1892 JOSEPH WHITTAKER. POEMS. 577? us Ac I'.Y JOSEPH WHITTAKER. WOLVERHAMPTOX : A II T II UR WHITE HEAD, 75 SHKPIIEUD STREET. 1892. WOLVERHAMPTOX : WHITEHEAD BROS.. PRINTERS. CON T E N T 8 PAGE THE FIRST-FRUITS ... ... ... 7 A HALT BY THE WAY ... ... ... 12 DEATH'S ARTIFICE ... ... ..; 39 THE WORLD'S DESPAIR ... ... 3! CRUSHED ... ... ... .^ (i PARODISTS ... ... gy SONNET ... ... ... 4^ REST AND SLEEP ... ... 41 OLD SONGS ... ... ... 43 PATRICIAN AND PLEBEIAN ... 44 IN THE GRASS =,, vi CONTENTS. PAGE A BALLADE OF THE PYRAMID-BUILDERS ... ... 53 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST ... ... 55 THE WORLD FORGETTING ... ... ... 07 BY THE WORLD FORGOT ... ... ... 'is THE WORLD'S REMORSE ... ... ... 61) THE BETTER SINGER ... ... ... 70 A QUESTION AND A HOPE ... ... ... 73 THE GLACIER ... ... ... ... 75 LOVE ... ... ... ... ... 80 A SUMMER DAY ... ... ... , ... 81 UNDER A RAILWAY BRIDGE ... ... ... PLEBEIAN. 49 Xot unworthy of you shall be all that I do, My life shall be free from the sordid and menial Passions of life ; I shall climb with congenial Soul the dull ladder of duty ; And, pure in desire as the star for its sun, My love round your life shall for ever live on. IX THE GRASS. " He will not think that I have been so near, When he awakes him from his troubled sleep : Troubled, perchance, with dreams of me, who weep, That one so clear Will only love me wildly from afar, And will not speak the love that fills his eyes When we two meet, because between us lies A golden bar. " He will not speak his love for stubborn pride : And I I dare not, yet I long so much To tell him, seeing him tremlde at my touch When at his side. IN THE GRASS. 51 I have longed for a kiss of his and here to-day " She blushed and hesitated, then bent down And pressed her quivering lips against his own ; And went away. The snn beat down upon his quiet face ; He slept on, almost hidden in the grass ; He knew not who had passed his resting-place, Yet did not pass Till she had knelt in silence at his side ; .lie did not hear the rustle of her dress ; Yet, waking, for that tender, sweet caress He would have died. He woke at last, unwillingly, to miss Her lovely face ; he did not feel the tear That stained his cheek, but seemed to breathe and hear Her fragrant kiss. 52 IN THE GRASS. He rose up from the grass and went his way, And in his proud strong love lived on alone : And never knew how near to bliss unknown He was that dav. A BALLADE OF THE PYRAMID-BUILDERS. Poets, with souls athirst for fame, Whose thoughts by day and whose dreams by night Feed evermore, as the wind the flame, And the rivers the sea, your yearning sight With gleams of the lofty, glorious height Towards which as a faraway shrine ye bow ; Heed if ye will a question trite Where are the Pyramid-builders now ? Who was the architect I" What his name Who planned these works with wonder dight ? And who were the men whose labours shame This punilv-powerful age of might ? 54 A BALLADE OK THE PYRAMID-BUILDERS. Did glory their wonderful toil* requite, Or, naked and famished, with sullen brow, Did they work and then for their suppers fight ? Where are the Pyramid-builders now ? The builders have vanished as they came ; But over their work the star-worlds bright Have glittered for centuries, ever the same Mayhap they know of the builders' plight ; For the vulture above them wings his flight, And through their ashes furrows the plough Mocked by their Monument's speechless spite, Where are the Pyramid-builders now ? ENVOY. Poets, for love in life's service tight, And care not whether the world allow A nameless grave or a tombstone white ; Where are the Pyramid-builders now ? THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. I looked around me, and I saw Wild madness in the hearts of men ; The human foe, bloodthirsty War, Was howling through the world again. His jaws were dripping with human blood, Great nations with his paw he crushed, And in a ghastly, scarlet flood Rivers of blood through the red lands rushed. And all the world was tilled with groans Of dying men : the bitter wail Of children dashed against the stone.- : Of women looking up with pale. 56 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. Wild faces in the Monster's eyes, As he trampled on their quivering forms And everyAvhere Avith hideous cries Foul vultures fed in countless swarms. The skies were blackened with the smoke From homesteads burning to the ground ; In cities great no footsteps broke The silence where death lay around. The world seemed paralysed with dread. Some from the Demon sought to hide ; While many a Nation placed its head Between the bloody jaws and died. And round the monster, feeding him, Were human devils, laughing loud At the carnage, and, though oft in grim Despite he mangled that A r ile croAvd, THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. 57 Over the carcases others stept, And followed fawning in his wake ; And while the grisly monster kept His feast of blood, these things would take Rich spoil from devastated lands ; They made the world a robber's den, They plucked the jewels from the hands Of murdered women and murdered men, They robbed the earth, and man, and God, Life of the means of life was shorn, They crushed it bleeding in the sod, And in their malice burnt the corn. Still driving Life before they Avent, The Demon and these harpies foul ; And mocked in hideous merriment The vulture's scream, the hyena's howl. 58 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. No man resisted their advance, The world in apathy was sunk ; Onward they went in a grisly dance, For they with human blood were drunk. They decimated man, they made The world a rotting field of death ; A curse upon the earth they laid, And choked it with their pestilent breath. The whole world groaned beneath their feet, But yet it was not all subdued ; A famished band in a far retreat Waited, in sullen solitude, Their pitiless, ever-nearing foe, Nor willed they for their lives to tight ; They were gone mad with weight of woe. And Aveary watching many a night. THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. 59 But, when they heard him coming near, A pallid, earnest company met Of men aflame with hate and fear, And wrongs too bitter to forget. They raised from east to west the land To a wild thirst for vengeance ; then They went out in a small, stern band To meet the Demon and his men. And, as they went to meet their foe, From many a hiding place there came Men desperate Avith despair and woe, With hearts for vengeance all aflame. Who went with them their foe to find, And to their ranks began to throng The scattered remnants of mankind ; And, ever growing, they marched along. 60 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. The army was not very great, Except in unrequited wrong ; But in its stern excess of hate It might have been vast millions strong. Onward this army marched, the ranks Increasing ever more and more ; And massing on the army's flanks, Massing behind it and before, A silent army with them Avent, A spectral army of the dead ; With ghastly faces blood besprent, And wild eyes burning in each head. Each had the look as when he died ; From manv a mouth blood seemed to gush, Blood, blood ; from every breast and side The blood in torrents seemed to rush. THE SLAYING OP THE BEAST. 61 The dead had risen from the graves Where they were huddled heap on heap, To free the cowering, helpless slaves, And vengeance manifold to reap. It was an awful sight to see The living army marching on, Surrounded thus mysteriously By millions of the dead and gone. From those dead ranks there came no sound ; They moved, but they had ceased to be ; They did not seem to touch the ground ; It was an awful sight to see. Day after day they made their way Through many a desolated land, Where Ruin held unchallenged sway, And corpses lay on every hand.. 62 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. It seemed as though their hearts would burst : " How long," they murmured, " must this last ? " And fiercer grew their burning thirst For vengeance, seeing, as they past, Grim corpses lying everywhere, Staring up at the hopeless skies ; And from those gory forms a prayer For bitter vengeance seemed to rise. They did not stop to dig a grave, To hide those corpses deep below ; One silent look at the dead they gave, Then onward went to meet their foe, They came upon the Thing at last, Disporting in a sea of blood ; He saw the dead men, and, aghast In terror and amazement, stood THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. 63 A moment, then he turned and fled ; With an appalling scream behind Him shrieked his minion?, but the dead Were following swifter than the wind. The dead encompassed them around, The ghastly dead were everywhere ; They hid their faces in the ground To escape the sight ; the dead were there. With shouts of vengeance wild and grim, Upon their foes the living rushed ; They tore the Monster limb from limb How the world laughed when he was crushed ! They slew the Beast, and then the Dead, Their mission ended, passed away ; Yet heightened with unearthly dread, The clamour of the closing fray. 64 THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. Swiftly and silently as they came, Seeing the glorious victory won, They passed for ever ; but still their fame Through bloodless centuries thunders on. They hung his myrmidons on high, They did not heed their craven prayers : And then in mocking revelry They brought their treasure from their lairs, And decked them as on high they swung, With jewels and apparel line, And tied to each protruding tongue Bright trinkets that afar did shine. And thus they hung for many a day ; The birds to pick their loathsome bones THE SLAYING OF THE BEAST. 65 Refused, and there they rotted away, Dead scarecrow? fixed on loftv thrones. And so at last the world was freed From this destroying Beast of Blood, Who with the aid of human greed Had trampled down so long the good. Once more the earth looked up and smiled, And all the world grew young again ; The cities desolate and wild Echoed once more the feet of men. Hunger and famine passed away, His fields again the farmer ploughed ; For Peace resumed her golden sway, at her feet the nations bowed. 66 THE SLAYING OF THE I5EAST. And Poverty and Crime became A dream forgotten, and the swords Were beaten down, and she whose name Is Love, bound all men's hearts with cords Of gold. While in a mighty band Men sought and found the Highest Good : And every land went hand in hand In Universal Brotherhood. THE WORLD FORGETTING. There was a man who built a goodly House, A dream's fulfilment of surpassing beauty ; And as he consecrated it to Duty, He said : Oh, dear atonement, of old vows. Be thou his lasting monument who endows With a life's love thy glittering perspicuity. Recording aye his patient ingenuity, Who built the Shrine at which his spirit bows. He never thought of what the world would say ; The envious world, meanwhile, with spiteful sneers Had watched his progress, and, with mocking jeers, When on his . finished Work's superb display The Builder gazed and rested the last dav. They pulled his wondrous House about his ears. BY THE WORLD FORGOT. He lay amid the ruins many years ; Slain with his dream the Dreamer was at rest. The beautiful bare walls still faced the West, And told their wrongs in Time's commiserate ears. The sombre leaf that age and death reveres Pressed placidly the vision to its breast ; Around about wild birds built many a nest, And with their plaintive songs moved Grief to tears. They lay in silence solemn and profound, The world's discordant voices reached them not ; The gloomy night encompassed them around, And premature Oblivion was their lot ; Far from the light and the life-lyre's thrilling sound, Dead to the world, by all the world forgot. THE WORLD'S REMORSE. The world which slew the Dreamer sought the past, And younger generations crowded in, Who strove, as men have ever striven, to win The secret of the life that flies so fast. A pilgrim from the new world came at last Upon these tokens of a dead world's Sin, Who had heard dim tales of One who did begin To worship here, and then to death was cast. And then the pitying multitudes flocked round Where in his desolation He was found ; And said, ' This was a noble king of men ; We will rebuild his Shrine," Vain enterprise ! That gorgeous Fabric none could raise again, Or bring the life-light to the Builder's eyes. THE BETTER SINGER. 1 sat me down to write a song, A little song to cheer the hours For those who labour all day long ; I found it was beyond my powers. I could discourse on many things ; Of Nature, and her votary, Art ; The truths sublime that Science brings ; I could not reach the people's heart. My song was vain, I soared too high ; A few admired, the many paused And heard it, then they passed me by ; No sympathetic thrills it caused. THE UETTER SINGER. 71 But when one from themselves began To sing, their apathy was gone ; And with his simple songs this 1 man Controlled a million hearts as one. He was uot learned ; his flight was low, He skimmed the surface of the sea ; And why he sang he did not know, But silent he could never be. His was a very humble song, But men were happier hearing it ; With hopes revived they passed along, With sudden joy each face was lit. He did not sing to lead the wise, But in the haunts of grief and care He saug of Love that never dies, And Hope that never knows despair. THE BETTER bINGEK. The same sweet songs in storm and shine He sang, and never would be sad : And his were better songs than mine, For all the learning that I had. A QUESTION AND A HOPE. We look upon the vast infinity of Space, And feebly try to grasp the eternity of Time ; And wonder if the worlds that move with silent chime Will ever find the God who sent them on their race ; For since to Time and Space no limits we may trace, How can the universe come ever to its end, Unless the Mind that framed and fashioned it should bend And call the weary worlds to rest before His face ? Space has no bounds, so Life must journey on for ever, Eternity no end, so Life can never die Till He to whom the suns are atoms whirling by 74 A QUESTION AND A HOPE. Has called the Universe to Him to hear its doom ; And so in hopeful doubt we struggle through the gloom, For we dream that God is Good, and will forget us never. THE GLACIER, Adown the rugged steeps of Time The Glacier of the years grinds on ; Through the half-spectral, dreamy clime Of Memorie, where woe-begone Faces of old time flit and glimmer In the uncertain, tremulous light, And solemn shadows through the night Mark how the lights of Fame grow dimmer. Hard by, upon a lofty height, The great White Steeps of World Renown, A noble company looks down Serenely through the sullen night On the white, helpless river of death. THE GLACIER. Men drawing in ethereal breath, The noblest heroes of the earth : Theirs is no heritage of birth ; By ceaseless toil of heart and hand, One aim for ever in their view, Cheerfully toiling night and day, Manfully facing worldly scorn, Higher and higher they made their way, Step after step they nearer drew, And won at last the hope forlorn, The glorious heights where now they stand, And there they reign for evermore. A ghastly dream, a ghastly sight, Is that on which the Immortals look ; A river of ice that blanched with fright When after morning came the night, And Death the river overtook. Through deadly solitudes eterue It crashes on with tumult stern, THE GLACIER. Complaining, straining all the way, Alone, alone, with hitter moan. No footsteps wake the mountain peaks, Xo wanderer that dark mystery seeks, Xo voices break the silence there, Xo whisper trembles through the air. And murmurs that the Sun will come, And smite the darkness wearisome. It makes its moan alone, alone, And grinds its way through that dead land, A pallid River of the Dead, Hid in a dark recess of space ; And ever to that immortal band Turns up a white, beseeching face, As awful in its hopeless dread As murdered faces turned to stone. The heights are black with desperate men, Men struggling upwards to the day, And welcome rings fiom the heroes when 78 THE GLACIER. One to the siimmit makes bis way. But oft some climber who has gained A footing half-way up the height, Looks up at those who have attained The summit of eternal light ; And, dazzled l>y the glorious sight, Stands there a space With proud, white face, Then reels, and vanishes in the night. They watch it as to the sea it grinds : Far away below them dimly winds The Valley of Half-remembered Things, Where every crag projecting brings Some memories faint of queens and kintrs, And nobles that in churchyards lie ; Of men who lived in days gone by, Of songs that no one ever sings, Of poets dead and harpstrings broken, And words forgotten as soon as spoken, THE GLACIER. 79 Of how life is a mystery Of laughing and crying, Of speaking, replying, That grinds for ever towards the Sea. From heights of Immortality That deathless band looks down to see How, down the rugged steeps of Time, Through the strange land of Memorie, The Glacier of the Fears grinds on, Haunted by shadows of things agone ; Falling with faint and sobbing chime Into Oblivion's boundless Sea. LOVE. Life shorn of Love is heaven devoid of God, A moon's dark side which never sees the sun ; A god's deserted, destitute abode, Where ruin broods, and light or warmth is none. Love gives to life its sweetness and its strength, And almost visibly lives and moves in all ; And, Avheu the looming shadows fall at length, Discerns .the light by which the shadows fall. Though wrong and misery in the world are rife, Love's pure and hallowing influence ever gives Strong, patient faith and lofty hopes to life ; No soul that truly loves but truly lives ; They who have filled the world with sin and shame Have tamed Love from their doors and cursed her name, A SUMMER DAY. The country road?; are thick with dust, On white, hot ground the fierce sun beats, And, whirling on in fitful gust, A dry hot wind the traveller greets. The birds with very heat are still ; Though now and then a lonely voice Pipes out in accents feebly shrill, But cannot, though it would, rejoice. The grass is parched, the daisies droop In drowsy pain their lowly heads ; The buttercups and poppies stoop As through their veins the fever spreads. 82 A SUMMER DAT. Oh, for a shower of summer rain To cool the earth's excessive thirst : To quicken again the drooping grain, That shuns the sky as though accursed. Under a giant tree I lie With sleepless thoughts of sombre hue ; Quietly watching the sultry sky, Where no cool cloud obscures the blue. My heart, my heart is thick with dust. Oh, that a sweet, refreshing shower Of peace, to cool its hot distrust, Would visit it for but an hour ; And purify its heavy air, So dark with disbelief in good ; And calm its doubts and dull despair. And self-consuming solitude. A SUMMER DAT. 83 Renewed and strengthened, I might then Awake to feel a newer day Upon me ; and take up again The duties frowardly cast away. For only he with active mind, At peace with nature and with man, Fulfils the part to him assigned In working out the hidden plan. Only where faith and hope and love Abide, the living life is found ; For while in strong, clear flight they move, Despair broods darkly on the ground. UNDER A RAILWAY BRIDGE. Below a massive railway bridge I stood For shelter from a sudden fall of rain, When I heard the piercing whistle of a train Approaching, flying through the falling flood ; And in a moment, chilling all my blood With trembling fear no reason could explain, It rumbled overhead, then passed again ; Groaning with its great load of ill and good. I turned and looked upon it as it passed, And pressed against a window pane I saw A lovely face that seemed to have no flaw, Till suddenly on me she turned her eyes ; And then I thought, in horrible surprise, That Sin had found embodiment at last. A LETTER. Dear sister student in the class Where we, who worked all day, Gathered on winter nights to p;i>.s A studious hour away ; Forgive it, if you ever see This tribute in your praise : For you were very dear to me In those far distant days. A solitary soul was I, And used to sit alone ; Of new companions ever shy, Yet longing to be known. 86 A LETTER. They seemed to hold aloof from me, And many a careless sneer In look and word I used to see, And, half in anger, hear. But, sometimes, as I copied down The notes the teaeher read ; Deaf to the titters as young Brown Behind me sketched my head ; I looked across the room, to find Your eyes regarding me With one expression, strangely kind, That I was glad to see. I grew to watch and wait to meet Those furtive looks from you ; Their quiet sympathy was sweet, But, oh, they seemed so few ! 1 wondered whom you were, and why Your glances touched me so ; A LETTEK. 87 And trembled as? you passed me by, When the students rose to go. When class began 1 used to look If you were in your place ; And oft, in poring on my book, I only saw your face. I saw it where the teacher chalked The orbits of the stars, And hardly heard him when he talked Of Jupiter and Mars. I often thought you wished to speak, But never could be sure ; / would not speak, for week by week Your looks seemed growing fewer. But one night as I came in class I found you there alone ; And as it chanced, I had to pass Your desk to reach my own. 88 A LETTER. You looked towards me as I came, With the old friendly smile ; And, careless of the formal dame With her suspicious vile, You said, as I was passing by, Some words I did not hear, And then, ere I could make reply, Came noisy voices near. And never since that sweet sad night Have we two met alone, Though oft your glances kind and bright Across the room have shone. Though long before the class began I loitered round the door, In vain I used to plot and plan To speak with you once more. We met not, spoke not, after then, And I was very sad ; A LETTER. I longed to hear your words again, I fancied that they had The promise of a wondrous bliss That I might yet have known ; But fate denied me even this, . And I am still alone. * * * The class is broken up ; the stern Examination past ; And in the crush of life we learn That learning palls at last. You go your way and I go mine, And they are far apart ; But your dear, gentle face will shine For ever in my heart. And so 1 thank you, lady sweet, And bless you as I go ; And though we nevermore may meet, About my life will glow A LETTER. The gentle sunshine of your heart, Ineffably serene ; Dulled only by the weary *mprt Of a dream that might have been. IX FETTERS AND DARKLESS. We count with hitter heart* life's griefs and pains, The trials and the crosses that we bear ; And in the cruel agony of despair We cry out : " We are weary of our chains ; Our lives are stale and useless ; what remains Of joy or hope for us, foredoomed to wear Upon our hearts the canker-brand of Care, And win with many losses dubious gains ? " Why do we always view the darkest side ? Were it not best to labour on, and dream That as the orb of life revolves the gleam Of joy will yet on our dark ways abide ; Sweeter to us, who in the fiery stream Of misery long were tried, yet purified ? JACK AND JILL. Love bound the two with a golden chain, Closer and closer their hearts were linking ; Each of the other was always thinking, But why they did it could not explain. And he was bashful, and she was shy, He never could say what he wished to say ; " Shall J be the one to lead the way ? " She tossed her pretty head, " No, not J ! " The old folk laughed, and looked far back To the time when they in the net were taken ; How they with the same sweet fears were shaken, And trembled ever upon the rack JACK AND JILL. 93 When courting together they used to go, Keeping company many a while ; And they often said with a cheerful smile, " Just as we used to be, you know." " Leave them alone," they said, " they're young ; They'll come together at last, as we did ; Only a little word is needed Now, and it trembles on his tongue. And Love will always have his will, Though oft for a bashful pair he waits ; And he never will find two better mates For each other than Jack and winsome Jill." These lovers happened to go one morn Through neighbouring fields for a quiet ramble ; She took his arm, and he took the bramble Side of the way, and his coat was torn. She carried her needle, and as she bent TO stitch it he said, in a voice deprest, 91 JACK AND JILL. A deeper rent was under his breast ; Do you think she didn't know what he meant ? At last to a stile these lovers came ; They didn't go over, but sat together, And Jack began to wonder whether He had not better give love a name. "Jill," said Jack; "Well, Jack?" said Jill; "I've just been thinking" and then he blushed, And she blushed, too, and the robins hushed To hear these lovers, but both were still. " Is there anything strange in that ? " she said, "I know that I am always thinking" " Of me? said Jack, but. her eyes were blinking, Dazed in the sun, and she hung her head. And then, oh, what do yon think he did ? He kissed her, ere she could say him nay ! She cried, but he kissed her tears away, Till her blushing face on his breast she hid. JACK AND JILL. 95 And they said to each other, " Love is best," "And so it is," the birds were singing j "Love is the best," the bells seemed ringing, And all the world their secret guessed. And so, when clasped to each other they Went home with faces glowing red, The old folk only laughed, and said : " That rascal Love will have his wav ! " MIGHT HAVE BEEN. Though Death and Doom are awful, there can be No words which torture more our restless days, Than these, which murmur of divided ways, And lives as lonely as the brooding sea ; Of broken hearts ; souls struggling to be free From hell ; of daydreams passing from our gaze ; Of passionate love, that came too late to raise Dead love, and moaned in hopeless misery. Oh, wild Existence, hungering sore to find The destiny of this old, death-ridden ball, Beware ; lest Time, in answer to your call, Should whisper that the doom of man, behind Futurity hidden by the Master Mind, j s a Might-have-been's colossal funeral !