■^rz: 
 
 
 I ■n'-f^.'/J 'f yt^rr n
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 r( ..'-^
 
 STUDIES IN SONG
 
 WORKS BY MR. SWINBURNE. 
 
 The Queen Mother and 
 
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 William Blake. 
 
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 Songs of Tzvo Nations. 
 
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 Note of an English Re- 
 
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 Sofigs of the Spring- tides. 
 
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 CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly, W.
 
 STUDIES IN SONG 
 
 BY 
 
 ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 
 
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 ^onbon 
 
 
 CHATTO 
 
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 WINDUS, 
 
 1880 
 
 PICCADILLY 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY 
 
 SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE 
 
 AND PARLIAMENT STREET 
 
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 <5 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF WALTER SAVAGE 
 
 LANDOR .1 
 
 !:; GRAND CHORUS OF BIRDS FROM ARISTOPHANES . 67 
 
 ^ OFF SHORE 75 
 
 AFTER NINE YEARS 95 
 
 ^ FOR A PORTRAIT OF FELICE ORSINI . . . . 103 
 
 W EVENING ON THE BROADS 107 
 
 THE EMPEROR'S PROGRESS 125 
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF ALCILIA 131 
 
 THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY 135 
 
 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA 139 
 
 SIX YEARS OLD 145 
 
 A PARTING SONG 151 
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA 161 

 
 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY 
 
 OF 
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR 
 
 Born January 30TH, 1775 
 Died September 17TH, 1864
 
 There is delight in singing, though none hear 
 Beside the singer : and there is dehght 
 In praising, though the praiser sit alone 
 And see the praised far off him, far above. 
 
 Landor.
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO MRS. LYNN LINTON. 
 
 Da ughter in spirit elect and consecrate 
 
 By love and reverence of the Olympian sire 
 Wliom I too loved and worshipped, seeing so great, 
 
 And found so gracious toward my long desire 
 To bid that love in song before his gate 
 
 Sound, and my lute be loyal to his lyre, 
 To none save one it now tnay dedicate 
 Song's new burnt-offering on a century s pyre. 
 And though the gift be light 
 As ashes in metis sight. 
 Left by the flame of no ethereal fire, 
 Yet, for his worthier sake 
 Than words are worthless, take 
 This wreath of words ere yet their hour expire : 
 So, haply, from sotne heaven above. 
 He, seeing, 7nay set next yours my sacrifice of love. 
 
 May 24, 1880. 
 
 B 2
 
 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 
 
 Five years beyond an hundred years have seen 
 
 Their winters, white as faith's and age's hue, 
 Melt, smiling through brief tears that broke between. 
 
 And hope's young conquering colours reared anew, 
 Since, on the day whose edge for kings made keen 
 
 Smote sharper once than ever storm-wind blew, 
 A head predestined for the girdling green 
 
 That laughs at lightning all the seasons through, 
 Nor frost or change can sunder 
 Its crown untouched of thunder
 
 6 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Leaf from least leaf of all its leaves that grew 
 Alone for brows too bold 
 For storm to sear of old, 
 Elect to shine in time's eternal view, 
 Rose on the verge of radiant life 
 Between the winds and sunbeams mingling love with 
 strife. 
 
 iThe darkling day that gave its bloodred birth 
 
 To Milton's white republic undefiled 
 That might endure so few fleet years on earth 
 
 Bore in him likewise as divine a child ; 
 But born not less for crowns of love and mirth, 
 
 Of palm and myrtle passionate and mild, 
 The leaf that girds about with gentler girth 
 
 The brow steel-bound in battle, and the wild
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 
 
 Soft spray that flowers above 
 The flower-soft hair of love ; 
 And the white lips of wayworn winter smiled 
 And grew serene as spring's 
 When with stretched clouds like wings 
 Or wings like drift of snow-clouds massed and piled 
 The godlike giant, softening, spread 
 A shadow of stormy shelter round the new-born head. 
 
 And o'er it brightening bowed the wild-haired hour, 
 And touched his tongue with honey and with fire, 
 
 And breathed between his lips the note of power 
 That makes of all the winds of heaven a lyre 
 
 Whose strings are stretched from topmost peaks tliat 
 tower
 
 8 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 To softest springs of waters that suspire, 
 With sounds too dim to shake the lowHest flower 
 Breathless with hope and dauntless with desire : 
 
 And bright before his face 
 
 That Hour became a Grace, 
 As in the light of their Athenian quire 
 
 When the Hours before the sun 
 
 And Graces were made one. 
 Called by sweet Love down from the aerial gyre 
 By one dear name of natural joy. 
 
 To bear on her bright breast from heaven a heaven-born 
 boy. 
 
 4- 
 Ere light could kiss the little lids in sunder 
 
 Or love could lift them for the sun to smite. 
 His fiery birth-star as a sign of wonder 
 Had risen, perplexing the presageful night
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 
 
 With shadow and glory around her sphere and under 
 
 And portents prophesying by sound and sight ; 
 And half the sound was song and half was thunder, 
 And half his life of lightning, half of light : 
 And in the soft clenched hand 
 Shone like a burning brand 
 A shadowy sword for swordless fields of fight, 
 Wrought only for such lord 
 As so may wield the sword 
 That all things ill be put to fear and flight 
 Even at the flash and sweep and gleam 
 Of one swift stroke beheld but in a shuddering dream. 
 
 Like the sun's rays that blind the night's wild beasts 
 The sword of song shines as the swordsman sings \
 
 lo SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 From the west wind's verge even to the arduous east's 
 The splendour of the shadow that it flings 
 
 Makes fire and storm in heaven above the feasts 
 Of men fulfilled with food of evil things ; 
 
 Strikes dumb the lying and hungering lips of priests, 
 
 Smites dead the slaying and ravening hands of kings ; 
 
 Turns dark the hmp's hot light, 
 
 And turns the darkness bright 
 As with the shadow of dawn's reverberate wings ; 
 
 And far before its way 
 Heaven, yearning toward the day. 
 Shines with its thunder and round its lightning rings ; 
 And never hand yet earlier played 
 \Mth that keen sword whose hilt is cloud, and fire its 
 blade.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. ii 
 
 6. 
 
 As dropping flakes of honey-heavy dew 
 
 More soft than slumber's, fell the first note's sound 
 From strings the swift young hand strayed lightlier through 
 Than leaves through calm air wheeling toward the ground 
 Stray down the drifting wind when skies are blue 
 
 Nor yet the wings of latter winds unbound, 
 Ere winter loosen all the ^olian crew 
 
 With storm unleashed behind them like a hound. 
 As lightly rose and sank 
 Beside a green-flowered bank 
 The clear first notes his burning boyhood found 
 To sing her sacred praise 
 Who rode her city's ways 
 Clothed with bright hair and with high purpose crowned ;
 
 12 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 A song of soft presageful breath, 
 Prefiguring all his love and faith in life and death ; 
 
 Who should love two things only and only praise 
 
 More than all else for ever : even the glory 
 Of goodly beauty in women, whence all days 
 
 Take light whereby death's self seems transitory ; 
 And loftier love than loveliest eyes can raise. 
 
 Love that wipes off the miry stains and gory 
 From Time's worn feet, besmirched on bloodred ways, 
 
 And lightens with his light the night of story ; 
 Love that lifts up from dust 
 Life, and makes darkness just. 
 
 And purges as with fire of purgatory
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 13 
 
 The dense disastrous air, 
 To burn old falsehood bare 
 And give the wind its ashes heaped and hoary ; 
 Love, that with eyes of ageless youth 
 Sees on the breast of Freedom borne her nursling Trutli. 
 
 8. 
 
 For at his birth the sistering stars were one 
 
 That flamed upon it as one fiery star ; 
 Freedom, whose light makes pale the mounting sun. 
 
 And Song, whose fires are quenched when Freedom's 
 are. 
 Of all that love not liberty let none 
 
 Love her that fills our lips with fire from far 
 To mix with winds and seas in unison 
 
 And sound athwart life's tideless harbour-bar
 
 14 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Out where our songs fly free 
 Across time's bounded sea, 
 A boundless flight beyond the dim sun's car, 
 Till all the spheres of night 
 Chime concord round their flight 
 Too loud for blasts of warring change to mar, 
 From stars that sang for Homer's birth 
 To these that gave our Landor welcome back from earth. 
 
 Shine, as above his cradle, on his grave. 
 Stars of our worship, lights of our desire ! 
 
 For never man that heard the world's wind rave 
 To you was truer in trust of heart and lyre : 
 
 Nor Greece nor England on a brow more brave 
 Beheld your flame against the wind burn higher
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 15 
 
 Nor all the gusts that blanch life's worldly wave 
 With surf and surge could quench its flawless fire : 
 No blast of all that blow 
 Might bid the torch burn low- 
 That lightens on us yet as o'er his pyre, 
 Indomitable of storm, 
 That now no flaws deform 
 Nor thwart winds bafile ere it all aspire, 
 One light of godlike breath and flame, 
 To write on heaven with man's most glorious names his 
 name. 
 
 10. 
 
 The very dawn was dashed with stormy dew 
 
 And freaked with fire as when God's hand would mar 
 
 Palaces reared of tyrants, and the blue 
 
 Deep heaven was kindled round her thunderous car,
 
 1 6 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 That saw how swift a gathering glory grew 
 
 About him risen, ere clouds could blind or bar 
 A splendour strong to burn and burst them through 
 And mix in one sheer light things near and far. 
 First flew before his path 
 Light shafts of love and wrath, 
 But winged and edged as elder warriors' are ; 
 Then rose a light that showed 
 Across the midsea road 
 From radiant Calpe to revealed Masar 
 The way of war and love and fate 
 Between the goals of fear and fortune, hope and hate. 
 
 II. 
 
 Mine own twice banished fathers' harbour-land, 
 Their nursing-mother France, the well-beloved,
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 17 
 
 By the arduous blast of sanguine sunrise fanned, 
 
 Flamed on him, and his burning lips were moved 
 As that live statue's throned on Lybian sand 
 
 When morning moves it, ere her light faith roved 
 From promise, and her tyrant's poisonous hand 
 Fed hope with Corsic honey till she proved 
 More deadly than despair 
 And falser even than fair. 
 Though fairer than all elder hopes removed 
 As landmarks by the crime 
 Of inundating time ; 
 Light faith by grief too loud too long reproved : 
 For even as in some darkling dance 
 Wronged love changed hands with hate, and turned his 
 heart from France.
 
 1 8 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 12. 
 
 But past the snows and summits Pyrenean 
 
 Love stronger-winged held more prevaihng flight 
 That o'er Tyrrhene, Iberian, and ^gean 
 
 Shores lightened with one storm of sound and 
 light. 
 From earliest even to hoariest years one paean 
 
 Rang rapture through the fluctuant roar of fight. 
 From Nestor's tongue in accents Achillean 
 On death's blind verge dominant over night. 
 For voice as hand and hand 
 As voice for one fair land 
 Rose radiant, smote sonorous, past the height 
 Where darkling pines enrobe 
 The steel-cold Lake of Gaube, 
 Deep as dark death and keen as death to smite,
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 19 
 
 To where on peak or moor or plain 
 His heart and song and sword were one to strike for 
 Spain. 
 
 13- 
 
 Resurgent at his lifted voice and hand 
 
 Pale in the light of war or treacherous fate 
 Song bade before him all their shadows stand 
 
 For whom his will unbarred their funeral grate. 
 The father by whose wrong revenged his land 
 
 Was given for sword and fire to desolate 
 Rose fire-encircled as a burning brand, 
 
 Great as the woes he wrought and bore were great. 
 Fair as she smiled and died, 
 Death's crowned and breathless bride 
 Smiled as one living even on craft and hate : 
 
 c 2
 
 20 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 And pity, a star unrisen, 
 Scarce lit Ferrante's prison 
 Ere night unnatural closed the natural gate 
 That gave their life and love and light 
 To those fair eyes despoiled by fratricide of sight. 
 
 14. 
 
 Tears bright and sweet as fire and incense fell 
 
 In perfect notes of music-measured pain 
 On veiled sweet heads that heard not love's farewell 
 
 Sob through the song that bade them rise again ; 
 Rise in the light of living song, to dwell 
 
 With memories crowned of memory : so the strain 
 Made soft as heaven the stream that girdles hell 
 
 And sweet the darkness of the breathless plain, 
 And with Elysian flowers
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 21 
 
 Recrowned the wreathless hours 
 That mused and mourned upon their works in vain ; 
 For all their works of death 
 Song filled with light and breath, 
 And listening grief relaxed her lightening chain ; 
 For sweet as all the wide sweet south 
 She found the song like honey from the lion's mouth. 
 
 15- 
 
 High from his throne in heaven Simonides, 
 Crowned with mild aureole of memorial tears 
 
 That the everlasting sun of all time sees 
 All golden, molten from the forge of years, 
 
 Smiled, as the gift was laid upon his knees 
 
 Of songs that hang like pearls in mourners' ears. 
 
 Mild as the murmuring of Hymettian bees
 
 2 2 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 -And honied as their harvest, that endears 
 The toil of flowery days ; 
 And smiling perfect praise 
 Hailed his one brother mateless else of peers : 
 ^^^hom we tliat hear not him 
 For length of date grown dim 
 Hear, and the heart grows glad of grief that hears ; 
 And harshest heights of sorrowing hours. 
 Like snows of Alpine April, melt from tears to flowers. 
 
 1 6. 
 
 Therefore to him the shadow of death was none, 
 The darkness was not, nor the temporal tomb 
 
 And multitudinous time for him was one, 
 Who bade before his equal seat of doom 
 
 Rise and stand up for judgment in the sun
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 
 
 The weavers of the world's large -historied loom, 
 By their own works of light or darkness done 
 
 Clothed round with light or girt about with gloom. 
 In speech of purer gold 
 Than even they spake of old 
 He bade the breath of Sidney's lips relume 
 The fire of thought and love 
 That made his bright life move 
 Through fair brief seasons of benignant bloom 
 To blameless music ever, strong 
 As death and sweet as death-annihilating song. 
 
 17- 
 
 Thought gave his wings the width of tiivie to roam, 
 Love gave his thought strength equal to release 
 From bonds of old forgetful years, like foam
 
 24 SOXG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Vanished, the fame of memories that decrease ; 
 So strongly faith had fledged for flight from home 
 
 The soul's large pinions till her strife should cease 
 And through the trumpet of a child of Rome 
 Rang the pure music of the flutes of Greece. 
 As though some northern hand 
 Reft from the Latin land 
 A spoil more costly than the Colchian fleece 
 To clothe with golden sound 
 Of old joy newly found 
 And rapture as of penetrating peace 
 
 The naked north-wind's cloudiest clime, 
 And give its darkness light of the old Sicilian time. 
 
 1 8. 
 He saw the brand that fired the towers of Troy 
 Fade, and the darkness at CEnone's prayer
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 25 
 
 Close upon her that closed upon her boy, 
 
 For all the curse of godhead that she bare ; 
 And the Apollonian serpent gleam and toy 
 
 With scathless maiden limbs and shuddering hair ; 
 And his love smitten in their dawn of joy 
 
 Leave Pan the pine-leaf of her change to wear ; 
 And one in flov/ery coils 
 Caught as in fiery toils 
 Smite Calydon with mourning unaware ; , 
 
 And where her low turf shrine 
 Showed Modesty divine 
 The fairest mother's dou^hter far more fair 
 Hide on her breast me heavenly shame 
 That kindled once with love should kindle Troy with 
 flame.
 
 26 SO.VG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 19. 
 
 Nor less the light of story than of song 
 
 With graver glories girt his godlike head, 
 Reverted ahvay from the temporal throng 
 
 Of lives that live not toward the living dead. 
 The shadows and the splendours of their throng 
 
 Made bright and dark about his board and bed 
 The lines of life and vision, sweet or strong 
 
 With sound of lutes or trumpets blown, that led 
 Forth of the ghostly gate 
 Opening in spite of fate 
 Shapes of majestic or tumultuous tread, 
 Divine and direful things. 
 These foul as priests or kings, 
 Those fair as heaven or love or freedom, red
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 27 
 
 AV'ith blood and green with palms and white 
 With raiment woven of deeds divine and words of li'j;ht. 
 
 20, 
 
 The thunder-fire of Cromwell, and the ray 
 
 That keeps the place of Phocion's name serene 
 And clears the cloud from Kosciusko's day, 
 
 Alternate as dark hours with bright between, 
 Met in the heaven of his high thought, which lay 
 
 For all stars open that all eyes had seen 
 Rise on the night or twilight of the way 
 
 Where feet of human hopes and fears had been. 
 Again the sovereign word 
 On Milton's lips was heard 
 
 Living : again the tender three days' queen
 
 2 8 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Drew bright and gentle breath 
 On the sharp edge of death : 
 
 And, staged again to show of mortal scene, 
 Tiberius, ere his name grew dire, 
 Wept, stainless yet of empire, tears of blood and fire. 
 
 21. 
 
 Most ardent and most awful and most fond, 
 
 The fervour of his Apollonian eye 
 Yearned upon Hellas, yet enthralled in bond 
 
 Of time whose years beheld her and past by 
 Silent and shameful, till she rose and donned 
 
 The casque again of Pallas ; for her cry 
 Forth of the past and future, depths beyond 
 
 'I'his where the present and its tyrants lie. 
 As one great voice of twain
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 29 
 
 For him had pealed again, 
 Heard but of hearts high as her own was high, 
 High as her own and his 
 And pure as love's heart is. 
 That lives though hope at once and memory die : 
 And with her breath his clarion's blast 
 Was filled as cloud with fire or future souls with past. 
 
 22. 
 
 As a wave only obsequious to the wind 
 Leaps to the lifting breeze that bids it leap, 
 
 Large-hearted, and its thickening mane^be thinned 
 By the strong god's breath moving on the deep 
 
 From utmost Atlas even to extremest Ind 
 
 That shakes the plain where no men sow nor reap. 
 
 So, moved with wrath toward men that ruled and sinned
 
 30 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 And pity toward all tears he saw men weep, 
 Arose to take man's part 
 His loving lion heart, 
 Kind as the sun's that has in charge to keep 
 Earth and the seed thereof 
 Safe in his lordly love, 
 Strong as sheer truth and soft as very sleep ; 
 The mightiest heart since Milton's leapt, 
 The gentlest since the gentlest heart of Shakespeare 
 slept. 
 
 23- 
 
 Like the wind's own on her divided sea 
 His song arose on Corinth, and aloud 
 
 Recalled her Isthmian song and strife when she 
 Was thronged with glories as with gods in crowd
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 31 
 
 And as the wind's own spirit her breath was free 
 
 And as the heaven's own heart her soul was proud, 
 But freer and prouder stood no son than he 
 Of all she bare before her heart was bowed ; 
 None higher than he who heard 
 Medea's keen last word 
 Transpierce her traitor, and like a rushing cloud 
 That sundering shows a star 
 Saw pass her thunderous car 
 And a face whiter and deadlier than a shroud 
 That lightened from it, and the brand 
 Of tender blood that falling seared his suppliant hand. 
 
 24. 
 
 More fair than all things born and slain of fate. 
 More glorious than all births of days and nights,
 
 32 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 He bade the spirit of man regenerate, 
 
 Rekindling, rise and reassume the rights 
 That in high seasons of his old estate 
 
 Clothed him and armed with majesties and mights 
 Heroic, when the times and hearts were great 
 And in the depths of ages rose the heights 
 Radiant of high deeds done 
 And souls that matched the sun 
 For splendour with the lightnings of their lights 
 Whence even their uttered names 
 Burn like the strong twin flames 
 Of song that shakes a throne and steel that smites ; 
 As on Thermopylae when shone 
 Leonidas, on Syracuse Timoleon.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 33 
 
 25- 
 
 Or, sweeter than the breathless buds when spring 
 
 With smiles and tears and kisses bids them breathe, 
 Fell with its music from his quiring string 
 
 Fragrance of pine-leaves and odorous heath 
 Twined round the lute whereto he sighed to sing 
 
 Of the oak that screened and showed its maid beneath, 
 Who seeing her bee crawl back with broken wing 
 Faded, a fairer flower than all her wreath. 
 And paler, though her oak 
 Stood scathless of the stroke 
 More sharp than edge of axe or wolfish teeth, 
 That mixed with mortals dead 
 Her own half heavenly head 
 And life incorporate with a sylvan sheath, 
 And left the wild rose and the dove 
 A secret place., and sacred from all guests but Love. 
 
 D
 
 34 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 26. 
 
 But in the sweet clear fields beyond the river 
 
 Dividing pain from peace and man from shade 
 He saw the wings that there no longer quiver 
 
 Sink of the hours whose parting footfalls fade 
 On ears which hear the rustling amaranth shiver 
 
 With sweeter sound of wind than ever made 
 Music on earth : departing, they deliver 
 
 The soul that shame or wrath or sorrow swayed ; 
 And round the king of men 
 Clash the clear arms again, 
 Clear of all soil and bright as laurel braid, 
 That rang less high for joy 
 Through the gates fallen of Troy 
 Than here to hail the sacrificial maid,
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 35 
 
 Iphigeneia, when the ford 
 Fast-flowing of sorrows brought her father and their 
 lord. 
 
 27. 
 
 And in the clear gulf of the hollow sea 
 
 He saw light glimmering through the grave green 
 gloom 
 That hardly gave the sun's eye leave to see 
 Cymodameia ; but nor tower nor tomb, 
 No tower on earth, no tomb of waves may be. 
 
 That may not sometime by diviner doom 
 Be plain and pervious to the poet ; he 
 Bids time stand back from him and fate make room 
 For passage of his feet. 
 Strong as their own are fleet, 
 And yield the prey no years may reassume 
 
 D 2
 
 36 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Through all their clamorous track, 
 Nor night nor day win back 
 Nor give to darkness what his eyes illume 
 And his lips bless for ever : he 
 Knows what earth knows not, sings truth sung not of the 
 sea. 
 
 28. 
 
 Before the sentence of a curule chair 
 
 More sacred than the Roman, rose and stood 
 To take their several doom the imperial pair 
 
 Diversely born of Venus, and in mood 
 Diverse as their one mother, and as fair. 
 
 Though like two stars contrasted, and as good, 
 Though different as dark eyes from golden hair ; 
 
 One as that iron planet red like blood 
 That bears among the stars 
 Fierce witness of her Mars
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 37 
 
 In bitter fire by her sweet light subdued ; 
 One in the gentler skies 
 Sweet as her amorous eyes : 
 One proud of worlds and seas and darkness rude 
 Composed and conquered ; one content 
 With lightnings from loved eyes of lovers lightly sent. 
 
 29. 
 
 And where Alpheus and where Ladon ran 
 Radiant, by many a rushy and rippling cove 
 
 More known to glance of god than wandering man, 
 He sang the strife of strengths divine that strove, 
 
 Unequal, one with other, for a span, 
 
 Who should be friends for ever in heaven above 
 
 And here on pastoral earth : Arcadian Pan, 
 
 » > : ■>. * •■■ (■ % ■-*?• ■ (T")
 
 38 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 And the awless lord of kings and shepherds, Love : 
 All the sweet strife and strange 
 With fervid counterchange 
 Till one fierce wail through many a glade and grove 
 Rang, and its breath made shiver 
 The reeds of many a river, 
 And the warm airs waxed wintry that it clove. 
 Keen-edged as ice-retempered brand ; 
 Nor might god's hurt find healing save of godlike hand. 
 
 3°- 
 
 As when the jarring gates of thunder ope 
 Like earthquake felt in heaven, so dire a cry, 
 
 So fearful and so fierce — ' Give the sword scope ! '- 
 Rang from a daughter's lips, darkening the sky
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 39 
 
 To the extreme azure of all its cloudless cope 
 
 With starless horror : nor the God's own eye 
 Whose doom bade smite, whose ordinance bade hope, 
 Might well endure to see the adulteress die, 
 The husband-slayer fordone 
 By swordstroke of her son, 
 Unutterable, unimaginable on high, 
 On earth abhorrent, fell 
 Beyond all scourge of hell, 
 Yet righteous as redemption : Love stood nigh. 
 Mute, sister-like, and closer clung 
 Than all fierce forms of threatening coil and maddening 
 tongue. 
 
 31- 
 
 All these things heard and seen and sung of old, 
 
 He heard and saw and sang them. Once again
 
 40 SO^'G FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Might foot of man tread, eye of man behold 
 Things unbeholden save of ancient men, 
 Ways save by gods untrodden. In his hold 
 
 The staff that stayed through some /Etnean glen 
 The steps of the most highest, most awful-souled 
 And mightiest-mouthed of singers, even as then 
 Became a prophet's rod, 
 A lyre on fire of God, 
 Being still the staff of exile : yea, as when 
 The voice poured forth on us 
 Was even of yEschylus, 
 And his one word great as the crying of ten, 
 Crying in men's ears of wrath toward wrong, 
 Of love toward right immortal, sanctified with song.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 41 
 
 32- 
 Him too whom none save one before him ever 
 Beheld, nor since hath man again beholden, 
 Whom Dante seeing him saw not, nor the giver 
 Of all gifts back to man by time withholden, 
 Shakespeare — him too, whom sea-like ages sever, . 
 As waves divide men's eyes from lights upholden 
 To landward, from our songs that find him never, 
 Seeking, though memory fire and hope embolden — 
 Him too this one song found, 
 And raised at its sole sound 
 Up from the dust of darkling dreams and olden 
 Legends forlorn of breath, 
 Up from the deeps of death, 
 Ulysses : him whose name turns all songs golden. 
 The wise divine strong soul, whom fate 
 Could make no less than change and chance beheld him 
 great.
 
 42 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 33- 
 
 Nor stands the seer who raised him less august 
 
 Before us, nor in judgment frail and rathe, 
 Less constant or less loving or less just. 
 
 But fruitful-ripe and full of tender faith, 
 Holding all high and gentle names in trust 
 
 Of time for honour ; so his quickening breath 
 Called from the darkness of their martyred dust 
 Our sweet Saints Alice and Elizabeth, 
 Revived and reinspired 
 With speech from heavenward fired 
 By love to say what Love the Archangel saith 
 Only, nor may such word 
 Save by such ears be heard 
 As hear the tongues of angels after death
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 43 
 
 Descending on them like a dove 
 Has taken all earthly sense of thought away but love. 
 
 All sweet, all sacred, all heroic things, 
 
 All generous names and loyal, and all wise, 
 With all his heart in all its wayfarings 
 
 He sought, and worshipped, seeing them with his 
 eyes 
 In very present glory, clothed with wings 
 
 Of words and deeds and dreams immortal, rise 
 Visible more than living slaves and kings, 
 Audible more than actual vows and lies : 
 These, with scorn's fieriest rod. 
 These and the Lord their God, 
 The Lord their Hkeness, tyrant of the skies
 
 44 SO.VG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 As they Lord Gods of earth, 
 These with a rage of mirth 
 
 He mocked and scourged and spat on, in such wise 
 That none might stand before his rod, 
 And these being slain the Spirit alone be lord or God. 
 
 35- 
 
 For of all souls for all time glorious none 
 
 Loved Freedom better, of all who have loved her best, 
 Than he who wrote that scripture of the sun 
 
 Writ as with fire and light on heaven's own crest. 
 Of all words heard on earth the noblest one 
 
 That ever spake for souls and left them blest : 
 Gladly we should rest ever, had we won 
 
 Freedom : we have lost, and very gladly rest.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 45 
 
 O poet hero, lord 
 And father, we record 
 Deep in the burning tablets of the breast 
 Thankfully those divine 
 And living words of thine 
 For faith and comfort in our hearts imprest 
 With strokes engraven past hurt of years 
 And lines inured with fire of immemorial tears. 
 
 But who being less than thou shall sing of thee 
 
 Words worthy of more than pity or less than scorn ? 
 
 Who sing the golden garland woven of three, 
 Thy daughters, Graces mightier than the morn, 
 
 More godlike than the graven gods men see 
 Made all but all immortal, human born
 
 46 SO.VG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 And heavenly natured ? With the first came He, 
 Led by the living hand, who left forlorn 
 Life by his death, and time 
 More by his life sublime 
 Than by the lives of all whom all men mourn, 
 And even for mourning praise 
 Heaven, as for all those days 
 These dead men's lives clothed round with glories 
 worn 
 By memory till all time lie dead. 
 And higher than all behold the bay round Shakespeare's 
 head. 
 
 37- 
 
 Then, fairer than the fairest Grace of ours, 
 
 Came girt with Grecian gold the second Grace,
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 47 
 
 And verier daughter of his most perfect hours 
 
 Than any of latter time or alien place 
 Named, or with hair inwoven of English flowers 
 
 Only, nor wearing on her statelier face 
 The lordlier light of Athens. All the Powers 
 That graced and guarded round that holiest race. 
 That heavenliest and most high 
 Time hath seen live and die. 
 Poured all their power upon him to retrace 
 The erased immortal roll 
 Of Love's most sovereign scroll 
 And Wisdom's warm from Freedom's wide embrace, 
 The scroll that on Aspasia's knees 
 Laid once made manifest the Olympian Pericles.
 
 48 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 38. 
 Clothed on with tenderest weft of Tuscan air, 
 
 Came laughing like Etrurian spring the third, 
 With green Valdelsa's hill-flowers in her hair 
 
 Deep-drenched with May-dews, in her voice the bird 
 Whose voice hath night and morning in it ; fair 
 As the ambient gold of wall-flowers that engird 
 The walls engirdling with a circling stair 
 My sweet San Gimignano : nor a word 
 Fell from her flowerlike mouth 
 Not sweet with all the south ; 
 As though the dust shrined in Certaldo stirred 
 And spake, as o'er it shone 
 That bright Pentameron, 
 And his own vines again and chestnuts heard 
 Boccaccio : nor swift Elsa's chime 
 Mixed not her golden babble witli Petrarca's rhyme.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 49 
 
 39- 
 
 No lovelier laughed the garden which receives 
 
 Yet, and yet hides not from our following eyes 
 
 With soft rose-laurels and low strawberry-leaves, 
 
 Ternissa, sweet as April-coloured skies, 
 Bowed like a flowering reed when May's wind heaves 
 
 The reed-bed that the stream kisses and sighs. 
 
 In love that shrinks and murmurs and believes 
 
 What yet the wisest of the starriest wise 
 
 Whom Greece might ever hear 
 
 Speaks in the gentlest ear 
 That ever heard love's lips philosophize 
 
 With such deep-reasoning words 
 
 As blossoms use and birds, 
 Nor heeds Leontion lingering till they rise 
 
 E
 
 50 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Far off, in no wise over far, 
 Beneath a heaven all amorous of its first-born star. 
 
 40. 
 
 What sound, what storm and splendour cf what fire. 
 
 Darkening the light of heaven, lightening the night, 
 Rings, rages, flashes round what ravening pyre 
 
 That makes time's face pale with its reflex light 
 And leaves on earth, who seeing might scarce respire, 
 A shadow of red remembrance ? Right nor might 
 Alternating wore ever shapes more dire 
 Nor manifest in all men's awful sight 
 In form and face that wore 
 Heaven's light and likeness more 
 Than these, or held suspense men's hearts at 
 height
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANE OR. 51 
 
 More fearful, since man first 
 Slaked with man's blood his thirst, 
 Than when Rome clashed with Hannibal in fight, 
 Till tower on ruining tower was hurled 
 Where Scifjio stood, and Carthage was not in the world. 
 
 41. 
 
 Nor lacked there power of purpose in his hand 
 
 Who carved their several praise in words of gold 
 To bare the brows of conquerors and to brand, 
 
 Made shelterless of laurels bought and sold 
 For price of blood or incense, dust or sand, 
 
 Triumph or terror. He that sought of old 
 His father Ammon in a stranger's land, 
 
 And shrank before the serpentining fold, 
 
 E 2
 
 52 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Stood in our seer's wide eye 
 No higher than man most high, 
 .And lowest in heart when highest in hope to hold 
 Fast as a scripture furled 
 The scroll of all the world 
 Sealed with his signet : nor the blind and bold 
 First thief of empire, round whose head 
 Swarmed carrion ilies for bees, on flesh for violets fed.' 
 
 As fire that kisses, killing with a kiss, 
 
 He saw the light of death, riotous and red, 
 
 Flame round the bent brows of Semiramis 
 
 Re-risen, and mightier, from the Assyrian dead, 
 
 ' Thy lifelong works, Napoleon, who shall write? 
 Time, in his children's blood who takes delight. 
 
 Fiv/n the Greek of Lajzdor.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 53 
 
 Kindling, as dawn a frost-bound precipice, 
 
 The steely snows of Russia, for the tread 
 
 Of feet that felt before them crawl and hiss 
 
 The snaky lines of blood violently shed 
 
 Like living creeping things 
 
 That writhe but have no stings 
 
 To scare adulterers from the imperial bed 
 
 Bowed with its load of lust, 
 Or chill the ravenous gust 
 
 That made her body a fire from heel to head ; 
 
 Or change her high bright spirit and clear. 
 
 For all its mortal stains, from taint of fraud or fear. 
 
 43- 
 
 As light that blesses, hallowing with a look. 
 He saw the godhead in Vittoria's face
 
 54 SONG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Shine soft on Buonarroti's, till he took, 
 
 Albeit himself God, a more godlike grace, 
 A strength more heavenly to confront and brook 
 
 All ill things coiled about his worldly race, 
 .From the bright scripture of that present book 
 ■^-Wherein his tired gi-and eyes got power to trace 
 Comfort more sweet than youth, 
 And hope whose child was truth. 
 And love that brought forth sorrow for a space, 
 Only that she might bear 
 Joy : these things, written there. 
 Made even his soul's high heaven a heavenlier place, 
 Perused with eyes whose glory and glow 
 Had in their fires the spirit of Michael Angelo.
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 55 
 
 44- 
 
 With balms and dews of blessing he consoled 
 
 The fair fame wounded by the black priest's fang, 
 Giovanna's, and washed off her blithe and bold 
 
 Boy-bridegroom's blood, that seemed so long to haag 
 On her fair hand, even till the stain of old 
 
 Was cleansed with healinp: song, that after sang 
 Sharp truth by sweetest singers' lips untold 
 Of pale Beatrice, though her death-note rang 
 P'rom other strings divine 
 Ere his rekindling line 
 With yet more piteous and intolerant pang 
 Pierced all men's hearts anew 
 That heard her passion through 
 Till fierce from throes of fiery pity sprang
 
 56 SO.VG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 \A'rath, armed for chase of monstrous beasts, 
 Strong to lay waste the kingdom of the seed of priests. 
 
 45- 
 
 He knev,- the liigh-souled humbleness, the mirth 
 
 And n:ajesty of meanest men born free. 
 That made with Luther's or with Hofer's birth 
 
 The whole world worthier of the sun to see : 
 The wealth of spirit among the snows, the dearth 
 
 Wherein souls festered by the servile sea 
 That saw the lowest of even crowned heads on earth 
 
 Thronged round with worship in Parthenope. 
 His hand bade Justice guide 
 Her child Tyrannicide, 
 
 Light winged by fire that brings the dawn to be ;
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LA AW OR. 57 
 
 And pierced with Tyrrel's dart 
 Again the riotous heart 
 That mocked at mercy's tongue and manhood's knee : 
 And oped the cell where kinglike death 
 Kunc o'er her brows discrowned who bare Elizabeth. 
 
 46. 
 
 Toward Spenser or toward Bacon proud or kind 
 
 He bared the heart of Essex, twain and one, 
 For the base heart that soiled the starry mind 
 
 Stern, for the father in his child undone 
 Soft as his own toward children, stamped and signed 
 
 With their sweet image visibly set on 
 As by God's hand, clear as his own designed 
 
 The likeness radiant out of ages gone
 
 58 SOyC FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 That none may now destroy 
 Of that high Roman boy 
 Whom Julius and Cleopatra saw their son 
 True-born of sovereign seed, 
 Foredoomed even thence to bleed, 
 The stately grace of bright Csesarion, 
 The head unbent, the heart unbowed, 
 That not the shadow of death could make less clear and 
 proud. 
 
 47- 
 
 With gracious gods he communed, honouring thus 
 
 At once by service and similitude, 
 Service devout and worship emulous 
 
 Of the same golden Muses once they wooed, 
 'I"he names and shades adored of all of us. 
 
 The nursliniis of the brave world's earlier brood,
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. 59 
 
 Grown gods for us themselves : Theocritus 
 First, and more dear Catullus, names bedewed 
 With blessings bright like tears 
 From the old memorial years, 
 And loves and lovely laughters, every mood 
 Sweet as the drops that fell 
 Of their own oenomel 
 From living lips to cheer the multitude 
 That feeds on words divine, and grows 
 ]\Iore worthy, seeing their world reblossom like a rose. 
 
 48. 
 
 Peace, the soft seal of long life's closing story. 
 The silent music that no strange note jars, 
 
 Crowned not with gentler hand the years that glory 
 Crowned, but could hide not all the spiritual scars
 
 6o SOXG FOR THE CENTENARY OF 
 
 Time \\Tites on the inward strengths of warriors hoary 
 
 With much long warfare, and with gradual bars 
 Blindly pent in : but these, being transitory, 
 
 Broke, and the power came back that passion mars : 
 And at the lovely last 
 Above all anguish past 
 Before his own the sightless eyes like stars 
 Arose that watched arise 
 Like stars in other skies 
 Above the strife of ships and hurtling cars 
 The Dioscurian songs divine 
 That lighten all the world with lightning of their line. 
 
 49- 
 
 He sang the last of Homer, having sung 
 The last of his Ulysses. Bright and wide
 
 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 6i 
 
 For him time's dark strait ways, like clouds that clung 
 
 About the day-star, doubtful to divide. 
 Waxed in his spiritual eyeshot, and his tongue 
 Spake as his soul bore witness, that descried. 
 Like those twin towering lights in darkness hung, 
 Homer, and grey Laertes at his side 
 Kingly as kings are none 
 Beneath a later sun. 
 And the sweet maiden ministering in pride 
 To sovereign and to sage 
 In their more sweet old age : 
 These things he sang, himself as old, and died. 
 And if death be not, if life be, 
 As Homer and as Milton are in heaven is he.
 
 62 WALTER SAVAGE LAND OR. 
 
 50- 
 
 Poet whose large-eyed loyalty of love 
 
 Was pure toward all high poets, all their kind 
 And all bright words and all sweet works thereof; 
 Strong like the sun, and like the sunlight kind ; 
 Heart that no fear but every grief might move 
 
 Wherewith men's hearts were bound of powers that bind ; 
 The purest soul that ever proof could prove 
 From taint of tortuous or of envious mind ; 
 Whose eyes elate and clear 
 Nor shame nor ever fear 
 But only pity or glorious wrath could blind ; 
 Name set for love apart. 
 Held lifelong in my heart. 
 Face like a father's toward my face inclined ; 
 No gifts like thine are mine to give, 
 Who by tliine own words only bid thee hail, and live.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 6. See note to the Imaginary Conversation of Leofric and Godiva 
 for the exquisite first verses extant frcm the hand of 
 Landor. 
 
 10. The Poems of Walter Savage Landor : 1795. Moral 
 Epistle, respectfully dedicated to Earl Stanhope : 1795. 
 Gebir. 
 
 13. Count Julian : Ines de Castro : Ippolito di Este. 
 
 14, 15. Poems 'on the Dead.' 
 
 16. Imaginary Conversations : Lord Brooke and Sir Philip 
 
 Sidney. 
 
 17, 18. Idyllia Nova Quinque Heroum atque Heroidum {1815): 
 
 Corythus ; Dryope ; Pan et Pitys ; Coresus et Callir- 
 rhoe; Helena ad Pudoris Aram. 
 
 19,20. Imaginary Conversations: Oliver Cromwell and Walter 
 Noble ; /Eschines and Phocion ; Kosciusko and Ponia- 
 towski ; Milton and Marvell ; Roger Ascham and Lady 
 Jane Grey ; Tiberius and Vipsania. 
 
 21, 22, 23. Hellenics : To Corinth. 
 
 24. Hellenics : Regeneration. 
 
 25. The Hamadrj'ad ; Aeon and Rhodope. 
 
 26. The Shades of Agamemnon and Iphigeneia.
 
 64 NOTES. 
 
 STANZA 
 
 27. Enallos and Cymodameia. 
 
 28. The Children of Venus. 
 
 29. Cupid and Pan. 
 
 30. The Death of Clytemnestra ; The Madness of Orestes ; The 
 
 Prayer of Orestes. 
 
 32. The Last of Ulysses. 
 
 33. Imaginary Conversations : Lady Lisle and Elizabeth Gaunt. 
 
 35. Pro 7Komnncnto super militcs regio jussti interemptos. 
 
 36. The Citation and Examination of William Shakespeare. 
 
 37. Pericles and Aspasia. 
 
 38. The Pentameron. 
 
 39. Imaginary Conversations: Epicurus, Leontion, and Ternissa. 
 
 40. Marcellus and Hannibal : P. Scipio ^milianus, Polybius, 
 
 and Panaetius. 
 
 41. Alexander and Priest of Ammon : Bonaparte and the 
 
 President of the Senate. 
 
 42. The Empress Catherine and Princess Dashkoff. 
 
 43. Vittoria Colonna and Michel-Angelo Buonarroti. 
 
 44. Andrea of Hungar}', Giovanna of Naples, Era Rupert; a 
 
 Trilogy : Five Scenes (Beatrice Cenci). 
 
 45. Luther's Parents: The Death of Ilofer: (liiiaginary Conveisa- 
 
 iions) Andrew Hofer, Count Metternich, and the 
 Emperor P'rancis ; Judge Wolfgang and Henry of 
 Melchthal : The Coronation : Tyrannicide (The Last 
 fruit off an Old Tree) : Walter Tyrrel and William 
 Rufus: Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn.
 
 NOTES. 65 
 
 STANZA 
 
 46. Essex and Spenser {Imaginary Conversations) : Essex and 
 
 Bacon : Antony and Octavius {Scenes for the Study). 
 
 47. Critical Essays on Theocritus and Catullus. 
 
 48. 49. Heroic Idyls ; Homer, Laertes, and Agatha. 
 
 ' J'en passe, et des meilleurs.' But who can enume- 
 rate all or half our obligations to the illimitable and in- 
 exhaustible genius of the great man whose life and whose 
 labour lasted even from the generation of our fathers' 
 fathers to our own ? Hardly any reader can feel, I think, 
 so deeply as I feel the inadequacy of my poor praise 
 and too imperfect gratitude to the majestic subject of 
 their attempted expression ; but ' such as I had have I 
 given him.'
 
 GRAND CHORUS OF BIRDS 
 
 FROM 
 
 ARISTOPHANES 
 
 Attempted in English verse after the original metre. 
 
 F 2
 
 I WAS allured into the audacity of this experiment by consideration 
 of a fact which hitherto does not seem to have been taken into con- 
 sideration by any translator of the half divine humourist in whose 
 incomparable genius the highest qualities of Rabelais were fused 
 and harmonized with the supremest gifts of Shelley : namely, that 
 his marvellous metrical invention of the anapsestic heptameter was 
 almost exactly reproducible in a language to which all variations 
 and combinations of anapastic, iambic, or trochaic metre are 
 as natural and pliable as all dactylic and spondaic forms of verse 
 are unnatural and abhorrent. As it happens, this highest central 
 interlude of a most adorable masterpiece is as easy to detach from 
 its dramatic setting, and even from its lyrical context, as it was 
 easy to give line for line of it in English. In two metrical points 
 only does my version vary from the verbal pattern of the original. 
 I have of course added rhymes, and double rhymes, as necessary 
 makeweights for the imperfection of an otherwise inadequate lan- 
 guage ; and equally of course I have not attempted the impossible 
 and undesirable task of reproducing the rare exceptional effect of 
 a line overcharged on purpose with a preponderance of heavy- 
 footed spondees : and this for the obvious reason that even if such 
 line— which I doubt— could be exactly represented, foot by foot 
 and pause for pause, in English, this English line would no more 
 be a verse in any proper sense of the word than is the line I am 
 writing at this moment. And my main intention, or at least my 
 main desire, in the undertaking of this brief adventure, was to re- 
 new as far as possible for English ears the music of this resonant 
 and triumphant metre, which goes ringing at full gallop as of horses 
 who 
 
 ' dance as 'twere to the music 
 Their own hoofs make.' 
 
 I would not seem over curious in search of an apt or inapt quota- 
 tion : but nothing can be fitter than a verse of Shakespeare's to 
 praise at once and to describe the most typical verse of Aristo- 
 phanes.
 
 THE BIRDS. 
 
 (685-723) 
 
 Come on then, ye dwellers by nature in darkness, and 
 like to the leaves' generations, 
 
 That are little of might, that are moulded of mire, tin- 
 enduring and shadowlike nations, 
 
 Poor plumeless ephemerals, comfortless mortals, as visions 
 of creatures fast fleeing, 
 
 Lift up your mind unto us that are deathless, and dateless 
 the date of our being :
 
 70 GRAND CHORUS OF BIRDS 
 
 Us, children of heaven, us, ageless for aye, us, all of 
 
 whose thoughts are eternal ; 
 That ye may from henceforth, having heard of us all things 
 
 aright as to matters supernal. 
 Of the being of birds and beginning of gods, and of 
 
 streams, and the dark beyond reaching, 
 Truthfully knowing aright, in my name bid Prodicus pack 
 
 with his preaching. 
 
 It was Chaos and Night at the first, and the blackness 
 
 of darkness, and hell's broad border. 
 Earth was not, nor air, neither heaven ; when in depths 
 
 of the womb of the dark without order 
 First thing first-born of the black-plumed Night was a 
 
 wind-egg hatched in her bosom, 
 Whence timely with seasons revolving again sweet Love 
 
 burst out as a blossom,
 
 FROM ARISTOPHANES. 71 
 
 Gold wings glittering forth of his back, like whirlwinds 
 
 gustily turning. 
 He, after his wedlock with Chaos, whose wings are of 
 
 darkness, in hell broad-burning. 
 For his nestlings begat him the race of U3 first, and up- 
 raised us to light new-lighted. 
 And before this was not the race of the gods, until all 
 
 things by Love were united ; 
 And of kind united with kind in communion of nature 
 
 the sky and the sea are 
 Brought forth, and the earth, and the race of the gods 
 
 everlasting and blest. So that we are 
 Far away the most ancient of all things blest. And that 
 
 we are of Love's generation 
 There are manifest manifold signs. We have wings, and 
 
 with us have the Loves habitation :
 
 72 GRAND CHORUS OF BIRDS 
 
 And manifold fair young folk that forswore love once, 
 
 ere the bloom of them ended, 
 Have the men that pursued and desired them subdued, 
 
 by the help of us only befriended, 
 With such baits as a quail, a flamingo, a goose, or a cock's 
 
 comb staring and splendid. 
 
 All best good things that befall men come from us 
 
 birds, as is plain to all reason : 
 For first we pioclaim and make known to them spring, 
 
 and the winter and autumn in season ; 
 Bid sow, when the crane starts clanging for Afric, in 
 
 shrill-voiced emigrant number. 
 And calls to the pilot to hang up his rudder again for the 
 
 season, and slumber ; 
 And then weave a cloak for Orestes the thief, lest he 
 
 strip men of theirs if it freezes.
 
 FROM ARISTOPHANES. 73 
 
 And again thereafter the kite reappearing announces a 
 
 change in the breezes, 
 And that here is the season for shearing your sheep of 
 
 their spring wool. Then does the swallow 
 Give you notice to sell your greatcoat, and provide some- 
 thing light for the heat that's to follow. 
 Thus are we as Amnion or Delphi unto you, Dodona, 
 
 nay, Phcebus ApoUo. 
 For, as first ye come all to get auguries of birds, even such 
 
 is in all things your carriage, 
 Be the matter a matter of trade, or of earning your bread, 
 
 or of any one's marriage. 
 And all things ye lay to the charge of a bird that belong 
 
 to discerning prediction : 
 Winged fame is a bird, as you reckon : you sneeze, and 
 
 the sign's as a bird for conviction :
 
 74 GRAND CHORUS OF BIRDS. 
 
 All tokens are 'birds ' with you— sounds too, and lackeys, 
 and donkeys. Then must it not follow 
 
 That we are to you all as the manifest godhead that 
 speaks in prophetic Apollo ? 
 October 19, 18S0.
 
 OFF SHORE
 
 OFF SHORE. 
 
 When the might of the summer 
 
 Is most on the sea ; 
 When the days overcome her 
 With joy but to be, 
 With rapture of royal enchantment, and sorcery that sets 
 her not free, 
 
 But for hours upon hours 
 As a thrall she remains 
 Spell-bound as with flowers 
 And content in their chains, 
 And her loud steeds fret not, and lift not a lock of their 
 deep white manes ;
 
 78 OFF SHORE. 
 
 Then only, far under 
 
 In the depths of her hold, 
 Some gleam of its wonder 
 Man's eye may behold. 
 Its wild-weed forests of crimson and russet and olive and 
 gold. 
 
 Still deeper and dimmer 
 
 And goodlier they glow 
 
 For the eyes of the swimmer 
 
 Who scans them below 
 
 As he crosses the zone of their flowerage that knows not 
 
 of sunshine and snow. 
 
 Soft blossomless frondage 
 And foliage that gleams 
 As to prisoners in bondage
 
 OFF SHORE. 79 
 
 The light of their dreams, 
 The desire of a dawn unbeholden, with hope on the 
 wings of its beams. 
 
 Not as prisoners entombed 
 
 Waxen haggard and wizen, 
 But consoled and illumed 
 In the depths of their prison 
 With delight of the light everlasting and vision of dawn 
 on them risen. 
 
 From the banks and the beds 
 
 Of the waters divine 
 They lift up their heads 
 
 And the flowers of them shine 
 Through the splendour of darkness that clothes them 
 of water that glimmers like wine.
 
 So OFF SHORE. 
 
 Bright bank over bank 
 
 Making glorious the gloom, 
 Soft rank upon rank, 
 
 Strange bloom after bloom, 
 They kindle the liquid low twilight, the dusk of the dim 
 sea's womb. 
 
 Through the subtle and tangible 
 
 Gloom without form, 
 Their branches, infrangible 
 Ever of storm 
 Spread softer their sprays than the shoots of the wood- 
 land when April is warm. 
 
 As the flight of the thunder, full 
 
 Charged with its word, 
 Dividing the wonderful
 
 OFF SHORE. 81 
 
 Depths like a bird, 
 Speaks wrath and delight to the heart of the night that 
 exults to have heard, 
 
 So swiftly, though soundless 
 
 In silence's ear, 
 Light, winged from the boundless 
 Blue depths full of cheer. 
 Speaks joy to the heart of the waters that part not before 
 him, but hear. 
 
 Light, perfect and visible 
 
 Godhead of God, 
 God indivisible, 
 Lifts but his rod, 
 And the shadows are scattered in sunder, and darkness 
 is light at his nod.
 
 82 OFF SHORE. 
 
 At the touch of his wand, 
 At the nod of his head 
 From the spaces beyond 
 Where the dawn hath her bed, 
 Earth, water, and air are transfigured, and rise as one 
 risen from the dead. 
 
 He puts forth his hand. 
 
 And the mountains are thrilled 
 To the heart as they stand 
 In his presence, fulfilled 
 With his glory that utters his grace upon earth; and her 
 sorrows are stilled. 
 
 The moan of her travail 
 
 That groans for the light 
 Till dayspring unravel
 
 OFF SHORE. 83 
 
 The weft of the night, 
 At the sound of the strins^s of the music of mornino;, falls 
 
 dumb with delight. 
 
 He gives forth his word, 
 
 And the word that he saith, 
 Ere well it be heard, 
 
 Strikes darkness to death ; 
 For the thought of his heart is the sunrise, and dawn as 
 the sound of his breath. 
 
 And the strength of its pulses 
 That passion makes proud 
 Confounds and convulses 
 The depths of the cloud 
 Of the darkness that heaven was engirt with, divided and 
 rent as a shroud, 
 
 G2
 
 S4 OFF SHORE. 
 
 As the veil of the shrine 
 Of the temple of old 
 When darkness divine 
 
 Over noonday was rolled ; 
 So the heart of the night by the pulse of the light is con- 
 vulsed and controlled. 
 
 And the sea's heart, groaning 
 
 For glories withdrawn, 
 And the waves' mouths, moaning 
 All night for the dawn, 
 Are uplift as the hearts and the mouths of the singers on 
 leaside and lawn. 
 
 And the sound of the quiring 
 
 Of all these as one, 
 Deshed and desiring
 
 OFF SHORE. S5 
 
 Till dawn's will be done, 
 Fills full with delight of them heaven till it burns as the 
 heart of the sun. 
 
 Till the waves too inherit 
 
 And waters take part 
 In the sense of the spirit 
 
 That breathes from his heart, 
 And are kindled with music as fire when the lips of the 
 morning part, 
 
 With music unheard 
 
 In the light of her lips, 
 In the life-giving word 
 Of the dewfall that drips 
 On the grasses of earth, and the wind that enkindles the. 
 wings of the ships.
 
 86 OFF SHORE. 
 
 White glories of wings 
 As of seafaring birds 
 That flock from the springs 
 Of the sunrise in herds 
 With the wind for a herdsman, and hasten or halt at the 
 change of his words. 
 
 As the watchword's change 
 
 When the wind's note shifts, 
 And the skies grow strange. 
 And the white squall drifts 
 Up sharp from the sea-line, vexing the sea till the low 
 cloud lifts. 
 
 At the charge of his word 
 
 Bidding pause, bidding haste. 
 When the ranks are stirred
 
 OFF SHORE. 87 
 
 And the lines displaced, 
 They scatter as wild swans parting adrift on the wan 
 green waste. 
 
 At the hush of his word 
 
 In a pause of his breath 
 When the waters have heard 
 His will that he saith, 
 They stand as a flock penned close in its fold for 
 division of death. 
 
 As a flock by division' 
 
 Of death to be thinned',. 
 As the shades in a vision 
 Of spirits that sinned ; 
 So glimmer their shrouds and their sheetings as clouds on 
 the stream of the wind.
 
 88 OFF SHORE. 
 
 But the sun stands fast, 
 
 And the sea burns bright, 
 And the flight of them past 
 Is no more than the flight 
 Of the snow-soft swarm of serene wings poised and afloat 
 in the light 
 
 Like flowers upon flowers 
 
 In a festival way 
 When hours after hours 
 Shed grace on the day, 
 M^hite blossomlike butterflies hover and gleam through 
 the snows of the spray. 
 
 Like snow-coloured petals 
 
 (Of blossoms that flee 
 From storm that unsettles
 
 OFF SHORE. 89 
 
 The flower as the tree 
 They flutter, a legion of flowers on the wing, through the 
 field of the sea. 
 
 Through the furrowless field 
 
 Where the foam-blossoms blow 
 And the secrets are sealed 
 Of their harvest below 
 They float in the path of the sunbeams, as flakes or as 
 blossoms of snow. 
 
 Till the sea's ways darken, 
 
 And the God, withdrawn, 
 Give ear not or hearken 
 If prayer on him fawn, 
 And the sun's self seem but a shadow, the noon as a 
 ghost of the dawn.
 
 90 OFF SHORE. 
 
 No shadow, but rather 
 God, father of song, 
 Shew grace to me, Father 
 God, loved of me long, 
 That I lose not the light of thy face, that my trust in thee 
 work me not wrong. 
 
 While yet I make forward 
 
 With face toward thee 
 Not turned yet in shoreward. 
 Be thine upon me ; 
 Be thy light on my forehead or ever I turn it again from 
 the sea. 
 
 As a kiss on my brow 
 
 Be the light of thy grace, 
 Be thy glance on me now
 
 OFF SHORE. 91 
 
 From the pride of thy place : 
 As the sign of a sire to a son be the light on my face of 
 thy face. 
 
 Thou wast father of olden 
 
 Times hailed and adored, 
 And the sense of thy golden 
 Great harp's monochord 
 Was the joy in the soul of the singers that hailed thee for 
 master and lord. 
 
 Fair father of all 
 
 In thy ways that have trod, 
 That have risen at thy call, 
 That have thrilled at thy nod, 
 Arise, shine, lighten upon me, O sun that we see to be 
 God.
 
 92 OFF SHORE. 
 
 As my soul has been dutiful 
 
 Only to thee, 
 O God most beautiful, 
 Lighten thou me, 
 As I swim through the dim long rollers, with eyelids 
 uplift from the sea. 
 
 Be praised and adored of us 
 
 All in accord, 
 Father and lord of us 
 Alway adored, 
 The slayer and the stayer and the harper, the light of us 
 all and our lord. 
 
 At the sound of thy lyre. 
 At the touch of thy rod. 
 
 Air (quickens to fire
 
 OFF SHORE. 93 
 
 By the foot of thee trod, 
 The saviour and healer and singer, the living and visible 
 God. 
 
 The years are before thee 
 
 As shadows of thee. 
 As men that adore thee, 
 As cloudlets that flee : 
 But thou art the God, and thy kingdom is heaven, and 
 thy shrine is the sea.
 
 AFTER NINE YEARS
 
 AFTER NINE YEARS. 
 
 TO JOSEPH MAZZINI. 
 Primd. dicte ;ni/ii, sw?imd dicende CatnenA. 
 
 The shadows fallen of years are nine 
 Since heaven grew seven times more divine 
 With thy soul entering, and the dearth 
 Of souls on earth 
 
 Grew sevenfold sadder, wanting One 
 Whose light of life, quenched here and done, 
 Burns there eternal as the sun. 
 
 H
 
 98 AFTER NINE YEARS. 
 
 2. 
 
 Beyond all word, beyond all deed, 
 
 Beyond all thought beloved, what need 
 
 Has death or love that speech should be, 
 
 Hast thou of me ? 
 
 I had no word, no prayer, no cry, 
 
 To praise or hail or mourn thee by, 
 
 As when thou too wast man as I. 
 
 Nay, never, nor as any born 
 
 Save one whose name priests turn to scorn, 
 
 Who haply, though we know not now, 
 
 Was man as thou, 
 
 A wanderer branded with men's blame,
 
 AFTER NINE YEARS. 99 
 
 Loved past man's utterance : yea, the same, 
 Perchance, and as his name thy name. 
 
 Thou wast as very Christ — not he 
 
 Degraded into Deity, 
 
 And priest-polluted by such prayer 
 
 As poisons air, 
 
 Tongue-worship of the tongue that slays, 
 
 False faith and parricidal praise : 
 
 But the man crowned with suffering days. 
 
 God only, being of all mankind 
 Most manlike, of most equal mind 
 
 H 2
 
 TOO AFTER NINE YEARS. 
 
 And heart most perfect, more than can 
 
 Be heart of man 
 
 Once in ten ages, born to be 
 
 As haply Christ was, and as we 
 
 Knew surely, seeing, and worshipped thee. 
 
 To know thee — this at least was ours, 
 
 God, clothed upon with human hours, 
 
 O face beloved, O spirit adored. 
 
 Saviour and lord ! 
 
 That wast not only for thine own 
 
 Redeemer — not of these alone 
 
 But all to whom thy word was known.
 
 AFTER NINE YEARS. loi 
 
 Ten years have wrought their will with me 
 
 Since last my words took wing for thee 
 
 Who then wast even as now above 
 
 Me, and my love. 
 
 As then thou knewest not scorn, so now 
 
 With that beloved benignant brow 
 
 Take these of him whose light wast thou.
 
 FOR A PORTRAIT OF FELICE ORSINI
 
 &J 
 
 FOR A PORTRAIT OF FELICE OR SIN I. 
 
 Steadfast as sorrow, fiery sad, and sweet 
 
 With underthoughts of love and faith, more strong 
 Than doubt and hate and all ill thoughts which throng 
 Haply, round hope's or fear's world-wandering feet 
 That find no rest from wandering till they meet 
 Death, bearing palms in hand and crowns of song ; 
 His face, who thought to vanquish wrong with wrong. 
 Erring, and make rage and redemption meet, 
 Havoc and freedom ; weaving in one weft 
 Good with his right hand, evil with his left ;
 
 io6 FOR A PORTRAIT OF FELICE OR S INI 
 
 But all a hero lived and. erred and died ; 
 Looked thus upon the living world he left 
 So bravely that with pity less than pride 
 Men hail him Patriot and Tyrannicide.
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Over two shadowless waters, adrift as a pinnace in peril, 
 Hangs as in heavy suspense, charged with irresolute 
 light. 
 Softly the soul of the sunset upholden awhile on the 
 sterile 
 Waves and wastes of the land, half repossessed by the 
 night. 
 Inland glimmer the shallows asleep and afar in the 
 breathless 
 Twilight : yonder the depths darken afar and asleep. 
 Slowly the semblance of death out of heaven descends on 
 the deathless 
 Waters : hardly the light lives on the face of the deep—
 
 no EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Hardly, but here for awhile. All over the grey soft 
 shallow 
 Hover the colours and clouds of the twilight, void of a 
 star. 
 As a bird unfledged is the broad-winged night, whose 
 winglets are callow 
 Yet, but soon with their plumes will she cover her 
 brood from afar, 
 Cover the brood of her worlds that cumber the skies with 
 their blossom 
 Thick as the darkness of leaf-shadowed spring is en- 
 cumbered with flowers. 
 World upon world is enwound in the bountiful girth of 
 her bosom, 
 Warm and lustrous with life lovely to look on as 
 ours.
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. iii 
 
 Still is the sunset adrift as a spirit in doubt that dis- 
 sembles 
 Still with itself, being sick of division and dimmed by 
 dismay — 
 Nay, not so ; but with love and delight beyond passion 
 it trembles. 
 Fearful and fain of the night, lovely with love of the 
 day: 
 Fain and fearful of rest that is like unto death, and 
 begotten 
 Out of the womb of the tomb, born of the seed of the 
 grave : 
 Lovely with shadows of loves that are only not wholly 
 forgotten. 
 Only not wholly suppressed by the dark as a wreck by 
 the wave.
 
 112 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Still there linger the loves of the morning and noon, in a 
 vision 
 Blindly beheld, but in vain : ghosts that are tired, and 
 would rest. 
 But the glories beloved of the night rise all too dense for 
 division, 
 Deep in the depth of her breast sheltered as doves in a 
 nest. 
 Fainter the beams of the loves of the daylight season 
 enkindled 
 AVahe, and the memories of hours that were fair with 
 the love of them fade ; 
 Loftier, aloft of the lights of the sunset stricken and 
 dwindled. 
 Gather the signs of the love at the heart of the night 
 new-made.
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. \\\ 
 
 o 
 
 New-made night, new-born of the sunset, immeasurable, 
 endless, 
 Opens the secret of love hid from of old in her heart, 
 In the deep sweet heart full-charged with faultless love of 
 the friendless 
 Spirits of men that are eased when the wheels of the 
 sun depart. 
 Still is the sunset afloat as a ship on the waters upholden 
 Full-sailed, wide-winged, poised softly for ever asway — 
 Nay, not so, but at least for a little, awhile at the golden 
 
 Limit of arching air fain for an hour to delay. 
 Here on the bar of the sand-bank, steep yet aslope to 
 the gleaming 
 Waste of the water without, waste of the water within, 
 Lights overhead and lights underneath seem doubtfully 
 dreaming 
 Whether the day be done, whether tne night may begin.
 
 IT4 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Far and afar and farther again they falter and hover, 
 Warm on the water and deep in the sky and pale on 
 the cloud : 
 Colder again and slowly remoter, afraid to recover 
 
 Breath, yet fain to revive, as it seems, from the skirt 
 of the shroud. 
 Faintly the heartbeats shorten and pause of the light in 
 the westward 
 Heaven, as eastward quicken the paces of star upon star 
 Hurried and eager of life as a child that strains to the 
 breast-ward 
 Eagerly, yearning forth of the deeps where the ways of 
 them are, 
 Glad of the glory of the gift of their life and the wealth 
 of its wonder, 
 Fain of the night and the sea and the sweet wan face 
 of the earth.
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 115 
 
 Over them air grows deeper, intense with dehght in them : 
 under 
 Things are thrilled in their sleep as with sense of a sure 
 new birth. 
 But here by the sand-bank watching, with eyes on the 
 sea-line, stranger 
 Grows to me also the weight of the sea-ridge gazed on 
 of me, 
 Heavily heaped up, changefully changeless, void though 
 of danger 
 Void not of menace, but full of the might of the dense 
 dull sea. 
 Like as the wave is before me, behind is the bank deep- 
 drifted \ 
 Yellow and thick as the bank is behind me in front is 
 the wave. 
 
 I 2
 
 ii6 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 As the ^vall of a prison imprisoning the mere is the girth 
 of it lifted : 
 But the rampire of water in front is erect as the wall of 
 a grave. 
 And the crests of it crumble and topple and change, but 
 the wall is not broken : 
 Standing still dry-shod, I see it as higher than my 
 head. 
 Moving inland alway again, reared up as in token 
 
 Still of impending wrath still in the foam of it shed. 
 And even in the pauses between them, dividing the 
 rollers in sunder. 
 High overhead seems ever the sea-line fixed as a 
 mark, 
 And the shore where I stand as a valley beholden of hills 
 whence thunder
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 117 
 
 Cloud and torrent and storm, darkening the depths of 
 the dark. 
 Up to the sea, not upon it or over it, upward from under 
 Seems he to gaze, wliose eyes yearn after it here from 
 the shore : 
 A wall of turbid water, aslope to the wide sky's wonder 
 Of colour and cloud, it climbs, or spreads as a slanted 
 floor. 
 And the large lights change on the face of the mere like 
 things that were living. 
 Winged and wonderful, beams like as birds are that 
 pass and are free : 
 But the light is dense as darkness, a gift withheld in the 
 giving, 
 That lies as dead on the fierce dull face of the land- 
 ward sea.
 
 ii8 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Stained and stifled and soiled, made earthier than earth 
 is and duller, 
 Grimly she puts back light as rejected, a thing put away: 
 No transparent rapture, a molten music of colour ; 
 No translucent love taken and given of the day. 
 Fettered and marred and begrimed is the light's live self 
 on her falling, 
 As the light of a man's life lighted the fume of a dun- 
 geon mars : 
 Only she knows of the wind, when her wrath gives ear to 
 him calling ; 
 The delight of the light she knows not, nor answers the 
 sun or the stars. 
 Love she hath none to return for the luminous love of 
 their giving : 
 None to reflect from the bitter and shallow response of 
 her heart
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 119 
 
 Yearly she feeds on her dead, yet herself seems dead and 
 not living, 
 Or confused as a soul heavy-laden with trouble that 
 will not depart. 
 In the sound of her speech to the darkness the moan of 
 her evil remorse is. 
 Haply, for strong ships gnawed by the dog-toothed 
 sea-bank's fang 
 And trampled to death by the rage of the feet of her 
 foam-lipped horses 
 Whose manes are yellow as plague, and as ensigns of 
 pestilence hang. 
 That wave in the foul faint air of the breath of a death- 
 stricken city ; 
 So menacing heaves she the manes of her rollers knotted 
 with sand,
 
 I20 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 Discoloured, opaque, suspended in sign as of strength 
 without pity, 
 That shake with fiameless thunder the low long length 
 of the strand. 
 
 Here, far off in the farther extreme of the shore as it 
 lengthens 
 Northward, lonely for miles, ere ever a village begin, 
 On the lapsing land that recedes as the growth of the 
 strong sea strengthens 
 Shoreward, thrusting further and further its outworks in. 
 Here in Shakespeare's vision, a flower of her kin forsaken. 
 Lay in her golden raiment alone on the wild wave's 
 edge. 
 Surely by no shore else, but here on the bank storm- 
 shaken, 
 Perdita, bright as a dew-drop engilt of the sun on the. 
 sedge.
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 121 
 
 Here on a shore unbeheld of his eyes in a dream he 
 beheld her 
 Outcast, fair as a fairy, the child of a far-off king : 
 And over the babe-flower gently the head of a pastoral 
 elder 
 Bowed, compassionate, hoar as the hawthorn-blossom 
 in spring, 
 And kind as harvest in autumn : a shelter of shade on 
 the lonely 
 Shelterless unknown shore scourged of implacable 
 waves : 
 Here, where the wind walks royal, alone in his kingdom, 
 and only 
 Sounds to the sedges a wail as of triumph that conquers 
 and craves. 
 All these waters and wastes are his empire of old, and 
 awaken
 
 122 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 From barren and stagnant slumber at only the sound 
 of his breath : 
 Yet the hunger is eased not that aches in his heart, nor 
 the goal overtaken 
 That his wide wings yearn for and labour as hearts that 
 yearn after death. 
 All the solitude sighs and expects with a blind expec- 
 tation 
 Somewhat unknown of its own sad heart, grown heart- 
 sick of strife : 
 Till sometime its wild heart maddens, and moans, and 
 the vast ululation 
 Takes wing with the clouds on the waters, and wails to 
 be quit of its life. 
 For the spirit and soul of the waste is the wind, and his 
 wings with their waving. 
 Darken and lighten the darkness and light of it 
 thickened or thinned ;
 
 EVENING ON THE BROADS. i: 
 
 J 
 
 But the heart that impels them is even as a conqueror's 
 insatiably craving 
 That victory can fill not, as power cannot satiate the 
 want of the wind. 
 All these moorlands and marshes are full of his might, 
 and oppose not 
 Aught of defence nor of barrier, of forest or precipice 
 piled : 
 But the will of the wind works ever as his that desires 
 what he knows not, 
 And the wail of his want unfulfilled is as one making 
 moan for her child. 
 And the cry of his triumph is even as the crying of hunger 
 that maddens 
 The heart of a strong man aching in vain as the wind's 
 heart aches
 
 124 EVENING ON THE BROADS. 
 
 And the sadness itself of the land for its infinite solitude 
 saddens 
 More for the sound than the silence athirst for the 
 sound that slakes. 
 And the sunset at last and the twilight are dead : and 
 the darkness is breathless 
 With fear of the wind's breath rising that seems and 
 seems not to sleep : 
 But a sense of the sound of it ahvay, a spirit unsleeping 
 and deathless, 
 Ghost or God, evermore moves on the face of the deep.
 
 THE EMPEROR'S PROGRESS
 
 THE EMPEROR'S PROGRESS. 
 
 A STUDY IN THREE STAGES. 
 
 (On the Busts of Nero in the Uffizj.) 
 
 A CHILD of brighter than the morning's birth 
 And lovelier than all smiles that may be smiled 
 Save only of little children undefiled, 
 
 Sweet, perfect, witless of their own dear worth, 
 
 Live rose of love, mute melody of mirth, 
 Glad as a bird is when the woods are mild, 
 Adorable as is nothing save a child. 
 
 Hails with wide eyes and lips his life on earth,
 
 128 THE EMPERORS PROGRESS. 
 
 His lovely life with all its heaven to be. 
 
 And whoso reads the name inscribed or hears 
 Feels his own heart a frozen well of tears, 
 Child, for deep dread and fearful pity of thee 
 Whom God would not let rather die than see 
 The incumbent horror of impending years. 
 
 II. 
 
 Man, that wast godlike being a child, and now, 
 No less than kinglike, art no more in sooth 
 For all thy grace and lordliness of youth, 
 
 The crown that bids men's branded foreheads bow 
 
 Much more has branded and bowed down thy brov/ 
 And gnawn ujjon it as with fire or tooth 
 Of steel or snake so sorely, that the truth 
 
 Seems here to bear false witness. Is it thou,
 
 THE EMPEROR'S PROGRESS. 129 
 
 Child ? and is all the summer of all thy spring 
 This ? are the smiles that drew men's kisses down 
 All faded and transfigured to the frown 
 
 That grieves thy face ? Art thou this weary thing ? 
 Then is no slave's load heavier than a crown 
 
 And such a thrall no bondman as a king. 
 
 HI. 
 
 Misery, beyond all men's most miserable, 
 
 Absolute, whole, defiant of defence. 
 
 Inevitable, inexplacable, intense, 
 More vast than heaven is high, more deep than hell, 
 Past cure or charm of solace or of spell, 
 
 Possesses and pervades the spirit and sense 
 
 Whereto the expanse of the earth pays tribute ; whence 
 Breeds evil only, and broods on fumes that swell
 
 I30 THE EMPERORS PROGRESS. 
 
 Rank from the blood of brother and mother and wife. 
 
 'Misery of miseries, all is misery,' saith 
 The heavy fair-faced hateful head, at strife 
 
 With its own lusts that burn with feverous breath 
 Lips which the loathsome bitterness of life 
 
 Leaves fearful of the bitterness of death.
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF ALCILIA 
 
 K 2
 
 THE RESURRECTION OF A L CILIA. 
 
 (Gratefully inscribed to Dr, A. B. Grosart.) 
 
 Sweet song-flower of the Mayspring of our song, 
 Be welcome to us, with loving thanks and praise 
 To his good hand who travelling on strange ways 
 Found thee forlorn and fragrant, lain along 
 Beneath dead leaves that many a winter's wrong 
 
 Had rained and heaped through nigh three centuries' 
 
 maze 
 Above thy Maybloom, hiding from our gaze 
 The life that in thy leaves lay sweet and strong. 
 For thine have life, while many above thine head 
 Piled by the wind lie blossomless and dead.
 
 134 THE RESURRECTION OF ALCILIA. 
 
 So now disburdened of such load above 
 
 That lay as death's own dust upon thee shed 
 
 By days too deaf to hear thee like a dove 
 
 Murmuring, we hear thee, bird and flower of love.
 
 THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY
 
 THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY. 
 
 (On the refusal by the French Senate of the plenary amnesty de- 
 manded by Victor Hugo, in his speech of July 3rd, for the 
 surviving exiles of the Commune.) 
 
 Thou shouldst have risen as never dawn yet rose, 
 Day of the sunrise of the soul of France, 
 Dawn of the whole world's morning, when the trance 
 
 Of all the world had end, and all its woes 
 
 Respite, prophetic of their perfect close. 
 
 Light of all tribes of men, all names and clans. 
 Dawn of the whole world's morning and of man's 
 
 Flower of the heart of morning's mystic rose,
 
 138 THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY. 
 
 Dawn of the very dawn of very day, 
 
 When the sun brighter breaks night's ruinous prison, 
 Thou shouldst have risen as yet no dawn has risen. 
 
 Evoked of him whose word puts night away, 
 Our father, at the music of whose word 
 Exile had ended, and the world had heard. 
 
 y^ily 5, 1880.
 
 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA
 
 Mala soluta navis exit alite. 
 
 HOR. 
 Rigged with curses dark. 
 
 Milton.
 
 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA. 
 
 I. 
 
 Gold, and fair marbles, and again more gold. 
 And space of halls afloat that glance and gleam 
 Like the green heights of sunset heaven, or seem 
 
 The golden steeps of sunrise red and cold 
 
 On deserts where dark exile keeps the fold 
 Fast of the flocks of torment, where no beam 
 Falls of kind light or comfort save in dream, 
 
 These we far off behold not, who behold
 
 142 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA. 
 
 The cordage woven of curses, and the decks 
 With mortal hate and mortal peril paven ; 
 From stem to stern the lines of doom engraven 
 That mark for sure inevitable wrecks 
 Those sails predestinate, though no storm vex. 
 To miss on earth and find in hell their haven. 
 
 II. 
 
 All curses be about her, and all ill 
 
 Go with her ; heaven be dark above her way. 
 The gulf beneath her glad and sure of prey, 
 
 And, wheresoe'er her prow be pointed, still 
 
 The winds of heaven have all one evil will 
 Conspirant even as hearts of kings to slay 
 With mouths of kings to lie and smile and pray, 
 
 And chiefliest his whose wintrier breath makes chill
 
 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA. 143 
 
 With more than winter's and more poisonous cold 
 The horror of his kingdom toward the north, 
 The deserts of his kingdom toward the east. 
 And though death hide not in her direful hold 
 Be all stars adverse toward her that come forth 
 Nightly, by day all hours till all have ceased : 
 
 III. 
 
 Till all have ceased for ever, and the sum 
 Be summed of all the sumless curses told 
 Out on his head by all dark seasons rolled 
 
 Over its cursed and crowned existence, dumb 
 
 And blind and stark as though the snows made numb 
 All sense within it, and all conscience cold. 
 That hangs round hearts of less imperial mould 
 
 Like a snake feeding till their doomsday come.
 
 144 THE LAUNCH OF THE LIVADIA. 
 
 O heart fast bound of frozen poison, be 
 All nature's as all true men's hearts to thee, 
 
 A two-edged sword of judgment ; hope be far 
 And fear at hand for pilot oversea 
 
 With death for compass and despair for star, 
 And the white foam a shroud for the White Czar. 
 
 September 30, 1S80.
 
 SIX YEARS OLD
 
 SIX YEARS OLD. 
 
 To H. W. M. 
 
 Between the springs of six and seven, 
 Two fresh years' fountains, clear 
 
 Of all but golden sand for leaven, 
 Child, midway passing here, 
 
 As earth for love's sake dares bless heaven. 
 So dare I bless you, dear. 
 
 Between two bright well-heads, that brighten 
 
 With every breath that blows 
 Too loud to lull, too low to frighten. 
 
 But fain to rock, the rose, 
 
 L2
 
 148 S/X YEARS OLD. 
 
 Your feet stand fast, your lit smiles lighten, 
 That might rear flowers from snows. 
 
 You came when winds unleashed were snarling 
 
 Behind the frost-bound hours, 
 A snow-bird sturdier than the starling, 
 
 A storm-bird fledged for showers, 
 That spring might smile to find you, darling, 
 
 First born of all the flowers. 
 
 Could love make worthy things of worthless, 
 
 My song were worth an ear : 
 Its note should make the days most mirthless 
 
 The merriest of the year, 
 And wake to birth all buds yet birthless 
 
 To keep your birthday, dear.
 
 SIX YEARS OLD. 149 
 
 But where your birthday brightens heaven 
 
 No need has earth, God knows, 
 Of light or warmth to melt or leaven 
 
 The frost or fog that glows 
 With sevenfold heavenly lights of seven 
 
 Sweet springs that cleave the snows. 
 
 Could love make worthy music of you, 
 
 And match my Master's powers, 
 Had even my love less heari to love you, 
 
 A better song were ours ; 
 With all the rhymes like stars above you, 
 
 And all the words like flowers. 
 
 September 30, 18 o.
 
 A PARTING SONG
 
 A PARTING SONG. 
 
 (To a friend leaving England for a year's residence in Australia.) 
 
 These winds and suns of spring 
 
 That warm with breath and wing 
 The trembling sleep of earth, till half awake 
 She laughs and blushes ere her slumber break, 
 
 For all good gifts they bring 
 
 Require one better thing. 
 For all the loans of joy they lend us, borrow 
 One sharper dole of sorrow, 
 To sunder soon by half a world of sea 
 Her son from England and my friend from me.
 
 154 A PARTING SONG. 
 
 Nor hope nor love nor fear 
 
 May speed or stay one year, 
 Nor song nor prayer may bid, as mine would fain, 
 The seasons perish and be born again, 
 
 Restoring all we lend, 
 
 Reluctant, of a friend, 
 The voice, the hand, the presence and the sight 
 That lend their life and light 
 To present gladness and heart-strengthening cheer. 
 Now lent again for one reluctant year. 
 
 So much we lend indeed, 
 
 Perforce, by force of need, 
 So much we must ; even these things and no more 
 The far sea sundering and the sundered shore 
 
 A world apart from ours. 
 
 So much the imperious hours,
 
 A PARTING SONG. 155 
 
 Exact, and spare not ; but no more than these 
 
 All earth and all her seas 
 
 From thought and faith of trust and truth can 
 
 borrow, 
 Not memory from desire, nor hope from sorrow. 
 
 Through bright and dark and bright 
 
 Returns of day and night 
 I bid the swift year speed and change and give 
 His breath of life to make the next year live 
 
 With sunnier suns for us 
 
 A life more prosperous, 
 
 And laugh with flowers more fragrant, that shall see 
 
 A merrier March for me, 
 
 A rosier-girdled race of night with day, 
 
 A goodlier April and a tenderer May,
 
 156 A FARTING SONG. 
 
 For him the inverted year 
 
 Shall mark our seasons here 
 With alien alternation, and revive 
 This withered winter, slaying the spring alive 
 
 With darts more sharply drawn 
 
 As nearer draws the dawn 
 In heaven transfigured over earth transformed 
 And with our winters warmed 
 And wasted with our summers, till the beams 
 Rise on his face that rose on Dante's dreams. 
 
 Till fourfold morning rise 
 
 Of starshine on his eyes, 
 Dawn of the spheres that brand steep heaven across 
 At height of night with semblance of a cross 
 
 Whose grace and ghostly glory 
 
 Poured heaven on purgatory
 
 A PARTING SONG. 157 
 
 Seeing with their flamelets risen all heaven grow 
 
 glad 
 For love thereof it had 
 And lovely joy of loving ; so may these 
 Make bright with welcome now their southern seas. 
 
 happy stars, whose mirth 
 
 The saddest soul on earth 
 That ever soared and sang found strong to bless, 
 Lightening his life's harsh load of heaviness 
 
 With comfort sown like seed 
 
 In dream though not in deed 
 On sprinkled wastes of darkling thought divine, 
 Let all your lights now shine 
 With all as glorious gladness on his eyes 
 For whom indeed and not in dream they rise.
 
 158 A FARTING SONG. 
 
 As those great twins of air 
 
 Hailed once with oldworld prayer 
 Of all folk alway faring forth by sea, 
 So now may these for grace and guidance be, 
 
 To guard his sail and bring 
 
 Again to brighten spring 
 The face we look for and the hand we lack 
 Still, till they light him back, 
 As welcome as to first discovering eyes 
 Their light rose ever, soon on his to rise. 
 
 As parting now he goes 
 
 From snow-time back to snows. 
 So back to spring from summer may next year 
 Restore him, and our hearts receive him here, 
 
 The best good gift that spring 
 
 Had ever grace to bring
 
 A PARTING SONG. 159 
 
 At fortune's happiest hour of star-blest birth 
 Back to love's homebright earth, 
 To eyes with eyes that commune, hand with hand, 
 And the old warm bosom of all our mother-land. 
 
 Earth and sea-wind and sea 
 
 And stars and sunlight be 
 Alike all prosperous for him, and all hours 
 Have all one heart, and all that heart as ours. 
 
 All things as good as strange 
 
 Crown all the seasons' change 
 With changing flower and compensating fruit 
 From one year's ripening root ; 
 Till next year bring us, roused at spring's recall, 
 A heartier flower and goodlier fruit than all. 
 
 March 26, 1880.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA 
 
 M
 
 TO WALTER THEODORE WATTS. 
 ' We are what suns and winds and waters make us.' — Landor. 
 
 Sea, ivind, and sun, with light and sound and breath 
 The spirit of man ficlfilling — these create 
 That joy wherewith via?t's life grown passionate 
 
 Gaifis heart to hear ajid sense to read and faith 
 
 To know the secret word our Mother saith 
 In silence, and to see, though doubt wax great. 
 Death as the shadow cast by life on fate, 
 
 Passing, whose shade we call the shadow of death. 
 
 Brother, to whom our Mother as to me 
 Is dearer than all dreams of days undone, 
 
 This song I give you of the sovereign three 
 That are as life and sleep and death are, one : 
 
 A song the sea-wind gave me from the sea. 
 
 Where nought ofman^s ejtdures before the sun. 
 
 M 2
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 A LAND that is lonelier than ruin ; 
 
 A sea that is stranger than death : 
 Far fields that a rose never blew in, 
 
 Wan waste where the winds lack breath ; 
 Waste endless and boundless and flowerless 
 
 But of marsh-blossoms fruitless as free : 
 Where earth lies exhausted, as powerless 
 To strive with the sea.
 
 1 66 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Far flickers the flight of the swallows, 
 
 Far flutters the weft of the grass 
 Spun dense over desolate hollows 
 
 More pale than the clouds as they pass : 
 Thick woven as the weft of a witch is 
 
 Round the heart of a thrall that hath sinned, 
 Whose youth and the wrecks of its riches 
 Are waifs on the wind. 
 
 3- 
 
 The pastures are herdless and sheepless, 
 No pasture or shelter for herds : 
 
 The wind is relentless and sleepless, 
 And restless and songless the birds ;
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 167 
 
 Their cries from afar fall breathless, 
 
 Their wings are as lightnings that flee ; 
 For the land has two lords that are deathless : 
 Death's self, and the sea. 
 
 4. 
 These twain, as a king with his fellow, 
 Hold converse of desolate speech : 
 And her waters are haggard and yellow 
 
 And crass with the scurf of the beach : 
 And his garments are grey as the hoary 
 
 Wan sky where the day lies dim ; 
 And his power is to her, and his glory, 
 As hers unto him. 
 
 5- 
 In the pride of his power she rejoices, 
 
 In her glory he glows and is glad :
 
 i68 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 In her darkness the sound of his voice is, 
 With his breath she dilates and is mad : 
 
 ' If thou slay me, O death, and outlive me. 
 Yet thy love hath fulfilled me of thee.' 
 
 • Shall I give thee not back if thou give me, 
 O sister, O sea ? ' 
 
 6. 
 
 And year upon year dawns living. 
 And age upon age drops dead : 
 
 And his hand is not weary of giving, 
 And the thirst of her heart is not fed : 
 
 And the hunger that moans in her passion, 
 And the rage in her hunger that roars. 
 
 As a wolfs that the winter lays lash on, 
 Still calls and implores.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 169 
 
 Her walls have no granite for girder, 
 No fortalice fronting her stands : 
 
 But reefs the bloodguiltiest of murder 
 Are less than the banks of her sands : 
 
 These number their slain by the thousand ; 
 For the ship hath no surety to be, 
 
 When the bank is abreast of her bows and 
 Aflush with the sea. 
 
 8. 
 
 No surety to stand, and no shelter 
 To dawn out of darkness but one. 
 
 Out of waters that hurtle and welter 
 No succour to dawn with the sun
 
 I70 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 But a rest from the wind as it passes, 
 
 Where, hardly redeemed from the waves, 
 Lie thick as the blades of the grasses 
 The dead in their graves. 
 
 A multitude noteless of numbers, 
 As wild weeds cast on an heap : 
 
 And sounder than sleep are their slumbers, 
 And softer than song is their sleep ; 
 
 And sweeter than all things and stranger 
 The sense, if perchance it may be. 
 
 That the wind is divested of danger 
 And scatheless the sea. 
 
 ID. 
 
 That the roai of the banks they breasted 
 Is hurtless as bellowing of herds,
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 11 1 
 
 And the strength of his wings that invested 
 The wind, as the strength of a bird's ; 
 
 As the sea-mew's might or the swallow's 
 That cry to him back if he cries, 
 
 As over the graves and their hollows 
 Days darken and rise. 
 
 II. 
 
 As the souls of the dead men disburdened 
 And clean of the sins that they sinned, 
 
 With a lovelier than man's life guerdoned 
 And delight as a wave's in the wind. 
 
 And delight as the wind's in the billow. 
 Birds pass, and deride with their glee 
 
 The flesh that has dust for its pillow 
 As wrecks have the sea.
 
 172 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 12. 
 
 When the ways of the sun wax dimmer, 
 Wings flash through the dusk like beams ; 
 
 As the clouds in the lit sky glimmer, 
 The bird in the graveyard gleams ; 
 
 As the cloud at its wing's edge whitens 
 When the clarions of sunrise are heard, 
 
 The graves that the bird's note brightens 
 Grow bright for the bird. 
 
 13- 
 
 As the waves of the numberless waters 
 That the wind cannot number who guides 
 
 Are the sons of the shore and the daughters 
 Here lulled by the chime of the tides :
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 173 
 
 And here in the press of them standing 
 
 We know not if these or if we 
 Live truliest, or anchored to landing 
 Or drifted to sea. 
 
 14. 
 
 In the valley he named of decision 
 No denser were multitudes met 
 
 When the soul of the seer in her vision 
 Saw nations for doom of them set ; 
 
 Saw darkness in dawn, and the splendour 
 
 Of judgment, the sword and the rod ; 
 But the doom here of death is more tender 
 
 And gentler the god.
 
 174 ^y THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 15- 
 
 And gentler the wind from the dreary 
 Sea-banks by the waves overlapped, 
 
 Being weary, speaks peace to the weary 
 
 From slopes that the tide-stream hath sapped ; 
 
 And sweeter than all that we call so 
 The seal of their slumber shall be 
 
 Till the graves that embosom them also 
 Be sapped of the sea.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 175 
 
 II. 
 
 For the heart of the waters is cruel, 
 And the kisses are dire of their Hps, 
 
 And their waves are as fire is to fuel 
 To the strength of the sea-faring ships, 
 
 Though the sea's eye gleam as a jewel 
 To the sun's eye back as he dips. 
 
 2. 
 
 Though the sun's eye flash to the sea's 
 Live light of delight and of laughter,
 
 176 BY' THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 And her lips breathe back to the breeze 
 The kiss that the wind's lips waft her 
 
 From the sun that subsides, and sees 
 No gleam of the storm's dawn after. 
 
 And the wastes of the wild sea- marches 
 
 Where the borderers are matched in their might- 
 Bleak fens that the sun's weight parches, 
 
 Dense waves that reject his light — 
 Change under the change-coloured arches 
 Of changeless morning and night. 
 
 The waves are as ranks enrolled 
 Too close for the storm to sever ;
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 The fens lie naked and cold, 
 
 But their heart fails utterly never : 
 
 The lists are set from of old, 
 
 And the warfare endureth for ever. 
 
 / / 
 
 N
 
 178 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Miles, and miles, and miles of desolation ! 
 
 Leagues on leagues on leagues without a change ! 
 Sign or token of some eldest nation 
 
 Here would make the strange land not so strange. 
 Time-forgotten, yea since time's creation, 
 
 Seem these borders where the sea-birds range.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 179 
 
 Slowly, gladly, full of peace and wonder 
 Grows his heart who journeys here alone. 
 
 Earth and all its thoughts of earth sink under 
 Deep as deep in water sinks a stone. 
 
 Hardly knows it if the rollers thunder, 
 Hardly whence the lonely wind is blown. 
 
 Tall the plumage of the rush-flower tosses, 
 Sharp and soft in many a curve and line 
 
 Gleam and glow the sea-coloured marsh-mosses, 
 Salt and splendid from the circling brine. 
 
 Streak on streak of glimmering seashine crosses 
 All the land sea-saturate as with wine. 
 N 2
 
 i8o BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Far, and far between, in divers orders. 
 
 Clear grey steeples cleave the low grey sky ; 
 
 Fast and firm as time-unshaken warders, 
 Hearts made sure by faith, by hope made high. 
 
 These alone in all the wild sea-borders 
 Fear no blast of days and nights that die. 
 
 All the land is like as one man's face is, 
 
 Pale and troubled still with change of cares. 
 
 Doubt and death pervade her clouded spaces : 
 Strength and length of life and peace are theirs ; 
 
 Theirs alone amid these weary places, 
 Seeing not how the wild world frets and fares.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. iSi 
 
 6. 
 
 Firm and fast where all is cloud that changes 
 
 Cloud-clogged sunlight, cloud by sunlight thinned, 
 
 Stern and sweet, above the sand-hill ranges 
 
 Watch the towers and tombs of men that sinned 
 
 Once, now calm as earth whose only change is 
 Wind, and light, and wind, and cloud, and wind. 
 
 Out and in and out the sharp straits wander. 
 In and out and in the wild way strives, 
 
 Starred and paved and lined with flowers that squander 
 Gold as golden as the gold of hives, 
 
 Salt and moist and multiform : but yonder, 
 See, what sign of life or death survives ?
 
 1 82 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 8. 
 
 Seen then only when the songs of olden 
 Harps were young whose echoes yet endure, 
 
 Hymned of Homer when his years were golden, 
 Known of only when the world was pure, 
 
 Here is Hades, manifest, beholden. 
 Surely, surely here, if aught be sure ! 
 
 Where the border-line was crossed, that, sundering 
 Death from life, keeps weariness from rest, 
 
 None can tell, who fares here forward wondering ; 
 None may doubt but here might end his quest. 
 
 Here life's lightning joys and woes once thundering 
 Sea-like round him cease like storm suppressed.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 lo. 
 
 Here the wise wave-wandering steadfast-hearted 
 
 Guest of many a lord of many a land 
 Saw the shape or shade of years departed, 
 • Saw the semblance risen and hard at hand, 
 Saw the mother long from love's reach parted, 
 Anticleia, like a statue stand. 
 
 II. 
 
 Statue ? nay, nor tissued image woven 
 Fair on hangings in his father's hall ; 
 
 Nay, too fast her faith of heart was proven, 
 Far too firm her loveliest love of all ; 
 
 Love wherethrough the loving heart was cloven, 
 Love that hears not when the loud Fates call.
 
 1 84 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 12. 
 
 Love that lives and stands up re-created 
 Then when life has ebbed and anguish fled ; 
 
 Love more strong than death or all things fated, 
 Child's and mother's, lit by love and led ; 
 
 Love that found what life so long awaited 
 Here, when life came down among the dead. 
 
 13- 
 
 Here, where never came alive another. 
 Came her son across the sundering tide 
 
 Crossed before by many a warrior brother 
 Once that warred on Ilion at his side ; 
 
 Here spread forth vain hands to clasp the mother 
 Dead, that sorrowing for his love's sake died.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 1S5 
 
 14. 
 
 Parted, though by narrowest of divisions, 
 Clasp he might not, only might implore, 
 
 Sundered yet by bitterest of derisions, 
 Son, and mother from the son she bore — 
 
 Here ? But all dispeopled here of visions 
 Lies, forlorn of shadows even, the shore. 
 
 15- 
 
 All too sweet such men's Hellenic speech is. 
 All too fain they lived of light to see, 
 
 Once to see the darkness of these beaches. 
 Once to sing this Hades found of me 
 
 Ghostless, all its gulfs and creeks and reaches, 
 Sky, and shore, and cloud, and waste, and sea.
 
 1 86 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But aloft and afront of me faring 
 
 Far forward as folk in a dream 
 That strive, between doubting and daring 
 
 Right on till the goal for them gleam, 
 Full forth till their goal on them lighten, 
 
 The harbour where fain they would be, 
 What headlands there darken and brighten ? 
 What change in the sea ?
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 187 
 
 2. 
 
 What houses and woodlands that nestle 
 
 Safe inland to lee of the hill 
 As it slopes from the headlands that wrestle 
 
 And succumb to the strong sea's will ? 
 Truce is not, nor respite, nor pity, 
 
 For the battle is waged not of hands 
 Where over the grave of a city 
 The ghost of it stands. 
 
 Where the wings of the sea-wind slacken, 
 Green lawns to the landward thrive, 
 
 Fields brighten and pine-woods blacken, 
 And the heat in their heart is alive ;
 
 1 88 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 They blossom and warble and murmur, 
 
 For the sense of their spirit is free : 
 But harder to shoreward and firmer 
 The grasp of the sea. 
 
 Like ashes the low cliffs crumble, 
 The banks drop down into dust. 
 
 The heights of the hills are made humble, 
 As a reed's is the strength of their trust : 
 
 As a city's that armies environ. 
 
 The strength of their stay is of sand : 
 
 But the grasp of the sea is as iron. 
 Laid hard on the land.
 
 BV THE NORTH SEA 189 
 
 A land that is thirstier than ruin ; 
 
 A sea that is hungrier than death ; 
 Heaped hills that a tree never grew in ; 
 
 Wide sands where the wave draws breath ; 
 All solace is here for the spirit 
 
 That ever for ever may be 
 For the soul of thy son to inherit, 
 My mother, my sea. 
 
 6. 
 
 O delight of the headlands and beaches ! 
 
 O desire of the wind on the wold, 
 More glad than a man's when it reaches 
 
 That end which it sought from of old
 
 190 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 And the palm of possession is dreary 
 
 To the sense that in search of it sinned; 
 But nor satisfied ever nor weary 
 Is ever the wind. 
 
 The dehght that he takes but in living 
 Is more than of all things that live : 
 
 For the world that has all things for giving 
 Has nothing so goodly to give : 
 
 But more than delight his desire is, 
 
 For the goal where his pinions would be 
 
 Is immortal as air or as fire is, 
 Immense as the sea.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 191 
 
 8. 
 
 Though hence come the moan that he borrows 
 From darkness and depth of the night, 
 
 Though hence be the spring of his sorrows, 
 Hence too is the joy of his might ; 
 
 The delight that his doom is for ever 
 To seek and desire and rejoice, 
 
 And the sense that eternity never 
 Shall silence his voice. 
 
 That satiety never may stifle 
 Nor weariness ever estrange 
 
 Nor time be so strong as to rifle 
 
 Nor change be so great us to change
 
 192 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 His gift that renews in the giving, 
 
 The joy that exalts him to be 
 Alone of all elements living 
 The lord of the sea. 
 
 lO. 
 
 What is fire, that its flame should consume her ? 
 
 More fierce than all fires are her waves : 
 What is earth, that its gulfs should entomb her ? 
 
 More deep are her own than their graves. 
 Life shrinks from his pinions that cover 
 
 The darkness by thunders bedinned : 
 But she knows him, her lord and her lover. 
 The godhead of wind.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 193 
 
 II. 
 
 For a season his wings are about her, 
 
 His breath on her lips for a space ; 
 Such rapture he wins not without her 
 
 In the width of his worldwide race. 
 Though the forests bow down, and the mountains 
 
 Wax dark, and the tribes of them flee, 
 
 His delight is more deep in the fountains 
 
 And springs of the sea. 
 
 12. 
 
 There are those too of mortals that love him, 
 There are souls that desire and require, 
 
 Be the glories of midnight above him 
 Or beneath him the daysprings of fire :
 
 J 94 -BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 And their hearts are as harps that approve him 
 
 And praise him as chords of a lyre 
 That were fain with their music to move him 
 To meet their desire. 
 
 13- 
 
 To descend through the darkness to grace them, 
 Till darkness were lovelier than light : 
 
 To encompass and grasp and embrace them, 
 Till their weakness were one with his might : 
 
 With the strength of his wings to caress them. 
 With the blast of his breath to set free ; 
 
 With the mouths of his thunders to bless them 
 For sons of the sea.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 195 
 
 14. 
 
 For these have the toil and the guerdon 
 
 That the wind has eternally : these 
 Have part in the boon and the burden 
 
 Of the sleepless unsatisfied breeze, 
 That finds not, but seeking rejoices 
 
 That possession can work him no wrong : 
 And the voice at the heart of their voice is 
 
 The sense of his song. 
 
 15- 
 
 For the wind's is their doom and their blessing ; 
 
 To desire, and have always above 
 A possession beyond their possessing, 
 
 A love beyond reach of their love, 
 02
 
 196 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Green earth has her sons and her daughters, 
 
 And these have their guerdons ; but we 
 Are the wind's and the sun's and the water's, 
 Elect of the sea.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. fqy 
 
 For the sea too seeks and rejoices, 
 
 Gains and loses and gains, 
 And the joy of her heart's own choice is 
 
 As ours, and as ours are her pains : 
 As the thoughts of our hearts are her voices. 
 
 And as hers is the pulse of our veins. 
 
 Her fields that know not of dearth 
 Nor lie for their fruit's sake fallow
 
 198 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Laugh large in the depth of their mirth 
 But inshore here in the shallow, 
 
 Embroiled with encumbrance of earth, 
 Their skirts are turbid and yellow. 
 
 The grime of her greed is upon her, 
 
 The sign of her deed is her soil ; 
 As the earth's is her own dishonour, 
 
 And corruption the crown of her toil : 
 She hath spoiled and devoured, and her honour 
 
 Is this, to be shamed by her spoil. 
 
 But afar where pollution is none, 
 .'Nor ensign of strife nor endeavour,
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 199 
 
 Where her heart and the sun's are one, 
 And the soil of her sin comes never, 
 
 She is pure as the wind and the sun, 
 And her sweetness endureth for ever.
 
 20C BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 VI 
 
 I. 
 
 I3eath, and change, and darkness everlasting, 
 Deaf, that hears not what the daystar saith, 
 
 Blind, past all remembrance and forecasting, 
 Dead, past memory that it once drew breath ; 
 
 These, above the washing tides and wasting, 
 Reign, and rule this land of utter death.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 201 
 
 2. 
 
 Change of change, darkness of darkness, hidden. 
 
 Very death of very death, begun 
 When none knows, — the knowledge is forbidden — 
 
 Self-begotten, self-proceeding, one. 
 Born, not made — abhorred, unchained, unchidden. 
 
 Night stands here defiant of the sun. 
 
 Change of change, and death of death begotten, 
 Darkness born of darkness, one and three. 
 
 Ghostly godhead of a world forgotten, 
 
 Crowned with heaven, enthroned on land and sea, 
 
 Here, where earth with dead men's bones is rotten, 
 God of Time, thy likeness worships thee.
 
 202 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 Lo, thy likeness of thy desolation, 
 Shape and figure of thy might, O Lord, 
 
 Formless form, incarnate miscreation. 
 Served of all things living and abhorred ; 
 
 Earth herself is here thine incarnation. 
 Time, of all things born on earth adored. 
 
 All that worship thee are fearful of thee ; 
 
 No man may not worship thee for fear : 
 Prayers nor curses prove not nor disprove thee, 
 
 Move nor change thee with our change of cheer 
 All at last, though all abhorred thee, love thee, 
 
 God, the sceptre of whose throne is here.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 203 
 
 Here thy throne and sceptre of thy station, 
 Here the palace paven for thy feet ; 
 
 Here thy sign from nation unto nation 
 Passed as watchword for thy guards to greet, 
 
 Guards that go before thine exaltation. 
 Ages, clothed with bitter years and sweet. 
 
 Here, where sharp the sea-bird shrills his ditty, 
 Flickering flame-wise through the clear live calm, 
 
 Rose triumphal, crowning all a city. 
 
 Roofs exalted once with prayer and psalm, 
 
 Built of holy hands for holy pity, 
 
 Frank and fruitful as a sheltering palm.
 
 J04 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 8. 
 
 Church and hospice wrought in faultless fashion, 
 Hall and chancel bounteous and sublime, 
 
 Wide and sweet and glorious as compassion, 
 Filled and thrilled with force of choral chime, 
 
 Filled with spirit of prayer and thrilled with passion. 
 Hailed a God more merciful than Time. 
 
 Ah, less mighty, less than Time prevailing, 
 Shrunk, expelled, made nothing at his nod, 
 
 Less than clouds across the sea-line sailing, 
 Lies he, stricken by his master's rod. 
 
 ' Where is man ? ' the cloister murmurs wailing ; 
 Back the mute shrine thunders — ' Where is God ? '
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 205 
 
 10. 
 
 Here is all the end of all his glory — 
 
 Dust, and grass, and barren silent stones. 
 
 Dead, like him, one hollow tower and hoary 
 Naked in the sea-wind stands and moans, 
 
 Filled and thrilled with its perpetual story : 
 
 Here, where earth is dense with dead men's bones. 
 
 II. 
 
 Low and loud and long, a voice for ever, 
 Sounds the wind's clear story like a song. 
 
 Tomb from tomb the waves devouring sever. 
 Dust from dust as years relapse along ; 
 
 Graves where men made sure to rest, and never 
 Lie dismantled by the seasons' wrong.
 
 2o6 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 12. 
 
 Now displaced, devoured and desecrated, 
 Now by Time's hands darkly disinterred, 
 
 These poor dead that sleeping here awaited 
 Long the archangel's re-creating word. 
 
 Closed about with roofs and walls high-gated 
 Till the blast of judgment should be heard. 
 
 ^3- 
 
 Naked, shamed, cast out of consecration, 
 Corpse and coffin, yea the very graves. 
 
 Scoffed at, scattered, shaken from their station. 
 Spurned and scourged of wind and sea like slaves_, 
 
 Desolate beyond man's desolation, 
 Shi ink and sink into the waste of waves.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 207 
 
 14. 
 
 Tombs, with bare white piteous bones protruded, 
 Shroudless, down the loose collapsing banks, 
 
 Crumble, from their constant place detruded. 
 That the sea devours and gives not thanks. 
 
 Graves where hope and prayer and sorrow brooded 
 Gape and slide and perish, ranks on ranks. 
 
 15- 
 
 Rows on rows and line by line they crumble, 
 They that thought for all time through to be. 
 
 Scarce a stone whereon a child might stumble 
 Breaks the grim field paced alone of me. 
 
 Earth, and man, and all their gods wax humble 
 Here, where Time brings pasture to the sea.
 
 2o8 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But afar on the headland exalted, 
 But beyond in the curl of the bay, 
 
 From the depth of his dome deep-vaulted 
 Our father is lord of the day. 
 
 Our father and lord that we follow, 
 For deathless and ageless is he ; 
 
 And his robe is the whole sky's hollow, 
 His sandal the sea.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 209 
 
 2. 
 
 Where the horn of the headland is sharper, 
 And her green floor glitters with fire, 
 
 The sea has the sun for a harper. 
 The sun has the sea for a lyre. 
 
 The waves are a pavement of amber, 
 By the feet of the sea- winds trod 
 
 To receive in a god's presence-chamber 
 Our father, the God. 
 
 Time, haggard and changeful and hoary, 
 
 Is master and God of the land : 
 But the air is fulfilled of the glory 
 
 That is shed from our lord's ri2:ht hand.
 
 2IO BV THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 O father of all of us ever, 
 
 All glory be only to thee 
 From heaven, that is void of thee never, 
 And earth, and the sea. 
 
 O Sun, whereof all is beholden, 
 
 Behold now the shadow of this death, 
 This place of the sepulchres, olden 
 
 And emptied and vain as a breath. 
 The bloom of the bountiful heather 
 
 J.aughs broadly beyond in thy light 
 As dawn, with her glories to gather, 
 At darkness and night.
 
 BY THE NORTH SEA. 211 
 
 Though the Gods of the night lie rotten 
 And their honour be taken away 
 
 And the noise of their names forgotten, 
 Thou, Lord, art God of the day. 
 
 Thou art father and saviour and spirit, 
 O Sun, of the soul that is free 
 
 And hath grace of thy grace to inherit 
 Thine earth and thy sea. 
 
 The hills and the sands and the beaches, 
 
 The waters adrift and afar. 
 The banks and the creeks and the readies, 
 
 How glad of thee all these are !
 
 212 BY THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 The flowers, overflowing, overcrowded. 
 Are drunk with the mad wind's mirth 
 The delight of thy coming unclouded 
 Makes music of earth. 
 
 I, last least voice of her voices, 
 Give thanks that were mute in me long 
 
 To the soul in my soul that rejoices 
 For the song that is over my song. 
 
 Time gives what he gains for the giving 
 Or takes for his tribute of me ; 
 
 My dreams to the wind everliving. 
 My song to the sea. 
 
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