THE SEDUCTIV: a r % v>. IFLJ-.S:S AND SOU ,/ " \ J. Af. STUART-YOUNG THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES n THE SEDUCTIVE COAST WEST AFRICAN FICTION BY THE SAME AUTHOR MERELY A NEGRESS A CUPFUL OF KERNELS THE SOUL SLAYER The Seductive Coast POEMS LYRICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE FROM WESTERN AFRICA God gave all men all earth to love, But since our hearts are small, Ordained for each one spot should prove Beloved over all. R-udyard Kipling. To each his taste, corrupt or chaste, Ours not the Home Land far i But Love and Toil on the sandy soil Of Pagan Africa. The Author. BY J. M. STUART.YOUNG LONDON, E.C. JOHN OUSELEY, LTD. 15 AND 16, FARRINGDON STREET 1909 Copyright 1909. A II Rights Reserved First Impression. Five Hundred Copies, Fifty copies being numbered 1-50 and autographed. Colonial Edition, Two Hundred and Fifty Copies The author may be consulted, through the publisher, about musical rights 037 ARGUMENT NOW as the dusk fell, Love remained disconsolate and despised in the Garden of the World. And she heard sounds and sighings and weepings of men and women around her. And it was like unto the diapason note of a great organ. Withal some of the sounds were sweet unto her ears. So she arose and sought out the arbour-close where she knew the Mother of Men to abide. And lo ! near to a cool and pleasant stream she met Eve. And Eve said unto her : "Whither goest thou?" And Love answered : " I go on my Errand of Mercy. God has sent me to the World, that I may teach the Sons of Men what Heaven contains, and has to offer in the way of com- pensation and reward ! " And Eve smiled mockingly. "What then is this wondrous gift?" And Love answered: "Spiritual Love, and the Annihilation of Carnal Desire ! " Still Eve continued to deride. Whereat Love grew dis- pleased, and began to discourse rapturously of the Soul- Harmony of Heaven. But the Mother of Men would not be beguiled. So Love offered her Gold as a present. But Eve said: "Thou canst not further corrupt me ! " Then Love offered her frankincense and myrrh and sweet spices. But Eve said : " I am not yet ready to be entombed ! " So Love tried to convert her with jewels ; and Eve said : " Thou canst adorn me no more, for Man is lavish in his Gifts v 764984 vi ARGUMENT of Good Things ; and asks in return only the warmth of my arms. He does not dare to molest my Soul!" Then Love cried in anger and despair : " Lo, until now that I behold how little esteemed are the Joys of Heaven ; and at what high value are held the Pleasures of Earth ; I did not know how needless tarries my presence in the Scheme of Created Things ! " And the Darkness crept from the Face of the Water, and draped the Garden of Known Delights in its garment of sable. The stars came out ; one, two, twenty, a thousand, a countless host ; shining and rambling in the clear sky, looking down upon the world that could have the heart to despise God's Blessings, with clear gaze, limpid, full of wonder. But Love returned in silence to her Hiding Place of Regrets. And ever the organ note of sorrow and sighing came upon the air from the Garden of Known Delights. CONTENTS PAGE Flecti, Non Frangi ... ... ... ... i African Night ... ... ... ... 2 Gems ... ... ... ... 3 In the Bush ... ... ... ... ... ... 4 A Legend of Islam ... ... ... ... 6 On the Sands ... ... ... ... 7 Silence ... ... ... ... 8 Song of Hope ... ... ... ... .. ... 8 The Singer ... ... ... ... 9 Between Onitsha and Aboutchi ... ... 10 In Tune ... ... ... ... 12 Dismissal ... ... ... ... 13 A Quest ... ... ... ... 14 Morning ... ... ... ... 15 Leper's Hill ... ... ... 16 April to June ... ... ... ... 17 Song of the Old Men ... ... ... 18 Song of the Old Women ... ... ... 19 Celibacy ... ... ... ... 20 The Five Senses ... ... ... ... 21 Recognition ... ... .* ... 22 A Visitant ... ... ... ... 23 Rent ... ... ... ... 24 Nightmare ... ... ... 25 Laus Deo ... ... ... ... 26 vii viii CONTENTS PAGE Interior Warfare ... .... ... ... 27 A Sea Picture ... .... ... ... 29 Sighs ... ... ... ... 30 The Bridal Night ... ... ... 31 Payment ... ... ... ... 32 Crimson Leaves ... ... ... ... 33 At Sunrise ... ... ... ... 34 Good-Night ... ... ... ... 36 Youth's Penalty ... ... ... ... 37 Alone ... ... ... ... 38 The Lover who Rode Away ... ... ... ... ... 40 Song of Sorrow ... ... ... ... 41 Vade Mecum ... ... ... ... ... ... 42 Farewell, White Girl and England ... ... 44 Impression ... ... ... ... ... ... 46 My Lady ... ... ... ... 47 Aunty Nan ... ... ... ... 48 Casual Pleasure ... ... ... ... 50 White of Dawn ... ... ... ... 51 Song of Africa ... ... ... ... 52 Rejuvenation ... ... ... ... ... ... 53 The Spinner ... ... ... ... 54 MAINLY LOCAL AND TOPICAL Men of the Niger ... ... ... ... 57 Habeas Corpus ... ... ... ... 59 Our Nurses ... ... ... ... 59 Under City Walls ... ... ... ... 60 The Mosquito ... ... ... ... 61 My Marmoset ... ... ... ... ... ... 62 CONTENTS ix PAGE ProhPudor! ... ... ... ... 65 His Reverie An Outsider Uzo's Tarrying ... ... ... ... A Trifling Episode ... Colloquial ... ... ... ... Inspiration ... ... ... ... Prayer to Innocence ... ... ... ....... The Great Ju-ju of Ibo ... ... ... Cocktail Hour ... ... ... ... The Toll of the Bush ... ... The Rainy Season : an Impression ... ... The White and the Black ... ... ... ALetterHome ... ... ... ... The Negro Fireman ... ... ... The Dry Season : an Impression ... ... Toasts ... ... .. ... An Epitaph ANANIA, KANANI MAIDEN ... 89 STRAYS Banished ... ... ... ... 117 On the Stream ... ... ... ... u8 The Prism ... ... ... .. 120 The Summit ... ... ... ... 121 White Rose ... ... ... ... 122 Invocation ... ... ... ... 123 A Warning ... ... ... ... 124 The Miracle ... 125 x CONTENTS PACK Love's Masquerade ... ... ... ... 126 Reverie ... ... ... ... 127 Silence ... ... ... ... 128 Sudden Meeting ... ... ... ... 129 Vacillation ... ... ... ... 130 Experience, not Years ... ... ... 131 Thought and Action ... ... ... 132 A Maiden's Eyes ... ... ... ... 133 Retro Me ... ... .. ... 134 Triolets ... ... ... ... 135 Allada's Song on the River Bank ... ... 137 Timor Mortis Conturbat Me ... ... ... 138 Venus and Love ... ... . ... 139 The First Mating ... ... ... ... 140 The Garden ... ... ... ... 144 Comparisons ... ... ... ... 142 Sleep and Waking ... ... ... ... 143 A Glimpse ... ... ... ... ... ... 144 The Monk ... ... ... ... 145 Love ... ... ... ... 146 Toward England ... ... ... ... 147 Aphrodite ... ... ... ... 149 Phantom Love ... ... ... ... 150 Nidallah ... ... ... ... 151 Natura Benigna ... ... ... ... 153 The Mid Season ... ... ... 154 Renunciation ... ... ... ... 155 A Shadowed Thought ... ... ... 158 Roses and Lilies ... ... ... ... 159 The Seductive Coast ... ... ... 160 Impression: at a French Port ... ... 161 Author's Postscript ... ... ... 162 FLECTI, NON FRANGI T HAVE made scores of Little Songs* * That tell the Pain and Pleasure found in Love ; And sung them blithely 'mid the Throngs Who learned no whit thereof. In loving I have given my Soul To many Mouths, and thrown my Youth away ; I have relinquished all Control Till Life is sere and gray. Now that my weary Eyes are blind No spotless Magic is evoked for me ; My Lovers have been more than kind In Gifts of Ecstasy ! And yet no other Crown, dear God ! Crave I for tired and haggard Brow Though I, who reel 'neath Passion's Rod Am glutted satiate now ! Still make I scores of Little Songs, And chant the Pain and Pleasure found in Love, Hoping my kind, amid the Throngs "Will taste the Sweets thereof I AFRICAN NIGHT I"* HE dancers come and go, ^ With swaying limbs and heavylidded eyes, The while the eager and ecstatic cries Of clapping maidens falter, like the flow And ebb of tide rebellious, on the sounding rocks below. The torches flush the throng, And cast their roses round the restless feet : Poor dusky children I moving to the beat Of clam'rous tonvtom and the heated song, My heart is sadder, as I watch, than your keen joys are strong. Ye chant the lust of gain, Clap hands for baubles and to dross propend j The little street is nocent end to end With ruder thoughts and grosser hints of stain, As sweetest fruit from graveyard carries hint of subtle pain. Afric ! land of recoil, Home of the night, with dawn-breeze far away, Too long thy shadowy dancers have held sway Upon the sordid and ignoble soil, That but too thinly covers o'er a hell of sordid toil I Afric ! in silks arrayed, Waiting for bridal with the outer world Thou know'st not Anguish nor the Pain impearl'd Within the Wine of Thought. Thy Sorrows fade Into the haze and twilight of a Merry Masquerade ! GEMS Womb of the pregnant Past, Mother of many Nations long outgrown, All that remains of thy once mighty Throne Is this, a group of careless Slaves with fast And ready feet* each night the twin and echo of the last ! Af ric, awake ! awake ! The day creeps onward* and thy dance is Death : Take heed of Life and mark the reedy breath Of Time's advance. Disperse the dancers ! Break Thy rusty shackles, for thy past and future's bitter sake ! GEMS I"* HE Ruby of Love, and the Sapphire of Friendship ; * The Diamond of Baby Laughter ; The Amber of Faith, and the Opal of Memory With the Splendour that lingers after : These be my Quest, my Eternal Quest, The goal of my firm employ These may I seek till the night brings rest, And the Treasure without Alloy. IN THE BUSH 'TITflD the trees flame Forest Glory, while the clouds are ^^ pearly gray; 'Neath a eucalyptus hoary we sit watching by the way Antique Niger's breast is crimson, stirred by night air cool and sweet, And the sun (the mountains* rims on) flushes you from brow to feet! Dusky children all go singing, fragrant blossoms in their hands ; And soft'throated bells are ringing where the Roman Mission stands : The dim marsh's shadows shiver as a black hawk wheels along, Making for the languorous river and its comrade's raucous song. Throughout Nature, free or laden insect, saurian, fish or bird, Beast or bushman, man or maiden, is the Lay of Living heard : This strong Law is never-failing, for Creation may not rest, And her will is all'availing, constant wooing as the test ! Life has little else to store us j mortal man has naught to lose ; Let us take what lies before us, wherefore, loved one, then refuse ? What is Force without Achieving ? Now the Gleam has led so far Crown we all our sweet believing: scorn the rushlight for the star! 4 IN THE BUSH 5 Gladly seize the fleeting minute in the Forest's scented gloom, While the bud has honey in it, while the blossom is in bloom ; In this fervid Christmas weather rest we softly on the grass, And in warm embrace together count the moments as they pass* If dark Fate should punish after, claiming surfeit as her due, We will drown her tears in laughter, thinking of the joy we knew! For th* impetuous mood has hastened, and each hour has faster feet, Let us welcome it unchastened, take the Fruit and gladly eat. 'Mid the trees are shadows falling, and the sky is ashen gray ; We can hear the cuckoo calling, as we falter by the way Force was naught without Achieving; and the Gleam had led so far We were weak, and (past retrieving I) scorned the rushlight for the star I A LEGEND OF ISLAM jl TTAN'S hand was knocking at the Great God's door, I"* The weary echoes drifted on the wind : " Ah, let me in ! I yearn for home once more* The way is long, and peace is far behind/* Then called a Voice, muffled but sweetly strong, " "Who seeks me there ? " Man answered, ** It is I." But ominous silence waited him for long, And louder yet the blast went sweeping by. " Think not these walls hold room for you and Me, These ample walls with splendid glory bright I ** The door stood barred. Man's fervent energy Was spent in vain j around him loomed the night. But patiently his hand knocked on, while gleamed The morning palely in the eastern sky. With trembling lips he waited. Downward streamed Rosy red banners from the sun on high. Once more his soul is thrilled ; he whispers ** Now," As breaks upon his ear that Voice from Home. ** Ah, who comes there ? " Man answers, '* It is Thou ! " "Wide opes the door, the Great God bids him " Come/* ON THE SANDS by the sea* when the gray spume flies, Comes a thrilling sense of pride j For beneath my feet is the swinging deck, And over the waves I ride ; And my soul is the soul of a corsair king, Whose bones rot under the sea, And 'tis in the night when the wet wind blows That these weird thoughts fly to me. E'en in the day, when the city hums With the clamour of wasteful life, My soul awakes to another sense, And bends to the roar of strife, The masted ships and the naked men, Bespattered with dirt and blood, The clash of the cutlass, the roar of the gun, And the speeding bullet's thud ! But 'tis in the night, when the sea-gull calls, And a storm is hovering nigh, That the alien soul thrills through my veins, And the phantom ships drift by j Night is the time of my dreams, the hour* When the wild thought comes to me, That the soul of an alien king is mine, Whose bones rot under the sea I SILENCE VOICE from out the Silences, Drifting across the Sea, I never know what Silence is Until you come to me. My soul exults in Harmony, You cry of Love to me ; You whisper of Eternity, O Voice from out the Sea ! SONG OF HOPE TVTHEN locks are gray, that once were gold, And eyes have lost their light, Ah ! Tell me not Love's tale is told, That Love has taken flight. When faculties their powers resign, And Youth is thrown aside, Ah ! deem not that the Love divine Has swiftly, surely died. The throbbing, golden string that makes Love's music in the heart, To fuller melody awakes When earthly things depart* And when awaking from Life's Dream, The Soul spreads forth her wing, Love swells with everlasting theme The songs the Angels sing ! 8 THE SINGER LIVING alone* he sang of Strife and Pain For he had lived, and trod the Rocky Way : He knew that Joy and "Wayward Pleasure, ta'en From out Self's Eyes, may not for longtime stay ! The man who sins must find that Life is hard, That, in the Core, all Fruits have Bitterness ; So (leaving Evil) he sought out the Scarred, The pale and patient face of Sinlessness ! Then suddenly his Lyre took sweeter strings, A level lightness stole across his lay He sang the wondrous thrill that Loving brings : A Love that lasts unwearied through the Day ! For he whose heart enshrines Another's Eyes Must find that music may not rise from One Ah ! 'tis the Loving, not the Loved that tries Man's Finer Nature when Youth's zest is done I BETWEEN ONITSHA AND ABOUTCHI HHE dawn is gray and cold; the Niger's shore ^ Is sodden as a sponge ; and all the air Seems fraught with Hints of Sorrow evermore With intimate allusions to Despair. Faintly from N'Kissi Beach I hear the Bells That call each Priest to bow the reverent knee ; But such a humid atmosphere compels Much more of Distaste than of Ecstasy ! Embittered by the simple sound, I go Into the ponderous Bush that round me lies : Past where the sluggish amber waters flow To where the slopes of old Aboutchi rise. Here stand the Gardens that the Company * In Chartered Days made fair with waving Palm, With Eucalyptus, Balsam, Mango Tree And rarest Plants endowed with grace and charm. How quickly and how far man's skill may range Yet Branch of Progress seems to bear no fruit ! What use these contests 'gainst the Law of Change : For see ! Naught now remains but Weed and Root ! * The Niger Company, Limited. 10 BETWEEN ONITSHA AND ABOUTCHI n Is it not best ? This Forest's fragrant calm Was troubled for a spell by Man's Increase ; Its wanton moods and its unlicensed charm Turned into paths of rectitude and peace j Still has it shown supremacy ! The dawn Greets its Triumphant Face and Loosened Chains ; Invading footsteps long have been withdrawn, And Lonely Pride irrevocable reigns ! " Man's Rule is Futile ! " Hark ! the rumour comes : " His being moves within restricted rings And the Great Maker's funereal drums Beat him to Death no ordeal solace brings ! " Yea ! he must die ; and this thought desolate Restrains his Onward March o'er Nature's Field ; Love but a Bitter Fruit remains, and Fate Holds him in fee, and will no Comfort yield ! " No use to cry in agony, * Relent, Ye mighty Powers, and hear us when we pray ! ' It is the Fashion of the Firmament To hide its Secret through our Fleeting Day ! " Alas, how true it is ! How true, alas ! We are we were and lo ! another comes J And, as we onward move, tumultuous drums Make clamour terrible : Each race must pass ! Even should human life by us be given To some frail Offspring (surest pride we know ! ) Where is the Pledge and Guarantee of Heaven ? A Seed is sown and hence a Plant must grow ! IN TUNE No more than this ? The Forest's chilly smile Replies ** No more than this : You are as I : Less infinite than the Niger or the Nile A Puny Thing 'neath an Indifferent Sky ! " Ah ! Forest Murmurs in the chilly Dawn ; Ah ! Idle River seeking out the Sea, Your pregnant murmurs make the heart forlorn, And show to Man his aimless Finity ! IN TUNE A S a bell in a chime *^ Sets its relative ringing, So one poet's rhyme Wakes his comrade to singing. DISMISSAL " OUR heart was mortgaged to me. So I paid no rent ; and would not show My right to dwell : You come and sternly bid me go, And thus** Farewell/* O, I have liv'd in many a heart, And felt the speeding arrow's smart In breasts so true : But you had ne'er a counterpart Among the few ! You bid me go in mocking jest, Nor deem that in your throbbing breast I lov'd alone: Yet not alone, Hope was my guest Upon a throne. And I must roam outside once more : A silent worshipper, adore Your fairy face; But memory will hold in store This last embrace ! A QUEST ... I felt my relaxed hand taken and turned softly between the soft hands of a child. So at last I had triumphed. In a moment I would turn and acquaint myself with those quick-footed wanderers. . . . The little brushing kiss fell in the centre of my palm as a gift on which the fingers were, at once, expected to close: as the all-faithful half- reproachful signal of a waiting child not used to neglect even when grown- ups were busiest a fragment of the mute code devised very long ago. Then I knew. And it was as though I had known from the first. . . . "They." f CHASE my Dream-Love through the night, * A shadow that has never been : Out of the dark, into the light, When winter air is keen. My mouth upon her eyes, her hair, '* Sweet, sweetest one, I worship thee ! '* Against the wall of misty air, I follow to the sea. (Last night I heard her wailing Out in the dark and sleety din, But her quest was unavailing, I dared not let her in !) Her shadow leads me through the night, To the margin of the sea ; Out of the dark, into the light, I follow ceaselessly. 14 MORNING 15 "All other loves are safe in bed* Dear mortal, let me in ! " I open wide my arms. The dead Sweep by with mocking grin. " Oh, I will warm thy heart, my sweet, Thy breast unto my breast ! ** I sometimes hear her stealthy feet, " Creep then into your nest! " O shame ! to let her roam outside, A poor forbidden guest : The night is dark, the rain runs wide, And passion's in my breast ! MORNING C ILENCE. The sky an opal bowl j ^ Dim distances of fire ; And, oh ! The peaceful hours shall roll To their home of bought Desire, LEPER'S HILL Leper creeps along the sandy street, Shuffling his shaken and tormented feet. (Heed what I say I) His eyes are haggard ; his parched cheeks are thin ; His brow is scarred with cruel scourge of sin ; The body witnesses foul soul within. (Run away* you Little Ones, Run away !) The stagnant pools well know his weary form ; The bones show gaunt upon a breast unwarm. (Heed what I say !) For at his tainted presence all things sweet Are blighted and made filthy. Do not greet The lurking looks that Youth and Beauty cheat ! (Run away, you Little Ones* Run away I) Beware the dreadful Leper. . . . Who will tell That to his heart the words make funeral knell ? (Run away I) That he creeps, Plague-haunted to the busy market-place* That he may gaze upon a Baby-Face, Marking its Innocence, at hurried pace ? Or joy a mother sips From rosebud lips ? His food is Death, while he draws our breath I (Run away, you Little Ones, Run away I) 16 APRIL TO JUNE , when I met you first, I mark'd your eyes Look out like brooding stars in April skies ; And when I murmur'd low your babyname Your words were calm, collected : e'en the same As they had been in that dim Long Ago. I stammering spoke because I loved you so ! Sweet, when I saw you last, your eyes droop'd down Before my gaze ; you talk'd of books, the town, And parried with me in learn'd subtlety Of modern things. But clearly I could see That though you veil'd the wonder of your eyes, You lov'd me with the ardour of May skies ! And now we meet. . . . You look me through and through With pride perspicuous, while the early dew Of Love is rising. Then a mighty fire Leaps arrowy from your face. And now Desire Has combated reserve and won, Your eyes Meet mine and mate in sun of fair June skies ! SONG OF THE OLD MEN (To the Youthful Courtesans) TV TOT in vain have you delayed us : * ^ For out 1 Heart was calling, calling* Though Life's Twilight may be falling And Youth's glamour far away : By the Holy God that made us* Sin's Result looms hence appalling But your Love is calling, calling, And we yield to you tO'day ! We have aged while we have listened, For our steps are halted, halted, On your Threshold, shame-exalted, And Distaste is far away ; Here Life's Stream has ever glistened, And our Tears its Depths have salted ; So our steps are halted, halted, And we bide with you to-day ! 18 SONG OF THE OLD WOMEN (In Jealous Mood) VEN as the red that rages in the night, Where indolent Hausas weary of their home Have filled the hamlet with a lurid light : So are the thirsts that to our parched mouths come ; Ah ! We are old, and can no more to birth Bring laughing children : worn with Man's calm lust Our wombs are empty, and our breasts are dearth ; Barren are we ... yet yearn because we must ! O that our blood were made of thinner stuff, And that our husbands were in arid land, That we might shed it, till they cried " Enough ! " As they lay panting on the scorching sand I The little lives we carried ! Ours when weak, And ours when stirring underneath the heart : Life tore them from our arms, and left us bleak For fated man and mother seem to part ! Our sister-wives . . . (God's curse be on them !) fair And very young are they I No chance remains To us of Love or Passion. . . . Have a care That newfound Smiles bring not their After Pains I 19 20 CELIBACY We stand as those who sip a Luscious Grape At heat of noon, but find no taste appeased ; And after stern endurance turn to rape The sun-dried skin, averse yet partly pleased ! Ye men, ye men what can we do for you ? By Time's cold Hand our Want is set above The warmth of mouth and breast. . . . Though arrowed through By Great Desire we are forbid to love ! CELIBACY * I f HINK not the poet loves like common clay ; He woos his Art, and to his Muse is wed Vain all thy deeds, and all that thou can'st say : He likes no other amour to his bed. THE FIVE SENSES NIGHT creeps along the dark'ning field, And the horizon, tree by tree, Fades into haze. O Nature, yield Me sight of eyes that I may see I A few faint stars are in the sky, (I flee from a voice of fear I) The reeds sing low as I pass by, O give me ears that I may hear I But to have lain upon the grass One perfect day, within a dell ; And known the flowers all pallid pass Give me the sense that I may smell ! Here in the mist-enfolded lane In pensive evening, mooncloud'chased j Mark, how the lingering sunbeams wane, Give me the lips that I may taste ! Angels have spoken in my dreams, And walked with me the bracken low : King Christ has spoken in the gleams Of cleaner thought, O let me know! 21 RECOGNITION "PVRAWN face I loved O heavy-lidded one, ^~* "With sunken cheeks of red and ivory brow, Your treacherous charms I would for ever shun : For I have left my wild existence now I Almoned pale, cold, sinful, wearyeyed, Can it be possible your mouth I know ? Cease from your ministrations at my side Give room to pass ! My feet would swifter go I Your lips are Gates of Hell, that, falsely dumb, Have ceased to smile, and never seek to sing ; How the shamed flushes to my own cheeks come To think that once you shadowed everything ! Begone ! Begone ! No longer hinder me ! A purer aspiration bids me run Toward the Open Spaces of the Sea, The Far Horizon and the August Sun I Begone* . . What dost thou murmur in my ear ? Thou art my Soul? and with me still must dwell! Dear Christ ! You kiss me, and I shake wifh fear All hope is gone : my Fairer Life, Farewell ! 22 A VISITANT O you are come ? Shake out your fragrant hair, That I may feel the restless stir and scent Of those remember'd odours, that prepare My lips for soft caresses confident* Night gives this priceless moon of tenderness, (But soon the morn will steal athwart the door :) And look, it throws inconstant comeliness Upon your face, alive with lyric lore. This happy night, let us forget the world, As we lie wakeful, you and I alone, Each in the other's arms, the while unfurl'd Love's banner floats beside our tiny throne. sleep together here, with ne'er a third ; To lips and hearts sufficient, knowing well The sights we see and sounds so dimly heard Are light and shade of passion's peerless spell. " The little more, " how sweetly much it is I 11 The little less, " and ah ! what worlds away! " How the low breath may quicken unto bliss, Or the slow speech but dally with delay ! Ah ! * . . Sudden, looking up, we see the morn, The sun, penurious, gleaming on the pane ; It bids us leave the realm where Love is born, And face the sting of seething strife again. c 23 RENT " Good'bye, good'bye,*' between our lips we breathe. You fade like phantom on the morning air ; I turn to dream, and once again to sheathe The raptured memory of your fragrant hair. For on my lonely path Love's vision keen Will piece again the memory of this night ; And all my waking thoughts be coloured bright With the blest thought of moments that have been ! RENT OD for this "World bright and gay I* in Thy Mansion of Time, Lovingly, reverently pay Rent with the run of a Rhyme. NIGHTMARE (A Sleep Fragment) YVTHEN the powers of night have fallen ** Upon my heavy eyes, Why am I haunted by your hand ? When dreadful forms have crawlen Into my bed, despise Not the love called contraband ! Tall your shadow grows beside me, By the crimson curtain's fold ; I see your cool mesmeric palms ; Your eyes with scorn deride me, (O for the night-air cold I) In quiet unfever'd calms. Near my bed while I am sleeping, Till the shadows all are fled, I can see your fingers thrilling through The air : a keen vigil keeping. (O for the weary bed I) Why, gone, do I dream of you ? 25 LAUS DEO OTARS, O Stars* in the brooding Skies, ^ Mistily glowing, shining, What do you tell to my longing eyes Uplifted in useless pining? ** I say to you, mortal soul, be strong For Dawn will come though the Night be long ! ' Stream, O Stream, in your onward course, Restlessly, urgently flowing, What do you tell of the mountain source Or the sea to which you are going ? " I say to you, mortal, God is good, For he knows our heart in its every mood 1 " Wind, O Wind, in the shivering trees Sleepily whispering, swaying, What do you tell that will Thought appease, What, O Wind, are you saying ? " I say to you, weary mortal, rest, For sweet is sleep and compliance best I " Night, wise Night, with your wondrous calm, Soothing my heart, O Mother, Give to me more of your healing balm : Rebellious passions smother. '* Hush, hush, my little one, do not weep ! God watches on, though you wake or sleep ! " 26 INTERIOR WARFARE I * I 'HE cuckoo haunts the forest, dim and shady; ^ *Tis here we lay, where sunshafts mark the grass ; This lonely bird has often seen my lady, And heard our whispers where the swift hours pass. That was an earlier spring, when other flowers, And other fruits hung on the heavy trees : All earth seemed glad of her primordial powers, While insects frolicked on the balmy breeze. You, darling one, had come from sunslope tender j Your lips were rosy as your eyes were black ; Your skin was satin-soft ; your body slender ; And I possessed them all, nor gave them back. And thus we pleasured in the summer weather, Your hands in mine. ... The ruddy sun hung low ; And wood'doves cooed to see us meet together, Until the night's behest made me to go. II A year has flown I have been free from duty, Have languished in my Northland white and drear ; And now, where are you ? Gone where, is your beauty ? (My soul is stricken with an awful fear I) 27 28 INTERIOR WARFARE The gentle peace of this deserted village Has lost (and repossessed) its golden breath One knows that it has witnessed fire and pillage : Men, women, helpless children, gone to death ! Who killed you, sweetheart ? I would slay that native Without one moment's thought of After Cost We witless Whites are made so contemplative By "Little English " Thought, that Pride is lost ! Where are you gone ? And where lost is your Beauty ? Would that to-day my clutching hand might sin : Have right to do what I must hold my duty Take Life for Life, and satisfaction win ! The cuckoo haunts the forest dim and shady ; *Tis here we lay where sunshafts mark the grass The lonely bird will no more see my lady, Nor hear our whispers where the long hours pass ! A SEA PICTURE A LL stealthily the tide creeps in, ^^ The seagulls wing with weirder cry, As down the bay the boats skim by, Like souls releas'd from secret sin. Night breezes from the coast-line rush j The sky is hazed with ruddier gold, As though a lover over-bold Had waked his paramour to blush. The prospect fades in bluer gray, "While clouds array'd in lilac dress Reflect the sun's last ruddiness* And breathe the psalm of parting day* Swifter the mists enshroud, and flows The tide in purls so stealthily : What can there be 'twixt you and me O flush of cheeks, O damask rose ? 29 SIGHS O SWEET sad wind, wandering through the arches Of quivering trees, whisper as you creep ; Sing thou my song through dark and dismal larches, While tired and weary workers lie asleep ! O snarling fretting storms, full of grief and passion, Hush ye to minor cadence, soft and sweet and low ; Sing not of stress, but chant in restful fashion Sing of the happy days I used to know ! Release my soul, so sad and calm and lonely, Spread now thy downy pinions round about ; Give me from out thy stores of riches only Her dear dreanvface ! Oh, free my soul from doubt 1 THE BRIDAL NIGHT (Iconia Adora) , deep is the delight In the sable quiet of night To muse upon the moment, nearly come* When with soft reluctant feet, Faintly scented, fair and sweet, The Wife shall creep to Canopy of Home ! Fresh and fit the sheets are spread On th' appointed bridal bed, Where the perfumed air would almost seem to swoon ; Frangipani, (fitting flower I) Marks the fragrance of the hour, While the stainless Lily matches white of Moon ! The Groom's heart sings a song, Though each moment seems too long ; And he travels in his thoughts to Paradise. From Time's shore he boards a Ship That shall take him for a trip Through Delightful Ocean, lit by her clear eyes ! She is young, and very fair ; And the raven of her hair Is the keynote of her body cool and black : As he broods on her, he pales With his ecstasy, and fails To distribute his joy, or hold it back I 31 32 PAYMENT " Ah ! our bed a garden is, Clean and radiant with lilies Do not linger any longer* sweetheart mine ; I am weary for your charms, For the warm stealth of your arms . . . See ! The Darkness is too short for what I pine I She has come. . * . The moments fleet Move beneath their eager feet They are hurled toward the Glory of the Skies ; Every fibre seems to know What the senses seek to show, That the sun must interdict when darkness dies ! PAYMENT ROM Helicon's Stream a Draught would once inspire The Bard to sing in sweet, ecstatic Flight ; But Poets of this Sordid Age require A Draft on Parr's made " payable at sight." CRIMSON LEAVES /^*RIMSON leaves on the mango-tree: ^^ Alas and alack ! for the twelve-hour day Never a shadow for you and for me ? Heigho ! for the time that used to be, Heigho I for the old familiar way : Crimson leaves on the mangO'tree* A cuckoo is pleading seductively : Alack ! for the dues that Youth must pay Shadow and sunshine for you and for me ! Is there a brighter shore to see Beyond the rim of this River gray ? (Crimson leaves on the mangO'tree*) The Rains are over, and Summer is free, Free to bare all her greenery : Never a shadow for you or for me ? Wandering, wandering, o'er land and o'er sea Shall I find rest, pleading cuckoo ? O say I (Crimson leaves on the mangO'tree) Shadow, all shadow, for you and for me ! 33 AT SUNRISE CIPPING Love's Nectar through the honeyed hours ^ I linger in the Garden of Old Days ; And* like a vagrant bee, from many flowers Learn secrets of their worship and their ways. But whether I love them, who will dream ? Whether I float on an urgent stream On the fretful River of Chance and Fate, With Lust for my Haven ? Or Life's Locked Gate Will stay my passage, making you Soul's Mate Who will dream ? Heard in the heart (from the tendons wrung) Are yearnings with neither name nor tongue ! For Darling, my Darling, albeit, albeit, I wander o'er pastures of pride and of passion, I cannot forget you. In my own wayward fashion When all fancies are followed, and when sane eyes may see it, I shall come back, I shall come back to you ! Ruby lips have spoken of vivid life, Of dangers most dire and of ravage rife Talked of fetid pools and of rotten roots, Of abnormal flowers and of poisoned fruits They have murmured of calms 'neath a gloating moon, Where fondness is soothed to a grateful croon I 34 AT SUNRISE 35 And of men, have they spoken, damply red with blood* Where maidens have danced while the children stood All'lazily watching the crimson flood ; And I, who listened, have lain in a swoon Of ecstasy, Motionless ; Powerless ; Licentiously ; Then (swift as a skylark speeding toward the blue) I have come back, I have come back to you ! In alien eyes* amber or blue ; green or gray or brown, I have let my intimate soul and my senses drown. eyes of varied hue and insidious skill, The madness of your witchery haunts me still 1 Yet (though golden eyes have bade me doubt you) 1 knew, alway, I could not live without you : I knew* sweet one, I knew, I knew I should come back to you ! God keep us safe through the Ache of Learning Through all the wrongs, The impetuous songs, The clamorous tongues, And inevitable thongs That Time will be giving For the Lust of Living : Debt for what my harsh nature can be and do I For, at the last, in free and fragrant yearning, Dear one, Through the Burden of Sin and the Ache of Learning, 36 GOOD-NIGHT In reverence, and with peaceful passion, After my own dominant fashion, I shall come back, I shall come back, Darling, to you ! GOOD-NIGHT IH\ ARK eyes, good-night, good-night *-^ The morning's golden light Shall gleam : But now I give In this warm kiss The joy and bliss ("While we shall live) Of a golden dream* YOUTH'S PENALTY T\7T Y friends show wonder in their looks 1 VJ. \7h en I m y a g e disclose ; They think the worshipping of books Should leave me like a rose As fresh, as sweet, as beautiful As rarest flower that blows ! Ah me ! these strenuous years leave marks That cannot be erased ; I sing my blithest, care that carks Has all my senses dazed : But this is tribute that I pay* For having Hell ward gazed ! Thank God, though, heart o* mine, that thou Art young enough to sing In raptured strains beneath the bough, Of love throughout the Spring ; My brain and soul are young enow For wonder on the wing : Though old of face I can enjoy Lif e's zest, at heart I am a boy ! 37 ALONE TOOTHING matters to me, * ^ Nor moon, nor earth, nor sea, Now we are parted : Our passion seems but the ember Of a fitful fire in December Ah ! what is the world to me, And what can my future be, Half broken'hearted, Now we are parted ? Wert thou alone in the sea, On an island uncharted, (Girdled in mystery) Fain would my spirit flee To thee, to thee ! Far from thee, oh, far from thee, Over field and foam, Would my sad heart roam I You say (though your voice be tender) That your nature will never surrender- You call my wish for a mental As well as a bodily fusion, 38 ALONE 39 Impatient and cruel and fretful An empty and futile delusion : If you only knew, If you only knew I The blackbird haunts the dawn, Singing the world to light J And the nightjar's carillon Lulls the fair body of night. Ah ! Loved One, recall, At the year's sad fall, How my spirit must ever roam (While;nothing matters to me !) Far from thee, oh, far from thee Over field and foam, Alone, Without a home ! THE LOVER WHO RODE AWAY 'T'HE White Youth from the Teeming North * Meets the Dusky Maid a'dreaming ; And his Conquering Glance brings instant forth The Love in her mild gaze beaming ! His look seems true as his eyes are blue Each speak of Strength and Action : Her eyes are brown, and she glances down In demurest satisfaction. He meets her twice, he meets her thrice, All in the rose-lit Dawning ; And he brings her Love with his Gifts of Price- Caresses at Break of Morning ! So North and South are gaily blent In Time for a Moment's Pleasure : And Nature's Law her Smile has bent On the joy of the After Leisure! But his love is that of an Idle Day : It has charmed a fleet hour's Sorrow So with never a sigh he rides away, His mind on the Sunlit Morrow. She sees him go with impassive face, Though her timid eyes be glistening ; And for many an hour in the Lonely^Place, Her every nerve is listening ! 40 SONG OF SORROW 41 He cat- r ies her Soul as he goes his way 'Twas his for the simple Taking : And before him lies the Old Easy Way, "While she knows her Heart is Breaking. SONG OF SORROW T OVE wove a Song a Song of Bitter Weeping, ^ To cadences of cries ; I listened to the syllables, half 'sleeping : Her mournful melodies ! '* She was my All in All ; and I did once adore her ; There, at her shrine, my dearest thoughts were laid. I burned sweet Frankincense and Myrrh, rare Oils before het I kissed her feet, my only Pearl' White Maid ! " Love wove a Song a Song of Studied Sorrow : A little Lust and Life : Work, Play, Joy, Sorrow, Evening and To-morrow, Hope, Chagrin, Pleasure, Strife! " Ah ! We were made as One : her gracious condescension Gave me my Wish, the Beauty that I yearned : We were no longer Two we had in fibrous tension A Joy that Gods themselves have never spurned ! " Love wove a Song a Song of Wistful Sorrow, And sang me fast asleep : Life might be fair, if it would only borrow The Bliss alone 1 keep ! VADE MECUM I TVTILL you tell me, Little Lady, where your small feet are " a-going, All alone and unattended where the evening sun is glowing ? 'Tis the fairest of all seasons, and the weather is delicious : Perilous may be your passage, should the skies prove in' auspicious ! Surely Home is warm and cosy, and protected from the breezes ; What if some stray wind deflower you where the sleepy Silence pleases ? Heigh ho ! heigh ho ! I am one of those who are bound to roam, Though fire gleam bright on the Hearth of Home I O ! Beware, my Little Lady or right soon you will be sighing : See the clouds have lowered yonder, and an errant breeze is flying ; Sudden arrows of the darkness slay the beauty of Day's Roses, And there's shivering in the silence of Earth's desecrated Closes! Though night stain or though it blemish though sky thunder or it lighten Though wind sob throughout the wood, I am not easy prey to frighten / Heigh ho ! heigh ho ! You are one of those who were born to roam, So behold my threshold ; I bid you " Come I " 42 VADE MECUM 43 II Little Lady smiled upon me* and I found her with me staying ; Taught her tiny hands to slumber, and her feet to cease from straying ; And she cried ; My Forest Lover, would that I had sooner known you : Many secrets of the hillside and the valley I had shown you; Now that night is looming o'er us and the morn is far from breaking, I will stay, dear heart, beside you till the flowers and birds are waking / Heigh ho I heigh ho ! You remain of those who were bound to roam, Though fire gleam bright on the Hearth of Home ! FAREWELL, WHITE GIRL AND ENGLAND "C*AREWELL,ye cliffs of Anglesea above me; * Farewell, ye light of stars in skies divine ; Farewell, ye scents and sounds that always move me ; Hail and Farewell, all ye that once were mine ! A long Farewell to flowers in April springing Good'bye, ye dales and uplands wet with rain ; Farewell, O throstle jubilantly singing; Farewell, ye murmurs of my Youth's Refrain ! Farewell, White Girl, it is not mine to hold you Within my arms throughout the coming years ; You have your Pride, and I may not enfold you* Because of shifting shame and crouching fears ! Farewell, ye winds in minor cadence playing, Like spirit'bands, on golden harps unseen ; Farewell, ye lilies reverently praying In verdant valleys where the lark has been I Yet . . English Maiden, I can ne'er forget you : The solace through my exile shall be this 'Mid English Meadows I have often met you, And had the ripeness of your mouth to kiss ! One blissful eve holds every nerve pulsating ; Distilled within my heart is joy and pain E'en tropic raptures cannot match that mating* Ah ! Shall it ne'er be ours to feel again ? 44 FAREWELL, WHITE GIRL AND ENGLAND 45 The shadows drifted high above the mountain ; The stinging mists blew inward from the sea ; Anear us was the tinkling of a fountain And I was you j and you were part of me ! Yea, I am now what Love and You have made me Unto the Earth in ecstasy I cleave : Friends lure me not Travel alone can aid me, Or Sin and Rage which mortal sense bereave 1 I marvel now how I could meet the morning. With blushless cheek, after the glow and thrill Ah ! How I railed against the day for dawning, And cursed Remorse for gnawing 'gainst our will I Alas : farewell ! Though we have sinned unknowing, Our roses have been oftenest twined with rue ; We reap at last the Harvest of our Sowing, And stain our souls with Sin the Senses knew ! White Girl, White Girl : I am debased before you Less than the dust that stirs beneath your tread : But I shall not forget how I adore you : Even in exile for our daily bread ! Farewell, White Girl ! Farewell, dear Homeland I Steaming Toward the Channel, and where Afric gleams Though all be lost and dead I still am dreaming Alone my unimaginable dreams ! IMPRESSION (Amy of Boldon Days] T HE glow of the flickering log, The gleam of her cat'like eyes, The flash of her milk-white teeth The throb of my heart agog, The run of her low replies, The glint of her feet beneath The wash of the solemn rain, Then sudden a sobbing pain My hands in the firelight ta'en. 46 MY LADY II 7!" Y Lady's hair *** Is braided down in tresses, golden-pale, That glimmer softly through a misty veil, Like yellow primroses o'er Winter's lair My Lady's hair ! My Lady's eyes Are like the blue of speedwell, touched at dawn By sapphire radiance of an infant morn. Within their deeps a brooding fancy lies My Lady's eyes ! My Lady's face Is like a lilypetal, soft and white, A pale pure thing that gladdens aching sight : Veriest harbour from life's fretful pace My Lady's face ! My Lady's heart, (Her full round smiling lips may softly tell What her low glance has oft declared so well,) Is mine. Ah ! Resting-place from sorrows' smart- My Lady's heart ! 47 AUNTY NAN (Written in Liberia) HRIST, dey tell me Yo* are Sabiour, Yo* alone can bless ma soul, An* dey promise me a mansion While de ages onward roll ; Den dey speak ob angels wa*blin*, Sweeter dan de la'ks in Spring, Talk ob lutes an* harps all golden In de presence ob de King. But my tears dey are a-drappin* As de brink ob death I greet ; Tremblin* sinnah, I am wonderin* Why for me a golden street ? I hab nevah l*arned de music Ob an eddicated band, An* ma kitchen-fire is dearer Dan de pearls ob any land. Give me, God, my dear ol* sa*s-pan ; Dis cracked plate an* wooden spoon ; Dis armchair dat was ma mudder*s, An* has sheltered many a coon ; In de morn, when birds am callin* From de valley to de hill, I sho*d like dis broken windah, Wid de sun upon de sill. 48 AUNTY NAN 49 An* I wan* ma Towser near me, Wid his ol* familiah growl : An* dis broom, worn all onesided By de bricks where pickins rowl ; Ah ! dear Sabiour, I can*t leave dem Tho* de angels may be near, I sho'd always wan* ma kitchen An* de f ireside*s homely cheer ! Hush ! I hear de blackbird whistle, Makin* his ol* song resound. See ! De flowers am softly pushin* Froo de patient'waitin* groun*. Oh ! Christ' Jesus, give me Heaven Only sweet as dis ere spell, An* 1*11 sing froo all de ages Not in tune, but moughty well ! CASUAL PLEASURE f* HE moon has bared her ghostly face ; " The brazen sun has set ; Come, love, to me, at leisured pace, With hair and eyes of jet! Within the Bush the leopard calls ; And on the cheerless lake A shadowed field of foliage falls, Where idle ripples shake. I am alone but, if you lend The warmth of your young arms, The Darkness shall be counted Friend, My erewhile terrors, Charms ! No gifts are mine of precious stones ; No bed is here of down ; But you shall feed on honey'd tones, And with heart'wealth be crowned I For every fibre thrills again To urge an ardent night Come, love, to me, with fleeting pain ; Star'decked, serene and white. My tongue is alien to your ears ; Your words I may not know ; But we will tell our hopes and fears In kiss, and passion's glow ! 50 WHITE OF DAWN 5 Come, love, to me, and read my eyes Their message comprehend : I yearn to share your Paradise, And own you Bosom Friend ! WHITE OF DAWN "W"OUR head is on my arm, * Your breath is in my ear, "When I awake ; There is no sound of feet, No turmoil in the street For Nature fresh and calm Has stilled all fret and fear White dawn's at break. The air so sweet and cool Is wholly beautiful I welcome it ! And yet, I should not breathe Too loud my joy, nor wreathe Love's benefit : For well I know that some Must fear the dawn to come Not glad as I ... They 'counter Life's cold stare, And eyes in anguish bare Must wake to cry ! SONG OF AFRICA * I r HE Niger ripples in languid rest ^ Toward the vagrant and ardent sea ; It takes my heart to its dusky breast, And bears it along all stealthily. For here is a land of Fruit and Flower, A Home for each violent known Delight I And to subtle men her docile dower Has ever been that of Love at Sight ! My heart on the Niger's dusky breast Is carried away to the vagrant sea ! Before I saw her with mortal eyes, In swooned embrace by the azure wave, I knew her laughter, her piercing cries I guessed the rapture her lithe limbs save. Her loitering lips and her tresses wild Enslave to-day ! (How the tear-drops start !) And even as a stammering child In wanton dreams I had heard her heart I For a longing reverence flutters high "Within my breast like a prisoned bird Land of the Palm and the Opal Sky, Have you not heard it, have you not heard ? 52 REJUVENATION 53 The Niger ripples in languid rest Toward the vagrant and ardent sea ; It takes my heart to its dusky breast* And bears it along all stealthily Carries it* glowing and love-possessed, To the restless, the vagrant, the eager Sea ! REJUVENATION TV7ITHIN the Bosom of the Poet prest, " Dry, scentless leaves find Shelter and a Rest ; But as the warm Blood through his sad Heart flows, They rise and blossom in a new'born Rose. THE SPINNER F TURN my wheel, my whirring wheel, ^ ** Hush, hush, my heart, 'tis the wind from the sea !"- I broider my moods ; and I must not feel The pain of the sorrows that drift to me ! My room is lonely, a flickering flame ** Did you whisper a name as I turn'd the thread ? M Is thrown by the fire on my fancyframe, And the latch lifts up, and the dead are dead ! Screech and scream ! How man's blood is shed, While the waves are strawing the shore with wrack ; " But I sit and broider my dreams instead, And listen in quiet to the howl and crack ! " Shifting pattern, like the world's mad dream I " Oh, my weaving and dreaming is happiness I " For tangible things are things that seem, And no soul may know, only dimly guess ! The vast night broods, alive with stars, Below is the seething world's unrest ; And I may not pass from my prison bars, Where I wind and weave with a soul repress'd I 54 MAINLY LOCAL AND TOPICAL TO FREDDY NELSON "ONE OF THE BEST" (For two years' companionship) MEN OF THE NIGER CING we a Song of the Men on the Banks of the Niger *"^ River, Men at the Outposts of Empire, who sit at the Board with Death: Men who discover a spleen or contract an erratic liver On behalf of mother or wife labouring in all good faith. Servants of Crown or of Commerce, Dealers in Finance or Fancy : Administering Wisdom in Doses, minute and easy to take, Bearing the Burden of Britain, and faithful to Nell or to Nancy : Praying and cursing and loving and hating for her dear sake ! Some shew but little of Pride in their work on the Niger River, But its merit remains undisputed, wide to the gaze of the world ; Flung by the long arm of Chance where they alternately sweat- through and shiver, During terms of two or three years, the wings of Ambition all furled! The whistle of shrapnel and ball on the Banks of the Niger River Has preceded the hushing of orders, the sound of an officer's fall Our blood has been shed in the Conflict, while Hausas have not shown a quiver, For sergeants have taught them Obedience is safest and easiest of all I 57 58 MEN OF THE NIGER So give them the meed of their Labour, these Men of the Niger River They look to a golden To-morrow, and toil through the tedious To-day; Their love has the Breadth and the Depth, for they gaze in the Eyes of the Giver, And know that the Hour must arrive when He will hand over their Pay! From Forcados, continued to Kanoj through Lokoja and new- fangled Baro ; Far and firm do they labour, these Traders, Officials and Fools; Eton and Sandhurst and Dublin, Oxford and Cambridge and Harrow- Each College has served as a File for the Teeth of Old Britain's Tools. Mayhap a few will be famous, who swatted away on the River Prosing in Office or Mart, and beating their Brothers with Rods: Patiently teaching them Sense, and the knowledge of Given and Giver, For the Scorn that the Empire bears toward Meaner and Alien Gods! HABEAS CORPUS (Impromptu) TF I should happen to die on the Coast, ^ Earnestly let me ask you to drop me Down to the sea, which has been my boast, Or into the Niger, where saurians may chop me. I could not endure the touch of the soil, "When wet worms would wriggle about my breast : No peace would be mine, but an endless toil, A fierce disquiet, and a broken rest. So send me " by hand/* when the end shall come, To the nearest stream or the open sea ; And there I shall sleep till the hour for Home, And the Maker of All may have need of me I OUR NURSES TVTHILE B. is ruddyhaired and dark of face, *^ And tends her patient, hour by weary hour, In force of will a score if one in power, Crowning her labour at a rapid pace : The tortured fever-room, where terrors trace A devastating course* as her strong tower j Miss C. is blue-eyed, fair, and has the dower Of soothing calm and cheer that clears the place^. One works with tongue, the other with cool hand ; Each toiling well, and knowing that the jest Of tropic life is hazardous, possessed By zeal of strong desire to understand The victim's symptoms, and to gain the strand Of convalescence and requiting rest. 59 UNDER CITY WALLS W HEN I'm weary of the nakedness and squalor of the Street, Waft me to the Niger River, Where poor mortals need not shiver, And the Fashions do not worry j Where the weather does not cheat, And there's little cause for hurry On Life's Beat. There in normal state of nature : counted not Machine but Man, I may help my dusky " brother/' And no primal instinct smother, In pursuit of Love and Duty Doing what I must and can : Finding unsuspected Beauty In God's Plan* There's the fragrant, far'flung Forest, and the Mountain's august Peak; And a Man learns more of Heaven, Hell and Earth and Virtues Seven, When he touches lips with Mystery, And has played at ** Hide and Seek " With the Bush (creating History) For a week. There's the men who understand me : for an open hand is thrown To each persevering Worker, (Stayed and helped, but not a Shirker) And the Well of Life's not frozen By Convention. I disown Snow and Fog, have Afric chosen For my own ! 60 THE MOSQUITO TVTHENCE comes he with his irritating buzz-z, Carrying new terror on the damp and debilitated air ? He lurks among the marshy banks* and we have known him there Long since the stagnant waters menaced us* Most hideously suggestive is the thrall He leaves for token to be ours an hour, perchance a day : The gauzy wings are scarcely seen ere he is far away* And we are left our remedies to call. Baffled in search of sleep we hear his whine, And wildly beat the curtain in the search for ease and rest ; But he has probed the inner warmth of our tormented breast* And sips our blood for won and welcome wine. How comes it that he can (and does) elude The wiliest traps we lay for him : ignores the subtlest snare ? He seems to make discrimination with the nicest care, And only what is dangerous is eschewed. Vain task to thwart his insults* fence his fun : Vain questions Why and Wherefore he was placed upon our earth ; These things are mysteries lost of Old, and Man was made for Mirth j We must pay the Tropics* Toll for Sky and Sun I 61 MY MARMOSET la Memoriam "Pickln." Died Sunday, 18th October, 1908, aged 6 months ID RIGHT Little Brother, oh Bright Little Brother, ^"^ Do you forget me down there ? I was your father, and I was your mother, A precarious Childhood to share ! Come then, my Little One, jump upon my knee, We two will feast together in the store ; Look ! Here are biscuits, marmalade and tea, While kitchen'shelf comprises plenty more I So clasp your tiny hand in mine 4 . Ah ! nay, No single hair of your small head shall harm I Let then the warmth of soft coat, brown and gray Nestle toward me in confiding calm* Now then : your manners ! Many a time and oft Have you been told that ** prigging " doesn't do ; Here's a nice tit'bit, milky, sweet and soft, And you shall have a second morsel, too ! Restless wee Beastie I You have leaped away, And round the counter you are playing tricks As wanton as Elf Puck's. Nor night nor day You seem to rest, or one intention fix ! 62 MY MARMOSET 63 Play then ; while I to mundane matters turn Converting Kernels into Cash, or Cloth into Palm Oil ; But teach me by your presence how to burn More brightly in my zeal for those who pay me here to toil ! Train me a happier, more contented Lot to bear, For you have found the Keynote of Delight Bid me, like you, hold fast to Love, and banish Care : Strengthened by errors, and by faults lent Might ! Look ! Here comes "Jack *' upon his back you spring, And watchers hail the feat with shouts of laughter : Away he scampers, while your short arms cling Around his neck, and " Greally " follows after. They count it strange these " niggers " that a dog Should " cotton on " to one of your upbringing But "Jack " and you are chums, and nought can clog Your comradeship, or start rough discords ringing. How ? Back again ? The day will soon be done, And we will close the shop, to smoke and muse (F. N.* and I) before the setting sun, While you a cool spot on the sand will choose. The morn you went, dear one, I never thought That you could pass so easily to Death ! I was the sinner who the anguish brought : And I the mortal robbed you of your breath I * Fred Nelson ** Freddy " of popular renown. 64 MY MARMOSET Your Sunday bath, with soap and luke-warm water taken, I placed you in the fervid sun to dry But we had racing been, and febrile pulse was shaken, So at the last you crept inside * . . to die ! You came to me where I was lonely reading* Your trembling arms were outstretched far apart ; And on my breast your convulsed mouth was bleeding, Where I embraced you closer to my heart ! My poor dead " Pickin " may your Rest be quiet You teach me that I still am far from Home : But that beyond Earth's Discord, Din and Riot A Father's open Bosom bids me " Come ! " Bright little Brother, oh Bright little Brother, Do you forget me down there ? I was your father, and I was your mother, And without you Life's Chamber is bare ! PROH PUDOR! OTHE Girls of Afric Sunny, They are black as * Steven's Best"; And their kinky curls are funny, While they're always sparsely dressed ; But their Eyes are Wells of Pleasure, Where Familiar Fancies peep ; And their Breasts are Fields of Leisure On which Eros lies asleep ! O the Girls of Afric Sunny, They have velvet skins and warm : Just as sweet as new-made honey, Perfect too in mould and form ; And the White Men who resist them By their fellows are despised Only when the lips have kissed them Is the Magic realised ! O the Girls of Afric Sunny, They have Secret Rites of Love, Which they will not sell for money, But for Gifts set high above ! And they hold Man by their Knowledge, Dating back to Eve's own Day, So that Love becomes a College With the Advent of their Way I 65 66 HIS REVERIE O the Girls of Afric Sunny, They are sweet as Mother's Milk, And their "taste" is quaintly funny Coral, amber, jet and silk; But no White Man dare resist them, If he would not be despised Only when the mouth has kissed them Is Life's Magic realised ! HIS REVERIE (A Fragment) a languid August afternoon, When all the slopes were sunny. Vandenby listening to the tune Of bees in search of honey, Spoke in my ear of all his loves Of pleasure promptly sated : ** There have been many. ... It behoves A man to be oft mated* " White Youth is Heart's Amusing Time, When Life has golden reasons For thrill and glow and inward rhyme, Rich glamour of the seasons, The first a widow was, and she . . ." (The poet throws aside his manuscript in disgust. One thing only is more tedious than listening to another man's version of his conquests that of, in cold blood, recounting them.) AN OUTSIDER This song is just a string of lies But still it brought some fierce replies ! Josephus Taedium Vitae is a perfect Blatherskite : For he is dowered with side enough to sink a ship at sight ; His views on Life in general are primitive and plain *' I am ; I was ; I shall be ; and I am simply sane ! " He plays his vast Employers (as he has done for years) To leave him unmolested amid our covert sneers ; His methods are monotonous ; yet every man of heart Must feel his muscles twitching to make the bounder smart. He takes his District leisurely when he is forced to go And dawdles round the River* while the errant breezes blow ; But eight days out of every seven, no better task to thank Has he than gloating o'er the girls who bathe on Niger's bank. " Look* Joe* at that one ! Ain't she plump ? Pass me the 'scope * one'time ' j Methinks I'll interview her while she is at her prime ! ** "Withal he has a wife at home : three black ones also here* While two have earned him " black'and'tans*" and a " fourth " may soon appear ! He is rather fond of Tennis ; and to keep our System square We tolerate such guttersnipes* though we wish them Other' where ; And some there are ko w- tow to him, for they are false as he. ... Well, well* we all have not yet learned Life's test* Sincerity. 67 68 AN OUTSIDER This month he goes to England, for the year is at the Spring ; And every black boy on the beach will jubilantly sing ; There will be fewer fines henceforth (nice how the system works ?) His pay as District Agent was augmented by these perqs. Next Autumn we shall meet again. (Though nobody regrets That he has left us desolate.) *Tis on the cards he gets Another District given him : but he will lounge all day, While ** Sa* L 'one Gem'men " do his work, in the old familiar way. A few there are draw " cruel cheques/' with idle hours thrown in ; But if they act like Englishmen, we do not care a pin : 'Tis when we meet our Vitaes, we tell them plain and square, That they may find a place in Heaven, or even Otherwhere ! This ditty contains not a word of truth, So no one can guess half its merits forsooth / UZO'S TARRYING /^\NITSHA town lies swooned in sleep ; ^^ (One, two palms, a rock and a star.) Far out on the river the moon'rays creep, Toward Aboutchi, rugged and steep ; And the maiden waits while the blue-jays cheep. (Three, four palms, a rock and a moon.) From the distance comes the throb of an oar ; (A sigh and a breath, and the stab of a heart.) The Niger quivers from shore to shore ; Her loneliness seems to be lonely no more, And she wears the seductiveness known of yore. (Five, six palms, and a sighing breath.) Comes Uzo with skin of a sable hue. (Two, three stars, a moon and a rock.) Each fibre consumes his strong body through ; Every cell of his brain is a furnace too, While restrained desire burns his eyes anew. (A moon, seven palms, a rock and the stars.) The oar has ceased, and his arms ope wide. (Four, five stars, a rock and a moon.) She is here she is here I No caress is denied ; His hand is placed on her pulsing side, And no king could equal his heart for pride ! (A moon, all the stars, and long rest on the rock.) 69 A TRIFLING EPISODE A NADIDI-ODIABO was Everyone's Delight: ^ Her smile was warm as noonglow ; her eyes were dark as night ; Beside her satin features, flower' petals were not fair; And the mystery of the starshine lay in her raven hair. So fresh she was and slender, so full of girlish glow : Her voice was like the morn'breeze, pulsating, sweet and low : Rich silks she wore for girdle j and on her neck was set A band of crimson coral, with amber beads and jet. The Niger's bank had known her these fourteen fleeting years And where the palm-trees quiver she breathed her hopes and fears : Our white men loved to linger long moments at her side, That they might share her pleasure in the hurry of the tide. At last came one who sought her, and bought her for his own, And many things he taught her in secret honey M tone: Of fervid Love and Passion, of Joy and reckless Pain, Of Youth and luring Beauty, which do not long remain. She listened in a rapture, throughout the summer days ; And the wonder of her nature dissolved before her gaze : The light was full of license, and when the daylight died Her soft arms drew the Lover more closely to her side. 70 A TRIFLING EPISODE 71 Sweet hours of love and laughter, of jocund ease and mirth, When Eros followed after, and garlanded the earth Hours when the soft cool curtain no ecstasy confined, Nights when in meditation the gods seemed over'kind ! Twelve months he loved in earnest; and when the babe ap* peared There was no man so boastful, no mother so endeared : Her passion faltered never, for " White " was king of men, And he embraced his purchase, nor asked the Why or When ! Another summer followed, then Love's own greater God Turned on these mimic sweethearts and scourged them with His rod: The man went back to England, and the promise of his mouth But wounded her the deeper, because of present drouth ! She knew not where he wandered, nor whether he would come Back to the West Coast's glamour when he should tire of "Home": She bore her pain in silence, till ten long months had passed, Then she laid her down in slumber beneath the waving grass. Her child had died before her ; and all her fervid youth Had turned to rust and tarnish, to anguish and to ruth ; Onitsha's palms sing o'er her such love could not abide. . . We hear that "White" has married, and "settled down" at Ryde! COLLOQUIAL T OOK y'here, P. B. M., *"^ Just cease rhapsodisin* ; I know she's a gem Past all human prizing And quite "one of them. " She may be despisin* Us all, an* devisin' Your amours to stem ! Still you know, P. B. M., I*m in no'wise complainin* And here is a mem. " Though the clouds may be rainin' The sun is a-gainin* More warmth in its beam ! Love-affairs are Man's trainin' And it's futile explainin' So flimsy a theme ! " Ah I we learn, P. B. M., When we wake up on Monday And think on the dream That shone over Sunday, How dear Mrs. Grundy In England would scream : For we certainly seem To kiss all and sundry (From Sat'day to Monday) At token "Full Steam 1" By Niger's warm stream, 72 INSPIRATION 73 So be sure, P. B. M., Life is chock'full of pleasure ; No one girl's a treasure Where lovely maids teem, And ugly none seem. Take Joy at its leisure, And quaff without measure While we can. For I deem That such is Love's Dream ! INSPIRATION TV7HEN Winter's gloom had darkened all the earth " Methought I heard thee sing : The birds were silent, waiting for the birth Of dewy, odorous Spring ; But now the fields are flecked with limpid light. And throats are warbling free, 'Tis my sad lot to sit in silent night Beneath a leafless tree. PRAYER TO INNOCENCE A LL day the market-place has teemed with riot, '* The sordid Grind of Commerce, Barter, Trade ; Now at the fall of night comes peace and quiet, The Consummation that Man's Toil has made. Ah ! I am weak, unsatisfied and weary : Come* Little One, and leave awhile your play ; Though years be long your smile is ever cheery, For naught can mar the Beauty of Youth's Day. You are too young to guess at Pain or Passion, So nestle by my side, and muse with me ! I want to think with you in simple fashion Of Past and Future Fate and Destiny ! Sometimes we Grown-Ups weary so of Living, The Restless Search for Gold or Quest of Shame ; I sometimes think that God was wrong in Giving, And we in Taking, such a Tarnished Name I Your tiny World is full of Peace and Playing A Paradise of Toys and Gifts that Shine : Hence is it that my Griefs oft find in Praying Beside you thus their surest Anodyne ! To one who Lives right fully in the Open This world seems Red with Blood, and Blind with Tears : For Slaughter is its Keynote and its Token, While every living thing infirm appears. 74 PRAYER TO INNOCENCE 75 Your little brain is active with bright Dreaming : Sweet Fancies that from fervent Foresight spring But mine is old and worn, all scarred with scheming On alien subjects that no profit bring! You dance through Life unconscious of its Sorrow, Seeing alone the Sunlight on your Path : Meeting with Honest Eyes each fair To'morrow, Shaming with Innocence Love's Aftermath ! Heaven only knows what Fate holds in the Reaping For this frail form, o'er which I fondly yearn But I may pray your soul stay in His keeping, That years may teach you Sin and Shame to spurn ! I love to hold you thus, my Consolation ; May our Love's Stream run ever undefiled, That I may claim amid Life's Desolation The trusting Credence of a Little Child I THE GREAT JUJU OF IBO OOK upon this loathsome Thing, *-** Hideous in its Grovelling I Wholly devilish, no'wise good, Man's gross appetite for food Linking Humankind with Beast ; Withal (to the Eye at least) Giving impulses to pray : See the Dawn of Devil's Day* (Look upon the loathsome Thing /) Obscene hand of Witchman traced it, And the ignorant natives taste it ; Ravage follows where it stands : Blood is on its paw-like hands, While a crimson flood is shed Below and round its ghastly head. Seen within this forest's gloom Haunting terrors peer and loom* (Famished natives, come and taste it /) What is White Christ to its Joy- Rigorous Madness to Destroy ? Ah ! The gold heart of the Lily Cannot match on marshes stilly The poisoned Heart of Orchid Bloom Emblem of decay and doom ! Minds from North may never guess Half the Black Man's Bitterness ! ( What is White Christ to such Joy?} 76 COCKTAIL HOUR 77 Unknown Carver, here's a Clue To the Inner Soul of you Shameful lips alone could say Things that White Men hide away ! You disclose without restraint, And Adorers find the taint : We entreat that you may be From Sin's Fetters soon set free ! (Lustful Man, release to you /) COCKTAIL HOUR f "D UT see ! The moon is at the full : -^ All purple grows the sky Before the dinner hour is here, Let each man say Good-bye! Away to chop ! One * tot * of gin And this last toast we'll quaff * Health to the man who smiles at Life, And the girl who makes Life laugh ! * " THE TOLL OF THE BUSH (la Memoriam S : Obiit 20 : VIII : 1908; &t. 28) TT killed a man at Agbor, It killed him on the sly, And Onitsha's young and Onitsha's old Declared him a fool to die : Onitsha*s black and Onitsha's white Believe 'twas the coward's part To funk the Bush and to court the Blues, Till ice'Cold was a human heart ! It killed a man at Agbor, (It has killed a thousand or more) But he didn't wait for old King Death To open " Blackwater's " * door ; It worried him when he'd got no chance, Alone on a timber quest : When whiskey and gin galore lay near, And a dull want ached in his breast* It killed a man at Agbor ; If he'd died in a lusty fight We shouldn't have cared who knew him well. For out here the victor is Might ; * African Haemoglobinuric Fever. 78 THE TOLL OF THE BUSH 79 'Twas his finger that pulled the trigger back, 'Twas his hand that made life start : Yet he was a man with an open face, And a sound and cheerful heart ! It killed a man at Agbor ; He lived through the scorching day, While the natives carried him bed and all To Asaba, dread miles away. In great red gouts the blood ran down, As he moaned out his panting breath ; Dear Christ ! No man can have wooed before So reluctant a bride as Death ! It killed a man at Agbor, We saw him brought over here A dank foul thing in a winding-sheet That filled each soul with fear ; When the D. C.* asked us later on Whether such life was vain, We could not speak, for our hearts were dead, And our nerves were a'throb with pain. A Trader was foreman of the five Each man wore a haggard look, And of all the tasks that I ever shared This makes the poorest book. We swore 'twas financial straits at home, Or news of a dear one's rack But we knew, all five, 'twas the fierce D.T.'s And the silence of Out'AwayBack ! * District Commissioner. 8o THE RAINY SEASON The Bush is a place of alarm and shock, Torn nerves and of broken health For here was a man with a scattered brain, Who had paid its Toll by stealth ; We know that the God of us all is just We ** guess that he likes Man some " ; So "The Toll of the Bush** will be named by Him, And poor S will pass right Home ! THE RAINY SEASON (An Impression} "DLEAK winds against a sodden sky, ^^ The drip of a tedious rain ; Heart-gnawing dreams of days gone by, And lonely nights again ! THE WHITE AND THE BLACK I TN a Land of Sand and Glowing Sun, * Beside a languorous azure Sea, Frank Talson, exiled England's son, Spends his long days contentedly. Upon the Skyline's fitful blue, He sometimes sees a gleaming sail ; And when a steamer sinks from view He cares not that it brought no Mail* For whether Skies be glad or gray ; Or whether Seas be harsh or kind, Beside him rests both day and night, Fair M'waterlo, his earliest " Find." Intense she is in every limb, With passionate, shining, eager eyes ; And she has vouchsafed unto him, A radiant Earthly Paradise. II News reached him from the Distant Sea, Of White Man's War and Strife and Pain: " And in that Cold Land waits for me A careless wife and waits in vain ! " 81 82 THE WHITE AND THE BLACK They had been mated (as men are) Without a thought of After Tears ; And she had yearned for Reachless Star, While he had sorrowed through the Years. Another Lover soon she found, Her Husband being engrossed in work j And, when with Proof her Fault was crowned, She fled his roof, the Shame to shirk. Ill As M'waterlo upon him leant, One day beside the restless sea, A letter reached, with this intent : " Come home, my husband home to me ! " For I am weary of my Lot, All glutted with the Round of Play : My sinful life would be forgot, If you were at my side to-day. " Life, like a brightlycoloured Stream, Flows with me, laughing and elate But I am Bondslave of a Dream : So come you back or come too late ! " For one has promised me a home With wealth, in Eastern City dim : And I am fain to follow. Come ! Or leave me free to follow him ! " THE WHITE AND THE BLACK 83 IV So while the sultry hours crept on, And left the world to peace and calm, Talson recalled what she had done. And laid his head across his arm. " Comfort me, M'waterlo," he said, " Man's Life is full of pride and pain ! " And she caressed his stricken head, Saying : " Love is not all in vain ! "For since you brought me to the Beach, That golden day in Sultry June, We have been faithful each to each, And prayed that we might see It soon I ** Now It has come wide open thrown Is Life's fair Portal, and next year We shall proclaim It for our own: This Little Soul we hold so dear ! " V As through the peaceful Afric night, They lay together, breast to breast, The White Man smiled in sheer delight j The Black Maid's eyes were closed in rest. VI Hence is it that the sonorous Strand Sees Talson's figure nevermore: He hears, in that untroubled land Life's music at the Heart's Deep Core. A LETTER HOME (To T. O. T.) A CROSS the leagues of land and ocean *^ I hear the murmur of your voice, Like angel'message, whose emotion Bids exiled manhood to rejoice. I hear the skylark's blithe oration In this far place, where song is loud ; I hear the parrot's ostentation, And then the cuckoo's challenge proud. I hear the tide's low croon at even, Or crested surf in sonorous beat ; I hear the seagull's answers seven But wait the cadence of your feet I I sense the fields of distant Boldon, Asleep beneath the wind's caress ; I watch across the meadows golden The moon put on her filmy dress. I hear my homeland calling, calling, Like angel'message : " Rise ! Rejoice ! " And clearer yet the sweet, enthralling Soprano of your luring voice ! 84 THE NEGRO FIREMAN (Written after a visit to the Toxteth Docks, at Liverpool) A MID misrule of thronged and ciam'rous streets ^^ He stands alone, derisive, callous, cold ; His hands thrust deep in pockets ; on his face The scorn of pomp, and wealth and circumstance. From youth his stunted spirit has been filled With the slack ease of his environment : The listless waving of the tropic palm, Or lazy ripple of the careless tide. Now for a month his knotted hands have toiled, The sweat in sullen drops on his dark brow : Erewhile he merely stood, and calmly watched His patient wife at work in stubborn field* At last his quest is crowned with 'complishment, And after slaving long below the decks He meets with white men on their own fair ground, And sees that England holds both rich and poor* He studies each man's weakness from his stand : His mind conceives a great contempt of power, For women can be purchased, labour forced ; And soon his fingers itch to know and do. He hates the high-born girl with scented hair, And smiling face and well-cut Bond Street gown : His sudden rise, his jaundiced vision make Him despise all our social ornaments. 85 86 THE DRY SEASON What scarlet is to an enraged bull, So to him is the well'dressed man of town : Contemptuously he deems that coward hearts Must always beat beneath a broadcloth coat. He dreams his moody dreams of discontent, And hastes to recollect he too is " free " ; No longer alien, outcast, gone-at'heels, He feels the equal of Creation's Lord. Ah ! Colonisers, here's our Masterpiece Our Menace in the Tropics, Shame at Home ! THE DRY SEASON (An Impression) YV7 ARM-SCENTED nights and purple days ** That haste to happy ends : A heart that sings, a soul that prays, And love that life befriends. TOASTS TJTERE'S to the world as men see it * A barrack, a mart ; An earnest strong heart ; A smile after pain ; Up down up again ; Perpetual pace Of a fretful mad race To a goal where one faints as one gains it I Here's to the world as wives see it A home and a brood ; The rod or the rood ; But the song of the soul To the years as they roll ; If the sky glooms all day "Why, there's starlight to play On a grave where one sighs as one gains it ! Here's to the world as youths see it Love* Hope and the zest Of all that is best ; The juvenile mind Begetting its kind : Pearls, suns, birds and flowers, Coming Kingship, and showers Of Spring rain that laughs low as one gains it I 87 AN EPITAPH P\OUBTLESS my days have been most profligate,- *-* For reckless have I stood 'neath gibes of men ; A humbler spirit is beyond my ken, And I have never suffered fools to prate : Indeed* I have enticed the darkest fate By cold and thought'out callousness ; and when My foes have sneered upon my urgent pen, Indifference I have donned as robe of state. Yet, when I die, and quiet am laid away, Write this upon my grave, that men may know : " Love came to him in flashes, lighted so By crannies in Life's Wall outside, the Day Being bright and warm. . . So did he choose alway The shadowed room, in lieu of noontide's glow I ** 88 ANANIA, KANANI MAIDEN TO RICHARD G. MILLER BANK MANAGER, ONITSHA Un Gage d' Amour CONTENTS PACK I. To Youth and Beauty ... ... 93 II. A Personal Thought ... ... 93 III. Youth and Age ... ... ... 94 IV. Possession ... ... ... 94 V. Murmurs of Life and Death ... ... 95 VI. Lethe and Love ... ... ... 95 VII. The Beloved ... ... ... 96 VIII. At the Wishing Well ... 96 IX. The Choice ... ... ... 97 X. Limitations ... ... ... 97 XL Body Worship ... ... ... 98 XII. Envy of Lovers ... ... ... 99 XIII. Written to Anania ... ... ... 99 XIV. After Twilight Thoughts ... 100 XV. The Weight of Words ... 100 XVL Conscious of Imperfections ... ... 101 XVII. The Wooer's Argument ... ... tot XVIII. A Halting Lover ... ... 102 XIX. Self Communings ... ... ... 102 XX. The Forbidden Fruit ... ... 103 XXI. Love's Hesitation ... ... ... 104 XXIL Accomplishment ... ... ... 104 XXIII. Something in View... ... 105 XXIV. A Full Soul ... ... 105 XXV. Fervour ... ... 106 92 CONTENTS PACE XXVI. Satiety Speaks ... ... 106 XXVII. Reflections Alone ... ... 107 XXVIII. Looking Toward England ... ... 107 XXIX. Foreboding ... ... 108 XXX. At Parting ... ... 108 XXXI. In Old-Time City Streets ... ... 109 XXXII. Pride of Individuality ... 109 XXXIII. The Haunted Brain ... no XXXIV. Hunger for Africa ... ... no XXXV. Continued Remembrance ... ... in XXXVI. Return Irrevocable ... ... in XXXVII. Eager for Arrival ... ... 112 XXXVIIL After the Long Absence 112 XXXIX. The Sublime Condition : Back again at Haroa 113 TO YOUTH AND BEAUTY ~ l^WIN Souls are Youth and Beauty. I may strive By patient work to limn each faithful face Within the mirror of my art* and trace Its peerless worth. But as deft swimmers dive Far out of sight, and linger while they hive What they have found, lest envious ones should chase Them from their trove, I minimise my case ; And what I dream is not what words contrive. Ah ! Youth so fair, and Beauty ever young ! 'Tis yours to mock. Though natural fibres ring The glorious melody of grace high'Strung In wonder of strong realness. Men must sing : But you are present Music ; and among The Things that Are, Songs merely Shadows bring ! II A PERSONAL THOUGHT T ET me love on in my own wilful way. ^"^ The flower is not so fair as frailer bud j I shall not stain my soul the more with mud For my brain-agonies ; or attempt to slay By too much joy the rapture day by day. " The fruit is poisonous ? " None the less, one could Remove the root, and bloom which long has stood As symbol of my dearth would die in May. 93 94 ANANIA Be it my wish and my desire to shun The paths of practised manhood ; and to see My rootless flower of bliss all patiently, Until the leaves are shed beneath the sun Of urgent day. . . Then, should it fade from me, Shrivelled by contact, Love's sweet Will be done I III YOUTH AND AGE \7"EARS have not made me grow, save in a face "Which bears the imprint of my passionate years. Still am I boy, and keenly feel the fears And aspirations of the growing race. The Spring its subtle never'changing case Presents each year; and as the breezes blow I sense the great elation in me grow, That makes my blood to run at sharper pace. Th* inspiring signs of sunny Spring are rife. My nature leaps to greet the growing flowers ; I yearn to crown my days with vernal hours, Each muscle swells to love and light and life : I feel my feet a~dance ; and like a knife Through every vein are Nature's silent powers ! IV POSSESSION tenses of the verb "To Have" I know; Possession is implied by one and all. " I have ** forgets approaching sorrow's call, Laughing delightedly at time's smooth flow ; And will no sweet of ecstasy forego. ANANIA 95 " I shall have " builds on Expectation, tall With buoyant hope. But shadows quickly fall, And woe is added unto wearier woe. M I have had,*' vouchsafe L Supreme content Lies in the Past ; for I have met the pole Of passion ultimate, possessed the whole* Nor time, nor change, nor disillusionment Can ruthless tear away, till life be spent, That perfect treasure, Memory, from my soul I T V MURMURS OF LIFE AND DEATH f O live one little hour above the sod, To see the dewy tears of sinless Youth, To yearn unswervingly for Beauty, Truth, And seek eternally a greater god ; To worship on an earth, where golden-rod Makes wondrous all the fields, and know no ruth Of Love's reprisal, nor the tireless tooth Of Anguish when Death's Valley shall be trod, This is my hope ! What then can Heaven be ? A fiery aspiration and desire ? If she be with me even Hell's dread fire Will meet me unafraid. Love's Mystery Of clinging lips, soft hands and bended knee Must greatest be where soul may never tire ! VI LETHE AND LOVE REAT Venus met me at the close of day, And she was fair and good to look upon j Her eyes were full of light, and fain to con Their lyric lore I stooped my dues to pay. r 96 ANANIA Forthwith she smiled* and gave me answering ray, Until (beholding what my gaze had done, In rousing lust) I tried her arms to shun, Crying : " I fear ! Bid me no longer stay ! " The weighted void advanced* . I stayed her guest ; And through the night we murmured of our love, Drinking deep-nectared draughts ; till high above The lark up-sped. Then I in poppied rest Lost consciousness. And now my lines attest That only in dim dreams can Love approve. VII THE BELOVED 'F you are BeautyLover, linger here A moment's spell to muse on this dear head, Perfect in lilies and in roses, fed Always by health, and wonderfully clear. Her face must to the student'gaze appear A home of peace, in which all doubt is dead ; For turbid feelings are unknown, or sped To restless limbs, and left behind no bier. She is my passion-flower ; and I may see The petals opening daily to the sun. Only to temperate breezes (and the one Which is my love) my sweetheart's soul is free. She is a treasure-casket, full of fun And quaint conceits ; and I I hold the key ! VIII AT THE WISHING WELL r HIS is the place ; for near its waters cool Are elms that shake and shiver in the wind. Mark, where Queen Nature has been over-blind, How tangled rushes choke the green-white pool ! T ANANIA 97 Divinely clear the day ; and from the school, Across the fields, the murmur of young mind At work on Latin words. Now Fate be kind To kneeling worshipper, Love's privileged fool ! I breathe my wish aloud, clasped hands, bent head. No vague desires are mine one dancing name. Nor wealth, nor power, nor virtue, neither fame, Nor sceptred sway, but . . . *' Strength on Beauty fed, My breast to hers 1" The words are softly said : I drink the waters, and am glad I came ! I IX THE CHOICE "T was not I who chose you for a prize. . . . (Now your bright eyes are watching me askance As if you doubted my asseverance !) 'Twas Love that made the choice ; and through his eyes I saw you first. This level paradise, "Where shepherds pipe and woodland'fairies dance, Was opened at his nod ; and by his glance Was I to all save worship made unwise. *Twas Love indeed that took me by the hand To lead me through the portals of your home ; My faltering feet will never care to roam Abroad again. Slave am I to your wand. And while to words we scarce can understand Hearts listen spell-bound, He may whisper " Come I " X LIMITATIONS S Tennyson's fair Lady of Shalott Looked through her glass upon the world of men, A: 98 ANANIA Observing each new passenger ; and when The daylight waned, would weave a fairy plot Of fancy round each life, while glowing hot The blood of her sweet girlhood pulsed again ; Till tales so fashioned by expanding pen Brought to her side stern Nature's counterblot : So watch we from the shelter of our heart, You, little maid, and I this world of pain ; And having tested truth remain most fain To linger in our dream-land, where the chart Is undefined, but perfect in each part, Knowing how little Man of Heaven may gain ! XI BODY WORSHIP ("I read you on my knees." Victor Hugo) T^ T je vous Us a genoux, dearest one ; * ' For you are beautiful as summer trees, Or rippling light of autumn on the leas ; And gentle as the air when day is done. Your voice is sweeter than the lark's, when run His notes adown the azure. And the bees, In thistle-down that trembles in the breeze, "Would find your cheek more fragrant 'neath the sun. Your solemn eyes are stars that shyly break Through veils of darkness under ivory brows. One wistful glance compels from me the vows Of fealty and of love. I may not take Amiss the charms that keep my brain awake, Or in the night ecstatic dreams arouse 1 ANANIA 99 XII ENVY OF LOVERS " YV7ELL, here's for bed," I heard my hostess say. " Each shook my hand; and in the lamp's rose-flame I saw how expectation went and came Upon the man's pale cheek. I turned away To hide my great heart-hunger ; but a ray Of amber light made manifest my shame: The wistful wonder of Love's whispered name Came to his lips . . . ** Night is our natural day I " Ah! Cosy feast of kisses waited them: Red wine and purple grapes and snowy bread, The Sacrament of Hearts, where faith is fed On sentient contact. . . . Eager eyes aflame* Dishevelled hair, and secret honey-name . . . My lonely spirit shuddered like one dead I XIII WRITTEN TO ANANIA not misread me, dear. I have not said That Youth must be enjoyed at Manhood's cost. I bid you look for love ere it be lost Within the deeps of turpitude, or fled Into the dark. The path that I would tread, Were I but you, would simply be at most: Delight to-day from yesterday's glad host, But morrow's seed already in its bed. Pleasure decrees, so garner as you sow, Saving a little where you lightly spend. To have and hope; to see and yet depend too ANANIA Upon to-day's forbearance! Thus will flow Your years toward the goal my creed would show* And heart attain delight without an end* XIV AFTER TWILIGHT THOUGHTS T SLEPT; and in my troubled dreams I cried* ^ For in my dreams my darling came to me; Her humid eyes of brown shone seriously Into mine own. I thought that I had died; And as I waited, Love the undented Leapt into utterance. I said brokenly, **I love, and am forsaken. Come to me!*' Whereat she laid her body at my side. Her moist soft lips were held upon my cheek; Her hair stirred mine. I kissed and kissed again, Until caresses seemed to fall like rain Upon my parched soul. I dared to speak Of foregone raptures. . . . Then I woke to seek Her form in burning vagueness, beauteous pain! T 1 XV THE WEIGHT OF WORDS 'HE unscarred Dante held that words are frail To bear the burden of the heart's best things. The sculptor seizes marble : tribute brings Fit for the years' imperishable tale. And lo ! the rapt musician makes his pale Fancies immune within a score, and sings For all time tireless. But the poet's wings Are clipped by verbal modes, convention's veil. ANANIA I seek to match my metres by my thought ; And only God knows of my high design, The weak conceit comes readier than a fine Mellifluous diction ; and when I have wrought For strenuous hours, my toil has only brought A sense of weakness to my surest line* XVI CONSCIOUS OF IMPERFECTIONS ' I f HINK you the lily envies the red rose, * Or tulip cavils at the cowslip's face ? Each has its separate beauty and its grace, Though wide the gulf of difference that flows Between them. Covetous Nature knows That Envy in Man's soul links him with Space. Speak then, ye dells and trees* that now I trace, Are you oblivious of each other's woes ? Oh, happy bramble, and thrice happy corn, You may not know that you are not so fair As regal rose or lily ! You may wear Your humble coats without a sense forlorn Of poverty ! To carry endless care For beauty, and be ugly there's the thorn ! XVII THE WOOER'S ARGUMENT TVTHY frustrate and forego delight, while stirs * The blood so warmly, mounting to the brain ? My pulses beat and throb in quenchless pain : I hunger for caresses ; and recurs 102 ANANIA The old' time fierce desire, as when the firs Are rocked by winter wind. No pleasure ta'en From out her arms and lips can loose the chain Of my great love's unalienable curse ! Stay I Am I cursed ? I do her soul a wrong In curbing all the currents of my blood ! We love, and Love claims for its earthly food The rapid clasp of bodies, fervent, strong, And unforgettable. . . . The day is long, But night shall come, and Eros be our god I XVIII A HALTING LOVER [AY; I must hesitate, for I am weak And (shunning speech) I save her sighs and tears- My love declared might fill her coming years With lurking pain; and snow of Love's high peak Make inaccessible. I dare not speak ! But O the sweetness of the words night hears! And O the anguish of my breast, as nears Each lonely eve without her virgin cheek! For when the moon has risen I may tell My passion to the silence, and may kiss Her pictured face. My bonds are loosed apart, And I write down in surging lines the spell Of my dear dreams. Someday these memories Will meet her eyes, and I possess her heart! XIX SELF COMMUNINGS REASONED with myself in leafy nook: "Why should you halt? Love's anguish is Delay. I ANANIA 103 And soon the night will drop her curtain gray. To-morrow iron bands may bind the book. She loves you, does she not? And you will brook No trivial words. See ! Sunlight floods your way, And only ripened corn will hear you say Your maddening words. Behold her downcast look. . . ." Above the warm blue hills the sky is clear j The clouds are reddening while we talk; and free Is every sense. She swoons deliciously While Love resistless hushes pride and fear. Beside me kneeling, musingly and near, She whispers: "I will come! Be good to me!" XX THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT " I BRING you Eden's Fruit to-night/' I said j * "The sable darkness shall be ours for screen, And in that perfumed garment I dare ween Our kisses shall be stamped in tribute red. Here, on my breast, your heart shall find its bed; And I will crown you as some chosen queen. Smooth nectar'd words with fiery ones between Will make me wonderful, and subdue your head. "Yea, you shall eat, and know what I have known,- Enter your kingdom, and indulge the thirst Of your parched nature, while around our throne Eros shall flit. Albeit we are cursed With less than immortality, at worst We shall be thrilling to life's organ tone I " 104 ANANIA XXI LOVE'S HESITATION ' I r HE heat still throbbed ; and six o'clock had shown * Her lying listlessly beneath a tree, For slumber fain. And I conceived that she Would wish to spend this naked night alone. My pulses ached, because her fretful tone Reflected discontent at what might be. ... We parted on the stairs, and now the sea Moaned out a heart-dirge that I knew my own! But when the bell had chimed the midnight hour I heard her timid tapping. Cool and sweet She came to me on shining quiet feet. Her dear breath fanned my face; and to the bower Of Love she crept. . . . Lips mixed with thrilling power ; And we lay listening to the tide's warm beat! XXII ACCOMPLISHMENT r'O what can I compare that courted night ? * Her body was for me a splendid stream, And I the swimmer, basking in the gleam Of summer shine. ... Anon, the lucent light Was fretted o'er with shadow. ... In sad plight My limbs became ice'chilled ; and Nature's theme Seemed cold, repulsive. . . . From life's heights supreme Lashed storms and thunder, majesty and might! I sank o'er-eddied, met Death's dreadful door, Dreamed marble, kisses, flowers and ruby-shine, Saw Angels, Devils, glories crystalline. . . . But rose at length to reach a barren shore Where I fell gasping. . * . Heaven and Hell no more Hold secrets! For one night I was divine! N 1 ANANIA 105 XXIII SOMETHING IN VIEW "EW every morning is the love. . ." The thread Of words ran on. I watched my darling's face, Where only peace is found and nothing base. Her thrilling voice, that lifts ungentle dread In licensed freedom, rang out as she read The lilting lines : " And tender is Thy grace. . . ." She sang to God ; but in that sunlit place I sang to her, as to one newlywed I " New every morning. . . ." That were Happiness Too deep for credence ! On the printed line Came wondrous thoughts, more human than divine. From earth it is enough that man should bless His God for life : the moving More or Less My Sweet holds in her palm for she is mine ! I XXIV A FULL SOUL AM as one who on a foreign strand Sucks honey from the comb contentedly, And watches the red glow upon the sea, Deliciously enchanted by the land. No wonted voice is heard on either hand, But limpid language of a people, free From all convention, living peaceably. . . Yet soon must I obey my home's command : Board ship for brumal air, and with a clasp Of ebon hands, turn resolute away To common toil and tedious trivial day; Don warmer garments, colder mien, and grasp The emblems of life's serfdom, while the asp Of envious memory haunts my soul alway ! to6 ANANIA XXV FERVOUR f WRITE my lines for you* for you* for you ; ^ And writing them brings comfort to us both. But I should be of men the last and loth To drink your kisses as a payment due* (Indeed I gladly toil and think for you.) I dare to seek a fuller* ampler growth Of our devotion. When we plighted troth Delayed delight our trembling fibres knew. Sweetest, I long to love you more and less ! For in displacing Love we welcome Sin. Because your life is pure, we must begin To dower your bounty with loveVidleness. . . Princess, you may not, cannot ever guess The Conqueror's Lust when Realm is entered in ! XXVI SATIETY SPEAKS T AST night I from my tear-drenched pillow leapt, ^-^ Maddened with nightmare, to the windowpane ; For in my dreams dread Death had from me ta'en My only treasure. As the moments crept Pallidly onward, in the roadway swept Strange shafts of shifting light, while autumn rain Made all the sky to throb with leaden pain. Dumb and bewildered I the vigil kept. For I was sad, albeit I knew that she Whom most I loved was safe asleep in bed. Delicious tremors of the eve were fled ; And when I lay beside her sleeplessly The sun had risen. . . . Scarce could I bear to see Upon my arm her languorous brown head 1 ANANIA 107 XXVII REFLECTIONS ALONE OOMETIMES the past and present seem to blend ^ Into a voiceless harmony, and thought Comes easy to the soul. Then am I wrought Of spirit only, and I fear no end. But soon I sense that I have not one friend, Whose nature is not self-concealed, or caught Into a Problem, making him as naught Save a flesh-cage which tongue and brain defend. Myself a mystery am ; and none has seen My soul. Present is Future witnessed. Thought, Years and experience, merely serve to screen Men's spirits from each other. Efforts high Bring wonder and dismay, for all must die, And after life is over, what, ah ! what ? D XXVIII LOOKING TOWARD ENGLAND AR God, what glory! *Tis the sea on fire. Earth's strictures gall me. I would fain make fight Against that poignant ecstasy of light, Slain by its flame'tipped arrows of desire ! Ah me! that man should ever thus aspire After the unattainable delight, For what must breathlessly and soon take flight Into the darkness of the night its sire! Simply to leave this over-envious land, And wade toward yon god on eager limb, Until the greenness touches neck, and swim Out to the far horizon, lifting hand Of supplication for another strand, Then gasping fall upon its orient rim! io8 ANANIA XXIX FOREBODING A N eve in livid Autumn, and the lawn *^ Was strewn with palsied leaves that crinkled down Upon our heads ; russet leaves, dead or brown, Leaving the grass in patchwork, as the dawn Mottles the clouds with crimson veils, half'drawn ; Or cloaks with gold the squalor of the town. We stood in silence, watching vapours drown Earth's fairest things beneath a vault of fawn. Our hearts were chilled. For summer vows seemed dead : Could hours of rapture fade so swift away ? Were all our memories fallen to decay ? And must we face the night with words unsaid Of morrow's dawn ? Ah no ... our fears are fled. Lo ! Glowing hearth, God's symbol of bright day ! A 1 XXX AT PARTING ND so our first " Good'byes" we had to say ; We spoke them gravely, wistfully: for fear And vague foreboding shone beneath her tear, Though we protested we would love alway! Stereotyped act for man and maid to play. Could any scene more commonplace appear? And yet, and yet, how hauntingly anear We were at parting on that stammering day! Surely the soul must secretly divine, Through accident and moment, all the truth, Through trembling lips and gentlysubdued voice, Or sweet bird's song that bids the heart rejoice, The message of the falling leaves' red ruth, While stricken lovers wait transfiguring sign! ANANIA 109 XXXI IN OLD-TIME CITY STREETS A LMOST I loathe this city's murk and mire* *^- And yearn for some sequestered calm retreat, Far from the garish light of mart and street, Where vainly I have sought for my desire. Love is self-slain; and only Passion's fire Lurks in these painted cheeks and loitering feet. I seem to read in every face I meet: " I have my price. . . . You will not ? Then, retire 1 " And Christ has died for these, who hold in fee A world so pure and fair in every glen! He knows that I have sought him, how and when; And while they murmur : *' God is naught to me/' I am unhappy their contentment see, And alien am among a world of men! XXXII PRIDE OF INDIVIDUALITY OD made the world ; and seek where'er thou wilt Is Beauty. Education's arid curse Has built the towns, and filled the ample purse Of such as trade in baubles. Conscious guilt Haunts my tired footsteps, where my kind have built Their temples unto Mammon, to rehearse Again and yet again the ancient verse " Dust unto dust. . . ." And thus is manhood spilt ! I'll none of it ! My anguished eyes I raise Unto the blue. The glory that was Greece Was killed by over-culture. To our knees! We do our Maker wrong in deeming praise To be made fit by ceremonial ways. Life days are short, and stars come . . * when they please ! no ANANIA XXXIII THE HAUNTED BRAIN It 71" Y soul is stabbed with pain, my flesh defiled. *** Yet was I young, beneath a burning sky, A little while agone; and lustily Drank Shakespeare's atmosphere, ethereal, mild. I gave my heart to Eros as a child, And vowed that I would playmate ever be. *' Naught will I crave in earth or air or sea Save Youth and Beauty ! " was my promise wild. Slay me not, Eros ! I have lived and sung Your praises with an ever'wakeful brain. My flesh has caught each shaft that you have flung ; And all my roses have been stabbed and stung To dead'Sea fruit. Save then the final pain Of arrow in my heart for life's last rung ! XXXIV HUNGER FOR AFRICA (Written to Ananla) C OMETIMES recall, how 'neath an August sky ^ We sat together on a rock, and made Rare fantasies about the sea, and paid Love's tribute in the gloaming, you and 1 I We watched the stately ships go slowly by ; And listened to the words the sea'gulls said, Until the moon arose, and fleece-clouds laid Their gray against the darkness stealthily. The seasons pass; I on an alien shore Watch the gay pageant you . . . are far away; The sea is chaunting its untiring lay; ANANIA 111 The fields are ripe for harvest as of yore; But I may hold you to my breast no more, Nor feel the gladness of that bygone day! XXXV CONTINUED REMEMBRANCE T_TER photograph, a mirthful maiden face . . . * No more, but in the summer's greeny glades Rests naught for me save pain and ruinous shades. Oft has she lain in my keen love's embrace, To crimson o'er my memories with her grace. Come, love, to me ; ere life's last glamour fades : Place arms around my neck, (no English maid's Were half so soft) here in Love's Holiest Place! Those mystic eyes that oft my lips caressed; That satin skin; that low voice always sweet; Those ivory temples ; and the pulses* beat Beneath the truant threads, where I have pressed My burning tributes. . . . Shall I never rest, Never, ah ! never hear returning feet ? XXXVI RETURN IRREVOCABLE A LBEIT I may still taste sweetest things, ^^ And, like a bee, may bask in many flowers, Lingering alive through honey-throated hours On daffodils that stand in wavering rings, I count it best to fly on weary wings Back to her breast, a shelter from the showers And winds of life. I weary of my powers To waken pleasure from harmonious strings. ii2 ANANIA I see in her a harbour from all pain, A twilight refuge after scorching sun, Her tears bring light of everlasting joy ; And all my manhood urges me again To vow my faithfulness. And hence I run Back to her angel'heart, an ardent boy ! XXXVII EAGER FOR ARRIVAL /CARRIED the lark its carol to the sky ^-^ On steely wing ; but echoing answer none Came from my heart. And when I dwelt upon The cuckoo's call, I felt my soul deny Its invitation. Then the thrush's cry Added its soft inducement to the sun And meadow grass. I felt constrained to run To leaf, lush'Sprouted fern and hedges high. Meshed by the soft voluptuousness of June My face I bent mid bloom and heather blade ; But lonelier yet where nature was, and shade Lay on my brow ... I wait Love's sweetest tune- Nightjar in Afric moonlight. . . . Soon, ah ! soon Her arms around me while the sunbeams fade ! T CANNOT have your kisses every day ; ^ So rest upon my knee, and let me drink Into my heart each feature, or I sink Back to the gulfs of pain. The words you say ANANIA u 3 Become as pearls ; and your sought'Out delay In granting speech has brought me to the brink Of Hell indeed. Ah ! roses damask'pink, That front your lineaments, haste not away. Remember, it may ne'er return again This pregnant moment of our meeting here : In a dim world of doubt and shifting fear No chance may offer for this panting pain Of brief encounter I Let my soul retain Your face for ever thus* so newly near ! XXXIX THE SUBLIME CONDITION (Back Again at Haroa) T TOW sweet it is, when in the silent night ^ (The moon cloud'hidden) sudden on our eyes The wide'armed signal creeps across the skies ; And to a wealthy clatter, orange light And smoky ribbon, past our wakeful sight The train slips by j then in the distance dies With cheerful flash ; like iridescent flies The glowing windows, linked in swaying flight I Some traveller is borne to distant town, While others rush to Love and Hope and Home* But sweeter far, beneath the shadowy dome To thrill with quick delight, to nestle down Against your darling, and the starlit gown Caress with tender fingers* whispering '* Come I " The preceding sonnets replace part o! a private edition of " Through Veiled Eyes" (1908). STRAYS TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER: JOHN PULTNEY YOUNG October xi, 1837 June ix, 1909 Erat homo ingeniosus, acutus, acer, et qui plurimum et salts haberet et f ellis, nee candoris minus. Requiescat in Pace BANISHED OHOULD we have loved, if we had only known *** That Love would go, to come again no more ? I cannot tell I yearn for you alone, And sob before a heavycurtained Door ; Since you are gone* gone are the joys I knew; Slowly from out the sky The long night slips And my arms ache with emptiness of you. . . . Ah, Sweet, your lips that burned upon my lips ! Should we have loved* if we had only known That Love would one day give such heavy pain ? I cannot tell I yearn for you alone, The pillow where your patient head has lain; Since you are gone, all dull my life has grown, Idle among my empty days I stand They pause, and pass, to leave me lost, alone. . * Ah, Sweet, your hand that throbbed upon my hand! I may not cry to thee, dearest of all, For well I know that wheresoever I be, Ever in rosy paths thy feet must fall In soft, fair paths! Ah, dear one, pity me! Now you are gone, the world has grown too wide, With cruel miles that hold us two apart; I sit and watch the long road, wearyeyed. . . Ah, Sweet, your heart that beat upon my heart! 117 ON THE STREAM OEEJ How warm sunset fills ^ The acute-wooded hills; Crimson and carnation glow in the sky; Soon will moon-shadows play On terrestrial way* While Torment and Heartache are bidden Good'bye! For 'tis hour when you come From your desolate home* Timid, yet trusting* on soft patient feet ; And in proud lover-guise All my life-essence flies Into our Ideal Land fragrant and sweet. For we float in a Dream On the mystical Stream* With a Gulf of Delight broad spread to our boat That when darkness be done* And our passions have run* We return to the Mundane with fibres agloat! Ah! we curb not the pace Of our craft in its race We heed not; for ours is the Rapture of Youth; And the swift waters flow From the dim Long Ago On to the Country of Consummate Truth! 118 ON THE STREAM 119 Should the white rapids roar (As we knew them before I) Our trust shall be placed in the Great Ones above ; Frail mortals must pleasure To sense's 'full measure When Life is a-glitter with Laughter and Love ! The pixies shall lead us, And naught shall impede us Remorse for companion shall know us no more ; Come, sweetheart, I meet you, My warm arms shall greet you Come quickly to Rest and to fair Bridal Door I Thus in Memory's Haze We shall live in the days When fanned by the breeze and refreshed by the dawn We stepped back to earth After Conflict and Mirth On the stream of Experience, 'twixt midnight and morn ! THE PRISM I was silent, reviewing that inexhaustible matter the more than inherited (since it is also carefully taught) brutality of the Christian peoples, beside which the mere heathendom of the West Coast nigger is clean and restrained. It led me a long distance into myself. " Don't do that ! " she said of a sudden, putting her hands before her eyes, "What?" She made a gesture with her hand. "That I It's it's all purple and black 1 Don't! That colour hurts!" RUDYARD KIPLING. REEN is the Soul of Nature, fresh and strong; And Green the Hearts of Children in their youth Green is the Eager Force of Joy and Song, And Green the Thoughts that round the Poet throng, While Green are Right and Truth I Red is the Anger of Devouring Flame, And Red the Fury of the Sullen Star ; Red is the Pride of Birth, the Lust for Fame, Desire for Victory or the Search for Shame, And Red all Hatreds are I Purple is Colour in the Nbonlit Skies, Where Cloudlets softly loom like Angel' Wings ; And Purple is the Greed in Haughty Eyes, The Power to Rule and Secret Tyrannies, And Purple, Scorn's slow stings ! White is the Bashful Maiden's Bridal Morn, And White the Mantle of the Snowclad Earth j White is the Trembling Soul by Death outborne, And White that Silence, where no Strife is born, And Peace, Good- Will and Mirth! THE SUMMIT 121 Blue is the Boundless Moonbright Canopy Above our heads when Midnight Hour has chimed j And Blue is the Trustful Calm of Honesty, Of Earnestness, Belief and Bravery And Love the Willing-Blind ! Yellow is Wealth, Deformity and Sin : Men sell their Souls to wear its Magic Pall Stupid without and simply vain within, Its Sordidness no Healthy Praise may win ; Yet It is Lord of All! THE SUMMIT TN folds of melody the rhythms run * Along the mountain's parabolic shelves ; A string of liquid notes that drown themselves In rocky hollows, aureol'd by the sun, And glinting sudden shadows, where the dun Of deep old gorges points the home of elves, Or cavern'd close where gnome or goblin delves : Is this the ring of picks that has begun ? I climb the steep: and lo! a feeble flock Of cattle grazing ; and the music flows In fuller cadence. Near the drowsy kine A youthful shepherd sits upon a reck, And sings his *' Lura, la, la, la," repose Upon his limbs, and love within his eyne ! WHITE ROSE PURE White Rose of my Heart's Desire, (A wandering singer) I Have long been living too near the fire, Were it not fitter to die ? I have loved the world, and sung of the world, And sought many a garden^close ; But I tire of them all ; and my wish impearled Is the heart of a snow'white Rose. Deny me not then your petals rare I yearn for your quiet breast ; My soul is soiled, and I may not dare Drink honey if snow means rest ! I know I have loved, where I have sinned as well* But pure'petalled Rose I believe That for every kiss that my lips may tell My pain has made bosom to heave I Petals or thorns, resistance or peace, I care not. . . . O, let me come in ! Slay me or love me but give me release From this aching burden of sin ! 122 INVOCATION (Ozora Odum * I r OO swiftly falls the night across the fields : * No twilight hour this summer ever yields For, *twixt the Daylight Strand and Sea of Night Is only sudden Change, to Dark from Light ! Dejectedly I ponder, with the scene As impulse of my thoughts. What would it mean To have your arms around me, Dusky Maid 1 To pay in kisses : be in kisses paid ? For on the Path of Love my soul perceived (When first I spoke to you) that here, for me, Was the Lost Heart, and you ... ah 1 you believed, And, childlike, took my preferred fealty ! Come, love, to-night, and wake me from my dreams : Let breast meet breast ! Almost this glamour seems To make you Devil, Woman, Angel too, And me half Genius I Sweet, I always knew The flame-like splendour of your body's fire, And surging throb of your first fierce desire ! Come then ; and let our kisses freeze or burn ; And (when the dawn shall wake) each may return To niggard task and tedious trivial day, Uplifted by the Treading of the Grand and Primal Way ! 123 A WARNING PVEAR, shade your dewy eyes; ah! shade them well, "^ Lest they should speak aloud their newest pleasure : Sweet simple face, you must not ever tell How Love has found its ultimate rare treasure. And close your rosebud lips ; ah ! close them tight, Lest others mark their glory and their gladness : For happy flower, the common person might Miscall our passion perilous a madness ! So veil your face ; ah ! veil it with a look Of innocent expectance still unspoken ; For you are mine, mine, mine and I will brook No trespasser through fence that I have broken ! 124 THE MIRACLE TV7HEN she is near ** How sweet appear All natural things ! My glad heart sings ; And every flower Marks gladder hour For me j and dear Is earth's glad cheer 1 When she is near The fields are rife With love and life ; Each bird makes croon In joyous tune; Each insect sings On silver wings When she is near I When she is gone I dwell upon Gray natural things ; No sweet throat sings. Dark seems the sky, For sad am I The ghostly hours Are void of flowers. 125 126 LOVE'S MASQUERADE Sadly I con (When she is gone) The general sigh Of sentient things. Insect or bird In song or word No more is heard When she is gone* LOVE'S MASQUERADE "PVROP this disguise, thou shrivell'd hag; *-^ I know this hood and cowl beneath Conceal a maiden form. Bequeath To debauchee thy draggled rag ! Thy halting pace cannot deceive ; For this I claim as interlude I know thee in thy virgin mood ; Beauteous and fair beyond belief. Some see thee as thou now appear'st* Old, haggard, weary, sear'd and wan, And fear thee greatly as thou near'st The land of eve and setting sun. But thou art young, and so can ape, Old Age, inclined to dismal mood, Ah ! this I claim as interlude Young Venus smiles beneath yon cape ! REVERIE (O. Bosa.) T ALWAYS thought the sky was blue but now * I know 'twas merely gray ; For I have never seen a sky of blue Until to-day. I always deemed that flowers their docile scents Upon the air did shed ; But now I realise their spicy wealth Was well-nigh dead ! I always held that Life was fair and good I drank it long and deep ; But now I know that all its finer joys The new days keep. Withal, dear heart, I seek a Greater Gift : No Sip from Stranger's Bowl You give yourself to me in close embrace : I . * seek your Soul ! You loan your beauty to me for an hour : I hold it in my hand But, dearest one, I shall not rest content On mortal strand ! So give me all ! This world was ageing fast, And I was ageing too ! Once more let Life become rejuvenate, While brain and body, soul and senses mate With you, with you ! 127 SILENCE IV 71 Y soul is sad, for the earth is still ** Save for the fall of the rippling rill; The moon rides swiftly across the sky Flooding the earth with light but I Am sad tO'night. My life is cold and congealed with care, The silence oppresses me everywhere ; My mind still dwells on the haunting past Rippling my peace, like a pebble cast On waters still. Throb* throb, my heart, for again anon The dawn will break, and the moon be gone ; Wake, troubled soul, and thy doubts repress- God gave the night and its calm to bless. Throb, weary heart ! 128 SUDDEN MEETING T CANNOT recall in the past * Any moment that, deep in my heart, Your name did not sing. Now at last We have met, Cynara, without art. In every vague hour I have spent This love of my soul lingered there i Hours of peace : days of known discontent. Weary moments of death and despair. Though your generous face I ne'er saw, And your musical voice never heard, I bent to th* imperial law Of Love's simple and unwritten word ! I would offer my dust to the wind, Or my body relinquish to fire, If only your pity were kind, And answered my urgent desire. Since Youth have my steps been apart, My head has been held proud and high ; And now for this love in my heart I would freely and willingly die. You are all that is lovely and light, Cynara, whom long I adored, And now in the hush of the night At your feet reverent homage is poured. 129 VACILLATION F MAY not possess the soul, "* O body sweet and pure, For when I have paid the toll, The spirit would not endure ; And if I yearn'd to keep The spirit clean to me, I know your love would sleep For lack of ecstasy : I may not have you whole, Body and soul and flame* I must renounce the soul, When I the body claim I 130 EXPERIENCE, NOT YEARS (First written for music) A N insect dwelt on a butterfly's wing, *^ And a butterfly's wing is small ; And this insect mite was a tiny thing It had to be, or the song I sing Would never be sung at all. And the butterfly's wing was wondrous fair, Crimson and green and gold, Ay ! delicate shining tints were there, Each close together in a separate square* Like silks on a patchwork old* And the patch where the insect dwelt was gray 'Twas dull where the insect dwelt ; It saw the rich colours from where it lay* And it sighed, and it sighed through the summer day, And discontented it felt. So it braced itself to its great desire* And it took its staff in hand ; Then, after adventures strange and dire, It came to the patch of crimson fire The glorious and happy land. But all the time it had hoped and feared, The sun in the summer sky Was sinking low, and the West it neared, Just as the patch of red appeared Quite close to the insect's eye. 13 2 THOUGHT AND ACTION And the insect lifted its voice to sing To sing for a victory won ; "When lo! the whole of the gorgeous wing Turned ashen and gray like a lifeless thing For the summer day was done. Now, if on a summer's afternoon You look around, you'll see That many who yearn for a far-off boon Who can have the sun, yet retain the moon, Are quite as foolish as he ! THOUGHT AND ACTION Tl TfAN'S pains and pleasures pass away ** The things he' loves to brood upon But if they came to him one day In hosts, his cry would ring " Begone ! " A MAIDEN'S EYES CING of a Maiden's Eyes, ^ Eyes like the glimmer of night. Let the voice of a poet solemnize The birth of these gems, bedight With glory of pearl and chrysolite. Sing ! for the sparkle of eyes Has launched the ships from historic strands And built the temples of witching lands. Eyes, eyes ! Things of beauty and use are seen That without their love had never been, The love inspired by eyes ! Blue eyes, brown eyes ! No flower is fairer on God's earth, No diamond truer than the birth Of hope without disguise ; O strength of all'inspiring love, Men see it and they daily prove The strength of a maiden's eyes ! Frank eyes, pure eyes ! The courts of dead powerful Kings, The song that the poet sings, All beauteous eternal things Immortalize The power of a Maiden's Eyes I 133 RETRO ME "* I 'HE rich enraptured hair * Of ruddy Lust I saw ; And she was passing fair And well worth dying for. Her eyes were eyes of flame, Her breasts were breasts of fire ; And I breath'd low her name In ecstasy of desiret " For Love/* they say, " is Pain, And many die for her ; To perish I am fain, If Love as she be fair ! " I saw that Love was fair, And cherish'd* did not slay ; I turn'd from the ruddy hair Of Lust* to Love away. " See thou my breast of snows, Where wind is never rude ; Here is a fragrant rose, Here peace and solitude ! " Pale is my Love, and dear, As cold as moon i* the night ; But I worship without fear, And bend to her nebulous light. '34 TRIOLETS I T OOK she is turning, *-* The Lady of Eyes, To set my heart burning ; Look she is turning, Her lovely face learning A dainty disguise ; Look she is turning, The Lady of Eyes* II When eyes are so bright What is mortal to do ? *Mid silence of night, When eyes are so bright, *Tis vain to take flight Love means to pursue; When eyes are so bright What is mortal to do ? Ill Since bright are her eyes Is it lawful to look ? How quickly time flies, Since bright are her eyes I can see Paradise In this shady nook : Since bright are her eyes Is it lawful to look ? 135 i 3 6 TRIOLETS IV I ask'd for three kisses In spite of her shrinking ; Nay, nothing amiss is, I ask'd for three kisses, Three only and this is The number worth drinking ; I ask'd for three kisses In spite of her shrinking. V My sickness is sweet, As I stand at the lattice ; (She steals down the street) My sickness is sweet, I wonder if that is Her form down the street ? My sickness is sweet As I stand at the lattice. VI For love is the key That the whole world unlocks- A1I the heartaches that be ; For Love is the key : Hope bids pain to flee Out of Pandora's box ; For love is the key That the whole world unlocks. ALLADA'S SONG ON THE RIVER BANK * I f OO much of women ; too much of love ; * But the world's here, and the sea's near, And God is above ! Too much of pleasure ; too much of pain ; But the bird sings, where the wood rings, And friends still remain ! Too much of wisdom; too much of grief? But the sun shines, while the heart pines For rest and relief ! Too much of laughter ; too much of tears j And 'tis good night with a new light, When pale passion nears ! 137 TIMOR MORTIS CONTURBAT ME ET not Time's hand the bright inviolate hair "^ "Warden with floating flame. Upon the breast Lay not the trembling hands in such possessed Fruition of repose : the vision bare Of Love's rich rapture. Give me the eyes that stare Through mists of yearning in a clutching quest, Where Truth and Purity all but sink oppress'd Down the black gulf and hollow of Despair. Give me no Lily, but a thorny Rose* A Rose of red and passionate Desire. Love's best disciples are in no wise those Who walk the world in virginal attire, But such as find their fate in overthrows, And forge Life's fetters in a heart of fire ! U I shudder to the centre of my brain, And like a shipwreck'd man before the blast, Hopeless and weary, clinging to the mast, I drift with every current of the main. (Degenerate delights are still a bane!) I view the sullen sins that grip me fast, And though the path be hard, and sorrows last, All joyously I'd grasp my sin again. 138 VENUS AND LOVE 139 For veins may quicken in a keener fire Beneath the sway of retrospect ; the eyes And ghostly splendour of my youth's desire Can lift life's sordid thoughts above the mire ! Ah ! not oblivion ! Give me my memories Sin's subtle sceptre and love's predal prize I VENUS AND LOVE T_IER child being born, great Venus knew ^ * The fullest joy in Cupid's rest j Then, one by one, his plumes outgrew* And so ... he left her snowy Breast To range the world in search of Joy . . . And hence the Mother lost her Boy. THE FIRST MATING A ND is this all ? Is this rare Love's disguise, '^ Wan cheeks of snow, red lips and sombre eyes ? I staked my youth, my zest, my all to win, And reach'd my manhood ere I cried* " Begin ! " In discontent my soul too long has yearn'd To crown desire in the fire, that burn'd To nothingness I O eyes I worshipp'd long, And wrought so patiently into my song, Your incense is not sweet enough, for lo! I long have tasted joys you cannot know ! hands that flashed across my dreams in youth, 1 feel but your disguise, for I had truth ! I to myself sufficed. I could not tire, For who can limit out the heart's desire ? I heard the maidens crying on the hill, "Ah! come and taste of Love in youth, and fill The hollows of your torpid nights and days With passion's kisses and her perilous ways!" 140 THE GARDEN 141 This Love is born in bonds, is desolate* Fragile and kindly and compassionate ; My Love was born of maniac, scattering joys More strangely sweet than are your pale annoys* O, blessedness of innocence ! Is this Your crown and diadem ? An empty kiss ! THE GARDEN A S the pathways of Life we slowly tread ^^ The Garden around us blooms and glows Faith's Token, a Pansy; Love's Gage, a Rose; And Regret's Vain Symbol, a Lily . . dead! COMPARISONS A S the dew to the fragrant rose-bud, ^^ As the wave to the solemn sea ; As the gleaming sands to the desert So is the Coast to me : A part of my intimate being* Repelled* retained or fleeting, The dear "West Coast for me I As the well to the tired wayfarer, As the wind to the waiting tree ; As the rain to the thirsty meadow, So is the Coast to me : A land of tears and laughter, Where memory lingers after, The dear West Coast for me ! As the laden breeze to the sailor, As the clover-f ield to the bee ; As the slope to the mountain-climber, So is the Coast to me : The tune of a haunting chorus, The bird that flies before us, The dear West Coast for me ! 142 SLEEP AND WAKING M3 As gold to the moulded bracelet* As love to the heart for key, As the glowing hearth to the wanderer, So is the Coast to me : A fancy* an inspiration, Reward and reparation The dear "West Coast for me SLEEP AND WAKING "II 7TAN, mayhap, after Dreaming "* On risks and perils run, wake, past further seeming To find God's Heaven won! A GLIMPSE (Ibrahima, Foulah de Conakry) A STRETCH of sea aglow beneath the sky, Latticed by piers, and linked to the beach ; The mountains looming purple ; and the sly Sweep of the stealthy dancers, as they reach The central form, then drop into the crowd. Harsh clang of drums, continuous and shrill, The sullen murmur of the mob, the loud Insistent singing of the maidens, volatile, Swaying like painted marionettes, that stir Beneath the ruling hand of some eccentric sorcerer. And then among the sails of speeding ships I see thy form. (The flashing water's green, The dusky boatmen, and the oil that drips From the full casks I) Ay, there in tunic clean, White from the neck, with feet that peep below, And soft brown shoulders, gleaming teeth, red lips, (Of honey'd sweetness, shaped like Cupid's bow, I know them well !) and undulating hips ! But rarer than these treasures superfine, Thine eyes, indifferent to the girls, in sweet response to mine ! Softly the visible world recedes ; the gray Of mental twilight creeps before mine eyes ; Thy voice is in mine ear ; the words I say Fall strangely, like an echo, then the prize : 144 THE MONK 145 Soft hands in mine again. There seems to dart An opal fire* night's purple flower of love, Through the chain'd silence of my variable heart ; I am serenely 'ware of treasure-trove, The cloudy flame of sense, the soul-caress, Music and mystery, and the joy of mutual tenderness! THE MONK (A Passing Thought) 1" AM a Monk, who in his lonely cell Prays long and earnestly before the Cross, And strains his inward vision to the Stars, While the Night deepens; and in anguish cries " O Christ, Man celibate, and God of all, Annihilate in me all taint of sin, Remove from me the feebleness of flesh " Yet sees before him beauteous witching shapes, Who in his ears cry Love and Love and Love ; While in the under-chambers of his mind, Are scenes and sounds of nature at her best : Rich woodland, verdant valleys, flowing streams ! Ah ! 'tis a mood, and as a mood 'tis fled* . . * Still am I free, and can resume my tale Take up the fabric of my alien days For sweet Love's sake* Hark ! from out yonder room A dear voice cheers me with its carollings ! LOVE A SK what is Love, *^ Comes no reply. Some look above, Others sigh. Tears, blood and tears Best answer make ; True Love brings fears For dear one's sake. Love is a Rose, (Ah I Love's a mood I ) Sorrow to those 'Yond maidenhood ; Glory to youth, Strength to the man ; Eternal as Truth, Define it who can ? 146 TOWARD ENGLAND touch here is of magic green, * Surpassing Afric's riper brown ; I hail again the beloved scene Of busy English town. Dear memoried Land ! A gentle wind of western birth, From some near'distant sunny shore, Is waking daisies from the earth, And thoughts at my heart's core. Old Happy Isle! The sun is low ; the paths are wet ; The boughs make frolic in the breeze : Those of the elder birth are yet Attired in autumn ease. Misty white Moon ! Up comes the primrose wondering, While timid snowdrop droopeth by ; The robust spirit of the Spring Is working silently. Fair Hope of Youth ! When earth lay hard, unlovely, dull, And life and movement dumbly slept, Above her, Heaven grew beautiful, And forth her beauty crept. Dark Dangers past I 147 148 TOWARD ENGLAND And when tears fall (as fall they will)* A smile shall wander to our home ; And though the sun be obscured still A perfect day must come* Bright Golden Hope ! To rose'decked eve and king-cupp*d morn Each happy year still Nature sighs : In us the same sweet thought is born We sleep in that we rise. Cool perfect Rest! A light of life more magic yet Shall shine o'er sea 'neath moon and star, And with her graceful sails all set Our Ship shall cross the Bar. Immortal Truth ! APHRODITE /""NUT of the black of the night she came, ^^ The cold mists hid the dawn ; Where the vague winds whisper a spectre's name I heard her breath indrawn ; I saw her lift tumultuous breast Towards the flashing sun* And as the ocean croon'd to rest Her fleeting course was run. I gazed on the pallor of her flesh, Betwixt the dawn and the dew ; I saw her hair which the sea-weeds mesh And anemones renew ; From the cloven rock, the humid fen, The ooze of the blue abyss, Find ye among the children of men A flower so fair as this ? Behold her brow like the citron bud, The sea'blue eyes below, Her snowy arms unmix'd with blood, The bosom all aglow ; Pallid from darkness, adorably white, Pale as a spirit with night in her hair, Soulless (yet sensuous) she moves through the light Of our terrestrial air ! 149 PHANTOM LOVE T WAS alone j the yearning night, Moist, fragrant, like a flower Grew around me and exhaled delight To bless my one sweet hour* I stood where, 'mid the green and gold And opal, near the graves, The moon cast down her misty fold In soft ethereal waves. My dead Love came* She seem'd to swerve Athwart the flickering shine J I saw new grace, a lovelier curve In every secret line* Fair raptured vision I Fairy face And Angel form complete 1 O privilege to now embrace And hold from head to feet ! 150 NIDALLAH aNSPIRED bards of olden times, Help a minor poet's rhymes ! From your realms invisible Whether Heaven or whether Hell, Help him here to now express All Nidallah's loveliness.) Eyes like violets wet with dew, Just as limpid, just as blue; Cheeks so satin soft and round, Dimples wherein Love lies drown'd ; Masses rich of raven hair, Keep the sunbeams 'prisoned there ; Taper lash, and drooping lid Where, beneath, sweet thoughts lie hid ; Red carnations where the bee, Humming low and drowsily, Honey'd nectar slowly sips, Match her parted smiling lips, Lips that in the sweet smile's curl Show the underlying pearl. Like unto an Angel's song Is her voice the whole day long ; Sweet her breath is as the breeze That has passed over clover seas ; 1 5 2 NIDALLAH One might find a blushing rose Of the hue her soft cheek shows, Blooming by some country way On a sultry summer day. Nidallah sweetest vision Glimpse of realms Elysian, Silver voice, and fairy face, Memories of your gentle grace, And the love^light in your eyes, Seem to me like Paradise. For, dear maiden, young and fair, Smiling, fresh and debonair, You have poison'd with love's dart My life, my soul, my panting heart ! NATURA BENIGNA PHIS is a day of golden shine * Capricious as a Spanish maid, And I am living in the shade* Content to drink ambrosial wine. The forest knows me, and replies In laughter low, and joys to greet The lazy passage of my feet, The languid amour in mine eyes. All through the day, the livelong day, I would be free as the birds are free To bask in the sun of liberty, With not a soul to say me Nay. My mother may have hid from me The secret of this blood of mine, And quieted with a Christian sign The splendour of old Romany ; But here amid the forest v,'.)d My blood may dance through every vein The ancient tale is told again And I become a gipsy child. 154 THE MID SEASON The forest knows me and is glad, It laughs and weeps for very woe ; Here where the wildflowers sweeter blow She gives a welcome to her lad ! I swear by all the wandering kings, The life I live shall be always free, For my heart is the heart of a Romany, And my blood has the fire of ancient things I THE MID SEASON YV7ET palm leaves, pale against the Sky ; ** An empty Vault of Sodden Gray ; The River racing madly by And the Homeland far away I II Green palm leaves, brightening once again ; A hint of Warmth ; bird's Carol clear ; The River's musical Refrain And the Homeland drawing near ! RENUNCIATION SHOULD we ever return from our Exile (God knoweth the Heart's Desire I) To settle in gelid England beside some glowing fire* The dust of our wanderings shaken from weary and love-bruised feet, "Would our senses be seared with longing for what we erewhile held sweet? The psalm of Atlantic breakers, or the Niger's low refrain ; The secret Bush and the mountains ; the evening's exquisite pain j The nightjar's song to the moon-cloud; the cuckoo's punctual cry; The riot of opal and crimson in the changing summer sky ? The caress of the breeze on the temples, as we ramble the narrow path, Where it dips to the dusky valley, cool stream as an aftermath ; First the Sun, the Space, and the Splendour: then the Forest's noble Gloom, Lit only by dimness of wattle or lily in fragrant bloom ? Here the blackbirds whistle so blithely, and the parrots chatter and call* While the nimble fish make frolic among the rushes tall . . . Ah I myriad-toned Tongue of the Country* you speak to us not in vain : We could never suffer the City, who have learned of your passion and pain! 155 i 5 6 RENUNCIATION Home-lovers must lack our Freedom They know not the hunter's toil: They taste not the sweets of conquest, nor the glory of the spoil: When the leopard's strength is vanquished, she, the fiercest of Earth's Brood, And Peace has acquired the station of a swift and treacherous mood* The Little Man of the Suburbs has not marked the elephant feed, With its curling trunk uplifted above the sibilant reed I Though wife and mother may tremble and curse Old Afric's charm, The lover and husband continue to cling to her circling arm. Our Afric's a Wonderful Woman: her limbs God has shaped at His ease: They are graced with His colour and worship, and all that a lover might please; Her call to the many is treacherous, though her voice be the song of a bird, Yet we mark how her fair features flush at the sound of an endearing word. Each Coaster is bound to her Body by strands of her tremulous hair: The heart being enwebbed in its meshes, withal full content in the snare. She is fresh from the Garden of Eden : a Bride for the Husband's Delight, And will reign through the Ages unending, glowing warm in the Dark of our Night. The Man in the frenzied City diminishes Life away A cold hard pavement under his foot, stern walls to blot the day; RENUNCIATION 157 With indifferent crowds to jostle, unfriendly eyes to greet, 'Mid the roar and rattle of Commerce, the menace of surging feet, Deformity, Dirt and Drizzle ; Disease and Shame and Rue, And no chink in the lowering fog'doud to let God's sunshine through. O I Who would bide in the City, when the Field is fresh from the Rain, And who would ignore the whisper: "Come back . . . to the Bush again 1 " ? We kill in our hearts the Longing to travel the restless sea, Though Homeland be calling from meadow, lush grass, and from murmuring lea. Here, the egret soars sedately toward her distant lair, And midnight holds honeyed whispers from many an amorous pair. What value an English harvest, or the glamour on glade and hill, When the spirit eternally broods on a Winter that knows no chill? We cannot forsake the tropics our homes would be empty and bare, For the ghosts of a thousand memories would beckon us other- where ! Let England call never so loudly for the suitors she once bent to hear; We know that the rivers are strenuous ; that the woods are all ashen and sere; Let the winds whistle on their welcomes through bramble and forest old The smiles of our darlings have languished; the voices we cherished are cold. i 5 8 A SHADOWED THOUGHT Suppressed in our souls is the hunger to view ancient scenes again : The red of the rose has faded ; crumpled petals now only remain* And in Afric the noontide is golden, each night brings us music and mirth, So the land that was Home of our Childhood no longer remains on the Earth ! * I r HE sun encouch'd upon a bed of blood, Filling the path with shadows long and weird; And through the trees a-tiptoe then there near'd One with shamed face who beckon'd to the wood. ROSES AND LILIES TVTHITE flesh and a soul's desire, ** Lilies and roses : HeartVease and a soul on fire, Roses and lilies ! How still is My heart. It reposes On lilies and roses. Virginal flesh and a heart of flame, Roses and lilies : Name that is all in all, I claim Lilies and roses. Night closes Round. Your will is Roses and lilies ! 159 THE SEDUCTIVE COAST TJERE the Waves of Burning Cloud are rolled ^ * On the passionate Haze of our Luring Coast *Tis a Land of Wonder that we behold* And it stands for Menace as well as Boast. We linger enthralled at each Odious Post, Where our Solace is Work, and the Search for Truth ; And whenever we wish for a fitting Toast It comes in the words : " To an outraged Youth I '* Whoso reads this book will have seen the Gold Of our Phantom Quest, and will learn at most That the Crown of Life to man's brow is cold In a land where Lust is an affable Host* Attentively read, ere you pay the Cost Of a body gnawed by Malaria's tooth And a Brain by Emotions shaken and tossed, Till the Glamour has taken a Form Uncouth. Though Dreams and Visions in throngs untold May haunt our nights as we shiver or roast, Yet the hands that caress us are over-bold, And the Fancies of Faith are eternally lost Ah ! Deep is Remorse when man sees the cost Of a bright Hope slain and a tarnished Youth : So whenever you hear on our lips the Boast Recall that naught is so witless as Truth I 160 IMPRESSION: AT A FRENCH PORT 161 L'ENVOI Reader, who scans " The Seductive Coast/* Where our Life is described and our Secrets told, Uplift your glass to my parting Toast ** May we never Love's Aftermath behold 1 " IMPRESSION: AT A FRENCH PORT (In Memoriam, Philip King, died during the Rains of 1909 in Northern Nigeria.) ABORIOUS Surf on a stornvswept Shore ; "^ Clamour of winches and clanking of chains ; Passion of Voices above the Roar ; Persistent fall of the spongy Rains ; This is the City where you and I Moved 'mid the Medley of Barter and Trade ; Hurrying Clouds in a Sodden Sky ; Sob of the Sea, and a lone Bird's Cry ; You, whom I loved, as ne'er Man loved Maid, Do you not heed them ? Good-bye ! Good'bye ! AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT My dear Rudyard Kipling, It will appear to you a somewhat Gilbertian method of dedicating a book, by adding to the general matter an irrelevant postscript. And yet, will not your name here after my readers have ploughed their way through the little poems of "The Seductive Coast " be more satisfying than on the earlier page ? I do not wish to recount in detail those stirring memories of youthful admiration (Soldiers Three; Plain Tales from the Hills; Barrack Room Ballads; Departmental Ditties; Stalky . . , but why enlarge the list?) which moved me to ask you, a month or two ago, for this mark of approval and recognition. My verses themselves show forth the influence of your far'reaching mind. Here, then, let me present you with a slight description of our life and work in Western Africa. It is a land which you know well by analogy: a land so eloquent of barbaric nations and fearsome customs that no other country (not excepting your own beloved India) can inspire the student of human character more liberally. And West Africa calls you prospect after prospect, fervid as any known in the Southern or Eastern Continents, problem after problem of life and destiny, fasci- nating as any given by the Orient. Will you not be persuaded to spare us a few months of your leisure? Whole-heartedly 162 AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT 163 you may rely upon a sincere welcome from every " Coaster" who has read and understood your work. In return we are assured of the resultant harvest of genuine literature. My own futilities may serve, no matter how clumsily* to point the way* Only, come ! In reading over these proofs, beneath the glowing sky of an August day in Onitsha, opal and crimson and blue, I have remarked with no little degree of disquiet, how potently passion is written across most of them. Justly or unjustly, I appear to have written down the Coast as the inevitable home of the liber am ant. Well, the more sensitive readers of my verses will need to recall that I have sought to render the South and the most morbid and unhealthy of the known Tropics, be it added in terms of the North. The sensuous pursuit of any pet theory of morals is, sans dire, the sin unabsolvable. In West Africa, simply, we live in touch with natural beings, and we become, almost unconsciously, mightily unconventional. Let it be hoped, in passing, that each man of us has his individual vices, without any accompanying grossness ; and his special passions, without any unnecessary indication of vulgarity. ** If you've got the same address/' you tell me in the closing paragraph of your letter; and in these few words you sum up the uncertainty and peril of the Coaster's career. Many of the best'known men on the Niger and the Coast have gone through the South African War and gone through it unscarred! A number of them met you there, and shared with you the vicissi' tudes which you sing so clearly and convincingly in " The Five Nations." Out here, there are not many dangers from "iron shard and flinty rock." But there are constantly the unseen forces of fever and dysentery, and innumerable other " minor ills," 164 AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT diseases to which the flesh of dwellers in the Tropics is the acquired heir! And so, my dear Kipling, it is an earnest hope that when these poems shadows from out the bright glow thrown by the fire of experience shall have been read by men and women at home, they may (as much for the sake of your admiration of a * cleaner, greener land/* and incidentally its " neater, sweeter maiden/* as for my own sake) count them neither futile, nor altogether unworthy of remembrance and preservation. West Africa awaits the perfect delineator, and she asks you to come over and help us ! Will you not promise ? Wishing you an increased range of observation, and an even more permanent success, Yours faithfully, J. M. STUART- YOUNG. On the Niger River ; August, 1909. He can work very well Saturday Review. Style and substance Observer. The quiet assurance of a master of style Globe. Individuality Leeds Mercury. Genuine gift for song New York Herald. He has lived Sydney Bulletin. Charmant et sincere Le Semeur. Really fine work Manchester Guardian. A delight to read him Standard. The ashes glow as he breathes upon them Morning Post. S'il e'tait Parisien ! Le Figaro. He does us good ; but when all is over at the play we go out into the street to find it raining African Mail. On pense des Goncourts Le Matin. Unusual and entertaining Speaker. An air of sincerity. Spectator. Bizarre Academy. Son beau livre Le Petit Parisien. Strongly individual Glasgow Herald. Far and away above the average Dundee Courier. and Peculiar Speaker. Tedious Bystander. Worthless Manchester Courier. Affected Daily Mail. Unnecessary Irish Times. Eccentric World. Shameful Daily Graphic. 165 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. PLYMOUTH University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. 5037 ftie seductive 59325s coast UC SOU t^*&^*uuSa& lllllli liil "'' A r" 4 p. PR 6037 R1V S(