953 ? ^ UC-NRLF B ^ bm 757 Poems Kenry Barrett Hinckley Lorthampton, 1S09 . "•I give ihe/e Books for the foicnding of a CotUge in this Colonf u ' YALE «¥]MH¥IEKSIIir¥' POEMS BY HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS THE NONOTUCK PRESS 1909 POEMS BY HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY u NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS THE NONOTUCK PRESS 1909 f J^ Copyright, 1909, by Henry Barrett Hinckley CONTENTS. PAOE Caesar's Wife 5 Savonarola 27 Oberon and Titania 31 Vesper 36 Her Face 37 Madeline Kneeling 38 The Last Rose .39 CAESAR'S WIFE. Dramatis Personae. LUCIUS CORNELIUS SULLA, dictator. LUCIUS LiciNius MURENA, his lieutenant. CHRYSOGONUS, his freedman. CAius JULIUS CAESAR, a young Roman. LUCIUS DIDIUS, TITUS, \ friends of Caesar. PUBLIUS, ARCHIAS, 1 , Y slaves. DAVOS, J Other slaves. Twenty-four lictors. CAESAR'S WIFE. Scene. — Rome. The Dining Hall in the Housv of Caesar. Among the properties an Image of Marius. Caesar, Didius, Titus and Puhlius drinking and throwing dice. TITUS. Our Lucius throws the very dice of Jove: Always the triple six! Good Didius, Upon what altar with what sacrifice Hast thou invoked Dame Fortune? DIDIUS. Sesterces Are light to win and lighter far to lose. Do you throw, Publius? PUBLIUS. Nay, I do not find This losing light. CAESAR. Bring Publius a cup New-wreath'd with roses of Falernian; For wine is blood of courage in the heart, Making men kings, and kings philosophers. What were you telling, Lucius? Caesar's Wife. DIDIUS. This Antistia Was daughter to Antistius, the pretor That tried the cause; and fashion doth report No youth in Rome more fair than Cnaeus Pompey. The daughter whisper'd in her father's ear: And, from that time, no word of peculation. Pompey was clear'd where love was evidence. TITUS. Was Pompey honest, think you? DIDIUS. Ev'n as much As honesty lies in the grace of judges. PUBLIUS. If ever I shall dip my hands in bribes I pray that some Antistius be pretor; And may a lovely daughter at his side Sit like presiding Justice! TITUS. Cnaeus Pompey Did put aside the lovely form of Justice When Sulla spoke. The daughter he divorced, The father slighted. Caius, was it brave? Would you as Pompey? Caesar's Wife. CAESAR. Nay, let Pompey be. Know you a man in Rome that would resist Under like circumstance the word of Sulla? DIDIUS. They say this Sulla by his own decree Hath made himself the chosen favorite Of your Aeneas' mother. Heaven obeys The nod of Rome's dictator, and your sires, Good Caius, all are subject to his will. CAESAR. I prithee, Lucius Didius, mock me not. Sulla is subject to his own heart's mirth, And if the gods forbear shall Caesar chide? DIDIUS. Our Caius will not be as common gods. He parries with a jest a giant's arm, The hundred-handed Sulla climbing heaven. TITUS. And look, the very dice applaud the jest! PUBLIUS. No more for me! Good Caius, these are yours, And truly I would coin my heart to lose To one that so doth value coin of love. Caesar's Wife. CAESAR. No, keep the stakes. If you are Caesar's friend You win by losing to him. Life is brief, From womb to tomb a momentary space, Nor hath man greater honor in his hour Than to have profited to all his friends. TITUS. Most noble Caius! [Knocking heard.l CAESAR. Ha! what noise was that? [Loud and long knocking.'] Inexorable haste to beat the doors That evermore are open! Archias, Thine ofRce is nomenclator. Attend! What hubbub is this? Could a lictor's ax More insolently hew its tyrannous way Into our sacred home of privacy? TITUS. Caius Caesar, thou hast Sulla's soul! Beware thou mock not at authority, For thou shalt sooner tinge thy toga's edge In deep and inmost purple of thy heart Than stand before his frown who frowneth death. [Enter chrysogonus.] Caesar's Wife. CAESAR. Peace to foreboding ! Here 's his messenger. What is 't, Chrysogonus, that brings you hither ? We do not use to have authority Beating our doors with loud oppression. Speak! CHRYSOGONUS. I come to speak to Caius Julius Caesar. Sulla hath markt you, honor'd you, and lov'd. He bids you therefore speedily renounce Alliance with his foes. You have to wife The daughter of Cornelius Cinna. Her He bids you instantly to set aside. He bids you hold yourself more dearly far Than question the authority of Rome. His hands are full of honor and of death: Your destiny now lies upon your tongue. CAESAR. How terrible is Sulla in his love! So Jupiter appear'd to Semele, In might of fire and thunder. Quickly, sir, Go tell your general, the great dictator, We Julians are descended of the gods. And at our hearths we have already love And highest honor. Bid him keep his gifts For those more needy. I will keep my wife. TITUS. Thou art a Roman seeking thine own death. Speak mildly, Caius. Caesar's Wife. CAESAR. Nay, I cannot change. The halting steward of the jeering gods Was not so lame but that he could avenge The insolence of Mars that took his wife. CHRYSOGONUS. How glibly doth the young man talk of gods! PUBLIUS. Caius, thou art young; reject not life! CHRYSOGONUS. 1 will speak mildly, for he bade me so. Bethink you, bind yourself to Sulla's love: The Senate rules, and consulship and triumph, Life and the greatness that a Roman loves Now hang by your obedience. If he come, The great dictator's self that sent me hither, I will not breathe of what may be your fate. CAESAR. Why, now you have a true patrician's accent That will not wound the softness of the ear With words of evil. Friend, return to Sulla. Tell him with omens gentle as his own I keep my wife, Cornelia, being true, Faithful above suspicion, loving, gentle. The daughter of Cornelius Cinna, once the friend 10 Caesar's Wife. Of Caius Marius that my uncle was And the deliverer of ancient Rome. CHRYSOGONUS. Your eloquence hath m.arr'd you, mocking me! CAESAR. I reverence my name, not mocking you. CHRYSOGONUS. I say you mock me ! You have heard. — Obey ! CAESAR. I have obey'd the spirit of my sires. CHRYSOGONUS. Insolent stripling, you shall join them straight! lExit.] PUBLIUS. Caius, quickly call him back, repent! CAESAR. Never ! PUBLIUS. Nay, thou shalt die unless thou do. 11 Caesar's Wife. DIDIUS. Unless thou yield I cannot be thy friend. Thou soar'st aloft into the very sun On wings of Icarus. CAESAR. It is not long That I, perchance, shall trouble you with friend- ship. PUBLIUS. Caius, speak not so. We love thee all, And earnestly we bid thee love thy life And put aside the passion of thy youth, Thy wife Cornelia. Love, they say, doth pass. But life remaineth sweet unto the end. Caius, hear me. Whither shall I turn If thou shalt die ? CAESAR. The heart of Caius Caesar Is purple-bordered like the curule robe. Nor can forget its office to be high. Shall I desert the meanest of my friends To be a bruited coward? Sulla rules. Shedding the blood of Romans in our streets; He dictates in our Senate, is a god In all our temples, calls himself the friend Of Venus and of Fortune. Be it sol 12 Caesar's Wife. Yet that one soul of which I am the lord I will keep lordly, and within my home I stoop for naught save courtesy or law. PUBLIUS. Then, Caius, let me with thee die, for thou Art more than Sulla, tho he greatly nod The brow of Jupiter. TITUS. Nay, 'tis a tyrant! A red-comb'd rooster strutting in our yard! A Tarquin with our dames, an old Etruscan! CAESAR. He Is a soldier, and Rome's enemies, Jugurtha and the Pontic Mithridates, The Samnite and the Tuscan, fled from him, And Rome was sav'd in hollow of his hand. {Turns to the Image of Marius.'] Marius, Marius ! thou didst face the Gaul O'erswarming Italy; thou didst defeat The Cimbrian and the savage of the Rhine. Rome breathes through thee, and wreathed art thou gone Where hangs the grandeur of the calm of death. [To the company.l 1 will go seek the lady. Good my friends, Be merry while you may, for life is life, And in my will you are remember'd all. 13 Caesar's Wife. ALL. Most noble Caesar ! PUBLIUS. We will never leave thee! CAESAR. Softly, my friends; the end of life is death. Let death be sudden and ourselves prepar'd. I will go seek Cornelia, whom, perchance, I shall not see hereafter. Bide you here. Davos, bring wine. If the dictator comes Tell him I will return. A kind farewell! [Exif] TITUS. This Caesar if he lives will be more great Than Lucius Sulla. PUBLIUS. Come all friends to aid. He must not die that thus hath spoken freedom. DIDIUS. Nay, save him if you can. Obedience Is light of price. Why should he love his wife? 14 Caesar's Wife. TITUS. It is the spirit of old Sextus Tarquin To meddle with our homes. If such shall rule We shall have dancing satyrs at our hearths For old penates. PUBLIUS. ye sacred hills! DIDIUS. Nay, listen me, for you are children both. Do you suppose this trouble on this house Is but a private grief of love and passion? It is a matter gravely politic. For Caesar's wife was Cinna's child. The foes Of our dictator muster round the names Of Marius and Cinna. Sulla seeks To draw our Caesar to the Senate's part Forsaking Cinna's. 'T is a deed of love In him who reaps a harvest by each death To offer Caesar life on light condition. Let him forsake this woman for another. He shall have love anon, for he has youth; And peace, too, shall he have and Sulla's favor. Let men that love their lives be wise! TITUS. cease ! I never knew thee for a friend of tyrants. 15 Caesar's Wife. PUBLIUS. thou hast spoken treason of thy friend! TITUS. Let them submit that will; yet Vesta's fire, The symbol and the common hearth of Rome, Hath not more sacred ashes than the hearts That burn for ancient freedom. In our homes There is an unquencht spark. Caius Caesar, All gods I do invoke to give thee speed! And if thou die ascend thou to the gods Whose love hath widen'd Rome, and in their ears Tell them an Eastern conqueror hath won The altars that they lov'd ! DIDIUS. Is Caius Caesar A god already that thou call'st him thus? Mark me, I spoke to you as one should speak That wisely loves a friend that is a man Subject to Fortune. 'T is a throw of dice Which Roman rules. If Caius love his life He yet may stand more high than Lucius Sulla. An ancient house is his, the people's love. Which were not Sulla's. Let him love his life. TITUS. Is it a throw of dice who rules in Rome? Then let me pour this wine and greatly pray. [Pours a libation.'] IG Caesar's Wife. Fortune, be not all of Sulla's faction! Smile thou on Caesar, too, for he is young, Great in his spirit, mightily belov'd! [Takes a dice-box.] Now will I throw, abiding thy decision. Great arbiter ev'n of the fates of gods! If it be high that you shall see me throw. Then be thou high, our Julius, and guard In thy great spirit liberty and hearths, And wives and images of sires and lares. The inmost chamber of the heart of Rome. [Throws the dice. Before he uncovers a loud noise is heard. He starts back. Enter lictors folloiv'd by SULLA, MU- RENA and CHRYSOGONUS.] SULLA. It is the spirit of old Marius Inciting to rebellion. In the field He was a worthy soldier ; but at home. Seeking to rule and lord it o'er the state And win the hearts of true-discerning Romans — Bethink you, sirs, a graceless Polypheme Courting the sea-nymph Popularity; An old, unwieldly giant, with his foot Broad and unwitting set on ancient rights. CHRYSOGONUS. My lord, he was to me most insolent. Rebellious in his answer, tho I was Your Excellency's messenger. I pray you Avenge yourself! 17 Caesar's Wife. SULLA. Peace, good Chrysogonus! This is the Julian mansion. Where is he? DIDIUS. My lord dictator, he was even now In counsel with us, and he bade us say That if you came he would return anon. SULLA. I did not think to find you, Lucius Didius, In counsel with rebellion. Get you hence! Avoid this house forever — do you hear? I once had thought you friendly to the state. Nay, not a word — obey! [Exit DIDIUS.] A soldier, sirs, Must do the bidding of the general. CHRYSOGONUS. Thou art a trumpet summoning old Rome To thine unconquer'd banner. Let them die That will not feel the stir of loyal blood When thou dost sound the order ! SULLA. Softly, sir. Here comes our Caesar; youthful is his look, Slender and graceful as the Syrian god Whom maidens mourn. [Enter caesar.] 18 Caesar's Wife. Caesar, I could yield Ev'n to that love thy presence bears with thee. Too delicate thou art for war's alarms; Thy life is peace; I bid thee seek thine ease. CAESAR. My lord, 't is said yourself were f ram'd for peace : Letters you lov'd and high philosophy, The cup of wine, the deeper cup of love. SULLA. 'T is true, 't is true ! It is most aptly true ! Myself was as yourself, young, delicate, Yet have I beaten enemies of Rome Wherever I have met them on the field. All Greece and Thrace and Macedonia Lay cow'd before the arms of Mithridates; Who sow'd rebellion in the allied hearts Of Samnite and Etruscan, till our state Was tempest-shaken with the pulse of war. Sedition burn'd like fever in our streets, The arteries of this city. On the sea Swarm'd gadfly pirates in a cloud to sting The peace of ev'ry landsman. Forth I went, Leaving my private foes to burn my home, Butcher my wife and children, while I fought The common enemy, the Pontic king. Hard fought I on each field, nor had I fleet To aid my sieges nor provision me. Upon Beotia's plain by Cephisus Hard were we prest, my best of soldiers waver'd. 19 Caesar's Wife. Then threw I off my helm, and swiftly rode In furious galop through the wavering ranks Where darts flew thick, and evermore I cried : "Soldiers, let it be said if on this day. You ever did forsake your general!" Then shame brought cheer and courage to their hearts. They charg'd, we won. Yet ev'ry week there came From Rome some messenger denouncing me, Calling me outlaw, traitor, bidding me Resign command to carping demagogs. Whom, loving Rome, I did ignore, and past From Greece to Asia, pinning Mithridates Within his proper fold. And I aveng'd The Romans he had massacred, regain'd The Asian revenues he stript us of; And on Euphrates' banks I first receiv'd Of Roman generals Parthian embassies. CAESAR. Our children's children, sir, when they shall read Of these your actions all shall call you great. If ever I do deeds as great as yours I shall, like you, write commentaries of them. For I am young, unknown nor lauded high. Yet would I fight Rome's battles ev'n as you. SULLA. 'T is courteously said, you are patrician, The order that I seek to found anew, Beating as low as hell and Tartarus 20 Caesar's Wife. The traitors and the rabble that withstand. Shall I that sav'd this Rome from Samnite arms In desperate struggle at the Colline Gate, What time all broken with a weary march From night till morning in the terrible dark We battled blindly — I that sav'd this state, Which else had perisht utterly from earth, Betray the confidence of Roman gods By yielding Rome to lawless mobbery? You are patrician; let your fathers' blood Speak in your deeds! I bid you purge yourself, Ev'n to the extreme of purging, from the stain Whereto you are allied. Cornelius Cinna, The enemy of ev'ry optimate, Was father to your wife. Set her aside. CAESAR. Never, my lord. SULLA. You do withstand me, sir? CAESAR. I stand upon the honor of my house. Longer I will not choose to wear my life Than as a seemly garment. While I live I will not speak assent to tyranny. SULLA. Most insolent! You do forget that I Am the dictator, by the Senate's vote 21 Caesar's Wife. Created as an instrument of death To ev'ry demagog and ev'ry traitor, CAESAR. Call me then traitor when I have betray'd The name of Caesar ! In the streets, my lord, Your rule is absolute. The Senate's vote Robes you with office in each public place. Lictors attend you, and of life and death The chance of war hath made you arbiter To ev'ry Roman. But within this house, And for what touches me as near as wife, I will be Caius Caesar till I die. It is not the tradition of our house That Julians bow save unto Roman law. You tread on Rome as on a subject city When, vaunting high authority, you come To annul my rights as citizen of Rome. SULLA. Young man, I think you have not understood: My name is Lucius Sulla. In my hand I hold law, life, and liberty and death. Obey me: speedily you shall be great. Resist me: none shall ever mark your tomb Nor say: "Who was he?" On this little choice Is hung your destiny. Forsake your wife And love another. Did not I the same? You shall command an army and I read Of triumph in your brow. Be obstinate: I will not breathe that omen on your house To tell you what shall happen. 22 Caesar's Wife. CAESAR. I have said What is to say. I shall retain my wife. Tho ev'ry Roman throughout Italy Stood lictor to you with a lictor's sheaf, And ev'ry lictor's ax were red with blood, I would not yield. Is honor less than life? SULLA. This is the veriest Marius of them all! Too many of thy like do strut in Rome Courting the voice of brawling demagogs. Around this man what rabble will arise! Our Cimbrians will rule us, and belike We favor'd of the gods shall feel the lash, The chains and bitterness of slavery! [To the lictors.] Seize him, I say; lead him to instant death! MURENA. My lord, forbear! SULLA. Nay, not a word! MURENA. The state Shall profit by his youth. 23 Caesar's Wife. SULLA. Nay, by his death! MURENA. He is the stuff that ancient Romans were What time our fathers fought with Hannibal. SULLA. Let him be brave to other men than me! MURENA. Do me this grace, my lord, to spare his life, I will be surety for his good behavior. We have proscrib'd already of the Caesars His grandsire and his uncle. Banish him. He shall learn wisdom in a foreign land And hunger for the Rome where he hath spurn'd The fortune of your favor. Good my lord. If ever I have follow'd you on field, Spare this young man, whom sure you cannot fear. Nay, for you promist me to grant this day A boon when I should ask it. Spare his life. SULLA. I never lost a battle until now. Surely I see dominion in his eye That so withstands me. 24 Caesar's Wife. MURENA. Yet if he shall rule He cannot change his high patricianhood, And therefore can the Senate little suffer. He shall learn wisdom when he gathers years And Rome shall need his spirit when we are gone. SULLA. Ay, there 's a point ! Young man, I spare your life; I leave to you this woman whom you prize. Yet little shall you profit by your pride: I confiscate her dower, her father's fortune; I interdict you, too, from fire and water. If three weeks hence you be in Italy Your life is forfeited. Whom I shall send Shall reason with the dagger, which no heart Is proof against. Away, my friends. Surely we have affairs of greater moment Than little Caesar's, whose obscurity Shall be his safety. Lictors, right face, march! Come, good Murena and Chrysogonus! [Exeunt sulla, murena, chrysogonus and lictors. publius comes forward and uncovers the dice."] publius. Titus, look ! It is the triple six. The gods were with us tho they thunder'd not Save in the voice of Sulla. 25 Caesar's Wife. TITUS. Marius So aw'd the slave his executioner That he in panic from his office turn'd. But thou, our Caesar, with thy conquering eye Hast overaw'd the master in whose sight All men are slaves. CAESAR. Jupiter most high, Thou stayer of the enemies of Rome! Surely I dream'd that thou didst wreathe my head. Thine eagle flew above me on the right. Good friends, I leave you. To depart in haste Must be mine utmost office. Fare you well. For to be free is still to be a mark For Sulla's anger. Love me being gone. And when I come again my strength shall shield you. [Exeunt} 26 SAVONAROLA. Ferrara, 1474. How sweet my lute-string murmurs, throbbing low With subtle pleasure hid in subtle pain ! And, half, the bright eye moistens, half, a smile Breaks round the mouth, so wondrous 't is to hear. Mother, methinks my lute's low notes are lives, Vibrant and sweetly transient from the sense To harmonies of silence. This my life Is writ as theirs ; and it is even now I feel a sad crescendo of the soul. ''Renounce, renounce, forevermore renounce!" It is my heart's sad burden; yet I know I have not lov'd the glory of this world. I have not in the insolence of mind Forgotten God, nor in a learned pride Thrown sanctity to idols, base-born gods That bow'd the knee of unillumin'd Greece. That marble world, the ghost of buri'd days, Speaks to me of the earth, whereto it sank Before the voice of Him who spake of heaven. Yea, from a child methinks my heart hath borne Some sweetness of the radiance of Christ. 'T is long ago, yet still the memory lives How as a boy I stood beside the Po And saw Duke Borso's purple galley move. With streamers flaunting and with instruments, Pipes, drums and trumpets, and fair singing boys, 27 Savonarola. Upstream toward Mantua, whence Pope Pius came, In a like floating splendor, gay with song. Then, prow to prow, the floating galleys came Mid craft innumerable down the stream And measur'd dip of silver-flashing oars. Dost thou remember how on either bank Rose statues of the pagan deities? And I with other boys stood garlanded. Pelting the stream with flow'rs, and cried aloud: "Long live the Pope !" and "Long may Borso live!" Behind me rose a statue fair and white (0 whited sepulcher of wicked thought!), A Bacchus in the tendrils of his vine, With light thyrse on his shoulder, tipsily Half-reeling from the carven pedestal. And as the Pope was passing an old man, Plague-scarr'd and ragged, and in weary pain Lean'd pantingly against the pedestal. Till pompously an oflficer came by. With half a twang of Latin in his nose. And beat him thence : "Vile garbage of the street, That dost defile the white and beauteous gods With all-polluting presence, get thee gone! In malam rem!" And whack the tipstaff came 'Thwart the bare shoulder, and a purple wale Started in anger from the wounded flesh. Ah! then methought the splendor of this world Was bitter mockery, and the princely Pope, That was Christ's vicar, all unlikest Him Whose royalty was thorns upon His brow. And suddenly the flow'rs fell from my lap; My voice, a flutter'd prisoner in my throat, Could shout aloud no longer. In mine eyes I felt the salt of sorrow bid me weep. 28 Savonarola. Oh, seek not for me that my name may shine In princely courts for learning, for my heart Is given to One that is a prince above! How like the spirit is my lute-string's sound ! Whence comes nor whither goes it no man knows. So voices haunt me, visions in the night, That beckon me to more than human loves. Thou know'st the Strozzi maiden in our street. Like a madonna's is her radiant face. Upon my heart her shadow fell like light, Subduing me to gentle reverence. Methought that blessed in her love my life Might be as heaven. But suddenly in scorn She turn'd upon me with a haughty word : A Strozzi might not wed ungentle blood! I had some human anger, and I thought The humble were the very blood of Christ. And, therefore, when she chid me for my blood She wrong'd the heart that mov'd it. But I know That when our deeds are searcht at utmost Time And ev'ry secret soilure of our lives Stands large in revelation, shall be known Who had the gentle soul, and who had spread Th' imperial wing, for soaring eagle-like. Alas, for human anger, human love And human pride that lurks in human love! My heart commend I to the God that made it And never woman shall I love again. Now is the last flush faded from the west; The shadow deepens in the azure air ; And lo, already in the farthest east Night with one hand unveils the solemn stars. Beloved mother, of yon heavenly peace I have seen visions. But corrupted flesh 29 Savonarola. Is fiercely troubled when it burns of God. And now already in my heart there glows Fire of God's altar; I already tread The purgatory spiral, round by round With fervid steps to climb the burning peak, And if no less may rid me of my sin Will fall in ashes at the feet of God. The pain of life is nobler than the joy, For out of pain comes pow'r to conquer pain. Then seek not for me wealth nor worldly fame. I cannot heal the sick that am of soul More sick than any. A physician's fee Were loathsome to me, and the touch of gold Is as pollution and the stain of death. And more for me is volum'd in that book Where line by line is drawn the plan of God By great Saint Thomas' finger than in all The antique wisdom of the Stagirite. Now chimes the solemn vesper on the ear, The convent organ murmurs, and the monks Arise and cross themselves and kneel and pray, Barefooted on the holy convent floor. Mother, if nevermore thou see my face, Howe'er thou weep, forgive me, for my heart Is turn'd — ah, God! I cannot tell thee where! 30 OBERON AND TITANIA. OBERON. Where have you been, Titania? TITANIA. Down the hill. The moonlight beckon'd brightly, so that still I could not be. What fay can sluggish lie When moonlight twinkles softly on her eye? You shall not chide me that I left the bow'r. Nay, look benignly, for I shall not cow'r. Pish, I can frown as well ! OBERON. I did not chide. And yet it vext me that you could not bide With me till morning. If you slight my crown That am your husband, then I think a frown Will little rule you. TITANIA. Do you really sigh? What would my Oberon to droop his eye? My bow'r-maids all were with me there, and harm Befel us never at the dairy-farm. Tho we make mad with mischief on the shelves, And spill the fattest cream to feast ourselves, 31 Oberon and Titania. And sour the milk, and pilfer curds and whey, Yet mortals never catch us at our play. They always flounder when a fairy springs, Mab has her laugh and all the dairy rings. OBERON. My Mab of mockery, unwean'd of wile, There is the tease of witchcraft in your smile. You make of mortals mock and merriment. And laughingly elude their ev'ry hent. Less subtly doth the dew of morning slip From off the purple-drooping harebell's lip. So hiding in the mazes of the wind That where it is, not prophecy can find. I know this ground, each tuft and ring and nook, Each twist and ripple of the winding brook. Each laughing eddy; but, O, who can skill Each knot and dimple of a woman's will? TITANIA. Ay, lay it on the women in fine phrase! And yet, our Puck, they say, has pantry ways. But we be noble folk in all our play, And have seen wondrous things. But shall I say? OBERON. Ah, now the story! Quickly, love, go on! And, if I nod, I am not Oberon. 32 ^ Oberon and Titania. TITANIA. It was not daylight when we reacht the ridge From which the cascade tumbles, and the bridge Of sedge o'erarching, which each wind divides, So that none save my Oberon derides The peril of its passing. OBERON. Did you cross? TITANIA. No, but we sat us on a bank of moss. And markt the pomp and pageant of the skies. For in the gray of great Aurora's eyes The fair love-planet twinkled, but grew dim Before the mellow morning. Then the rim Of all the east was burnisht, and the rare Slow stars were melted into dewy air. And then, a sight for kingly eyes deviz'd, Those hills by magic morning alchemiz'd. We paus'd awhile at foot of the cascade. For there, beneath the mists and rainbows play'd An elf, swung out upon a blade of grass To jeer the solemn bubbles as they pass. Anon he dropt on one that broke in spray. And came up under one in frolic way; And, floating 'neath the bubble down the stream. He ogled till he made my maidens scream. And scatter swift as startled minnows hide. Then, from the knoll what pleasance we espied : The rolling tillage where the broom is brave, 33 Oberon and Titania. The pied, sweet meadow where the daisies wave, The plot where clover maketh sweet the sod, And bees make drowsy cloverheads to nod While they for honey clamber, taking all. Not ev'n for Mab they leave it, who 's so small She pulls the honey with her finger fine Out of that jester's cap, the columbine. We wander'd far away, and 0, so long! But back we turn'd us when the noon was strong In burning might above us. Oberon, Look, I have finisht but not yet begun! I should have told you how we witcht the pail Foaming with milk ; how tawny-tumbling ale Came laughing from the cask, the spigot turn'd; And how we woke a bat, and teasing, earn'd A seat ev'n on the flow'ring apple-bough To gird the lubber mortal at his plow. But I have skipt and laught, nor told you all. You '11 purse your lips, and mockingly you '11 call Me gadding Mab, to knot and dimple still Like yonder brook that babbles down the hill. But if you say so, Oberon, say too I never yet was faithless unto you. Love me a little for my tongue at play, A little even for my woman's way. OBERON. Caprice of play I grudge you not a jot. With all your pranks, you have your stedfast spot. You wind and wander as the brook doth fall. Where'er the bend is easy. But through all You are the soul of singing, bright and clear, 34 Oberon and Titania. Untroubled in a thought. I love you, dear. For, like the bee to whom the clover yields, Loaded with all the sweetness of the fields You come to me; and till you come, I long. Now, turn your cheek ; I will not do it wrong. 35 VESPER. Thy shaft of light is like a temple-key That opens souls. The wings of thy sweet beams Beat dewy odors on the hearts to be Partakers of the peace of love in dreams. And peace to me, dear Star, thou whisperest From the soft loveliness of rosy hights Ere yet into the bosom of the west The day is folded and the world is night's. My heart goes with thee as I hear thy lay, Chief minstrel of the singing spheres above! Swan of the twilight, song of dying day, That sailest the eternal mere of love ! 36 HER FACE. Her face it is, the shadow of her soul. Yet not her face — ah, that is past away! The picture's gentle silence seems to say To all who knew her ere she reacht that goal, All-waiting and mysterious, where the roll Of life's sweet murmur ceases : "Thou didst love Me living. Now I know thy heart; and of Thy tenderness, like Patience' spotless stole. My face is the reward, and shineth still." Breathlessly perfect, sweet and strong, ev'n now Thou art a light through death! Thy wom- an's eye Transposes time ; thou livest with the will Of girlish majesty white on thy brow! And thy lips, silent, whisper things that sigh. 37 MADELINE KNEELING. The sunlight, golden, rosy, soft, Falls lovingly around; Through stori'd pane, rose-window'd loft And swelling organ-sound. She kneels. The aureole on her hair Is like an angel's wings; A solemn glory bathes her there Of translunary things. Soft as the paces of the moon Her bosom heaves; her breath Is stiller than the calm of June When life is still as death. Her heart it throbs, and no one knows ; Her lips are seal'd ; her prayer, The incense of a folded rose, Makes balm where angels are. 38 THE LAST ROSE. You that in the sunshine blow, Sweetly come and sweetly go, Like the summer, lo, you pass, Fading with the fading grass. Wilful, wanton little comer. Could you only bloom in summer? Now 's the turning of the leaves ; Autumn stands in russet sheaves. Where you shed your petals, there Fragrance lingers in the air. Where you mingle with the sod Ghosts arise of golden-rod. 39 /■ NOTES ON CHAUCER BY HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY A commentary (unaccompanied by the text) on the Prolog to the Canterbury Tales, and on the Tales of Knight, Nun's Priest, Pardoner, Clerk, Squire and Franklin. This work gives, m concise form, the result of years of study, illustratmg the subject from many and various pomts of view. It has been highly praised by competent students ot our language and literature. We believe that very few books on Chaucer contain an equal amount of new, pertinent and valuable matter. In fullness and learning the only pre- vious Chaucer commentary comparable with it is that which accompanies Proi- W. W. Skeat's standard edition of the poet's works. The {New York) Nation. The volume is a learned and valuable contribution to Chaucerian study which no editor can hereafter afford to overlook. Dr. Horace Howard Furness. We regret that the price is too low to penult of a trade discount. Save commissions by ordermg directly of us. Price, $3.00 net. THE NONOTUCK PRESS Box 267 Northampton, Massachusetts, U. S. A. M191993 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY