k iRARY VERSITY OF aiFORNIA Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/daydreamsOOgurnrich fl^. DAY-DREAMS DAY-DREAMS BY ALFRED GURNEY, M.A. VICAR OF S. BARNABAS*, PIMLICO AUTHOR OF ^THE STORY OF A friendship/ etc. ' God with us " is for ever the mystical name of the hour that is passing ' LOWELL LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO. LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BOMBAY 189 6 All rights reserved LOAN STACK Edinburgh : T. and A, Constable, Printers to Her Majesty DEDICATION TO EVELYN My hook of little worth, alas ! Some grace from you may win ; The magic of the looking-glass Is hers who looks therein, Such as it is, a scentless thing, I lay it at your feet ; The perfume that you find you bring. No wonder it is sweet. 481 PREFACE Some of the following rhymes were written many years ago. A few have already appeared in The Story of a Friendship, and a few in periodicals^ to whose editors and publishers I am indebted for permission to reproduce them. There is no vocation so happy as that of a singing- bird on any one of the branches of the Tree of Life. That such is my vocation I am not so vain as to think. I hope,, however, that I may without presumption look for welcome and fellowship among the members of that jubilant choir ; well content if, on a lower perch, I can but repeat and prolong any note of their manifold music — a music whereby the heart of man is gladdened and the name of God glorified. For want of a better title I have named my little book Day-Dreams, the rhymes that it contains having been for the most part the outcome of waking dreams in holiday hours, when ordinary occupations were for a season laid aside. ^ Reverie,' says Amiel, ^ is the Sabbath of Vm PREFACE thought/ To this let me add three other quotations. Novalis is very oracular : ^ Our life^' he says, ' is no dream, but it should and will per- haps become one.' His words are well interpreted by George Mac Donald : ^ When a man dreams his own dream, he is the sport of his dream ; when Another gives it him, that Other is able to fulfil it.' It is of such God-given dreams that Coventry Patmore speaks, enforcing the same lesson — ' Would you possess what is, and shun what seems, Believe and cling to nothing but your dreams.' It has sometimes seemed strange to me that young men are, according to the prophet, the seers, and old men the dreamers, but the truth of it is, I believe, established by the experience of life. Happy is the man who knows when and how to share with others both his dreams and his visions. CONTENTS the pilgrim of love the legend of the bkiab rose . love's enterprise two chapters of a romance i — i. an engagement il a silver wedding nature and grace a nativity . ... death on christmas day the music of ash wednesday a song for lady day . the stations of the cross . paschal sonnets : i. the paschal victory ii. the victory perpetuated eucharistic worship . after a retreat the reunion of christendom b PAGE I 6 lo II 12 14 16 18 20 22 24 30 31 32 33 35 CONTENTS MY LADYS EASTER: — I. TO MY LADY II. IN PRAISE OF HER RESIGNATION TRANSFIGURATION . CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE : I. THE NURSERY . IL THE ORATORY III. THE BALLROOM IV. THE BRIDAL BOWER V. THE NEW HOME . VI. THE BANQUET-HALL VIL THE PLACE OF AFFLICTION VIII. THE CHAMBER OF DEATH ^COME^ SEE A man' POSTPONEMENTS .' I. AN OUTLINE II. A PROPOSAL III. A SECRET . IV. A FAREWELL TO UNA TO ROWENA . 37 38 40 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 54 56 57 60 61 62 CONTENTS XI to oeraldine flaxley abbey ablington manor .... a haunted house .... salutations: — i. to the sorrowful . ii. to children at play iii. to men at work iv. to the beloved christina g. rossetti .... before and after culloden the renewal of youth i a grandfather soliloquy ..... a christmas letter .... phantoms : i. the echoes .... ii. the shadows .... god's INTERLUDES PAGE 64 66 68 70 71 73 73 74 76 77 7S 83 85 87 88 THE PILGRIM OF LOVE TO A. B. G. * I' mi son un che, quando Amore spira, noto, ed a quel modo Che detta dentro, vo significando.' PurgatoriOj xxiv. 52-54. I FIND myself in dreaming moods A happy child once more ; such times Are full of music^ words are rhymes, And silences are interludes. I touch, though with a trembling hand, Once more I touch the silent strings ; Methinks the song a poet sings A lady's heart will understand. ASPIRATIONS I tread the path that Dante trod^ So rough and steep^ so dark and dim ; Still shine the eyes that shone on him ; The stars still crown the Mount of God. A THE PILGRIM OF LOVE Ah ! evermore the pilgrim-soul Renews that strange experience — Dismay, bewilderment_, suspense : Unwounded feet ne'er win the goal. Through toil and pain is guidance found ; Thus penitents are homeward led ; Though diverse are the paths they tread. They meet at last on holy ground. Only the lost can taste the bliss Of being found ; a Father's love Fills all the deeps_, below_, above^ Guides Dante and crowns Beatrice. His way to heaven lay through hell ; Her paradise was never lost ; Their paths in happy childhood crossed. The word of greeting was ^farewell.' How well they fared is known to some (And all shall know it by-and-by) ; The poem is a prophecy To all who say, ^Thy kingdom come.' Long years ago at Dante's tomb A pilgrim, sorrowful, I knelt ; And still I feel what then I felt — Love's chamber has its ante-room. THE PILGRIM OF LOVE Ever from darkness into light They climb who mount God's Holy Hill ; Still shine the steadfast stars^ and still The eyes of Beatrice are bright. Albeit with a trembling hand I touch once more the trembling strings, Methinks whatever a poet sings A lady's heart will understand. Poor verses are the best I make. And worthless all I sing or say ; And yet perchance your kindness may Approve them for the singer's sake. And if an undertone you hear, And guess the secret of its birth. The song perchance, though nothing worth, May still be music to your ear. TRANSPOSITIONS ^ To meet and part, to meet and part : Ah ! it is death in life,' she said, ' Were it not better to be dead, A broken, not a wounded heart ? ' THE PILGRIM OF LOVE ^ To part and meet^ to part and meet : — A good withdrawn is still a good ; Postponed^ 'tis better understood. And when renewed^' he said^ ^more sweet.' ^ To live and learn^ to live and learn : — ^ Tis weary^ weary work/ she said ; ^ And knowledge yields but bitter bread To hearts that starve^ to hearts that yearn.' ^ To learn and live_, to learn and live : — Life has,,' he said, ^ one cherisher ; We taste at length, if true to her. The bread that Love alone can give.' ' So you transpose the words,' she said, ^ It seems an easy thing to do ; But tell me this, and tell me true. Is death by Love interpreted ? ' ^ Love makes,' he said, ^ of grief a grace ; Love, love alone, can raise the dead. Believest thou ? ' ^ Amen,' she said ; Blithe as an angel's was her face. So let my singing say to you, — ' Our hearts are pilgrims going home ; Love's kingdom shall most surely come To all who seek Love's will to do. THE PILGRIM OF LOVE 5 ' Be sure, be very sure of this. Love cherishes a perfumed flame ; I hail you, lady, in Love's name A sister-soul to Beatrice : ' To Beatrice, who has her seat Beneath the throne where Mary sings ; All pilgrims end their wanderings Like her, with her, at Mary's feet. ' The Maiden-Mother of the Christ ! All- virginal her mother-joy; Love's Royal Pilgrim is the Boy Within her arms emparadised. ' Ah ! aspiration means ascent. And to transpose is to renew ; Transfiguration is the true Unfolding of Love's sacrament/ My faint heart vibrates to the strings ; I search your eyes, I take your hand. Your silence says, ' I understand. Love's pilgrim climbs, and, climbing, sings.' ^THE LEGEND OF THE BRIAR ROSE' PICTURES BY SIR EDWARD BURNE JONES, BART. * The fateful slumber floats and flows Around the tangle of the rose.' WILLIAM MORRIS. We all are sleepers, dreamers, who Know not what we are passing through : Can this be life, — a sleep so deep We know not that we are asleep } The twilight world we 're living in Is spell-bound with the curse of sin : Is that a curse, which seems to bless The sinner with unconsciousness } Hark to the footfall at the door Of One who hastens to restore ! The helm His princely head adorns Is shadowed by a crown of thorns. THE LEGEND OF THE BRIAR ROSE His eyes alone are open; they The mystery of death survey ; For sleep is deaths since death is sleep, The eyes that slumber cease to weep. He knows, all-daring and all-wise. The hazard of the Enterprise ; To wake we needs must sleep ; and thus To quicken, death must visit us. The Briarwood His feet must tread Looks like a chamber of the dead ; The place is haunted, nothing stirs. The very birds are slumberers. Without a bruise, without a wound. Five Knights lie stretched upon the ground. Their lusty manhood overthrown By sleep, by fateful sleep, alone. Beyond, the Council-room he sees. The scene of dead solemnities ; And round their slumber-stricken King The Councillors all slumbering. THE LEGEND OF THE BRIAR ROSE He sees the Garden-court as well Invaded by the potent spell ; A brooding silence seems to bless Fair girlhood's sleeping loveliness. Prisoned in roses ! could there be A pleasanter captivity ? In slumber drowned ! how blest are those Whose doom is nothing but repose ! Behold ! an inner chamber where The voice of silence is a prayer ; The spell-bound Princess dreams perchance Of One who brings deliverance. The symbol that surmounts her bed By love must be interpreted : — Above the crescent moon a Queen, Crowned with the circling stars, is seen. The Maiden-Mother ! for His sake Her heart is watchful and awake ; The sleeping virgin soon shall be A sharer in her ecstasy. THE LEGEND OF THE BRIAR ROSE 9 Through pain and sorrow glorified The Royal Bridegroom claims His Bride ; Let but His lips her lips caress^ The world awakes to blessedness ! The fateful torpor yields at last^ Death's tyranny is overpast^ The heart revives, the mind awakes. The senses' heavy slumber breaks. The sun-lit world, which opening eyes Discover with a glad surprise. Emerges from the curse and spell Love's very seat and citadel. Who reads aright this legend knows The mystic meaning of the rose. The spell of sleep, the doom of death, And what it is that quickeneth. We all are sleepers, dreamers all. Till wakened by the Bridegroom's call, Till quickened by the Lover's kiss ; — They slumber still who know not this. 10 LOVE'S ENTERPRISE * Lovers are nothing else than priest and priestess to each other of the divine manhood and the divine womanhood which are in God.' Coventry Patmore. Up the Mount of Aspiration You shall journey hand in hand. Still encompassed by the vision Lovers only understand ; They, they only, gain the summit. See the Promised Land. Heralds each to each are lovers, Day by day with new surprise Bringing tidings of that Country Where the Living Waters rise. And Himself the King discovers To uplifted eyes. Should sometimes your feet grow weary. Should sometimes your heart feel faint, 'Tis the toil that makes the pilgrim, 'Tis the cross that moulds the saint ; Into joys are griefs transfigured Under Love's constraint. 11 TWO CHAPTERS OF A ROMANCE AN ENGAGEMENT Gaily the dancers do their part. And every face is cheerful ; No : troubled is one gentle heart, And two sweet eyes are tearful. Oh^ what a graceless churl was I To wound a heart so tender ! I know she knows what made me try In trouble to befriend her. Methought I saw love's ship becalmed. And two young hearts belated ; Rashly I seized the helm, alarmed Lest love should be frustrated. There needs that conscience sensitive No word of mine to waken. Her kindness hastens to forgive ; A brave resolve is taken; 12 TWO CHAPTERS OF A ROMANCE All silently she breathes a prayer. And heaven s peace enfolds her. Back to the dance ! ah, some one there Gives thanks as he beholds her. The angels to each other call. Their faithful vigil keeping, ' Behold, the sweetest eyes of all Are eyes that have been weeping ! ' Gaily the dancers do their part : I hear two lovers' voices Plighting their troth ; my thankful heart (The friend of both) rejoices. A SILVER WEDDING Ah, since that night, remembered well. Full five-and-twenty years Have come and gone ; and who can tell What laughter and what tears Have made those dear eyes doubly bright, Those ' sweetest eyes of all ' ! What memories, what hopes unite To crown your festival I TWO CHAPTERS OF A ROMANCE IS With every year new blessings come. Old troubles pass away ; The strong foundations of your home Grow stronger day by day. For five-and-twenty years of love Have kept it sweet and pure. With dews of blessing from above — A home that shall endure. The pale face of the honey-moon Was tearful in its bliss, But sunshine of the summer noon Is not more bright than this — This happy month whose silver gleam W^ith sunny smiles is bright ; Your children round their Mother seem To wear her bridal white. May blessings crowd the coming years. May all home joys increase ; And then, beyond life's smiles and tears. The everlasting Peace. Claremont, 1891. 14 NATURE AND GRACE * By grace divine, Not otherwise, O Nature, are we thine.' WORDSWORTH. Know, man hath all which Nature hath, but more, And in that vnore lies all his hopes of good.' MATTHEW ARNOLD. Oh for an eye to see aright, Oh for an ear to hear. The things that to our baffled sight Appear and disappear. The voices which by day and night Awaken hope and fear. The lark has knowledge of the sun ; The moon's impassioned face The nightingale's regard has won. He celebrates her grace ; Man, baffled man, alone is one Who finds no resting-place. NATURE AND GRACE 15 His day perchance with hope is bright, His night is dark with fear ; The summer floods his world with light. His winter-world is drear ; His treasures that are lost to sight. Oh, will they re-appear ? To greet and guide the wanderer The grace of God descends : And love is His interpreter. And faith her succour lends, And hope, when doubt disables her. The baffled soul befriends. So with the lark through happy days. At night with Philomel, Her voice the soul may still upraise. And jubilantly tell How wise and loving are His ways, Who doeth all things well. Grasse, 1891. 16 A NATIVITY (ALICE CICELY, BORN SEPT. 1 9, 1 895) A BABE is born ! I fain would sing A cradle-song to greet her ; There never was so small a thing, There never was a sweeter. Perchance she hails from fairy-land ? Then this is an intrusion. And, should she wave her magic wand, 'Twill issue in confusion. Is she a sorceress — the dear ! — Bewitching all beholders ? Or do two baby-wings appear Upon her baby-shoulders ? An angel then disguised ! But should Those dainty plumes be wanting. Here have we baby-womanhood Enchanted and enchanting ! Life's voyage is beginning, see, The dancing waves surround her ; She goes to meet her destiny. To find the Love that found her. A NATIVITY 17 The sails are set, the wind is fair ; Lo, at the helm upstanding The baby-voyager ! ah, where And when shall be the landing ? We know not ; only this we know — The Love all unforsaking From which we come, to which we go. Has made us and is making. No babe upon earth's bosom laid Is any more a stranger Since that still night when Mary made A cradle of a manger. And each a Father's message brings : We come. His sons and daughters. From where the Tree of Life upsprings Beside the Living Waters. A child is born ! let parents bring, With thankful hearts and yearning, Their song of praise, a ' holy thing,' God's gift to them, discerning. Loch Kennard, Sept 21, 1895. 18 DEATH ON CHRISTMAS DAY ' In the midst of death we are in life ' What though upon the face of death I gaze, and dying eyes are dim ; Born is the Babe who conquereth, Happy the heart that cradles Him ! He smiles into the face of death ; Dim eyes that radiant smile may see At Bethlehem, at Nazareth, And more than all, at Calvary. Ah, there be sundry kinds of death. Each with its own significance ; But in the end it quickeneth To life — to better life, perchance. Life seems to lose itself in death, The vital flame leaps up and sinks ; Yet in the end it quickeneth To life — to truer life, methinks. DEATH ON CHRISTMAS DAY 19 Relentless are the hands of deaths They fasten on the hopes of youth ; Still in the end it quickeneth To life — to sweeter life, in sooth. Though there be sundry kinds of death, Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ; In the far end it quickeneth To life — to deathless life, I trust. The Son of Man has tasted death. And death upon His Cross has died ; Of this the Spirit witnesseth. The Church of this is certified. And so into thy face, O death, I smile, methinks I know thee well ; And whisper with my latest breath What Mary said to Gabriel. 20 THE MUSIC OF ASH WEDNESDAY Winter days are sad and dark, All the world seems withering ; Yet the Spring is coming. Hark ! Birds begin to sing. Sunset scarcely brings a blush — Scarce a smile the dawn of day ; Still the Spring is coming. Hush ! Men and women pray. Once again wide open stand Portals of another Lent ; Let us enter, hand in hand, With a fixed intent Very simply to accept Whatsoe'er His Hands dispense. Who, a sinless Mourner, wept Tears of penitence. THE MUSIC OF ASH WEDNESDAY 21 To His Cross again we turn ; Love thereat her chaHce fills. Till her weeping eyes discern Daybreak on the hills. Hush ! the spirit-voices pray ; Hark ! the spirit-voices sing ; Nearer draws our Easter Day — God's eternal Spring. 22 A SONG FOR LADY DAY * Quivi h la rosa, in che il Verbo Divino Carne si f ece ; quivi son li gigli Al cui odor si prese il buon cammino.* Paradiso, xxiii. 73-75. A HOME she makes where'er our Lady goes : Her bosom is the garden of the rose, At her approach the Winter turns to Spring, Beneath her feet the flowers laugh and sing With bloom and fragrance, perfuming the air. So glad are they her presence to declare. With diamond dew the paths she treads are wet : The snowdrop pure, the contrite violet. The primrose meek, the ardent crocus, all The children of the Spring keep festival ; And, more than all, the lilies ! oh, how fair, Or in her golden zone, or golden hair ! Behold the typ^ of all most sweet, most good, The Rose and Lily both of Womanhood. — But hush, my heart ! how weak thy words and cold The Marvel here enfolded to unfold ; God visits her whose heart is all His Own, Tis here He builds His altar, rears His throne ! A SONG FOR LADY DAY 23 To thy great heart our straitened hearts would sing, O Mary, Virgin Mother of our King ; Diviner than all songs that we can frame The Canticle that sanctifies His Name, Teach us thine own Magnificat to raise. Our daily evening sacrifice of praise ! Braemab, 1895. 24 THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS i *Non est salus animse nee spes seternse vitse, nisi in Cruce. Telle ergo Crucem tuam et sequere Jesum, et ibis in vitam seternam.' Thomas k Kempis. INVITATION Onward where the Cross is leading, Pardon seeking, mercy needing. Climb the heights of Calvary ; Children of a ransomed nation. Come and contemplate salvation. Celebrate a victory ! STATION I JesiLS is condemned to death When the Jews Christ's death required, Pilate did what they desired, Conscience-stricken, self-beguiled ; Sinner, take the warning, tremble Lest fear lead thee to dissemble ; Keep thy conscience undefiled. 1 My thanks are due to the Rev. E. C. Green, at whose suggestion they were undertaken, for assistance in the composition of these verses. THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS 25 STATION II Jesus receives the Gross See, the Cross with exultation Jesus hails ; the world's salvation Is the joy before Him set. How our Leader goes before us. Holds the Royal Standard o'er us. It were treason to forget. STATION III Jesus falls beneath the Gross See, oh see, a sight appalling, Christ, the Cross-bearer, is falling, Christ omnipotent to save ! Think, if we in sin have stumbled, How the Lord Himself was humbled When for us His Life He gave. STATION IV Jesus meets His Mother See the Virgin Mother shedding Tears, while in the footsteps treading Of her dearest Son and Lord ; Silent grief her heart is rending On the way of sorrows wending. Smitten by the mystic sword. 26 THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS STATION V Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus to hear the Cross Soldiers more in scorn than pity. As they leave the doomed city, Rudely take away the Cross ; And on Simon s shoulders place it. Who is eager to embrace it. Glad with Christ to suffer loss. STATION VI The face of Jesus is wiped by Veronica With a woman's holy daring. Desolate but not despairing. One there is who wipes His face ; May our hearts like hers be tender. That we may His likeness render Seek we His conforming grace. STATION VII Jesus falls a second time Up the way of sorrows leading, Christ for sinners interceding Falls beneath their load of sin. Jesu, may Thy grace sustain us, Jesu, may Thy love constrain us. We with Thee would fight and win. THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS 27 STATION VIII Jesus comforts the women of Jerusalem Holy women come to meet Him^ With the voice of tears they greet Him, Daughters of Jerusalem ; He accepts their lamentations For their own sins and their nation's ; Words of warning comfort them. STATION IX Again ^ a third time, Jesus falls Ere He gains His journey's ending, Christ, beneath His burden bending. Once again exhausted falls. May we each our Cross up-taking, And earth's vanities forsaking. Daily follow as He calls. STATION X Jesus is stripped Cruel hands His clothes have taken, See Him destitute, forsaken, Shame enhances His distress ; Thus He clothes our degradation (This, His dearest consolation) With His robe of righteousness. 28 THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS STATION XI Jesus is nailed to the Cross On the Cross as on an altar. With a love that cannot falter, Jesus lays Him down to die ; See His hands and feet are wounded. See the Cross is lifted, grounded. Love's design to ratify. STATION XII Jesus dies upon the Cross On the Rood so lofty, lowly. He the humble. He the holy. Tastes and, tasting, conquers death ; Evermore His life bestowing. Through the blood and water flowing. When He breathes His parting breath. STATION XIII Jesu^ is taken down from the Cross See the wondrous Deposition, Silenced is His foes' derision. Fear has scared and scattered them. Mary's hands are strong and tender Love's last offices to render, As of old at Bethlehem. THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS 29 STATION XIV Jesus is laid in the Tomb Now^ as sunset hues are fading, Loving friends^ each other aiding. Bear Christ's Body to the cave. Henceforth dry your tears, ye weepers, Grieve not for the happy sleepers Laid to rest in Jesu s grave. CONCLUSION Now from tomb to altar turning. We these lessons should be learning. If with Christ we would be crowned ; Sheltered by His Intercession, Make we all the great confession, * We were lost, and we are found/ 30 PASCHAL SONNETS * Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath He throvm. into the sea.' Miriam's Song, * He hath exalted the humble and meek.' Song of the B.V.M, THE PASCHAL VICTORY Now Holy Churchy the Victor's Virgin Bride, His Passion's Red Sea crossed, uplifts her song ; Engulfed is Egypt's host the waves among, And Pharaoh overthrown in all his pride. So closes once again her Passiontide With lifted alleluias loud and long ; Her soaring hopes, her intuitions strong. Are once again confirmed and verified. For out of Egypt God has called His Son, In whom humanity is lifted up ; Replenished by the Eucharistic cup. And by the hidden Manna fortified. In thee, my soul. His battle must be won. Who conquered death for all men when He died. PASCHAL SONNETS 31 THE VICTORY PERPETUATED His Eucharist is mighty to proclaim The triumph by His Faithfulness achieved ; A Miriam be every soul aggrieved^ A Mary, crowned vs'^ith Pentecostal flame. Each yearning heart that glories in His Name, Whose Wounds are refuges for men bereaved ; Now is the cause of God and man retrieved. And rebels put to salutary shame. Thyself, my soul, uplift and spread thy wings — The wings of aspiration : praise and prayer Make music at the Paschal Table, where. To share her joy, thy Mother summons thee. Magnificat triumphantly she sings. Then prostrate falls in speechless ecstasy. 32 EUCHARISTIC WORSHIP 'A new and living way, through the veil, that is to say, His Flesh.* Love is not love devoid of reverence, And reverence a worshipper must be ; So with a love profound, a love intense. The adoring heart attains to ecstasy. Ecstatic is the worship of the Saints, For, out of self, in Christ they take their stand; The soul, self-centred, baffled falls and faints ; Christ-centred, we are sheltered by the Hand That lifts the golden censer and presents The Pure Oblation at that altar high. That loftiest throne, whereto His Sacraments Uplift the vassals of Love's Sovereignty. Forlorn no more, by Saints companioned. Homeward, ' a new and living way/ we tread. Whitby, 1895. 33 AFTER A RETREAT Our feet descend the mountain-side. Our mounting hearts shall still ascend, They who depart in Christ, abide, Theirs is an endless end. 'Tis true, we shall not meet again. And spoken is the last farewell ; How many problems still remain Unsolved, insoluble ! What matters it ? though dazzled eyes Be weak, their vision dark and dim, Jesus transfigures, glorifies. The souls that wait on Him. So may our trembling hearts rejoice. Acquainted with a secret spell, Saluted by a spirit-voice, That whispers, ' All is well.* C 34f AFTER A RETREAT With VOWS renewed and conscience clear. Dear Lord, Thy Goodness we confess ; Endue us with a holy fear, A holy fearlessness. Our feet descend the mountain-side, Our grateful hearts are climbers still ; Oh, may we evermore abide Upon Thy Holy Hill ! WOLVERSTONE PaRK, Feast qfjhe Transfiguration ^ 1895. 35 THE REUNION OF CHRISTENDOM * Jerusalem is built as a City that is at unity in itself : oh, pray for the peace of Jerusalem.' Divided is the Churchy alas ! But some there are who see, ^ Reflected in the Sea of Glass, The Sacramental Tree ; All hidden in a narrow tomb. Deep buried are the roots ; Slowly the fragrant flowers come. And late the golden fruits. To those who pray^ and, praying, wait, All good things come at length ; And little-seeming things are great. And weaklings prove their strength. What time the evening shadows fall May eyes anointed see The Church's children gathered all In Love's own Unity ! 36 THE REUNION OF CHRISTENDOM Ah ! things are never what they seem : And some there are who know — The men who pray, and, praying, dream. Though fast their tears may flow — They know of God the Faithfulness, They know of Love the spell. The Church's secret of success. The impotence of hell. Dear Lord, in Thine own time and way The prayers shall be fulfilled. Which importune Thee day by day Our Sion to rebuild ; And though our eyes be dim, and though That time we may not see, A priceless blessing waits, we know. On loyalty to Thee. 37 MY LADY'S EASTER * If I may any longer hold out this dwelling on the earth which is called a life, grant me ability to deserve at this Lady's hands the grace she hath showed unto me ; grant me wisdom to know her wisdom, and goodness so to increase my love of her goodness, that all my own chosen desires be to myself but second to her determinations.' Prayer of Sir Philip Sidney. TO MY LADY The Daughters of Jerusalem^ They still keep Easter Day ; And, lady, you are one of them. As glad at heart as they. Still from that open Tomb a voice Is speaking, sweet and strong ; All hearts it summons to rejoice With laughter and with song. 38 MY lady's EASTER Of such a day, a day of grace. The blessings new and old Only a lover s pen can trace, A poet's song unfold. Only the loving heart and true Can rise on Easter wings ; And such a heart God gives to you, A heart that laughs and sings. A spirit-voice you seem to hear. More musical than all ; So every day of every year Your heart keeps festival. The Daughters of Jerusalem Still keep their Easter Day ; The joy, methinks, you share with them Shall never pass away. II IN PRAISE OF HER The Easter sunshine has a voice Whose music without words Bids all the hearts of men rejoice With angels and with birds. MY lady's EASTER 39 The Angels of the Sepulchre Still keep their Easter Day ; My lady too ; I picture her As jubilant as they. Like larks that sing and soar, whose wings Are governed by their song, Her voice uplifts her ; what she sings My heart remembers long. Her life 's a song, her song 's a prayer. Her heart 's a child at play ; So evermore and everywhere With her 'tis Easter Day. 40 RESIGNATION {In Memoriam : Alfred ^ Lord Tennyson) * Our wills are ours, we know not how, Our wills are ours, to make them Thine.' For him the glad discharge has come, Our Poet^ and our eyes are dim With tears ; yet, though we weep for him. This sorrow shall not strike us dumb. Love's vassals sworn, Love's victims sealed. To no blind fate resigned are we, To no capricious destiny, 'Tis to Love's sovereignty we yield. For Resignation is the sign Of Christ, impressed and reimpressed Upon the soul that, doubly blest. Reiterates ' Not mine, but Thine ' To One Who is her Lord and King. Loud is the voice, the message clear, Wherewith the poet and the seer Enforce Love's self-surrendering. RESIGNATION 41 Ah_, 'tis a truth that few confess, That lovers only understand. The heart must lift a wounded hand Life's dearest treasures to possess. But they alone whose hearts are pure, As white as snow, as diamond bright. They, only they, can read aright The meaning of Christ's signature. And what are we ? how, self-betrayed. Can our unworthiness uplift Or hand or heart ? Ah, 'tis the gift. Dear Lord, by Thine acceptance made Not all unworthy ; we would be The victim-vassals of that Will, Which to obey is to fulfil Our love-encompassed destiny. Thy vassals sworn. Thy victims sealed, To no blind fate are we resigned ; Love, love alone, is never blind, And to the King of Love we yield. 42 RESIGNATION The Lord of Life, Death's Vanquisher. Our Poet dies ; there comes a sound Of weeping, and the grief profound For one whose voice had gladdened her Full fifty years, wherewith the heart Of England aches ; so deep a grief, So proud, so chastened, what relief Can soften ? let it not depart. But fructify and penetrate, Until of sorrow joy is born In hearts that, to His service sworn. Love's victory anticipate. Of that ' far-off divine event ' He sang whose eyes in death are dim. And, though we needs must weep for him. The heart of Love is well-content. By Hope is Resignation crowned ; Then Aspiration spreads her wings. The soul, uplifted, soars and sings, Death's loss is lost. Life's fulness found. Fountains Abbey, Oct. 11, 1892. 43 TRANSFIGURATION {In Memoriam : Edward Bouverie Pusey) 'Si on est incapable de gravir soi-meme les hauteurs de la Saintete, il est utile et instructif d'ecouter ceux qui les habitent.' Mrs. Augustus Craven. There are who on the mountain-top abide : Immersed in prayer^ their countenances shine. And from the enkindled heart, a secret shrine, Outflash the flames that they are fain to hide. Above them golden portals open wide. As deep within a golden cup the wine Dispenses that sustains a life divine ; Such succours Love is able to provide. The mountain-side we breast all painfully : This climbing path, so dolorous yet so sweet. Ah, 'tis the path that all the saints have trod. And in their foot-prints we may plant our feet. Be it our joy to see them, and to see That they are gazing on the Face of God. 44 CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE A Sonnet Sequence •Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established ; and by knowledge are the chambers filled with all precious and pleasant riches.' THE NURSERY The House of Life has chambers manifold : Here is a workroom and a playroom there. And some are underground, all dark and bare. And some are bright with colours and with gold ; Some harbour treasures of a worth untold. To study that is sacred, this to prayer. And that to mirth and music ; everywhere Man s busy finger-marks you may behold. One perfumed chamber is the nursery Where happy childhood dances, dreams, and sings; A frolic now, now a solemnity. Their opening life, with shouts and whisperings ; Not without tears, for childish hopes, you see. Are new-fledged birds that, falling, break their wings. CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE 45 II THE ORATORY Not good ! Ah, well I know it is not good To be alone ; yet lonely is the cell Where man with God converses ; — that is well ; All things, if God be known, are understood ; If God be loved, the human brotherhood Is loved in Him in whom all lovers dwell ; Our Cause is His ; he is the infidel Who sees the world unshadowed by the Rood. Unshadowed and unsheltered, unredeemed : Ah, so it seems till faith unveils the eyes. And makes the heart a prophet. ^'Tis not so,' The prophet-voice proclaims, ^ though so it seemed ' ; And to my heart Himself God justifies; Lonely no more, because I love I know. 46 CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE ni THE BALLROOM Linked hands mean much, methinks, and feet that glide. Moving together under music's spell. Soft to invite and potent to compel ; And to repose such movement is allied, A movement graceful with the unconscious pride Of youth's elastic strength. Ah, wish them well ! Lovers betrothed (their names I may not tell) Whose beating hearts make music side by side. Strong be the arm on which her beauty leans ! His be the strength of purity enshrined In a heart true to love's high enterprise, Valiant and gentle ; hers the intrepid mind. That knows what love's sweet self-surrender means ; Be theirs the gladness of linked destinies ! CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE 47 IV THE BRIDAL BOWER The years, months, days, all harbingers have been Of this still hour that breaks so many seals ; The heart perchance is asking what it feels. What means this vision which its eyes have seen. Life's scroll is now unfolded, and between Its treasured hopes and memories there steals A strange and subtle spell, that soothes and heals Those whom Love shelters with her sacred screen. The quest — the holy quest — is but begun : The casket of a woman's heart shall he Presume to search, albeit at Love's behest, And count its secret treasures one by one ? To trembling hands she yields the golden key. Possessing which he is of all possest. 48 CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE THE NEW HOME All lives are His who made the water wine At Cana's feast : O let me picture you To Him, to Love, to one another true. Fulfilling His command — ^ Arise and shine ! ' Should sorrows come, they only shall refine The love. His gift, that makes one life of two — That love which, growing old, is ever new. That Hfe with which all blessings intertwine. Go, build your home upon foundations strong, Adorn it ; light your lamp, and be it fed With golden oil by His hands furnished Who is His children's Succour and Defence. So shall your hearts unite to sing a song You still shall sing what time you journey hence. CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE 49 VI THE BANQUET-HALL 'Take/ 'Eat/ and 'Drink' — words sacred are they all : Treasures of milk and wine, of bread and meat. The honey in the honeycomb so sweet, The golden fruits that ripen till they fall, — Such the rich banquet served by One, whose call A thousand voices day by day repeat, The Ruler of Life's Feast ! His heralds greet And bid all hearts, with His, keep festival. Of loving hearts Himself will be the guest, And, with Himself, He gives us everything, Food to the hungry, to the weary rest. So, with the shepherd boy, we too may sing (Of all the songs he sang the loveliest) ' They nothing lack whom God is shepherding.' D 50 CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE VII THE PLACE OF AFFLICTION Withers the world ; its strongholds are not strong : Not strong enough to stand the shock and blast Of Winter storms ; so soon is overcast The Summer sky, silenced the nuptial song. Alas ! what means it all this wreck and wrong ? Methinks the Future shall redeem the Past, All things, methinks, Love shall retrieve at last That to man's truest, deepest life belong. Perish the homes we dwell in, and among Their ruins grope we, faithless and unwise ; Ah ! 'tis not so Love's fortresses are kept. Home-going pilgrims should rehearse their song ; There, there, methinks, most sweetly smile the eyes Which here, perchance, most bitterly have wept. CHAMBERS IN THE HOUSE OF LIFE 51 VIII THE CHAMBER OF DEATH Ah, 'tis not death brings peace, but life fulfilled, Life amplified^ consolidated, based On sure foundations, evermore embraced By patient Love, whose heart and hands are skilled A perfect house of life to plan and build, A living temple, never built in haste. Upon the altar is a chalice placed. Full to the brim, uplifted and unspilled. Empty the tomb round which Thy children stand : Their eyes are fastened on Thy heavenly cup, Their hands upheld to clasp Thy wounded hand. To Thy pierced heart their hearts are lifted up ; Lord, perfect Thou the work that Thou hast planned. Then at Thy feet may all sit down and sup. 52 'COME, SEE A MAN* Blind, blind are they who say, 'We see': Closed eyes see visions fairer far Than all our waking visions are. And worthier closest scrutiny Than dewy rose or diamond star. Or aught that human eyes can scan — ' Come, see a Man ! * Come, see of men the comeliest. Desired of all nations, strong To rule the storm and right the wrong ; And of life's mystery possest Alone bewildered men among Since their bewilderment began — ' Come, see a Man ! ' Still is the Cross-bearer the King : Where'er His Church her altar rears The plague of darkness disappears, And weepers laugh and mourners sing. Ah ! thorn-bound was His brow, with tears His cheeks were wet. His face was wan — ' Come, see a Man ! ' ^COME, SEE A man' 5^ Uplifted is His Throne, the seat Of Judgment ; searching are His eyes ; The world. His captive and His prize. Lies prostrate at His royal feet. *Tis death that in His Presence dies ; His Sceptre is the winnowing fan — ' Come, see a Man ! ' Upon His judgments we will wait : The sword that smites us will defend ; The Wounds are faithful of the Friend Whose gentleness shall make us great ; In victory His judgments end. What Love alone can do. Love can — ' Behold the Man ! ' Braemar, 1895. 54 POSTPONEMENTS I AN OUTLINE * Of love that never finds his earthly close, What sequel ? ' TENNYSON. 1 A Youth Dreams To your sweet eyes my thanks are due For aught that I have won ; Beckoned by you, a climber too, My heart would homeward run ; Your mounting steps my feet pursue All day till set of sun. 2 A Maiden Dreams Your path is radiant in the sun, Is balmy with the dew ; Your pilgrim-feet are swift to run. Be your heart soft to woo. Perchance another might be won To tread that path with you. AN OUTLINE 55 3 A Priest Pleads Fulfil your life^ to duty true. By love, not self, possest ; A Lordly Lover visits you. Welcome so dear a Guest ; Accept His yoke, His steps pursue. And He will give you rest. 4 An Angel Sings Lost are all losses presently, Hopes, long postponed, come true ; The Bridegroom of the heart is He Whose love makes all things new ; Ah, well-content you both shall be One day, I promise you ! 56 II A PROPOSAL ' I did but taste a little honey . . . and, lo, I must die.' In honour all unstained to live^ Each to each other worship give. And taste the honey that we hive — Beloved, shall we try ? ' But he who tastes that honey dies ' ;- In the sweet heaven of your eyes I see the mist of tears arise ; — So be it, let him die. Love conquers all who threaten her ; Death is of life the minister. Of fuller life the harbinger. And sweeter, by-and-by. The love-light in those tender eyes Gives sanction to the enterprise ; Oh, trust we Love to make us wise And patient, you and I ! 57 III A SECRET * The lily whispers, "I wait." ' TENNYSON. We know our secret, we can wait : — Meanwhile, although my words be few And feeble, let me dedicate These verses, friend, to you. Life shifts and changes day by day. We seem our footsteps to retrace, And early visions fade away ; Love shows a tearful face. To-day beneath these skies so blue. By the blue waters of this lake. Old images themselves renew. Old memories awake. Some tender memories we share Of long ago ; it almost seems A world far off, fantastic, fair. Revisited in dreams. 58 A SECRET Years passed away ; again we met Before the shrine where mourners kneel ; To friendship's compact sorrow set Her consecrating seal. Ah ! hearts may weep, and hearts may bleed, And hearts may break — yet never part, If love survive^ since love indeed Is loyalty of heart. We met once more, as pilgrims meet Who climb one mountain side by side ; Such holy fellowship makes sweet Life's tranquil eventide. Life wanes and waxes year by year. The future must retrieve the past. And faded visions reappear. And love be crowned at last. To-day beside this dreaming lake I dream, recalling bygone times. And offer you for friendship's sake These hesitating rhymes. A SECRET 59 Accept them, — a forget-me-not For one to whom I bid adieu ; Trembles my voice — I know not what It trembles for ; do you ? Entangled in a world of dreams,, The path I follow disappears ; The voice that drowns all others seems To be the voice of tears. Seek we that holy Homestead where Each hand another hand shall hold. Each heart another heart ; — Ah, there Our secret shall be told ! Cadenabbia, 1890. 60 IV A FAREWELL * A Dieu.' My heart can ne'er forget you. Or cease to love you. Sweet ; I thank Him that I met you. Though ne'er again we meet, Whose Goodness waits to set you Beside Him on His seat. And will you then forget me ? Oh, say you will not. Sweet ! Remember, when you met me You vowea again to meet ; Beseech His Love to let me Climb one day to your feet ! 61 TO UNA *Tlie soul's armour is never well set to the heart unless a woman's hand has braced it ; and it is only when she braces it loosely that the honour of manhood fails.' Ruskin. O WOMAN-HEART, magnanimous, defended By dauntless hope, although the sky's overcast; The Cause by thee espoused and commended God shall confirm and vindicate at last ; With such allies they are not unbefriended Who trust His Future to retrieve their Past. Unquenched her lamp, for ever brightly burning, Who sets herself God's mountain to ascend ; Pure is the aim and passionate the yearning Wherewith she seeks love's service to commend ; E'en such an one my thankful heart discerning Greatly rejoices, for she calls me friend. 62 TO ROWENA Methinks from very far away I hear the bells that ring In honour of your marriage-day ; My heart is fain to sing A song that bears^ I know not why. The burden of a prophecy. The bells make music loud and sweet. And oh, how sweet the bride ! And fair the flowers at her feet. The lover by her side ; Unveiled, her smiles and blushes are As radiant as a rosy star. The ring is on her yielded hand. The binding vows are made ; Some covenants for ever stand. Some flowers never fade ; Such promises her lips declare. And such the blossoms in her hair. TO ROWENA 63 But other, deeper, thoughts than these Within my spirit stir ; I see the bride upon her knees. An angel speaks to her ; Her eyes are closed, and clasped her hands, Her heart it is that understands. For such a greeting such a heart Is never unprepared ; The joy it brings shall ne'er depart. Nay, by another shared. It can but deepen, making all Her wedded life a festival. So fair a vision meets my eyes, 'Tis thus I picture you ; Ah ! Love it is that prophesies, — Such prophecies come true. From far away I send you this. And seal it with a poet's kiss. Bbaemar, 1895. 64 TO GERALDINE (To accompany some old verses) Old rhymes they are, and one and all Are dedicate to you ; I find them easy to recall. Not easy to renew. Ah, love's renewal is the thing Which evermore we need ; And evermore, if it would sing. The poet's heart must bleed. They who refuse to rise, must fall. The heart's home is on high ; ' Friends, go up higher ' is the call. We hear it, you and I. And all who hear must needs ascend If they their course pursue ; He climbs who is of friends the Friend, So climb we, I and you. TO GERALDINE 65 Thank God, though eyes are often dim. Though hearts are sometimes cold. The lovely things we share with Him They never can grow old Midsummer Eve, 189«3. 66 FLAXLEY ABBEY THIRTEENTH CENTURY I SEE an ancient Abbey, where Cistercians keep their holy rule. And live the life of toil and prayer In sweet S. Bernard's School. SIXTEENTH CENTURY The times are changed, the Abbey lands Surround a desecrated shrine ; And prayer is hushed, and impious hands Deface the Sacred Sign. NINETEENTH CENTURY Now peace and purity resume Their ancient sway, and, love-enshrined, Sprung from an old monastic tomb, An English home I find. FLAXLEY ABBEY 67 A VOICE FROM THE PAST I HEAR the Angel-watchman cry, ^ His Purpose you may yet fulfil. Whose joy it is to sanctify The vassals of His Will/ Flaxley Abbey, 1891. 68 ARLINGTON MANOR A RIVER through the valley flows, A trout-stream skirts the garden grounds. And hushed are all discordant sounds. It is a haven of repose. Gone are three sisters, parted wide In other homes a home to find ; But still, as gracious and as kind. Two daughters of the house abide. ' Your home still gladden and adorn/ My Muse, saluting you, would say ; ^ Keep vigil first, then holy day. Of discipline is freedom born. ^ By Wisdom taught are they who teach Love's ministry is richly blest ; And ministry the tenderest 'Tis yours to render each to each. ABLINGTON MANOR 69 ' A kingdom grows beneath her feet Whom^ royal-hearted. Love constrains To wait on others ; where she reigns All courtesies are wont to meet. ^ Who wait in patience never miss The prize, nor are they put to shame. So be you worthy of your name. Crowned Helen, sceptred Beatrice.' Ablington Manor, 1893. 70 A HAUNTED HOUSE ( Written in the Visitors* Book) ' A HAUNTED house ! ' their hps proclaim Whose hearts have eyes to see ; The ghost the very hour I came Unveiled herself to me ; Fair is her face, her lovely name Is Hospitality. 71 SALUTATIONS * We wish you good luck, in the Name of the Lord.' I TO THE SORROWFUL {Concerning the Life Everlasting) Years (though life be short) are long If the heart be lonely ; Should I try to sing, the song Seems an echo only. Days (though fast the years depart) Tedious seem and dreary ; Must love wait ? The waiting heart Cannot but grow weary. Hours (though days so quickly pass) Seem at times so endless. When a heart forlorn, alas ! Fancies itself friendless. 72 SALUTATIONS Hours, days, years are, one and all, Fields for cultivation. Till a Harvest Festival Brings a consummation. God His purpose shall fulfil ; We, that purpose sharing, Waiting, working, weeping, still May not be despairing. God His promise will redeem To the very letter ; Things are never what they seem. Oh, but how much better ! Braver, blither, be my song. Love's design forecasting ; Time is measured — short or long. Life is everlasting ! SALUTATIONS 73 II TO CHILDREN AT PLAY {Concerning the Stars) The Stars, they twinkle, dance and sing, And this is what they seem to say — ' We do by night the very thing You happy children do by day ; The meadows with your laughter ring, We foot it in the Milky Way, And life is sweet, for Love is King, So all our work is play/ III TO MEN AT WORK (Concerning the Quest of the Holy Grail) Where'er the Gospel message goes The Mystic River overflows. Ah ! 'tis an oft-told tale ! More clear its lovely meaning grows. And he who knows its meaning knows The wonder of the Grail. 74 SALUTATIONS Blossoms the desert as a rose, The light with which the Chalice glows Shall never more grow pale ; Its secret may our lives disclose. The secret only known to those Who seek and find the Grail. TO THE BELOVED {Concerning the Present and the Future) Our hearts, methinks, whene'er we meet Are lifted on the wings of prayer, Awaiting fellowship more sweet Hereafter, otherwhere. So meeting, even here and now. Each to the other may protest To live in hope, in love to grow, E'en now and here is blest. Meanwhile God's River overflows Its banks ; with each revolving year The star of Hope more radiant grows. The sky of Love more clear. SALUTATIONS 75 At last shall dawn a day of grace. And robed in grace shall be thy soul ; Oh, may I kiss the Hands that place On thee thy aureole ! Saluted by His gracious word, And by His patient love embraced. Nor eye nor ear hath seen or heard What then our hearts shall taste. Learn we meanwhile His Name to greet, To know His Love, His Life to share ; Oh, if the foretaste be so sweet What, what will it be there ? 76 CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI Long years a singer thou at heaven's gate. Which now has opened wide to let thee through. The Bridegroom's feet so eager to pursue. So willing, should it be His Will, to wait. Our stricken hearts with joy anticipate The song that thou wilt sing, so old, so new. When He, to thee, as thou to Him, so true. Thy minstrelsy shall reinaugurate. Methinks I see, low kneeling at thy feet. One who uplifts to thee his tearful gaze ; To celebrate the birthday of a soul His harp makes trembling music, soft and sweet ; Thy song shall lift his singing into praise. No hand but his shall paint thy aureole. New Year's Day, 1895. 77 BEFORE AND AFTER CULLODEN He draws his weapon from its sheath^ And bids her kiss the blade, And fondly vows, come life, come death, His heart is hers. The maid Blushes and smiles to hear the vow. — Where are those smiles and blushes now ? She takes her lute ; the trembling strings Make music in her hands ; And sweetly, tenderly, she sings A song he understands. 'Tis thus she gives him vow for vow. — Alas, those lips are silent now ! Lost is the battle ; ne'er again She sees her lover's face. Until she finds him with the slain, A ghastly trysting-place 1 Breaks her brave heart, so true, so sweet, — One blood-stained plaid their winding-sheet ! Braemar, 1895. 78 THE RENEWAL OF YOUTH A Grandfathers Soliloquy I KNOW it — I am growing old. My beard is turning white ; Beholding me you shall behold A very sorry sight. I 've parted with my hunters for A donkey and a cow ; I never bag a partridge, nor Cajole a salmon now. No more I handle bat or ball ; I am not one of those Who battle round the wickets ; all I ask for is repose. The breezy links I never tread. No caddies wait on me ; I 'm always glad to go to bed ; I never go to sea. THE RENEWAL OF YOUTH 79 I never take a hand at whist, I never touch a cue ; From sonnet-writing I desist, And novels I eschew. You '11 never find me on the wheels Careering round about ; I hold in awe the man who feels Indifferent to gout. I never linger in the wet Where moon-struck lovers wait ; I 'm very constantly in debt ; I 'm sadly out of date. I never take a moonlight walk ; I ne'er invoke a star ; I hate a confidential talk ; I 've broken my guitar. I have no heart to touch the strings ; I neither smile nor sigh ; The enterprising milkman sings A blither song than I. 80 THE RENEWAL OF YOUTH A Rosalind I never meet In woodland walks^ or hear Of Philomel the warble sweet, The shout of Chanticleer. They never, never call to me Maud's ' high hall-garden ' birds ; No Juliet from her balcony Greets my impassioned words. And at the Play I 'm fast asleep Before the Second Act ; I know not how to laugh or weep — Not ' up to date/ in fact. That life's a played-out game I see, A manifold mistake ; I shoot^ I fish, no more ; for me No hounds their music make. I 'm growing stiff, I *m growing old ; My beard's already white; Beholding me you shall behold A lamentable sight. THE RENEWAL OF YOUTH 81 And what is coming who can tell ? Things are not what they seem. Sometimes the welcome dinner-bell Awakes me from a dream That leaves me tickled with the thought (It never can come true) That to my dotage may be brought What shall my youth renew. The stars are falling from my sky, The ashes from my pipe. — What's this ? From a reluctant eye A briny tear I wipe ! How 's this ? I feel a man again. Awake, alert, elate ; My heart with an ecstatic pain Begins to palpitate. Methinks to my beseeching voice There comes a soft reply. Bidding a bankrupt heart rejoice ;- A Grandfather am I ! 82 THE RENEWAL OF YOUTH And^ all my youth renewed, methinks Some daring deed I '11 do ; My smi has risen ; ere it sinks. Darling, I '11 kneel to you. To toy-shops let me speed in haste. And, reckless, let me buy Some gaudy thing to suit the taste Of crowing Infancy. Ah ! nevermore my heart shall brood. Each dimple I '11 caress ; Such is the charm of Babyhood, And such my — youthfulness ! ss A CHRISTMAS LETTER (To Stella) Fairy postman^ fly to Stella, Fan her with your wings, and tell her. Children when they 're ill in bed Have the Holy Angels near them ; Should she listen, she might hear them Whispering, ' Be comforted/ And there 's Mother's love to bless her. Gladden, cherish and caress her ; Oh, more precious this than all ! Save God's love whence all love floweth, Love that, wheresoe'er it goeth. Bids the heart keep festival. Here 's a silver crown for Stella ; Kiss her hand for me, and tell her Of the Christmas star that smiled On the path that Eastern sages Made for pilgrims of all ages To the Cradle of a Child, 84 A CHRISTMAS LETTER Let US allj their steps pursuing, Seek to do what they are doing, Treading in the path they trod ; KneeHng in that lowly stable, Sing as loud as we are able Praises to the Love of God. Fairy postman, fly to Stella, Sweetly kiss her lips, and tell her Silver 's prettier than gold ; Tell her there is something better Than a post-card or a letter, Love that never can grow old. Christmas Eve, 1894. 85 PHANTOMS I THE ECHOES The echo is a shameless sprite : Its mocking repetition Confounds the man whose words excite Competitive derision. It never speaks unless addressed ; And^ whatsoe'er your choice is. It can both laugh and sigh, possessed Of half a hundred voices. Each voice a hundred answers gives When challenged by the seeker ; Of self-possession it deprives The most accomplished speaker. By his own words confronted when He feared no opposition. There are in truth not many men Whose words bear repetition. 86 THE ECHOES In stolen goods the vagrant deals. On phantom- wings it flutters ; A disembodied voice, it steals Each syllable it utters. Ah ! many mocking ghosts among, This works the most confusion ; But, if you only hold your tongue. You 're safe from its intrusion. Braemar, 1895. 87 II THE SHADOWS The shadows, they are phantom-flowers Begotten of the light ; They blossom all the sun-lit hours. They wither in the night. They come and go without a sound, They flutter and they fall ; They are not rooted in the ground. Light-footed dancers all. They lengthen out at dawn of day. And when the sun goes down ; Sportive and fitful, in their play They can both smile and frown. If shadowed be the life we live Betwixt the day and night, The shadows this assurance give — They guarantee the light. Whitby, 1895. 88 GOD'S INTERLUDES ' Life seems so long, and its capacity so great, to one who knows nothing of all the intervals it needs must hold— intervals between aspirations, between actions, pauses as inevitable as the pauses of sleep. And life looks impossible to the young unfortunate, unaware of the inevitable and unfailing refreshment.' Alice Meynell. I KNEW a man who, resting on his way. Was wont to babble : thus I heard him say — ' The House of Life has many a waiting-room As pass we from the cradle to the tomb ; And many are the still unopened gates Where Patience, taught of Wisdom, knocks and waits. Each crisis brings a pause, and pauses bring No little succour to the wavering. Who waver not because the will is weak. Nor yet because they find not what they seek. But for this cause — things are entangled so That what to seek they do not clearly know. god's interludes 89 True knowledge comes of vision ; Faith discerns The good towards which the heart obscurely yearns ; Ah ! life is still their prize who clearly see One through whose Love alone their destiny Is known and compassed ; His the Lover s eyes Whose light reveals, approves, life's enterprise. ' Where part the ways, we needs must pause and ask Which is the path appointed, what the task. Or should long-cherished hopes all frustrate prove, And ruin overtake the homes we love. When spectres haunt the once familiar place, Ah then, to soothe the heart, the will to brace. Till once again life's frozen river thaws And Winter's grasp relaxes, we must pause. By no such pause is vital progress stayed ; Rather by haste their footsteps are delayed To whom the hush of night no message brings. Who care not for the song the Silence sings. Who hive no honey, lacking time to pray. Nor gather manna for the desert way. ' There comes a pause at last ; and oh, how sweet To wounded hearts, to weary hands and feet. To all who struggle with fast-failing breath. The salutation of God's angel, Death ! What time she stoops and lifts us to her breast. And we, life's fever-fit arrested, rest. 90 god's interludes Nay, *tis not Death, 'tis Life that plays the part Of nursing angel with a mother s heart : Consoled, entranced, a spirit-voice we hear That sweetly whispers to the inner ear. The voice of one who dreams, of one who broods, '' Mayhap such pauses are God's interludes." ' 'Twas thus the babbler spake, and went his way, I put on record what I heard him say. Melrose, Michaelmas 1895. Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press BY THE ^'AME AUTHOR. Crown Svo, cloth , price ^s. THE VISION OF THE EUCHARIST, and Other Poems. ' No one surely has ever elucidated more happily, or ex- pressed in richer or more glowing verse, the wonderful beauty of his theme — the Holy Eucharist.' — Literary Churchman. ' The Rev. Alfred Gurney has considerable poetic power, and a more than ordinary depth of feeling. . . . Many of the pieces are unusually thoughtful, and of course a thoroughly Catholic spirit pervades them. If it were only for the few notes at the end, some of which are very strik- ing, the volume would be worth possessing.' — Church Times, ' Some very beautiful poems, breathing a truly Catholic spirit. . . . Considered artistically or theologically they are of high merit. . . . The book is one fitted to be a good companion to the Christian Year.' — Morning Post. ' We have before us a choice volume of poems. . . . We most heartily commend this graceful volume of poems to our readers.' — English Churchman. ' Pronounced as Mr. Gurney's own views are, there is a catholicity of tone about the volume which should disarm prejudice. . . . Mr. Gurney is a bold and original thinker.' — Sussex Daily News. Small Crown Svo, 55, VOICES FROM THE HOLY SEPULCHRE, and Other Poems. ' The volume is the production of a devout and cultured mind, with a decided bent towards the gentler and more tender aspects of truth, and a delight in its sweetness and joy. ' — Freeman. 'These "voices" with their graceful fancies whisper of hope and comfort, and will be welcomed in many a sad- dened home. ' — John Bull. 'It is dedicated "with a brother's love" to the memory of Edmund Gurney, and has for frontispiece a reproduction from Mr. F. Shields's delightful painting of the ' ' Women Worshipping in the Garden of the Sepulchre," a picture painted specially for Mr. Gurney's church in Pimlico.' — Pall Mall Gazette. Small Crown Svo, 5^. A CHRISTMAS FAGGOT. 'A beautiful book, powerfully and gracefully written.' — /okn Bull. ' Mr. Gurney has evidently been a good deal under the influence of that earlier phase of Rossetti's art — both in painting and poetry — which dallied with spiritual mysticism, and sought to give them a visible embodiment.' — Academy. Crown Svo, ^s. THE STORY OF A FRIENDSHIP. ' Mr. Gurney writes as an orthodox thinker, but with the mystical tendency strong upon him. He is a lover of letters, and his chosen authors are evidently those who have had a keen sense of the unreaUty of the phenomenal universe — a Boehme, an Emerson, and a Wordsworth. Some verses scattered up and down Mr. Gurney' s pages show that he himself merits a respectable place among minor poets. His prose style is graceful and refined, and his ethical doctrine singularly pure and elevated.' — Manchester Guar- ' The vehicle of many mystical and beautiful thoughts on religion and art, the story itself being of the slightest. The book necessarily appeals to a limited circle, for it is a prose poem, a spiritual romance ; but we doubt not that those who can read it sympathetically will confess themselves greatly indebted to the Rev. Alfred Gurney.' — Church Times. * Here and there verses of a devotional character are intercalated between the prose chapters. These enhance the effect of the book as one which seeks to recommend abstruse reasonings and lofty flights of thought by dressing them up with purely literary graces.' — Scotsman. ' A beautifully written book, full of mystical teaching.' — Guardian. Second Edition, Fcap. Svo, is. 6d. WAGNER'S PARSIFAL : A Study. * In his study of Wagner's Parsifal, Mr. Alfred Gurney exhibits a thorough appreciation of the master's art without any of that insanity which has distinguished so many of his admirers.' — Saturday Review. KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Ltd. LOAN PERIOD 1 '- ^ HOME USE All BOOKS MAY BE RECAllED AFTER 7 DAYS Book» moy be Renewod by coriino 642-3405. DUE AS STAMPPn rc^qw" mt.'hW. Moiz^mi )RM NO. DD6, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA BERKELEY BERKELEY. CA9479n