PR 6017 I95e aliform; ?ional ility THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES EROS' THRONE Book of Chains. "A book of some originality, serious, penetrating, pathetic, but with a semi-frivolous and semi-chaffing preface, which is very much out of place. Somehow the book (not the preface) reminds us of Olive Schreiner ; certainly there is a practiced hand in it. It is a small book, only about a hundred slim pages, but it contains over sixty pieces, some of them extremely short. The Chains refer to life's bondage and actually to prison life, concerning which some terrible suggestions are made. There is in the book a rare delicacy and yet keenness of thought, and some very strong characteristics in the matter of expression." — The Cuming Day. "We come at last to a volume which may safely be described as a gem. The preface alone is priceless." Hostile notice. — British Review. " Almost every line shows the inspiration of true poetic ideas." — Liverpool Post. A FEW COPIES REMAIN. SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LD., LONDON. EROS THRONE BY GEORGE IVES $ o n b a xx SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO. Li>r. i 900 GLASCOW : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY ROBERT MACLEHOSR AND CO. uo/7 Contents PAGE A Recollection - - 9 An Eton Boy - 14 I Can Trust Thee 16 Does Hope Beat High '. 18 J. S. — Convict - - 19 Dark that gives Dawn - 21 Fragment - 22 Fragment - - 22 Mark how the Sea - 23 Fragment - - - 24 Young God of Love - 25 He Lifted - 26 Thk Test - - 28 9419^ 'O I 6 Contents PAOK M. - 29 My Soul 30 To Slander - 32 Mother of Day - - -33 A Song of Empire - 35 A Judge - - - - 38 Thalassa - 39 An Interval - - 40 Home - - - 42 Papilio - - - 44 It May Be - - - 45 For the Funeral of Mr. Justice 46 The Plague- - 48 Youth - - 49 The Autumn Bud - - 50 Siberia- ... - - - 52 Sydney - - 53 Clear Lights Ahead - 54 Contents 7 pa<;b The Shrine of Huitzilopochtli 55 In Camera - - . 57 Eros' Throne - 60 Baby - - - 89 The War - - - 90 Beauty - - 93 Nice: April - - 94 May .... 94 A RECOLLECTION. What though life be short and fleeting, And the goal of death unseen, Raptured moments give us greeting, That which teas will still have been I Cold, hard Nature, where hast dreamed Of that short ecstatic hour ? All is real which once has seemed Granted from thy gorgeous dower. Is it more durable to mould Granitic pillars reaching vast, Than youth's fond dream of Love untold, Which carnal minds say will not last I But yet the rocks cannot remain ; Disintegrated flake by Hake, io A Recollection Time rolls them downward to the plain, And with millennial years they break. For nothing yet by Nature made, And never aught man forged in fire, Could turn away his wrathful blade, Or hath not crumbled on his pyre. The floating fortress, with its sheath Of tempered iron, rises fair; The barnacle eats in beneath, A thousand foes are in the air Against which cannon point in vain, All made by man must see decay, Time's batteries are clouds of rain, His sword the piercing solar ray. His scouts come in the silent moth, His termite sappers gnaw the wood ; He sends his siege-train from the North, His horse charge in the yellow Hood. A Recollection u He hath a weapon for each work, His withered hand is laid on all ; In everything that stands doth lurk The sure inducement of its fall. Bright steel puts on its garb of rust, The ice doth crack the massive wall, The pavement stones are ground to dust, Weeds grow in the baronial hall. Not the close packing of the grain In cubes of matter small or great Is any pledge they shall remain, Or be more real from their great weight ; Than lovers' dreams that take no form, But lighter than the morning mist, Yet out of infinite cause are born, And, though as shadows, still exist. The fairy span of heaven's bow, Valhalla's bridge to Spirit-land, i2 A Recollection Shines while the cloister-arch lies low And rock-piled cities are but sand ; And long as the wild storm-winds blow, And heap the nebulous hills on high, The sevenfold bridge will surely show A way of light in the dark sky. The silver track across the wave, The trembling path by which the slain Were said to pass beyond the grave To that far world beyond the main ; The way of angels paved with light, Over the sleeping sheen of sea, Or lifted from each crested height, The winds rolled from vastidity, Extends away from each dark shore, While Roman roads where armies crossed Are broken up and traced no more, But in the plough-turned earth are lost. A Recollection 13 And still our faithful souls shall keep, Enthroned where Time may never tread, Sweet memories of those who sleep, Of our loved ones and our dead. The mind hath no account of age ; Though youth and beauty must decay, And each year like a fluttered page Of Life's great book is put away. Love is not lifted from the ground, But moves from heaven to the land, By no material circle crowned — He hath no dread of Time's strong hand. i & He lives where burning spirits fly, Beyond the earth, beyond the sky, Beyond the folds of gravity, In that great height where Time would die. H An Eton Boy AN ETON BOY. a widow's only son ; CRUSHED by a train when RETURNING TO SCHOOL. Inscrutable Power, that movest deep in the darkness, why Hast thou done fifteen summers' work so well To break the mould of the spirit ere clay was hard, Drawing the red draught ere the wine was made, And leaving one alone, alone with a bitter cry Lingering on the chill night air after the funeral bell, Vainly, tremulously, doubting Thy grim award That snatched the agile form, untimely in earth laid ? An Eton Boy 15 Oh, and yet perhaps elsewhere was a work begun In a distant star, or a seed in this cold dull world, Which to quicken needed tears for the young life gone, To grow to a look of pity in some bright eyes. For still in a soldiers fall is often a good fight won, And Truth proclaimed with many a fair form hurled Over the brink ; of hope and its fond dreams shorn, Which on earth die, to flash and brighten in the skies. 16 I can Trust thee I CAN TRUST THEE. I can trust thee throughout the common day, Close by my side or absent far away, Meet with a quiet smile Those who would thee revile And so betray. 1 can trust thee where sleep's wide wings extend, When only closing lids my soul defend From chance or charm, And ghostly harm, Or evil trend. I can trust thee when fever's fiery blast Tears through the blood, and, reason overcast, Earth sinks away, Night follows day, And dreams whirl past. I can Trust thee 17 I could trust thee to guide my lonely soul Through gulfs of space where great stars roll To Heaven's bright door, Where we once more Shall be one whole. i8 Does Hope beat high DOES HOPE BEAT HIGH? Does Hope beat high ? Ah no, Only my soul is free, Eaised above storms that blow, In ecstasy. Will there be peace ahead ? I cannot say ; I long for rest men dread, Far, far away. Where the mind, throned supreme, Timid nerves do not tell Of the wrecks on life's stream, But all is well. J. S. — Convict 19 j. s.— CONVICT. AFTER SERVING TWENTY YEARS HE HAD NINE MONTHS OF FREEDOM, WHEN, FOR A MISDEMEANOUR, HIS TICKET OF LEAVE WAS CANCELLED AND HE WAS SENT BACK TO PENAL SERVITUDE. To think : ah ! to look deep down. All before seemed shallow and shelve ; This is the gulf where no feet can tread, And the whirl spins me through and through. Crouch, then, on the cell's hard floor, laid low, And the heavy hours move on and on, And the night seems merged in the polar dark, Yet why, why should he wish for day ? What though I rave, night long, Nought moves and the world is gay, And Heaven is cold and far, No sound shall reach up there. 20 J. S. — Convict Father and mother dead ! Can ye sleep, can ye lie in earth ? Ah, well that the grave protects Keeping warm as doth the snow. God and creator, Thou Who mad'st me what I am, At Thy hand I charge my life, Upon Thee I lay my doom. Forgive ! to Thy will I bow ; My dim eyes cannot see, My brain breaks, I am but dust, Yet end my long, long misery. Dark that gives Dawn 21 DARK THAT GIVES DAWN. Dark that gives dawn ! How bright those eyes do shine, All have withdrawn, Now is the light divine ; For behold ! Time and space Both unfold To thy face. Mirrored in one clear eye All the deep universe ; I can gaze heaven-deep When thou art nigh. 22 Fragments FRAGMENT. Passed but fulfilled ; Not Eternity, Though the ages come as sand Strewn in myriad grains, Can once undo. FRAGMENT. In the lash of the wave I abide ; Peace is thine, where never the tide Can vex nor chafe, nor the sea Break the hallowed hush of eternity. Mark how the Sea 23 MAEK HOW THE SEA. Mark how the billowed surface of the sea Bears up the vastest loads that man can float, And the ice-mountain, with its crystal keel Full half a mile beneath the inky tide. Contemptuous, if they keep the buoyant law, Displacing all those countless thousand tons ; And yet the tireless waves careering round Sport with the sunlight in the wind's caress. So true love lifts the weight of all the world In scorn of gravity and man's restraint, And casting up the many-towered hill He bids it circle as a satellite. 24 Fragment FRAGMENT. I see Life as a cameo, a medallion. The blue of the sky is as enamel, The green of the earth And the red radiance of sunshine Are indeed beautiful setting ; But yet in the centre of all I see two Lovers, And they are the master- work To whom all else is relative. Australian Coast, February, 1899. Young God of Love 25 YOUNG GOD OF LOVE. Young God of Love, Crowned with quadruple Elemental stars, The diamonds Of thy circling coronal. And then five rubies Flashing jacinth light Of passion from thy brow, One for each sense, Blushed against their white purity. 26 He lifted HE LIFTED. The load seemed heavy, Crushing in its weight, Till love came by And lifted it from me. They marvel how My task seems almost done, They saw not him Immortal by my side. Think it not strange, For Nature makes us bear Full fourteen pounds Upon each surface inch. And yet we know The very meanest fly Lifts the thick air With just its gauzy wings. He lifted 27 So when they say The bayonet points are turned Against my heart And men frown fierce, I answer still I love ; that is my strength, And so can rest in peace 'Gainst all the world. 28 The Test THE TEST. The world says, while you merit We are friends ; depart from me such friends, For you are cheap ; I know not what the market rates You at ; but so I'll buy you when I've need of you. For love says we are friends, And we have dwelt by day and so by night in trust, And thou and I will bear together our infirmities ; I do not need at all to justify. Sometimes it might be I am sad and dumb, Feeling thy fault as a red heated brand, But burn, oh flame, yet touch thou not my love, That is enshrined where earthly storms reach not. M. 29 M. I play in vain, thou canst not hear, The vault has closed above thy head, And I alone the world must bear, Thou hast found safety with the dead. Ah, what my unskilled feeble voice, When thou may'st hear the angels sing, The myriad hosts who there rejoice In endless throng, close wing to wing. And yet, my little earth-born note Hath message all alone to thee, To breathe in shadow-land remote, Or sacred prove, even in sanctuary. 5o Mv Soul MY SOUL. On eddies swept along life's stream, Now here, now there, upon its course, Helpless as sleeper in a dream, And rolled along with fearful force. And yet my little will is mine Though I be God's, my very all It sees, although it can't confine The torrent in its fool-tossed fall. My little individual soul, Amidst the elemental strife Doth keep its presence and control Through all the thousand worlds of life. And prides its power, this small thing ! At being there, and feeling so, At just its frightened wondering, Because dead matter does not know. My Soul 31 And blessed and cursed are those who feel Condemned to greatness, thus, to pain, Where Nature makes its mute appeal, And stars give not their light in vain. 32 To Slander TO SLANDER. Vain to pour Corrosive drops of spite Into the golden chalice of my love. Copper acquaintance And tin courtesy Might melt and smoke Before that acrid stream ; But love's bright gold Receives it as the harmless Meadow dew, And shines undimmed. Paris, 1898. Mother of Day 33 MOTHER OF DAY. Mother of Day, Day with the rose-blushed cheek Lord of the world, thy son Sleeps 'neath thy robe. Tired as lad should feel After the strife and joy Of just his being. Thou with thy quiet care Mending, sustaining all, Giving life rest. Placing thy patient hand Over the throbbing nerve Where pain has been. 34 Mother of Day Bathing the tired eyes, Thy comfort giving Through the long hours. All, all thy son can do In his Greek glory clad Died but for thee. Nice, 1898. A Song of Empire 35 A SONG OF EMPIRE. I'll sing a song of Empire, But 'tis a song of woe ; A Devil's gibe that might is right, And that the weak must go. I'll sing a paean of Christian war, But vet a war with God : Of smug pretext for wealth annexed, Where guilty hosts have trod. I'll speak of high rewards to come, But not in Paradise ; For there proclaim with the tongue of Fame, Victims of sacrifice. Behold the tramp of angry men Over the battle-field, An invading band upon others' land, Where weak to strong must yield. 36 A Song of Empire But then was heard the mother's sob, In a voice we did not know, Where putrid smell, like a breath from hell, The torrid air did blow. That cry went up with a wailing sound, A trembling, dreary note, And worse than knell on a hollow bell, Upon the wind it smote. The pale half-moon in the purple sky Looked over the yellow sand, And the same bright star that rose afar On our fair native land. And if the heavenly host thus shine Alike on far and near, We yet may learn that God is stern, And requite th for a tear. Full twenty empires built by crime Have foundered on the deep- A Song of Empire 37 The Sea of Time, calm and sublime, And under it they sleep. Ah, let their phantom shapes stand round, And shadow voices say : . In vain you trust in conquest-lust, Great England, to-day. London, 189S. 38 A Judge A JUDGE. Have, then, thy day ! But Fate shall drag thee down, Ay, to the dust ; swiftly the years pass by, And thou upon them, borne relentlessly. Yes, writ in Heaven, Dated and sealed with that eternal seal That hath its impress in an angel's eyes, The warrant has been sped, appear! appear! And thou quite nude In thy transparent soul, Where garments shrivel in the fearful heat, And not a shadow falls where thought could hide, Shalt see again The helpless thou hast wronged, And the Archangel bending low to catch The faintest whisper of a sob-formed word. Thalassa 39 THALASSA. The sea, the wild bold sea, It has hill and dale, It has heat and cold, It has sand and shale, It has wealth untold So vast and free. The sea, the long-lined sea, It has countless dead, It has sleeping souls In its world-wide bed, Between the poles, That deep dark lee. The sea, the eternal sea, It has tossed the same Where the condors tread Cycles before man came ; It will rise and roll when all are dead, When man has ceased to be. 4o An Interval AN INTERVAL. I saw a white face fringed with soft dark hair, With liquid lights reflected in its eyes, That might have fetched Apollo from the skies, And made Jove's eagle swoop for one so fair. A little span, a handful of short years, Dropped like the sand-grains through Time's hour-glass : I see that face once more, but now, alas, How changed its contour to my mind appears. Oh, mystic Beauty, wherein dost thou lie, Defying touch of sacrilegious hand, That seeks to grasp thee whom none understand, Hid like the soul, from man's mean scrutiny ? An Interval 41 Thy spell doth pale and lift as youth doth go, Like the red sunset off the cold grey range, Leaving us bare and bald, lonely and strange, Wondering what hath gone, and vanished sure and slow. London, 1899. 42 Home HOME. Far may we fly, but yet we wander home To the old spot when the deep night comes on. Like birds that roam Abroad all day while yet the sun is high, But when the rough west wind banks up the clouds, And through the woods doth melancholy sigh, We seek for the old nest, The weather-worn twigs of younger years, There to find rest. In summertide all boughs had friendly shade, And each one gave us welcome where we chose ; But when the dripping rain and keen frost made H ome 43 Dank leaves beneath, above, a bare pole mast. Whose tinted sails flew scattered in the wind, And left us unprotected to its blast, We struggled on for home, to that old tree Which rocked us fledglings in its sturdy arms, That stood the tempests of a century. 44 Papilio PAPILIO. 1 saw him of the wide and gorgeous wings one day, Flying hither and thither in the streaming sunshine, And everything that crawled forthwith con- demned him. What an idle improvident useless life, said a bee, Whose legs were laden with yellow pollen. Giddy fool, said an ant, which was tugging at a large seed, He will never get through the winter, and his species will surely perish. A creature without a coat of mail must Be low and common, said a beetle. And a flesh-maggot poked its nose out of some carrion, observing, That wings were sinful and impure vanity, hateful to the Creator. But the butterfly flew on. Sydney, 1899. It may be 45 IT MAY BE. It may be greater light will come And cast a shadow of the rays That flash from our terrestrial sun, Though bright they look in these dark days. We may a deeper wisdom learn Than that for which our reason groped, And hidden beauty yet discern In things for which we never hoped. A vaster love we yet may trace Than any this poor earth has known, That fills the star-lit dwelling place Where the Life Spirit has its throne. 46 For the Funeral FOR THE FUNERAL OF MR. JUSTICE- The carriage need not wait, my lord, Though you are not inside ; Perhaps upon a downward road You take a longer ride, Or pass upon a lonely barque over the inky tide. But this I know, your body lies Quite still in darkness there, And out of glazed and glassy eyes You steadfastly may stare, While deadly gases swell your shroud and worms await their tare. In state you travelled to Assize, In state you journeyed last, But you can never more arise, Your day is spent and past ; For Death reached forth his icy hand, and He can hold you fast. For the Funeral 47 They took you with imposing pomp and left you in a hole, The black- manecl steeds would wait in vain To carry back your soul, For that is gone beyond recall to Hades' drear domain, Where flame must burn your crimes away and tears remove your stain. 4§ The Plague THE PLAGUE. Grim phantom ! reaching upwards to the clouds, Stalking through continents and scattering With fleshless fingers thine envenomed seed To reap rich harvest of humanity. Behind thee fields are empty, graves are full, There is a crowd in the vast halls of Death, And houses stand as tombstones in the town Where thou hast been the ghostly ground- landlord. Yet I prefer thee to Hypocrisy, Who hath a set smile for all scenes of woe, And from the horrors of an outraged world Looks to the skies and thanks God all is well. London, November, 1899. Youth 49 YOUTH. Short the time he wears his crown ; Count these years upon one hand; Vision then of angel beauty, Fore-type of the Seraph Band. Less before and less hereafter, Yet these precious years of bloom, Once beheld are not forgotten Though life's sun should sink in gloom. D so The Autumn Bud THE AUTUMN BUD. Late in November a succession of mild clays brought forth some tiny tender shoots of green. Ah, do not trust the Tempter who hath warmed This chilly season, stealing some soft Wind That peeped out of the Gulf of Mexico, And in the trackless ocean lost its way To wander to these bleak and boreal shores And sigh its life away in exile tears. Poor Innocents ! 'tis not the Springtide yet, But only fickle foretaste of the time ; The ice and snow, the cutting northern gales, Have still to sweep over the dreary waste, When the weak sun shall seem a carmine ball To which the eyes of the most cowardly May gaze up and not blink. The Autumn Bud 51 So come the world's redeemers out of time ; Then scoffers crown them with a fold of thorns, And hoist them high upon the felon's beam, And cast them broken into nameless pits To which posterity make pilgrimage. But dread not the disasters of a day, The hour-hand is slow ; great changes come In the appointed time which none turn back, Even as the wide stream of the dawn Pours through the whole expanse of bound- less heaven With world-enfolding gentleness. 52 Siberia SIBERIA. Is this the snow-clad region of the North ? With yon bright carpet on the boundless plain, 'Tis warm as hay time in the heat of June, And full of life as Ceylon's purple hills. The radiant glow of the unsetting sun Doth gild the sombre shoreless river's way Which rolls the springs of Asia slowly on In lazy eddies to the Kara Sea. & Above the vapours from the steaming ground Fly wheeling clouds of birds upon the wing. While buzzing insects fill the gentle air, And frogs keep up the concert from the marsh. Sydney 53 SYDNEY. The sunlit city of the hundred bays Autumn approaches, and the swift March wind Is sweeping up the newly-fallen leaves Foretelling of the winter ; yet at home Some shv brown buds are heralding the Spring ! March, 1899. 54 Clear Lights ahead CLEAR LIGHTS AHEAD. Clear lights must burn upon the sea. Look to the mast-head lamp, Look to the green glass and the red, In ironclad or tramp. Clear lights must burn upon the line, The mail comes rushing by With throbbing bolts and rocking wheels As onward it doth fly. Clear eyes must shine beneath the brow, To flash in splendid light, Unclouded by the drunkard's dram Against the world for right. Clear words should fall from him who dares Cast off all cant and creed, And throw conventions to the wind, And fioht in time of need. Shrine of Huitzilopochtli 55 THE SHRINE OF HUITZILOPOCHTLI. The dish of gold hath a deep crimson stain, For in it smoke three freshly bleeding hearts, Which on the convex slab the itztli cut From human victims of the god of war. A temple on that pyramid of pain, Whose inner walls have been a bath of blood, Screens off the grizzly banquet from all eyes Which waits the monster on his jewelled throne. He moves not, only the vicarious flies Swarm round the purple platter of his meal, For they are specks of life from the free air, And spurn the idol to which priests bend low. 56 Shrine of Huitzilopochtli There seems a dignity in these small things Which have not learned to make themselves abased, Or immolate the weakest of their kind Before the painted image of their fears. Man hath a soul, they say, and yet no beast Hath dug down to the depth of his disgrace To offer up the font of human love Before the nightmare spectre of his brain. And think not the rite over because now The carnal ritual is held no more ; For lovers' hearts are offered up to-day, Upon the fane of Superstition laid. In Camera 57 IN CAMERA. Even his victims in their cells have rest.. A few short hours to forget all pain, For dreams are free as the unfettered air ; But he has none, but must awake and watch. Lo ! they rise up, those quite unbidden guests, He had dismissed them down the passage- way, Fainting and swooned in infinite despair, The young, the old, the beardless, and the grey. And now they come again, faces long hid, He had not seen for years, and quite forgot ; But each recalls as silently they stand, In his rich chamber shadow-like and still. 58 In Camera Make fast the doors ! What, are the prison walls Not high enough, that wretches should in- trude To my sick-bed throughout the black of night ? They are a crowd. Oh, let the winter air Blow round my fevered couch, and let those come Whom I have known, who are human forms, Whose eyes have the calm gaze of sanity, Nor look like masks from hell. All silent, the world sleeps, And only I and these phantasmal shades Glare at each other through the endless night ; They peer into my soul through fast-closed lids. He dare not choose but look ; if he but try To sleep visions rise up, iu clouds of crimson hue, In Camera 59 Enveloping his brain as do the nerves That fold it round as with a netted case ; A red and fiery mist, and then it clears, And shows such dreary scenes that he hath caused, Such broken hearts and such forbidding gloom, That he starts up and casts away the clothes Far from his scented pillow, and looks round, To find himself alone ; then with wild hands He wipes away the drops upon his brow And crouches down again. 6o Eros' Throne EROS' THRONE. The Ascent of Life and Love. i. BOYHOOD. See on the hig-hest crest of all Sits the Boyhood Spirit there ; Nude is he whom no clothes cumber. And his crown is golden hair. & v Far below each lesser mountain Holds aloft its gleaming sword, There to guard the bright Love Spirit, And proclaim him as the lord. Strong sons of ancient Mother Earth, Nature's vast sentinels of snow, Touched with magic spell of Beauty, Blush with the red morning glow. Eros' Throne 61 Cold and stern and white they stand, Veterans of the ages gone, Never have they bowed or trembled. Pillars there of Love's great throne. But upon the far day dawning Sombre peaks are shining bright, Sparkling in a thousand crystals At the kissing of the light, Even thus the cold dead world Is quickened by the power of Love, When men cease groping in the dust And find the heart's great treasure -trove. Now the slanting rays of morning Give him greeting from the sky ; Under all the sun's vast vision He is the most lovely. Who shall dare to sit beside him Of the things that move below ? Think you any man or woman Shall approach that throne of snow ? 62 Eros' Throne All the mighty nation leaders From the dim past until now Have gone there for coronation, Prostrate at his feet to bow. Sappho sang in vain to Phaon, Venus mourned her sylvan boy, And another than Briseis Steeped in blood the plains of Troy. What girl shall be his companion, And claim his love as all her own, And scan creation from the height Of Boyhood's solitary throne ? II. C4IRLHOOD. See the light of Even fair, She can still the troubled mind ; She can soothe where daylight dazzles, She console th and is kind. Eros' Throne 63 Yet her soft sheen cannot melt The tundra and the frost-bound wold, She can never liberate What the winter ice doth hold. She cannot lift the hyaline, And raise it pure to the height As we hope lovers' souls shall rise When they take the heaven-flight ; When as drops from briny wave Which sunbeam angels swift convey, Refined and stainless to the clouds They pass upon the spirit way, Leaving, as the sea spray doth, Grosser elements below ; Taken like the humble mist, Far above the hills to 20. er When they leave the plain of tears, And break the bitter film of rime, And see the stars with eyes undimmed, And pass beyond the sway of Time. 64 Eros' Throne She hath glory all her own In the quiet of the skies ; Yet all lio;ht is of the sun ; Without him she could not rise. III. COMPARISON. Like the moon hath Girlhood sway, Sense and feeling quite her own, But the lad hath deeper measure, Even Eros on his throne. Vain to deck thee with his crown, It would only hurt thy brow ; That is greatness which is spirit, Man-made honours are but show. Thou canst never wield his thunder, Pallas may not strive with Jove ; When thou knowest not his planning, AVilt thou claim an equal's love ? Eros' Throne 65 Canst thou be to him a comrade With that fearful gulf between ? Hard it is to know a brother, Line and curve of equal mien. Difficult to measure feeliim Where the structure seems the same ; Say, canst thou with him find juncture, Built each in such diverse frame ? Even should you be companions, Yet the fatal rift is there ; Lives and tastes so vast asunder, What can you in common share ? Wouldst thou complement each nature, And together form one whole ; But comradeship is fellow-feeling, Mind to mind and soul to soul ! 66 Eros' Throne IV. UNITY. Once there was a time on earth, Ere the fiercer strife began, When each life more nearly perfect Kested on a simpler plan ; With all attributes completed, Though they did not carry far, Male and female were one being Till the raging; nature-war Made schism of the balanced state, And split the dual impulse twain, And sacrificed the whole, that part Might all encompass, and remain. Exaggerated in its place, But never restful, groping back, To older paths perhaps more distant Than this little earthly track. Yes; upon this world's bed of pain We toss and turn to find some ease, Eros' Throne 67 Through strange contortions age by age ; But never long can we appease The deep unrest that in us dwells, The breaking of the soul's strong waves Upon the iron shore of Fact, Where most Ideals have their graves. And yet they rise, as doth the spray, In white-robed effort far above The sullen rocks that break the crest And try to whelm our dreams of love. V. DIVERGENCE. Strange that tale of sex division Borne down the age-flow tide, Nothing bizarre and capricious But by Nature has been tried ; With our furred and feathered kindred, With the mute and moveless plants, 6S Eros' Throne With the worldly-minded hive bees And the soldier-legioned ants. With the swift accipitres, With the perilous spider-love, With the million-bearing herring And the homely mated dove. Far down the ladder-stage of life The male and female we can trace, Quite different or both in one, All pressing on the grim world race. And sometimes thou the stronger art, And sometimes thou hast reigned as queen, And sometimes direful thine embrace, And sometimes thou hast sexless been. But mostly thou hast formed the slave, And paid thine all for that great pearl Which gives on earth eternal life, And points the king-maker, a girl. Eros' Throne 69 VI. UNCONSCIOUSNESS. All lifeless things must ever move Obedient to external law, Through which the strata bear the load Of ocean on the old earth's floor. Each grain is as an envelope, And holds a message none can read, A mandate buried in the ground, Which saith, arise, unto the seed. The tiny elemental cells Reverse the way our fractions run ; We multiply when we divide, But they divide, and it is done ! Fast rooted in the tide-swept rock, Where strong and turbulent currents fight, The actinia bends its wavy arms, And poisoned darts round passing mite. 70 Eros' Throne All these, as though they walked in sleep, Perform their task exceeding well ; Impelled by some momentous force, Yet what they do they cannot tell. VII. SUBCONSCIOUSNESS. But later life directs its steps At function's calling, and the need Works not by Matter's law direct, But first up to the brain must plead. So then each isolated part Demands its own especial end, And if neglected doth complain, And all the other members rend. There is a balance in each frame Which, once disordered, must upset The working; of the whole machine, And grievous ills doth soon beget. Eros' Throne 71 For every organ represents Long ages of persistent play, And if it be but put aside Will wither and so die away. The Fakir shows a shrivelled arm, The whale and seal their altered limbs ; Change or an end disuse must mean, For all that walks and all that swims. There is no usury in Nature's plan, For faculties will soon decay, And he that puts his treasure by Shall find it surely melt away. VIII. CONSCIOUSNESS. Five guardian gifts watched over life, Each one a faculty, a sense Slowly they had evolved on earth In sequences through time immense. 72 Eros' Throne And then a sixth, product of all, The Ego, came to be the guide, That every part should hold its way And yet concord within abide. Who saw when first appeared desire, In that vast time before a bone Of man was laid in river drift Of silted sand that now is stone ? What simple embryonic nerve Gave faintly the first feeble thrill To mantle rim or segment edge, And in that act conveyed, ' I will' ? Great ancestor of kings and lords, And all the rulers of the world, Yet pondering that mystic ' Wish,' Out of the little disc unfurled ! Thy home I fancy was the deep, The changeless everlasting sea, But what built up thy tiny Self Thou know'st as much as we. Eros' Throne 7$ IX. WILL. Then Nature turned each living thins:, As mothers do the growing; babe, To walk alone as best it could, But held no loving hand to save. Each to itself shall be a law Apart the whole external plan, Led by the prompting of desire To live each one as best it can. The sole elects that both its eyes Should look right upward evermore, Yet one was set on either side When first it skimmed the flat sea floor ! The hermit crab hath seized a shell That nature never made for him, Oh mystery ! by what strange chance Took he that almost human whim ? 74 Eros' Throne The cuckoo steals the strange bird's nest, Some say because in ancient time His kind were hunted from their homes And learned to live, like men, by crime. x. ELECTION. No praise or blame from Nature comes, She knows no good and fears no ill, And puts but one remorseless test, Can Life her hard conditions fill \ If not the stern examiner Closes the book, blots out the name ; Accepts no plea and hears no cry, Judging both low and high the same. The moth around the candle light In giddy shortening circles flies, For love of beauty or for greed, Enough, he burns his wings, and dies. Eros' Throne 75 The mammoth raised his might}' bulk Upon the boundless northern plains, Now in his cerement of thick ice In death he stands, not one remains. Was it some sharp-toothed beast of prey Or a minute but deadly thing, Was it the inrush of the deep That ended his wide wandering; ? We only know that he was weighed By that grim Power which is blind, And in his pride was wanting found, Then overthrown with his kind ! XI. PRESERVATION. For an unreckoned span of time, While the stone trees with white buds grew, And the blue mirror of the globe Shifted its setting, and went through 76 Eros' Throne Fresh shapes and shrinkage, while the land Rose up and fell, as if Earth slept, Breathing; in acre-long; intervals Like an old mother who hath wept ; Impulse was followed to its goal, Pleasure Life sought, and fled from pain ; Necessity alone set bounds, No inward forces said, refrain. The senses had their wildest way, There was no bridle and no spur ; For each thing lived in hardihood, Nor stopped to think if it could err. And yet Life lasted, through that law By which Desire makes for good ; Thus all the little wayward things Have followed instinct, and withstood The cycle storms that come and go, Famine and flood, and earthquake shock, From heaps of dead the living rise, And Earth sustains her troubled flock. Eros' Throne 77 XII. CONTINUITY. Life's dwelling house ! behold it well, The great aorta's branching stem, The well-knit scaffolding of bones, The thread-like nerves that clino- round them. But what know we of Life itself ? We trace it upwards from the earth, Out of the dead and formless mass From which it seems to have its birth. We follow it right on and on, As the dark ages forward roll, Until at last it knows itself, And looks around in fear, a Soul. Ah ! few indeed to this attain, A gift too great for Creed to give ; All things may see the world to come, All things in earth and air may live. 78 Eros' Throne And this much hope whole millions have If Life be constant they shall rise, But if it prove collected Force, Then Death will also close their eyes. And Life shall flicker back again Into the darkness whence it came ; Not lost, but changed and held in store, With the eternal cosmos flame. But yet the conscious troubled Soul Hath felt the quiver of the stars, And Pity's power through them all, Its eyes have seen beyond earth's bars ! XIII. DEGREE. The world's great mystery is Life ; What are its many gifts and grades ? Are they degrees of the same thing, Which differ only in their shades ? Eros' Throne 79 The spectra of the great birth -ray, From some far-off celestial sun, Of which the glowing passion-reel And violet hues of death are one. Or do the living things indeed Stand in their essence quite apart, Soul severed from vitality, And cardiac muscle from the heart \ And Life's great mystery is Love ; They dwell together in degree, From protozoic reflex move Up to a great soul's ecstasy. For if Life differs in its kind, Even as far is Love away From much that bears its hoty name Yet is but wanton function-play. And even as the human mind Excels some creeping creature's span, So does the miracle of Love Surpass the lesser life, in man. 8o Eros' Throne XIV. USE. The flowers kiss the honey bees Because they bring them pollen gold ; And for no higher motive they The buzzing messengers enfold. Strange how these in rich attire Are seeking only after gain ; But they have done no wrong to Love, And on their petals is no stain. For truly they dissemble not, Since no emotion have they known ; To grow and spread is all their power, And bow before each soft wind blown. XV. FUNCTION. Increase is a result of love, Never its aim, for lesser life Eros' Throne Si Hath no ideas beyond the day, And single-minded takes the strife. Enforced on all, but unto it Each moment is the thing supreme, As though no past or future stood A record, and a fancy-dream. All creatures seek but their desire, In truth they fight for nothing less ; For all they know and all they care The world might become wilderness. Without a chirp amidst the trees, Or any young ones at their play, More silent than the dark coal woods With them might end life's little day. But by a fixed and constant law Their inclinations fill the land With young, which in their turn obey Functions they nowise understand. S2 Eros' Throne XVI. INTELLIGENCE. Thus with the lesser life of earth, And to the meaner types of men, Love is with them but appetite, It hath no higher seat ; but when The burning Soul at last appears To look on beauty face to face, Love shines a lonely star within, And takes its spirit dwelling place. And as the body and the life May rise transfigured from the grave, So love, who once the servant seemed, Comes to be served and yet to save. To raise our thoughts above the bonds In which we all must dwell and die, Lest we confound the means of life With all the heart's hushed mystery. Eros' Throne 83 Lest the white arc-lamps seem the stars And, through the mighty city's din, We measure heaven by its space Not by the Spirit it is in. XVII. EMOTION. What miracles about us lie ! The simplest feeling far transcends All that the mioht of human thought Can weigh, and know it comprehends. Man can but say the world was made By mind or matter, acting through The faintly-glimmering mist of time, Whose drops were worlds that onward flew, From dark to dark, over the gulf, Of which we see not either end, Nor height nor depth, nor anything, And only wonder where they trend. 84 Eros' Throne Of the profound emotion-springs Within whose depth the soul is set We have no measure or control, No sounding hath been taken yet. And never will be, for the lines Our little brains like spiders spin But dangle as medusa threads Down the dark ocean they are in. And do not fathom, only grope For crumbs of knowledge passing by In their own stratum of the sea, And aught beyond they vainly try. Beneath, the black of the abyss, Above, the hollow of the sky, And but the thin natation plane Extends for all their scrutiny. No eyes can see until the rays, Those weightless wands of ether-gold, Descend to touch them from the sun, When to their spell all things unfold. Eros' Throne 85 Which always were, but not for us, Until the far vibrations came And stirred the deep-set rods and cones, So that the mind perceived their flame. So is the understanding dark Until love deigns to let it know The things that reason cannot grasp, Toiling like some poor worm below. Delving in chthonic matter down, With no inspired gaze to see Beyond the particles of earth, Into the Cosmos mystery. XVI II. BEAUTY. Now Life and Love rise slowly up To the white steps of Eros' throne, Amidst the dazzle of the snow Where, rainbow-rimmed, he sits alone. 86 Eros' Throne Spirit of Beauty, by whose power Our hearts are moved to wordless prayer. When in our inthralled wonderment We look upon thy face so fair. Like Life, thou reignest, or fly'st hence, We know thee, but not what thou art ; Beyond all thought's analysis, A whole that hath not any part. For though we count the items all, And tables of thy structure take, They leave no likelihood of thee, We cannot love them for thy sake. Numerals, when they stand alone, Are common and commercial things Until we place them meaningly, And in ourselves impart them wings, By which those little single signs Place mile-stones in the milky way, And trace the comet in its curve, And time the messengers of Day. Eros' Throne 87 Eros, thy vision is to those Whom thou dost love, who are of thee ; The rest are but earth-hewn things, Time-carven by Necessity. XIX. UNIVERSAL. Spirit of Boyhood, all the world Is spread beneath thy godlike brow, But the deep question ever comes : Incarnate Beauty, what art thou 1 What is the meaning of thy shape ? What message clad in line and curve ? Beauty is substance having soul Which all the outward symbols serve. Art thou an attribute in God ? We find thy tracing everywhere ; Not ours to question why it comes — Enough for us that it is there. 88 Eros' Throne For as the earth-globe spins in space, Resting on nothing, so man's mind Floats in the present, to all else Is his poor understanding blind. Beauty and Truth perhaps are one With Pity, all expressed by Love ; Our gods are but projected selves ; What know we of the worlds above ? But every night we see them shine, And the star tide-stream sweep the sky ; At death our erring earth-bound souls Float up to meet Infinity. And then the fallen scattered beams Of Light, imprisoned in each one, After their wanderings return, Recalled into the central Sun. Baby 89 BABY. Drifting clouds on showery day, Rain and sunshine all in one : So her baby face doth play, With laughter ere her tears are done. But quite real is thy little grief, And yet sincere thy happy smile ; Bitter tears are sometimes brief, Swiftly time can reconcile. London, 1900. 9o The War THE WAR. Both have transgressed, And now they call on Heaven, With folded hand That raised the red-stained thongs. i & Their country, indeed ! By what way won ? By rifle rights And leaden title deeds ! The ' right ' that comes from force Rests with the strong, Capacity its limit, Death its law. They builded chapels Upon stolen ground, And drove to worship there With harnessed men. The War 91 The black slaves have no voice, The conquerors no ears ; The earth re-echoes With the thundered lies. But not the heaven ; When oppressors pray, The sky becomes A hard blue dome of steel — A solid arch from which The broken words Like meteor-dust Fall back upon the ground. There is no process By which foreign crime Is cleansed by sun or sea For homely weal. And through no pleadings Will the Lord of Life Allow the lash Or sanction servitude. 92 The War Nations may raise All kinds of ritual, Whole kingdoms consecrate With empty breath, And thousand-voiced Unite in one proud prayer ; But they appeal unto the fiend of war And he is come. February, 1900. Beauty 93 BEAUTY. When we examine thou art fled, Vanished like the shower-bow, We saw its bend on yonder hedge, And ran to capture it ; but no ! Only the dull drops of rain Pattered from a streak of grey, And the chromatic water-beams Had melted utterly away. 94 Nice : Our old Home NICE: OUR OLD HOME ON THE HILL. April. Violet hills and sapphire sea, Nature in its dress of green ; Plane trees spreading shadily From the sun's bright oversheen. Banksia roses climbing soon In the soft air sweetly grow, Arching in a white festoon Like a wreath of summer snow. Crickets from deep-hidden holes Loudly trill at close of day, And those noisy little souls Foretell the ooroeous month of Mav. May. Blushing cherries now are due, Hidden in their leafy screen ; Nice : Our old Home 95 Anemones of every line In the tangled grass are seen. Our deep valley is a wood Where the snakes lie in the sun ; In unmolested hardihood Greedy rats through canebrake run. In the silence of the night Stand the sombre cypress trees ; Fireflies are moving bright, Fairy sparks and fantasies ! UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles U }0 ) VTnis book is DUE on the last date stamped below. « X% J\J\-i 6^986 JAN 2 1 ._ „ r „ 2003 IUE 2 WKS FROM DATE RECEIVED UCLA YRL/ILL Form L9-32m-8,'58(5876s4)444 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY ^EASE AA 000 380 863 1 MWRaryq §? **wkh5i& Univ **ity Research V A ))