POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 2nd Lt. W. E. SMART, B A. 
 
UCSB LIBRARY 
 
POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 2nd Lt. W. E. Smart, B.A. 
 
 Written whilst a student at 
 St. Catharine's College, Cambridge. 
 
 He was afterwards killed whilst 
 
 leading his men in an attack 
 
 near Cambrai, on October llth, 
 
 1918, in his 24th year. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 ARTHUR H. STOCKWELL, 
 29, LUDGATB HILL, B.C. 4. 
 
Watts' "Hope" 
 
 Alone she sits on the deserted orb, 
 
 The last of all her race, 
 The bandage o'er her blinded eyes conceals 
 
 Her sorrow-laden face. 
 
 One only star, to her invisible, 
 
 With dim uncertain glow, 
 Is left to battle with the darkness now, 
 
 The all- victorious foe. 
 
 Over her broken harp with loving care 
 
 She, bending low, caresses 
 The one string left, and pours a melody, 
 
 Forgetting her distresses. 
 
 The light of that one star she cannot see, 
 
 Her- loneliness she feels : 
 Yet from that solitary string in hope 
 
 Sweet melodies she steals. 
 
May Day 
 
 Bells are ringing out from every steeple : 
 
 Say, what is their message blithe and gay, 
 What the news they bring to all the people ? 
 " Tis May Day." 
 
 Children on the village-green are dancing, 
 
 Clad in white on this glad holiday ; 
 What's the meaning of this merry prancing ? 
 " 'Tis May Day." 
 
 Here a pretty maiden, blushing sweetly, 
 Like a queen rules o'er the roundelay ; 
 Say, why is she crown'd with flowers so neatly ? 
 " 'Tis May Day." 
 
 And the joy-bells ever will be ringing, 
 
 And the children on the green alway 
 Merry carols to their queen be singing 
 On May Day. 
 
 Oh, that I the joy might ever capture 
 
 Of the village children at their play ! 
 Oh, that I might ne'er forget the rapture 
 Of May Day. 
 
The Moors 
 
 Around me the heather and bracken, 
 Above me the cloudless blue sky, 
 
 At my feet a murmuring streamlet 
 Which frets as it passes me by. 
 
 No wall to be seen ; open moor 
 Stretches off to the sky-line afar, 
 
 No sign of man's handiwork is there 
 This scene of wild nature to mar. 
 
 Alone I recline by the water, 
 
 This tough upland grass for my bed, 
 
 And a rock by the ages uncovered 
 Affords me a rest for my head. 
 
 The world is at peace all around me, 
 At last have I found nature's home : 
 
 But heaven itself I should call it 
 If here we together could roam. 
 
 No idle chatter can harm us, 
 No foolish tongaes shall we find, 
 
 As lost to the world here we follow 
 This wandering stream's every wind. 
 
 Then come to the moors with me, dearest, 
 And feel the fresh wind on your face ; 
 
 Alone 'mid the heather our peace 
 We shall gain at last in this place. 
 
6 
 
 A Prayer 
 
 When deepening shades of evening fall 
 In silent wonder wrapping all, 
 That calm and purest dreams be thine 
 Till o'er the earth glad morning shine 
 
 I pray. 
 
 When day's swift herald with rosy light 
 Gilds all the east with glory bright, 
 That safe God's angels thee will keep 
 Till day once more is lost in sleep 
 
 I pray. 
 
 Roundell Weep Not ! 
 
 Weep not, dear maiden, when the day 
 
 With gathering thunder seems too hot, 
 And hard and slippery is the way : 
 
 Weep not. 
 
 Though late you find he has forgot, 
 Who swore to you e'en yesterday 
 That out your memory nought could blot. 
 
 Those tears will soon your looks decay, 
 
 And beauty fair is worth a lot ; 
 A truer lover comes to-day. 
 
 Weep not. 
 
7 
 
 Death 
 
 Death, like her sister sleep, 
 
 And born the self -same day 
 Leads souls, tho' mourners weep, 
 
 To that eternal day, 
 When sorrows all shall cease 
 
 And tears shall be no more ; 
 From these death gives release 
 
 When our vain life is o'er 
 
 No tribute let us give 
 
 Of tears to dear ones dead ; 
 The soul must ever live, 
 
 The grave is but a bed. 
 But rather let us pray, 
 
 To God (and not repine) 
 That the bright heavenly ray 
 
 Of peace will o'er them shine. 
 
 In that blest home above, 
 
 On that eternal shore, 
 In heaven, crown'd by love, 
 
 Where partings are no more, 
 Our dear ones we shall greet, 
 
 In sparkling raiment bright ; 
 And never leave that seat 
 
 Of everlasting light. 
 
Serenade 
 
 The nightingale is singing, 
 His music fills the night, 
 
 While here beneath thy window 
 I watch till morning light. 
 
 Dream on then, oh my dearest, 
 A faithful watch I keep : 
 
 No harm shall e'er befall thee 
 Then sleep, beloved, sleep. 
 
 Now riding through the heavens 
 The moon with silver beams 
 
 Her glorious light revealeth, 
 And each star brightly gleams. 
 
 While here beneath thy window 
 A faithful watch I keep, 
 
 No harm shall e'er befall fchee ; 
 Then sleep, beloved, sleep. 
 
Ululatio 
 
 Boundless moors, and vast expanse 
 
 Of emptiness, 
 Where peewits cry o'er bog and peat 
 
 In loneliness. 
 
 Waving heather, toughest grass, 
 
 With here and there 
 A straggling clump of bilberry 
 
 To greet the air. 
 
 Full weary of the city throng, 
 
 Its bricks and stone, 
 I long to battle with the winds 
 
 There all alone. 
 
 This ceaseless round of gaieties 
 
 And rush is dreary ; 
 I long to feel the moorland breeze 
 
 Oh ! I am weary ! 
 
10 
 Hope 
 
 Fighting the world alone, 
 
 Why should I be 
 Henceforth for ever 
 
 Parted from thee. 
 
 Lost all I care for 
 
 Dearest and best ; 
 Eternally struggling 
 
 Here is no rest. 
 
 For sad is our lot 
 In this earthly strife ; 
 
 Whether we sink or rise, 
 All, all is strife. 
 
 Yet in the end conies peace 
 When strife is o'er, 
 
 When we attain our rest 
 Battling no more. 
 
 Whether in light we walk, 
 
 Or darkling grope, 
 Yet is there one thing left 
 
 Still have we hope. 
 
 Then let us, whate'er befall, 
 
 Ever hope on, 
 Hope we shall meet again, 
 
 When life is done. 
 
11 
 
 Lines Written in Dejection 
 
 Shadows are falling 
 
 Over the plain, 
 But my thoughts in the hills 
 
 Wander again. 
 
 There rears the poplar 
 
 Its tall waving head ; 
 Here are the willows 
 
 Drooping instead. 
 
 " Glorious freedom 
 
 Here we attain, 
 Freedom of vision 
 
 Over the plain." 
 
 This they call freedom, 
 When freedom it kills ! 
 
 Sooner I'd be a slave 
 
 k 
 
 Chain'd in by hills. 
 
 It's oh ! for the moors 
 
 With their dark springy peat ! 
 Oh ! to feel heather now 
 
 Under my feet ! 
 
 Land of adoption, 
 
 Oh ! when shall I be 
 Back in the north-land 
 
 To revel in thee ? 
 
12 
 
 Constancy 
 
 When flowers no longer bloom in spring, 
 When clouds no longer pass above, 
 
 When warmth the sun's rays cannot give, 
 Then only will I faithless prove. 
 
 Till then my love shall constant be, 
 Born of that truer love divine ; 
 
 For e'er the world was fashioned 
 It was decreed I should be thine. 
 
 Two Rondelets on His Sister's Return 
 
 At last 
 She has said by her tome, 
 
 At last 
 
 The long journey is past ; 
 From the south has she come 
 To her far northern home, 
 
 At last. 
 
 Ere long 
 She will have to return, 
 
 Ere long, 
 
 With the " good-bye" song 
 In her ears : not to yearn 
 In her absence we'll learn 
 
 Ere long. 
 
13 
 
 Vilanelle for a copy of Browning 
 
 Oh, writer of dramas and plays, 
 My comfort in every despair, 
 I would revel in all thy lays. 
 
 On thy open pages I gaze 
 
 With reverent awe and care, 
 Oh, writer of dramas and plays. 
 
 Thy poems with many arrays, 
 
 Each innermost thought lay bare ; 
 I would revel in all thy lays. 
 
 I have pondered for many long days 
 
 On tragedies or lyrics fair, 
 Oh, writer of dramas and plays. 
 
 Yet do I know none which betrays 
 
 Deeper insight than thine so rare ; 
 I would revel in all thy lays. 
 
 I crown thee with poesy's bays, 
 To weave in thy silvery hair, 
 Oh, writer of dramas and plays ; 
 I would revel in all thy lays. 
 
14 
 
 Night 
 
 Brightly gleaming boat of silver, 
 
 Floating in a starry sea, 
 Do thou bring with sweetest slumber 
 
 Calm and blissful dreams to me. 
 
 Far and wide has night outspread 
 O'er the world her raven wing, 
 
 Stars that keep their faithful watch 
 Sweetest lullabies now sing. 
 
 Moon and stars alone are wakeful, 
 All the world is wrapped in sleep, 
 
 Sorrows now are all forgotten, 
 Dry the tears of them that weep. 
 
15 
 
 The Land of Dreams 
 
 There's a country known to the children ; 
 
 Each night they journey there, 
 When the stars shine bright in the heavens, 
 
 And the sun has lost its glare. 
 
 None work in that happy land, 
 
 For the window of every shop teems, 
 
 With toys for the children who reign, 
 In that glorious land of Dreams. 
 
 No u grown-ups " there are seen, 
 For a maiden is Queen of the May, 
 
 And the only law they enforce, 
 
 Is that childhood shall last for aye. 
 
 There they meet with Peter Pan, 
 And his pirates and Indians too ; 
 
 And they feast on the nectarine's fruit, 
 And drink the evening dew. 
 
 Oh, I would that I once more, 
 
 Could travel to that far land, 
 Where May- day knows no end, 
 
 And join the children's band. 
 
16 
 
 Three Rondelets Compulsion 
 
 I must, 
 You say, compose for you a verse, 
 
 I must ; 
 
 Nor gather 'neath my pen the dust ; 
 Then let it be both short and terse, 
 If you will have me make bad worse, 
 
 I must. 
 
 I will 
 Attempt to do your bidding then. 
 
 I will 
 
 Employ for you my finest quill. 
 Though such I fear is past my ken, 
 At your request I'll test my pen ; 
 
 I will. 
 
 'Tis done, 
 My weak attempt has lost its hold, 
 
 'Tis done. 
 
 My new-born power has come and gone, 
 The fire is quenched and now is cold, 
 My lost afflatus ; but, behold, 
 
 Tis done. 
 
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