
 
 <T MIREIO : A PROVENCAL POEM. 
 BY FREDERIC MISTRAL. 
 
 C LYRICS. 
 
 SELECTED FROM THE WORKS OF 
 A. MARY F. ROBINSON. 
 
 7 A MINOR POET. 
 BY AMY LEVY. 
 
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 EDITED BY GRAHAM R. TOMSON. 
 
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 / 1 FLAMMA VESTALIS, AND OTHER POEMS. 
 / BY EUGENE MASON. 
 
The Soul's 
 Departure 
 and Other 
 Poems 
 
Publisher's Note 
 
 ameo Series, commenced in 
 J- 1889, was designed for the bring- 
 ing together, as opportunity offered, 
 of Volumes of Poetry of an original 
 quality. Tliis programme was carried 
 out, in a modest way, by the inclusion 
 in the Series, among oilier volumes, of 
 William Watson's Wordsworth Grave, 
 Amy Lay's London Plane Tree and 
 A Minor Poet, and translations of 
 Ibsen's Lady from the Sea and Brand, 
 and of Echcgaray's The Son of Don 
 Juan and Mariana. 
 
 The publisher in issuing Mr. 
 Willmore's The Soul's Departure and 
 Other Poems, begs to state that it is 
 the first of several new volumes planned, 
 which it is hoped may further justify 
 the original design of The Cameo 
 Series. 
 
VCEE.V ROSE. 
 
by 
 
 EDWARD WILLMORE 
 
 CAMEO SERIES 
 
 The 
 
 Soul's Departure 
 
 orns^ VOSMS 
 
 T.FisberUnwin PaternosterSq. 
 LondonE.C. MDCCCXCVIII. 
 
[ A II rights reserved} 
 
Contents 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The SouPs Departure 9 
 
 "Calligraphy" X 9 
 
 Michel Angela's David 2 3 
 
 Apollo, the Neatherd 2 7 
 
 The Pedant 3 1 
 
 Lamps and Stars 37 
 
 Queen Rose 4 1 
 
 The Noon Star 45 
 
 In the London Street 49 
 
 The Midnight Cock 53 
 
 Strength in Weakness 57 
 
 The Crystal Window 6l 
 
 Dawn 6 7 
 
 The Sleeping City 7* 
 
 At the Fait- 75 
 
The Soul's Departure. 
 
THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. n 
 
 The Soul's Departure. 
 
 ' He shall return no 
 more to his house." 
 JOB vii. 10. 
 
 VVTHEN the time came round 
 
 That the Soul must leave the Body, 
 All the Man's kinsfolk 
 Stood round the bed 
 Where the miracle was to be 
 The departure for the journey. 
 And the heavy eyelids 
 Gave faint recognition, 
 And the leaden hands 
 Caught at the coverlet : 
 Then the Soul stood out 
 Invisible beside the shed Body, 
 And shivered in the strange air. 
 
12 THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 Now when the mourners, 
 
 Performing the decent rites 
 
 To the still clay, had departed, 
 
 The trembling Ghost alone 
 
 Beheld its dead companion, 
 
 And lay close to it on the bed, . 
 
 And breathed in the nostrils, 
 
 And kissed the cheeks like a lover, 
 
 For well it knew 
 
 The inadequate use 
 
 It had made of the Body, 
 
 Now realising 
 
 Expression's postponement 
 
 Forever impossible ; 
 
 Whispering rapidly 
 
 " Much have I marred thee, 
 
 Beautiful Body, 
 
 Gift of my Mother ; 
 
 Much have I starved thee 
 
 From fitting communion, 
 
 Till now thou seem'st 
 
 Heavy and strange to me. 
 
 O let me live in thee 
 
 Just for a day more 
 
 The rest of this day 
 
THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. 13 
 
 Only an hour, then ? 
 For I have twenty words 
 To say to my children, 
 And a score others 
 For my Wife Martha, 
 Words I have treasured 
 Fearing to utter them, 
 Thinking them too great." 
 
 To whom the Body 
 
 By faint intimations 
 
 (For each alone 
 
 Was understood by the other) 
 
 " Much now I marvel 
 
 How half a hundred years 
 
 Then hast thou slighted me, 
 
 Keeping back from me 
 
 A portion of joy, 
 
 When I have yielded thee 
 
 Rights as a bride yields. 
 
 Was I inadequate ? 
 
 From our Mother 
 
 I had my full limbs, 
 
 And it shames me to think 
 
 Their due is bereft. 
 
14 THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE 
 
 Still is my tongue warm : 
 
 Was that inadequate ? 
 
 Did not my heart beat 
 
 Fully and sweetly, 
 
 Granting sufficiency ? 
 
 The ample tides of my blood, 
 
 Leaping for gladness, 
 
 Joyed in their channels. 
 
 Now it is late ; 
 
 I must rejoin 
 
 Am now rejoining 
 
 As thou in thy sphere, 
 
 The cycles of Being. 
 
 Alas ! Laggard lover, 
 
 ALons will lavish, 
 
 And not come again to this 
 
 In thy hand yesterday." 
 
 And the dead eyelids 
 
 Moistened and glinted, 
 
 And the very dead heart 
 
 Shivered, 
 
 Stopped. 
 
 Then the Soul 
 Trembled violently, 
 
THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. 15 
 
 And the eight Doom-Angels 
 Entered the room, 
 Stark servants of God, 
 Bearing their heavy swords. 
 
 But when they looked on the bed 
 
 They perceived two corpses, 
 
 For the Soul like a corpse 
 
 Lay by the Body 
 
 In deadly affright ; 
 
 But by its fearful countenance 
 
 They knew it, 
 
 And questioned it straitly 
 
 In a moment of time 
 
 Concerning all its past life, 
 
 While it lay calm in dread, 
 
 As the Body in death. 
 
 Then they called the Soul to depart, 
 
 And out of the loved doorway it went, 
 
 Guarded by the Angels. 
 
 But when it reached the courtyard 
 
 (Now, loud-mouthed, 
 
 Howled the kennelled hounds, 
 
 Men's friends, cowed, 
 
1 6 THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 And cowering to rue 
 Rough ones, to rue) 
 And beheld the window 
 At which so often 
 When homeward returning 
 It had seen the beloved ones, 
 The Ghost roused from its stupor 
 And tried to stay the guards 
 By its pitiful gesture. 
 
 But they advanced starkly. 
 
 Then it again besought them 
 With its pitiful gesture 
 (A wavering, thin cloud 
 Amidst those strong ones, 
 Destiny's executors, 
 Surcharged with direction, 
 Of path pre-appointed 
 Unto the World's end) : 
 " Let me one moment 
 Look in at the window 
 And see my Wife Martha 
 And the three Children again ; 
 Long is the way I needs must go, 
 And far will they be from me." 
 
THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. ] 
 
 They replied, " We may not. 
 God would accuse us." 
 But still it besought 
 With its pitiful gesture : 
 " God will not accuse you 
 For one moment's delay. 
 And if He did not pity, 
 Would not you pity me ? " 
 
 Heaven's house-soldiers, 
 
 The guards of the high God, 
 
 Were moved at the Soul's words ; 
 
 They dropt their shining sword-points, 
 
 And the Man's Soul 
 
 Gazed in at the window-pane. 
 
 There the poor Wife Martha 
 
 Sat with the three Children 
 
 Near a glow of ashes, 
 
 And wept. 
 
 And the Soul wept too, 
 
 And moaned and shook the window, 
 
 And the youngest Child said joyfully, 
 
 " It is Father come home." 
 
1 8 THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 But the Mother started and said, 
 " It is the storm-gust." 
 
 So the Soul, 
 
 Struggling to speak, 
 
 Was borne on by the Angels. 
 
 Wearily it went the way, 
 
 Until on the right hand 
 
 Moved a dark ocean, 
 
 Moonless and starless ; 
 
 Forms flitted over it. 
 
 On the left were ice-mountains. 
 
 The wind's thong 
 
 Forever swung. 
 
 Dread was the noise of ice. 
 
Calligraphy." 
 
"CALLIGRAPHY." 21 
 
 Calligraphy^ 
 
 T N the Japanese pictures I saw what exceed- 
 ingly pleased me : 
 
 Rivers ran over the roofs, clouds intercepted 
 the soil ; 
 
 Men were inanities, maids were all of them 
 pretty young simpletons, 
 
 And an elaborate care counted the hairs of the 
 head ; 
 
 Dragons and demon-gangs leered at a shudder- 
 ing welkin ; 
 
 Perfectly accurate fish perfectly accurate 
 scales. 
 
 Is not the sun of gold and is not the moon 
 of crystal ? 
 
22 "CALLIGRAPHY." 
 
 Then we will have them so painted and stuck 
 
 on the wall. 
 
 This is the law of Art, and now I can under- 
 stand it : 
 Stray in a million ways, but always with 
 
 constant mind. 
 Put in nothing too much, though you show 
 
 feather-filaments ; 
 Nature knows her affairs, so you should know 
 
 yours too. 
 Dead convention itself is better than nerveless 
 
 daubing, 
 But the restraining grip on a powerful horse is 
 
 the thing. 
 To the informing eye not hindered by bungling 
 
 outlines, 
 Battle, advance, and retreat are even in splashes 
 
 of rain. 
 
Michel Angelo's David. 
 
MICHEL ANGELO'S DAVID. 25 
 
 Michel Angela's David. 
 
 T F from that forehead starry light should rise 
 By some device think you would that be 
 
 Art? 
 
 I almost think so. 
 
 Thou terrible ! That such a one as thou 
 Should tread the World's dust, let down thus to 
 
 walk 
 
 Divine amongst confused and heathen men, 
 Much signifies. (Shout, wastes !) This is God's 
 boy, 
 
 B 
 
26 MICHEL ANGELO'S DAVID. 
 
 And ever the o'erarching Destiny 
 Moves over him, and ever murmuring moves 
 As the whole flood of the great upper air. 
 Com'st from that terrene brook that smooth'd 
 
 the stone 
 
 And lookt young, but was immemorial ? 
 O rather from what high empyreal founts, 
 (Shout, deserts !) from what sources of the stars, 
 Outpouring empire, did this shepherd stray ? 
 
Apollo, The Neatherd. 
 
APOLLO, THE NEATHERD 29 
 
 Apollo, The Neatherd. 
 
 YVTITH care on his coat, 
 
 And shame on his shoon, 
 Who knows such a note, 
 
 And begets such a boon ? 
 
 Through the rents in his rags there is streaming 
 The sun, in its glinting and gleaming 
 
 On the grass before noon. 
 
 n. 
 
 As he minded the cows 
 
 A calling began 
 In the branches and boughs : 
 
 " God Apollo ! " it ran. 
 Aloof the land-cliff, wan and hollow, 
 Repeated " Apollo ! Apollo ! " 
 
 But to man he was man. 
 
30 APOLLO, THE NEATHERD. 
 
 in. 
 
 " O, lend me thy pipe 
 
 For the rest of the day, 
 For the season is ripe, 
 
 And the makers of hay " 
 (Said a youth with fair gesture advancing) 
 " Have need of a tune to their dancing ; 
 
 Well as thou I can play." 
 
 IV. 
 
 So he lent him his flute, 
 
 But he gave him also 
 To walk with dumb brute 
 
 In a weft as of woe. 
 
 The god guileful flew back to his splendour, 
 And the man with a melody tender 
 
 Is betrayed here below. 
 
The Pedant. 
 
THE PEDANT. 33 
 
 The Pedant. 
 
 HP HE World is alive, it will never be still ; 
 
 The sea is a bit of the planet barefaced, 
 And the houses and streets that men build at 
 
 will 
 
 Are but a vesture momently placed, 
 Are but a dress 
 
 On the Earth- Mother's awful nakedness ; 
 And the rocks that are hurrying down in rain, 
 And the shimmering plain, 
 
34 THE PEDANT. 
 
 And the joys of trees and the struggles of seas 
 
 That cease and begin, 
 
 Are the Life, the Body, yea, the Skin. 
 
 A man with a spade and mattock and book 
 Buried the World because it was dead, 
 And over it pattering prayers he said. 
 Black was his coat and his look. 
 He was sure that his thought was true, 
 That he held the key of the complex Whole, 
 And his theory of it was quite complete. 
 (Sad that it was as it was, and great rue, 
 As you saw by his face in the street, 
 Set with his iron imaginings 
 Superior-sad to the frame of things). 
 And firm was he 
 For the sexton's fee ; 
 And accordingly there was nought to do 
 But to bow with mind and soul 
 In the house of the man with the mattock, the 
 
 book, 
 And the spade, and the key of the complex 
 
 Whole. 
 
 And all were bowing, until a child, 
 Simple and mild, 
 
THE PEDANT. 35 
 
 Cried out: " O mother, there's a poor dead man 
 
 Who first dug his grave before he died ! 
 
 O mother dear," (the little one cried) 
 
 " I love not the sight, and I never can." 
 
 Then the mother said, "Come, dear, come away, 
 
 For the beautiful World is alive to-day." 
 
Lamps and Stars. 
 
 - 
 
LAMPS AND STARS. 39 
 
 Lamps and Stars. 
 
 CTILL causeless is Almighty Thought, 
 
 Without beginning, without end ; 
 Each after each all things are wrought 
 
 And to their purpose gladly tend. 
 The planets in their courses greet 
 The lamps that shine in this poor street. 
 
 And who shall slight one thing as small 
 And praise another thing as great ? 
 
 Know ye the Thought of God is all, 
 And blessed they that on Him wait. 
 
 These stones Heaven's firmament are worth, 
 
 For they have borne a saint of Earth. 
 
40 LAMPS AND STARS. 
 
 Ceaseless perfection, strong and bright, 
 
 In lowly imperfection dwells, 
 And from the caverns of the night 
 
 The everlasting Light upwells. 
 God left the sages to their fears 
 And whispers Truth in children's ears. 
 
 King of the Earth, grasp all below, 
 And less than nothing now is thine. 
 
 King of the Earth, come down in woe, 
 Stars on the manger-cradle shine, 
 
 Stars on the manger-cradle dwell ; 
 
 Thou Mary-mother, guard him well. 
 
 These flowers upon the pavement cast 
 Are for thy feet. Thy little son 
 
 Shall spread the ancient Word at last 
 That on the high priest's forehead shone. 
 
 Horses at work the Word shall bear 
 
 Upon the bridles that they wear. 
 
Queen Rose. 
 
QUEEN ROSE. 43 
 
 ueen 
 
 Rose. 
 
 D ED rose that loves the chosen breast 
 With sweet-sure potency beguiling, 
 Joy-heavy to outshine the rest, 
 
 So queenly bowing, queenly smiling. 
 
 (March came along with romp and whirl, 
 But July is maturely human ; 
 
 The cowslip was a slender girl, 
 
 But you, my dear, you are a woman). 
 
44 QUEEN ROSE. 
 
 As high you reign the flowers above, 
 Your royal command I waited, seeking, 
 
 But, madam, you had told your love, 
 And so you blushed instead of speaking. 
 
The Noon Star. 
 
THE NOON STAR. 47 
 
 The Noon Star. 
 
 T^HE noon sky reigned unfathomed, deeply- 
 clear, 
 
 Unmottled by the smallest argent cloud, 
 The bright black huts familiar stood and dear, 
 
 And close beside them was a little crowd 
 Of fishermen and children. I drew near, 
 
 Seeing them gaze above ; and then, not loud, 
 But with a cheerful reverence, one man said 
 " Look up and see that wonder overhead." 
 
48 THE NOON STAR. 
 
 We stood within the shadow. I suppose 
 No day had ever shone with fairer light 
 
 Since with a boy's soul the first Day uprose, 
 His girdle fastened by the matron Night. 
 
 The high sun gloried in his strength, as those 
 Who fulfil both a task and a delight ; 
 
 And deep within that zenith, and afar 
 
 In that intensest azure, was one star. 
 
 Upon the bluish shingle a brown net 
 
 Lay, and the sea with tender wooing prest 
 
 The uncoy beach as still as those who yet 
 Are heaven-haven'd from the world's unrest. 
 
 " This star," the fisher said, " in light is set, 
 That with long spells of calm we may be 
 blest." 
 
 But to myself there came most joyously 
 
 The knowledge that it was a gift to me. 
 
In the London Street, 
 
IN THE LONDON STREET 51 
 
 In the London Street. 
 
 """TWO angels at the dawn of day 
 
 Stood watching in the London street 
 Beside a sleeper's curtained room. 
 The flowers on the sill were meet. 
 
 The dull bricks caught the splendid glow, 
 But I perceived that not alone 
 
 They glinted from the glance of day, 
 But from the angels' swords that shone. 
 
52 IN THE LONDON STREET. 
 
 Reflecting shone, as fiery brands, 
 Yet tempered adamant and bright ; 
 
 The rays, straight-darting, moved along, 
 As eyelash- sparkles in the light. 
 
 I saw and knew God's messengers, 
 White-vestured in the austere gray, 
 
 Strong and immovable they stood 
 To light again our solar day. 
 
 And one was Truth. Still at his word 
 The common fact became sublime ; 
 
 He did unite in holiness 
 The past unto the present time. 
 
 The other, Beauty, stood beside 
 His fellow in divine control, 
 
 And was unto his shining peer 
 As is a body to its soul. 
 
The Midnight Cock. 
 
THE MIDNIGHT COCK. 55 
 
 The Midnight Cock. 
 
 sepulchral is the cope of midnight. 
 Can a small shriller lift that leaden coffin ? 
 I am aweary, the proclaimer, weary, 
 
 Weary but dauntless. 
 
 " Kokko " I'm called through all the land of 
 
 Afric ; 
 Praised by Dan Chaucer, morning- man of 
 
 England ; 
 
 Played I my part in the sublimest drama, 
 Shamer of Peter. 
 
 Sleepy I crow, but still I crow though sleepy ; 
 In a few hours I shall possess my spirit, 
 Fire up the vast with one small spark of 
 laughter, 
 
 Call up the sun-ball ! 
 
56 THE MIDNIGHT COCK. 
 
 Now o'er the world the sprites of evil ravin, 
 Weigh down my soul, but shall not choke my 
 
 outcry, 
 
 " Kuckuru Ru," till all my far-off kinsmen 
 Answer " Kururu." 
 
 What can a little bird or man achieve more ? 
 Singing remembered love, I chase the darkness, 
 Thrusting aside obsceneness and oppression, 
 Prophet of Morning. 
 
 Swarms of small chirpers, little singers, poets, 
 All ye that copy, having nought within you, 
 Copy (you can't) my mystic tragi-comic 
 
 " Kuckuru Ruru ! " 
 
 And if my tones should imitate the thunder, 
 Or by revulsion call up solemn feelings, 
 Don't be afraid. My function is to govern 
 Six buxom houris. 
 
Strength in Weakness. 
 
STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS. 59 
 
 Strength in Weakness. 
 
 the veils of the Immortals 
 Ancient is the strange tradition, 
 As they come from Heaven's portals 
 On some lone terrestrial mission. 
 
 Watch the sea's exulting horses 
 God is in the fountain's lavement. 
 
 Scan the storm's assailing forces 
 He, elusive, walks the pavement. 
 
60 STRENGTH IN WEAKNESS 
 
 Excellent the sun advances, 
 Yet is less than many another 
 
 Sun in midnight's pale expanses 
 Wan as brow of nursing mother. 
 
 Not in priestly shams the Highest, 
 (Ghastly sin of ghostly mumming) 
 
 They are still to God the nighest 
 Who perceive His quiet coming. 
 
The Crystal Window. 
 
THE CRYSTAL WINDOW. 63 
 
 The Crystal Window. 
 
 """THE words of the great Sultan. From the 
 
 world 
 
 (I said in youth) I hold me hence unstained. 
 In antres, in an outpost of the soul 
 Kept by grave men, one noon I fell asleep. 
 
 Lo, in my visions on my bed, a pile 
 Whose cupolas, whose minarets, whose towers, 
 In myriad-fretted forms, as if the stone 
 Were plastic to the ocean-play of thought, 
 From Earth's deep matrix lifted to the clouds 
 That are unrolled beneath the throne of God. 
 
64 THE CRYSTAL WINDOW. 
 
 Inwoven with the traceries all about, 
 I read strange characters : " This is the House 
 Of Human Thought." This then, I said, is 
 
 mine, 
 
 My treasure-palace and my wisdom-store ; 
 Mine, for the interscription indicates 
 The complement of my humanity. 
 No longer peaked in tents, I justly rise 
 To my own stature, and behold Myself ! 
 I entered, and as when one first inherits, 
 Strode the unpeopled halls ; when lo, in one 
 An ample window glowed with crystal tints 
 And bore the mystic saying : " Know Thyself." 
 
 Know. A high enterprise. How might I 
 
 know ? 
 
 I fell to study. Thousand volumes there 
 Re-worded Man, as sultan, saint, recluse, 
 Or father of the poor, or sword of God 
 Upstaying mighty states ; or falling thence 
 To tire upon the wheel of five poor spokes ; 
 Or thence arisen, sprinkling the hot dust 
 Upon his head, giving the last small cruse, 
 Or breaking it upon the rock to Heaven. 
 
THE CRYSTAL WINDOW. 65 
 
 Also I pondered elder secrets, told 
 By dealers at first-hand with mystic powers 
 Great Solomon or Agur lowly-wise ; 
 Sabean wisdom of empyreal strengths, 
 The stark loins of Arcturus and his sons, 
 The Southern chambers, mighty Mazzaroth, 
 Sweet Pleiades, Orion terrible. 
 For years I eager read (the years of dreams) 
 And still mine eyes were fixed upon the books, 
 Admiring all the wisdom of mankind 
 For that it was my wisdom and myself. 
 So, like the sitting Memnon by old Nile, 
 I sat, adouble angle on a chair, 
 And watched the ages of the Universe. 
 At length I looked about, and saw it dark ; 
 A small lamp flickered. 
 
 A great Presence stood, 
 An angel with a brow of regal wrath, 
 Silent. 
 
 I bowed the head and begged his speech. 
 " O pardon. Have I not fulfilled the law ? 
 Look, messenger, for thou canst see the heart, 
 Whom have I injured ? From the firmament 
 Though thou hast come, I say it even to thee 
 
66 THE CRYSTAL WINDOW. 
 
 Within this heart is no ungenerous thought 
 To the oppressed of earth, or to God's poor." 
 
 Thus desperate, and for that royal blood 
 Fulfils my veins, I raised my soul 'gainst him, 
 Who from his height made answer : 
 
 " Get thee hence." 
 
 (One deep bell sounded whose residual tones 
 Pervaded all the palace). " Get thee hence. 
 The end of Man is action and not thought. 
 Did the Almighty make thy human soul 
 In jest ? How hast thou helped thy fellow- 
 men ? 
 
 Where is thy work ? Innumerable forms 
 In darkness sit thy brothers ; children, too, 
 And even these shall be thy judges." 
 
 Far 
 
 The world beyond the desert seemed to sigh. 
 The sleepy cock crew. Suddenly a chill 
 Of bitter air shook all my flesh. I glanced 
 Aloft can Man forget ? The window there 
 Was opened outwards, gone its blazoned words, 
 Gone the gay characters of " Know Thyself " : 
 Instead, behold, I saw through that embrasure 
 The limitless abyss of starry night. 
 
Dawn. 
 
DAWN. 69 
 
 Dawn. 
 
 [SPITALFIELDS.] 
 
 RAY is the steeple austere in the still oper- 
 
 ations of morning, 
 Surely a house of hands, yet surely akin to 
 
 the cloud. 
 Far below are the tremulous trees that rustle 
 
 and glitter, 
 Down by the portico's gloom and the sleepy 
 
 awakening smoke. 
 Pigeon-companionships with a beautiful free 
 
 libration 
 
70 DAWN. 
 
 Float, then flutter and fall, circle and swerve 
 
 and sway. 
 Over the market-place (but everything hangs 
 
 on an eyelash) 
 Strides the spirit that holds the leash of the 
 
 striving rain. 
 Time I see, and Occasion and Chance in the 
 
 paths and doorways 
 Sentinels ready to warn, or soldiers to follow 
 
 the will. 
 Havilah glows with a yellow gleam in the river 
 
 of Pison. 
 Steady the horses step, lumber the ponderous 
 
 wains. 
 
The Sleeping City. 
 
THE SLEEPING CITY. 73 
 
 The Sleeping City. 
 
 TTHE stars on their little gold threads 
 
 Over the east of the town, 
 The stars on their little gold threads 
 
 Seem to be hanging down. 
 Two circles of light are set, 
 
 The moon as cold as a polar steep, 
 And the yellow disc of the steeple dial 
 
 That wakes in the City of Sleep. 
 
 n. 
 
 A voice calls in the Night 
 
 To the numberless sleeping souls, 
 A voice calls in the Night 
 
 When the bell of the steeple tolls : 
 Bring back, bring back the primal age 
 
 When men could be merry and sing, 
 Or weep like the young impetuous rain 
 
 That blesses the fields of Spring. 
 D 
 
74 THE SLEEPING CITY. 
 
 m. 
 The sleepers answer in sleep, 
 
 (They are more than eye can see) 
 They answer in their sleep : 
 
 Alas it can never be, 
 For now we are under a spell, 
 
 And the truest tears and the merriest mirth 
 This many a year, as we know well, 
 
 Have departed from the earth. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Along the long dark streets 
 
 A spirit sweeps in rapid flight, 
 Along the long dark streets 
 
 And the pathways of the Night, 
 And the great roads of the Night, 
 
 And the lamp-rows ranging far, 
 And the mercy of God is in his heart, 
 
 And on his brow a star. 
 
 v. 
 The clear star sheds its beam, 
 
 Eternal, undefiled, 
 The clear star sheds its beam 
 
 On many a sleeping child. 
 In a moment the heavenly light is gone, 
 
 Save from heart, down deep, 
 And the pallid moon and the yellow dial 
 
 Wake in the City of Sleep. 
 
At the Fair. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 77 
 
 At the Fair. 
 
 [A PHANTASMAGORY.] 
 
 SCENE I. The Primal World. Two Angelic 
 Spirits. 
 
 IST SPIRIT. 
 What stir is this ? 
 
 2ND SPIRIT. 
 
 Huge daughters of the griff 
 Wrenching at shivering canes. Below, two 
 
 beasts, 
 
 Uprisen warriors, struggle in the slime, 
 Churning black ooze with red blood. 
 
 IST SPIRIT. 
 
 Horrible ! 
 
 Pale steam arises from their forest-lair 
 And dims our great star. In the firmament 
 A comet rises. It is nearly night. 
 
78 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 Did God make all these creatures and then set 
 Them to destroy ? 
 
 2ND SPIRIT. 
 
 How shall I speak aright ? 
 Know this, dear sister God did make this 
 
 world, 
 
 And in the large and ample round of it 
 Works ever forward ; but works, too, in us, 
 And shall work in mankind. If ever blurs 
 And imperfections cry to thy fair soul 
 Let their revulsion call to God in thee. 
 When holy Silence by harsh trumpet-blast 
 Is shattered, rise to battle for our God. 
 
 IST SPIRIT. 
 
 Waft we on further. In the distance, hark, 
 Their roaring's like the sea. The arid tops 
 Of hills are soon passed by. Why look, look 
 now, [Pointing to the comet. 
 
 The sullen blaze. 
 
 2ND SPIRIT. 
 
 It reaches with large hand 
 As grasping stars. Haply it is a sign, 
 Colossal portent, bending over Earth 
 Five spreading digits. [Exeunt. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 79 
 
 SCENE II. The same. Incubi and other evil 
 spirits. A gloomy light. 
 
 IST VOICE. 
 
 Proud with the yellow anointing of Euphrates 
 What is't you drag ? 
 
 2ND VOICE. 
 
 Flesh for the altar-fire. 
 
 JST VOICE. 
 
 Why, all of you are deckt, and here's a tribe 
 With pranksome nightshade on their tresses 
 stuck 
 
 2ND VOICE. 
 
 Not stuck. It grows there freely. 
 
 IST VOICE. 
 
 Grows ? 
 
 2ND VOICE. 
 
 Yes, grows, 
 As naturally as your horns on you. 
 
 \_A loud laugh. 
 We've hunted beasts all day. Come on, old 
 
 fellow, 
 
 And join our orgie round the fire to-night. 
 [Enter LILITH. 
 
8o AT THE FAIR. 
 
 LILITH. 
 
 Cease all your noisy folly. My achievement 
 Has topped your dullard's conquest over beasts. 
 
 INCUBUS (to a female spirit.) 
 Cannot you see the mistress ? Silence, there, 
 Or she will score your pretty face for you. 
 
 A SINGLE VOICE. 
 
 Hail, Lilith ! 
 
 OMNES. 
 
 Lilith, queen and mistress, hail ! 
 
 LILITH. 
 
 Drag that one to the altar who bows not 
 Before the primal bride. Now have I wound 
 Into man's race, as mists of death inlay 
 With creeping guile the scarped mountain-side. 
 They pass with night, but Lilith charms the 
 
 thought 
 
 Of men unto the ending of the world. 
 I and my serpent Simulation live, 
 And the great sunlit planet spins its course, 
 I governing its master. Man know this, 
 The vast of nature ? Little could he know 
 Of it before, but now a sort of boar 
 Whose brain is a most admirable tusk 
 To rend roots for his gorge : the subtle fool. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 81 
 
 Come, all ye spirits, let's see Lilith's trail 
 Fetch the Earth Matron with your dizzy spells 
 And bid her now rend back the clinging folds 
 That hide futurity. Sudden and brief. 
 
 [The spirits, with certain elaborate incantations 
 and painful labour, summon the Earth 
 Spirit, who appears as a noble matron. The 
 storm which had arisen while the spells were 
 proceeding at length subsides, but there is 
 still only a gloomy light. 
 
 EARTH SPIRIT. 
 
 So you compel me hither and I come. 
 Know this, what is unnatural is brief. 
 My bosom shall warm many bairns. Of these 
 A few poor shadows flit before your sense, 
 And are not. Shall it joy you thus to see 
 Your marring of my folk ? I tell you this : 
 Brief is this timeless vision, long the fact, 
 But everlasting your abhorred fall. 
 
 LlLITH. 
 
 Play not the chorus, dame. We claim the scene. 
 Burgeon your drowsy capsules, silly seeds, 
 Flash into red the unripe fruit of Time, 
 Let us digest it for ourselves. 
 
82 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 EARTH SPIRIT. 
 
 See, then. 
 
 \_A mist, moving in itself, gathers into dim 
 forms before the trees. These forms slowly 
 become clearer. 
 
 FEMALE SPIRIT. 
 Larvae or embryos are these ? 
 
 LlLITH. 
 
 Not so, 
 
 But shades of the unfashioned latter world. 
 You're thinking of the wrong end of the chain. 
 Be quiet. 
 
 [The inner scene, which is brighter than that in 
 which it is set, represents a fair on the 
 borders of a large town. All sorts of 
 people pass and repass. Shows and booths. 
 A fiend disguised as a Pierrot is talking to 
 a youth. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 Gay is the place and the summer eve with a 
 
 beautiful devilment is rife. 
 See the naphtha lamps and the dusty boots of 
 
 the girls we are just in the height of life. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 83 
 
 YOUTH. 
 Look at that girl with the beautiful lip, the 
 
 upper lip so tenderly swelling 
 Maid for maternity fitted, she, and the strength 
 
 and hope of a children's dwelling. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 Nonsense ! She'll not see thirty again ; but a 
 
 virgin certain, that's just her doom ; 
 No babes she'll finger, but shams on straw, 
 
 virginity dried in a milliner's room. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 It's sad. I think such a one should sit on the 
 
 milking stool, or walk in the wealth 
 Of the infinite odours that waft from meads. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 
 No doubt it would much improve her health, 
 But a certain morbidezza, you know, is best for 
 
 the waist-tied persons who wait 
 On the high noblesse ; for when did you see a 
 peony on a fashion-plate ? 
 
 [A Bishop passes. 
 PIERROT. 
 
 Behold the reverend bishop of souls, and his 
 gaiters, truly a quaint device. 
 
84 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 YOUTH (looking at some pictures on a stall). 
 My eye was on Judas holding the bag and 
 betraying the Son of Man for a price. 
 
 [FEMALE SPIRIT. 
 All this is strange to us. 
 
 LILITH. 
 
 But somewhat I 
 Intuitively rede it. Certainly 
 The girls are pretty, and the men most wise !] 
 
 HYPNOTIST (at an open booth). 
 Ladies and gentlemen, come here. I make 
 By the hypnotic art all people wise, 
 Uttering their own thought, not another's. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 How 
 
 If they have none o' their own ? 
 HYPNOTIST. 
 
 Why, all have some, 
 
 Though some have vastly less than they suppose. 
 
 [A laugh. 
 
 Walk up ! Your crania are transparent ! Hi ! 
 How easily do I out-R6ntgen Rontgen ! 
 He shows the bones, but I the very mind. 
 [/I crowd gather. Politician sits in chair 
 and is hypnotised. 
 
Ax THE FAIR. 85 
 
 POLITICIAN. 
 You've given me a gift. 
 
 HYPNOTIST. 
 
 What is it, sir ? 
 
 POLITICIAN. 
 A ruddy apple. 
 
 HYPNOTIST. 
 
 And where did it grow ? 
 
 POLITICIAN. 
 
 By the Dead Sea. O, let me escape from this ! 
 [A confusion amongst the people. 
 
 HYPNOTIST. 
 
 Be quiet, ladies, now do. For I assure you 
 That this is strictly scientific. Hush ! 
 
 POLITICIAN. 
 
 I have done much, and clambered, rung by rung, 
 Copied and copied, narrowed and refined, 
 Distinguished, represented, magnified, 
 Ponderously rolled sonorous monologues, 
 Then thinned and whittled with a spry grimace, 
 Word-painting every serviceable lie 
 To flash on human receptivity. 
 Thus mouthing have I new-created Nature, 
 Harnessed her neatly to the party car 
 And juggernauted the electorates, 
 
86 Ax THE FAIR. 
 
 Cheered and bribed up to lord it thus, car-high, 
 
 Condition one : that the first brains the 
 
 wheels 
 
 Should crush out were my own. And so aloft, 
 Mock-humble, crownless, and as if I saw, 
 Bereft of truth I kinged humanity 
 And jolted over jubilating fools. 
 
 HYPNOTIST. 
 The gentleman is not well. I will reverse 
 
 The passes. [He does so. 
 
 POLITICIAN. 
 
 Very interesting, that. 
 What did I say ? 
 
 YOKEL. 
 
 We could not understand it. 
 YOUTH. 
 
 No wonder. But this mass of unformed speech 
 May hold some glimpses. Haply he has lost 
 In his life-quest of the Expedient, one 
 Small thing the eye that can discern the True. 
 
 HYPNOTIST (aside}. 
 He is a secondary gentleman. 
 I've seen the world and there are myriads such. 
 In fact, I think we all are secondary 
 Since he is. I have phonographed his talk. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 87 
 
 YOUTH (to Pierrot}. 
 
 The pretty crowd stare frightened at this show. 
 What glimpses into depths are in girls' eyes ! 
 
 PIERROT. 
 Why, the poor things are mostly shallow. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 Yet 
 
 Here methought sudden passed Assyria, 
 Dark-sweeping, mystic, soon lost in the crowd. 
 There brownly flashed a barbarous-beauteous 
 
 Hun, 
 Strength confident, with voluptuous-peeping 
 
 eyes 
 
 Flagrantly sweet. Then in authority 
 See Mistress Rome with regnant equal mind, 
 All girls. And best of all, here's one, not tall, 
 But steady in her gait (her footfalls seem, 
 
 Like Venus's, her one defect, and yet 
 
 That realism makes her more ideal, 
 And the great artist Nature reaches stars 
 Sic itur this star's pebbles, glebes and seas, 
 And Momus in the fable was a fool) 
 Exalted-lovely, this one, near-removed, 
 As who should say : " I hold a future world, 
 
88 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 Peaceful and wondrous ; but are you the one 
 Worthy to understand it ? Heights on heights 
 I know, and deeps in deeps ; and keep the key 
 Of a great garden full of sacred flowers 
 Which only I have lookt at ... and the sun." 
 Say, may not such a one for England stand ? 
 Conscious or not, the strangest potencies 
 Dwell in these maids. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 
 I was young like you once. 
 Workgirls are these, with cotton shreds on 
 
 skirt ; 
 
 In commerce they are just material, 
 The mechanism and the sexless " hands." 
 (An aspect full of baseness. I do not, 
 Myself, approve of it). But take it thus : 
 The lion's look is mock authority, 
 Most useful in his foraging ; and the girl, 
 By nature strikes not only with allurement, 
 But also with respect, to tame brute man, 
 Who need not yet be abject for all that. 
 Just put the eye-trick down at what it's worth 
 Nature's stage-property. It's all illusion. 
 Talk to the pretty creatures, and you'll see 
 The canvas and the wood of the coulisses. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 89 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 Why then am I illusion. But you're wrong. 
 I will admit this : Man is beautiful 
 In his right action, for he's active. Woman 
 Is passive but she's always beautiful. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 
 Why, your own words recalling, haply I 
 May teach you wisdom, cynic though I be : 
 Assyrians, Huns and Romans are they all, 
 True conquerors vi et armis ; what you dream, 
 Of some high blessing or some future world 
 Of moral power, you'll never find in Woman. 
 Straighten the Rib, it breaks. Leave it alone, 
 (Mahomet says) it's naturally crooked. 
 I will allow a few distraught exceptions, 
 Rigidly frigid as a glacial epoch, 
 (Say, may not such as these for Greenland 
 
 stand ?) 
 
 Who give out tracts, are always thirty-three, 
 And lead the soul to sempiternal gloom. 
 No. You will find the intellectual man 
 To-day upon the rock of Pessimism, 
 It can't be helped, mon ami ; so, that cold 
 And grey inevitable, if you're wise, 
 You will admit, and seek the wine of life. 
 
go AT THE FAIR. 
 
 I'll tell you what : Trust none of these at all, 
 I need not say betray, for you will find 
 The pretty gipsies wicked as yourself. 
 
 Now, if I were your age, and [Whispers. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 Pierrot, one thing you cannot gauge : the soul 
 Of him you chatter to. What creeds may rise 
 Or fall, the frame of things is so combined 
 That even Nature, rising to her height, 
 Sweeps all your trash away. There is no thing 
 Beneath the sky more sacred and more pure 
 Than the true reverence of the human heart. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 
 Sounds well, no doubt. Give me a comic song. 
 [A Ballad Singer, to the accompaniment of a 
 banjo, sings to the girls. 
 BALLAD. 
 And it is all for you, dear heart, 
 
 I light the little lamp, 
 And at the window watch apart 
 Above the street all dark and damp. 
 
 For the street is dark and damp 
 And the wind is raw and chill, 
 But I live to light the little lamp 
 And wait your coming still. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 91 
 
 In my heart the passion burning 
 
 Will never die away, 
 On the sill to speak my yearning 
 A balsam watches all the day. 
 
 If you should not come by day, 
 
 O then this little light 
 Sheds as from my own heart its ray 
 To guide you here by night. 
 
 Still the meek lamp shall faithful burn, 
 
 And the humble balsam sweet 
 Await the hour of your return, 
 Await the blessing of your feet, 
 
 The blessing of your feet, 
 
 And your gentle, gentle eye, 
 Tender as flowers in the wheat 
 And pale stars in the sky. 
 
 BALLAD SINGER. 
 
 Now any of these songs a penny, ladies, 
 Or three for twopence. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 
 Pierrot, see the rogue 
 
 Charm pennies from their knotted handker- 
 chiefs. 
 One misery of the modern world is this : 
 
92 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 So many patient, sweet Cordelias 
 
 Peaked, bound and starved by Gonerils and 
 
 Regans, 
 So many Cinderellas in the slums. [They pass. 
 
 A LORD and MILLIONAIRE enter. 
 
 LORD (at whom unknown to him the HYPNOTIST 
 in the distance is making passes). 
 
 So manyferce nature? on my lands, 
 Landloopers running young and seeming free, 
 Yet I, to eke my feeble thews and brain, 
 Have rent, which grasps the instep, drags 'em 
 
 down, 
 The betes humains. 
 
 MILLIONAIRE. 
 
 Your lordship speaks of lands ; 
 You'll come on Sunday to my shooting-box ? 
 
 LORD. 
 
 On Sunday ? Well, one has to keep the forms. 
 A man in my position is expected 
 To set example, and one's private views 
 Need not be inconveniently displayed. 
 Our children's wedding is a better time. 
 
AT THE FAIR. 93 
 
 DEMAGOGUE (to a crowd). 
 I tell you you're all equal. Stint your work, 
 Vote for our party. Cry u Down with the 
 Lords." 
 
 VOICES. 
 Down with the Lords ! 
 
 YOUTH (aside). 
 
 Even so. Opinion, doubly false, divides, 
 As Sadducees opposed the Pharisees ; 
 Add both their scantlings, yet the truth is far, 
 And the age, like a riven boat, sinks down. 
 
 PIERROT (aside). 
 
 Yet his chief meditation was of love, 
 And he would teach me teach the Devil him- 
 self 
 
 The grounds of virtue, which of course I know, 
 For every one is just a ground of vice. 
 This is the great reformer of the age 
 (I can't help laughing) and he moons about, 
 Caught with the sham of bead eyes, and still 
 
 thinking 
 
 Of infinite things besides, and doing nought. 
 And yet he baffles me, for by his brain 
 He won't subdue the world to his desire. 
 
94 AT THE FAIR. 
 
 The momentary emmet stands aloof ; 
 
 He has his being outside Time, and so 
 
 Ridiculously wastes his time in thinking. 
 
 Well, that's my side, his impotence. And yet 
 
 Of all the futile rascals in the world 
 
 None is his fellow. I am much annoyed. 
 
 Give me a good knave or a downright saint, 
 
 And I known how to take 'em if I fail 
 
 Or they outrun me well, the game is played 
 
 After the rules, and one may smile and chat ; 
 
 But this one does not enter. O Inertia, 
 
 Pyramidal Inertia there you stand, 
 
 Just when the world is humming round about, 
 
 too. 
 
 YOUTH. 
 I catch your words. The world is humming 
 
 round, 
 
 And merrily you think, but not so I. 
 Choking in lethal shams behold the World, 
 Whilst cloacas of rhetoric disembogue, 
 And somewhence rumours come that Heaven 
 
 is not, 
 
 And we must decently pretend it is. 
 Still, still the smirk of the official Christian 
 Betrays the Best in mankind day by day. 
 
Ax THE FAIR. 95 
 
 Men sell like sheep, or run about like wolves. 
 
 Our priests are lawyers, lawyers the real priests, 
 
 The foremost leaders now are the directors, 
 
 And now at last the very thought of Man, 
 
 His inner Self, is false and secondary. 
 
 Some hope from diverse strivings after Truth : 
 
 From Cant alone is infinite despair. 
 
 That is the sin that cannot be forgiven, 
 
 And now we have it ; and the world falls down. 
 
 {The crowd thins off. A few children are seen, 
 skipping. 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 All in together, 
 
 In all sorts of weather, 
 
 When the wind blows we all go together. 
 
 I saw Pe-ter 
 
 Looking out of win-der 
 
 Veri-ly, veri-ly 
 
 We all fall down. 
 
 Windy weather, 
 
 Stormy weather, 
 
 [A distant noise is heard, as of thunder. The 
 PIERROT is making off. 
 
 YOUTH (to PIERROT). 
 A decent way to bid adieu. 
 
96 Ax THE FAIR. 
 
 PIERROT. 
 
 Adieu ? 
 
 'Tis not my word. In times of public trouble 
 The wise man simply troubles for himself. 
 That is the noise of cannon. 
 
 [The booths of the fair are now filled with 
 soldiers, and assume the appearance oj 
 military tents. Some mothers run in and 
 carry off the children. 
 
 [LiLiTH (advancing). 
 
 What is this ? 
 
 The whole scene changes. Stay, I bid you 
 stay ! 
 
 THE EARTH SPIRIT. 
 
 The phantasms of the future will not speak. 
 You talk to air. Yet you dissolve the spell. 
 More is not given you to know.] 
 
 UXW1N BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON. 
 
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