THE CLOUDS 
 
PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. 
 AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
THE CLOUDS 
 
 ■ by 
 CHARLES M. DOUGHTY, M.A. 
 
 Hon. Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge 
 Hon. D.Litt., Oxford 
 
 London 
 
 DUCKWORTH & CO. 
 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. 
 
 1912 
 
How long will ye rest careless and at ease, 
 That are unweary ; O negligent young men ? 
 When will ye any valour show of heart, 
 In sight of neighbour Nations? Be ye not 
 Ashamed yet to be naught ? Or haply ye hope, 
 Yourselves to dwell in solace and secure ; 
 When wars have overthrown everywhere the round 
 Earth ! 
 
 Kallinos^. 
 
 Fight will we willingly, for our Mother State, 
 And for our children : unto peril of death, 
 Offer our bodies. 
 
 Warriors, let no faint 
 Desire of life, your generous souls oppress ! 
 
 Tyrtaios^. 
 ' VII Cent. B.C. 
 
 oai 1 I'l 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Proeme i 
 
 The Muses' Garden 6 
 
 Easthampton Burned 21 
 
 Ely 32 
 
 In the way to Stamford 39 
 
 Towards the Valley of the Dove 49 
 
 Sister Gertrude 62 
 
 A Book of the Sacred Band 75 
 
 Nighing Home 89 
 
 Carpenters Come Home 97 
 
 Wayfaring towards Wales 106 
 
 Carpenters Last Journey 113 
 
 Penmor, in Wales 121 
 
 Supper Talk 131 
 
 Help from Overseas 138 
 
PROEME 
 
 A Land of Slumbering! Wherefore sleepest Thou thus? 
 The Negligent Isle is longtime lulled to sleep : 
 A palsy in Her senile members creeps. 
 
 In what puttest Thou Thy trust, that slumberest thus? 
 And dreamest on careless, midst Thy strong armed enemies ! 
 Whilst they which hate Thee, sharpen their bright glaives, 
 On the hard whetstones ; and their sound is heard. 
 In the whole World ! and still Thou sleepest on thus. 
 
 Is Thy day night, that all within Thee sleep? 
 Men daze, all drowse. That Sun hath not yet risen ; 
 When shall, from Britains field, waft morning breath, 
 Of patriot spirit: whose sons grow up untaught 
 First duty of citizen manhood ; which is, that 
 Each with his fellows should defend the State; 
 This Foster Soil, which brought their fathers forth. 
 
 Antiphony. They which stand idle, do Her a disservice. 
 Count not them Britains Citizens, that will not 
 Bear public burdens, arms and weariness ; 
 Yield service of themselves, for Countrys sake ! 
 
 The World to be a cherry-fair, wont such deem : 
 And few are found, to take them by the hand. 
 Or speak word, which in season precious is. 
 
 Who use, in froward ignorance, the new sons 
 Of Redeless Ethelred, with fool-happy looks ; 
 To despise strangers; shall be made to serve them. 
 
2 THE CLOUDS 
 
 In their own England. Who would not, time was, 
 Defend their own : conscribed therein, by lot ; 
 Shall their proud Conquerors lead hence, (war-worn 
 War-wasted Land of funerals then,) to fight. 
 In foreign wars of theirs abroad ; (as hath 
 Been seen here yore^! on the Main Continent: 
 Where in some quarrel, which is none of theirs ; 
 Those Englishmen born, being now compelled to fight ; 
 Shall perish miserably, by reproachful deaths. 
 
 Unready and unarmed multitude, shall be cast 
 Away, in dark hour of their Lands distress. 
 A man as soon might hope to win a race; 
 Whose body is uninured, through daily course. 
 And shall be the severity of the stroke, 
 Such, that like herb in frost, shall faint mens hearts : 
 They stare shall one on other, and lose breath ! 
 None shall be able, in mother-tongue that day; 
 To speak for sorrow; or look up to heaven. 
 
 A Land of Trembling! yet a little, and shall 
 The Life of this great Nation be suspended. 
 Can, seeing Her insecurity, our true hearts 
 Take no more rest : nay, and even these stuttering lips 
 Must, midst the Assembly of my People, speak. 
 
 We are become a Spectacle, to the men 
 Of other Nations. Britain, for Her seventh 
 Invasion is now ripe, yea, and overripe : 
 And is that like to come out of the East ; 
 (From whence flows wind, which bloweth to no man good !) 
 
 Antiphony. With Whom shalt Thou find Refuge ? when 
 once more ; 
 (And wast Thou given a respite for long Season !) 
 A People of harsh speech, our Adversaries, 
 Shall mount up glittering, from Thy blood-stained shore: 
 
 1 Maximus, pretender to the imperial purple; a.d. 387. 
 
PROEME 
 
 And thence, like to vast folding Wave, begin 
 To whelm on Thy fair Plain, O unready Britain ! 
 
 For this the foreheads furrowed o'er with care, 
 Now of the prudent and wiseseeing are : 
 And searchings are of heart, in straitened breasts. 
 
 Antiphony. Is our souls' grief, joy to our enemies ! 
 Sorrow and heaviness, like an Autumn mist, 
 Sink on mens spirits : men commune, with bowed heads, 
 Under their breaths, and every heart doth faint. 
 
 A Land undone ! It is that sickly hour. 
 Before outrageous flame of homicide war, 
 Attain us ; which must ravin in our midst : 
 Nor any pause be of manslaying arms, 
 From that day forth : till fallen be the Lands youth. 
 
 A Land of Sighing! shall be vast lament: 
 Yet less were all than able to express, 
 In Her souls anguish, Britains last distress. 
 
 What marvel, if Isle Britains soil, once more 
 Invaded were? wherein so manifest scars, 
 Of wounds received, in many former wars, 
 Remain! Where is not of the Invaders foot; 
 Reaving, manslaying, burning, as he went ; 
 Some token in Britains earth ? What English march 
 Is there ; whereas some hill-top is not crowned. 
 With old fossed rampires of invader armies ? 
 Mounds of war-slain bear witness everywhere. 
 
 What plain, what valley or steep or hill, is there; 
 Which sometime hath not, in past ages, sounded. 
 With dinning tumult of conflicting armies ? 
 (Where, for the mastery, men with men contended, 
 Of Island Britain,) to the stars of heaven ! 
 
 Invasion on Invasion ! Where is any 
 Furlong of Englands soil, which sometime hath 
 
4 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Not supped corruption of mens battle-wounds ; 
 
 Where strove invading swarms ? What homely river 
 
 Hath not, choked, stained, from slaughter-field, multitude 
 
 Down rolled of mens war-murdered carcases ? 
 
 Nay, and we which, Englishmen now, be homeborn here ; 
 
 Are sons of war-wrongs, which before-time were ! 
 
 Your eyelids slumber ! doth War sleep therefore ? 
 What is your Confidence, a vain dream of sleep, 
 A painted vision; semblance, without substance. 
 
 As when burnt-hill, whose fires, long ages spent, 
 Quite out of mind, had seemed us rest in death ; 
 Burst, with new fury immane, forth on Earths face ; 
 Of new, rains ruin ! from his hellish pit : 
 So, though War sleep an hundred-years or twain ; 
 Revived, rewakened in His bloody tomb ; 
 War will, mongst Worlds new Nations, rage again. 
 
 War, hell of mans devising; whence babes are 
 Made orphans, wives left widows. War shall slay 
 Five times ten thousand men, the flower of Britain ; 
 In His first days. Then shortly shall be changed ; 
 (Whereof a memory only shall remain ;) 
 Your Liberty to ENDURING Servitude! 
 
 An Isle of Conquest! Five times, foreign war, 
 Nay and six times, Britains Isle hath overwon. 
 What folly is that strange fantasy then of yours ; 
 That fight for England Gods eternal stars ! 
 
 In what, be Englishmen more than other men, 
 Of foreign soil? or than their fathers were? 
 But when ; (answer, gainsayers, if ye can !) 
 Have they repulsed invader alien armies ? 
 
 Were they not six times utterly undone? 
 Vanquished and dispossessed, thralled, servants made, 
 In this Home Soil, to strange invading enemies ? 
 And, in those fathers' loins, ye yourselves were. 
 
 How boasted thou thyself, son of a Jute, 
 
PROEME 5 
 
 Angle or Saxon shipman ! Was not then 
 Thy mother a bondswoman of this Isle ; 
 Saved, when her vanquished kinsmen had been slain ? 
 Thine uncles Northway pirates? Thy step-sires 
 Strong pirates, from next overlying Main ? 
 Whose tongue, is much-what that, which mouth thou 
 speakest ! 
 
 Ye ; which have not yet known Worlds Nations' strife ; 
 Nor breathed Wars breath : which have not learned the 
 
 Story, 
 Of your own Soil ; nor wot, in every place. 
 Where ye dwell softly ; how there the old grave-pits, 
 Of bloody invading wars, lie digged beneath ; 
 At least, refrain your lips, from cavilling speech : 
 And if ye deem, may England be defended, 
 By doing naught ; ye be yourselves descended. 
 Into the Land of Night, before your deaths ! 
 
 Open your eyes that slumber ! dayspring shines : 
 A new light is wide-shining on the World ! 
 
 Awaken, make you ready, in whose true hearts, 
 A love of Country creeps ; before the like 
 Calamities, which befell our sires, befall us. 
 
 For, as hath Tide of Conquest here o'erflowed, 
 More times than there be fingers on mans hand : 
 So unwares, in these days. War may ruin on us. 
 
 God shield ! that were that Proverb spoken of us ; 
 (Land of Illusions, Civil Discord, Strife :) 
 There came an hotmd, whiles they were so wroth ; 
 And bare away the bone, fro7n them both. 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 
 
 There is an Holy Mountain lifted up, 
 Above the World, which by degrees of steeps. 
 Coasts, cliffy brinks of flinty ribbed rocks. 
 Ascends from centered Earths uneven face ; 
 To utmost Spire, empty of living breath : 
 Whereon Heavens sempiternal Stars do rest. 
 
 On her pure pinnacles of silent snow ; 
 Mens prayers alight, that poise up to high place; 
 Whence borne, of infinite wings of angels bright ; 
 They, in trembling, enter in Heavens starry gates. 
 
 Each Sun on those cloud-cleaving Towers, which mounts, 
 Looks, ere the day springs, on a lower World : 
 And last, when Earth-world glooming, evening is. 
 And an unfolding Vision thence appears, 
 Of things far-off, ere risen on Earth-fields ground. 
 
 The gods had, in that sacred Hills midheight ; 
 A Garden planted, of ambrosial breath ; 
 With water channels clear, with murmur soft. 
 
 Thereto the blessed Muses wont resort; 
 To hear the heavens eternal harmonies ; hymns, 
 Of warbeling winds, and waters' tumbling sound. 
 The Sisters there, which Daughters of the Sun, 
 Be named, incede, divine ; their foreheads crowned 
 With leaves of bays, with gracious pace of doves ; 
 Playing on golden wires, which in their hands: 
 Singing, Soul-ravishing, in sweet accord 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 7 
 
 Their virgin lips, arcane immortal words ; 
 Which well up in their hearts, of heavens light: 
 Wherein is the forgetfulness of grief. 
 
 The cliffs make to them answer, from on height, 
 Whereby they pass ; whence seem their heavenly notes, 
 To fall again ; like voices from the gods. 
 
 With them, linked their white-shining arms in fere; 
 (Fair each one as a Dawn, when having crowned 
 Her dewy lightning locks, with fret of gold. 
 And roses red, on Earths brow, she treads forth ;) 
 Their virgin Sister Graces wont to trace ; 
 In raiment white, as each had been a bride ; 
 All wearing peerless lilies in their hands. 
 
 Upon the Muses and the Graces, wait 
 A maiden troop, to do their ladies' bests ; 
 With fillets bound of gold, their jacinth locks ; 
 That sunbeams seem, down-railing from their napes ; 
 Wherewith winds wavering breath doth gently play. 
 
 Their joyous carols, those before them tress ; 
 Much like the eternal sea-floods running foot. 
 With silver glistering waves, melodious ; 
 Dancing in measure, on some Summer strand. 
 
 They, where the sacred Sisters list to rest, 
 In hour of noontide heat, wont solace make; 
 (Whiles divine laughter blossoms on their lips ;) 
 With cither and shrill pipe, for their delight. 
 Other, their gracious measures of swift feet, 
 Withholding, gather amaranthine flowers, 
 Which do there grow, into their dainty laps ; 
 And chaplets wreathe, for those immortal brows. 
 
 Few souls, in border of that Paradise, 
 Of death-purged blameless sons-of-men be seen ; 
 Whose eyes once washed the Muses in their well ; 
 Whence those their nourselings named, on living ground; 
 Whom sith have they preferred with them to dwell. 
 
THE CLOUDS 
 
 There rest they happy spirits, disbodied of 
 Their mortal clay, bove Twilight of the World : 
 And from the stars descends, to give them Light, 
 After the Sun, by night, a golden cloud. 
 Souls lifted up, through love and high insight ; 
 They dwell, by Tongues and Nations, in the Mount. 
 
 In fair ascending craig of that Hills breast, 
 Shaped like some Temple-stairs, white, radious. 
 Of spotless marble-stone, upon the Earth ; 
 With myrtle sweet and laurel-rose, adorned ; 
 Sit Olen, Orpheus and antique priest-bards. 
 
 Midst whom, on incorruptible Throne of gold ; 
 Which vowed Worlds ages have to him alone, 
 Above the rest ; sits semblant of a man, 
 In whom Breath was of the immortal gods: 
 And him each Grace, and every Sister Muse, 
 With high immortal hands, have deathless crowned. 
 
 His words, that are an heaven in our ears ! 
 Yet odours breathe of never-fading flowers ; 
 Kindling mens hearts, after thrice thousand years, 
 To glorious high emprise : and shall, whilst shines 
 From heaven this Sun, on earthly men, perdure. 
 
 Tyrtaios, Simonides, Pindaros, stand around, 
 In their degrees : stands Sappho, laurel-crowned. 
 With maiden mild Erinna, hand in hand. 
 
 Men of great reach, saw I there musing pace, 
 Sequestered in steep paths ; whose soaring spirits, 
 Born in derne fleshly slime of sin and death, 
 (A well of darkness ;) sought, how might they purge 
 Their being distempered, drowned, and gather light : 
 In riddle of Earth-world, the Eternal Mind, 
 To read : (Empedocles, sad Heraclitus, 
 And Thales saw I walk, with other more :) 
 Whence those were raised to heaven, after their deaths; 
 And in the Muses' Garden, they converse. 
 
 And crowned stand elders of that trasric Band : 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 9 
 
 The honour of the World, which was and is ; 
 Whom sacred City of Pallas once brought forth. 
 
 And antique heroes hearken, in prowd arms ; 
 (Whose blood from gods' immortal seed derives ; 
 Whence Majesty, in their great looks!) unto that BLIND: 
 Whose mind is as a Deep, of Heavens Light ; 
 But whose dark eyeballs, under rugged brows, 
 Not well regard ; who chants new heaven-born lays. 
 
 With grave tempestuous sound, of divine throat ; 
 Those taking up, the burden of each verse ; 
 Do, with his deathless numbers, make resound, 
 From hour to hour, the everlasting rocks. 
 
 Nor more Astraia, clear star-bright heavenly Maid, 
 Daughter of Peace ; that in a World of Gold, 
 Like smile of Summer gladness, once conversed. 
 And mortals blessed ; whence did all good redound ; 
 (But Evil entering, she, as grieved, again 
 Fled back to Heaven, where henceforth she doth rest ;) 
 Disdains down-lighting, from her crystal chariot ; 
 To walk with souls once mortal, in that Place. 
 
 Souls, of divine insight, Seers on the Earth, 
 These things perceive, as shadows in a glass ; 
 And other passing strange, which flit before 
 Their musing thought ; full hard, as dream of sleep, 
 That fades, to be pourtrayed in waking speech. 
 
 Past perfumed Coast of cedar-trees beyond. 
 Whose buds be living gold ; midst rising grounds. 
 Are flowery Lawns ; wide-watered by the wells, 
 Of heaven. Behold, on an hill-brow apart ; 
 (Is Sunfield that bent named, where footsteps winged. 
 Be heard of unseen Gods ;) dwell Britain bards. 
 Passed from Worlds life. On daisy sod, some rest ; 
 Some lean on primrose banks : some sit, where seats 
 Rise, like degrees, in compass of green turves. 
 
 And there be bowers of breathing eglantine. 
 
THE CLOUDS 
 
 Entrailed with blissful honeysuckle twine ; 
 
 Which leaps from bough to bough, with flowering arms ; 
 
 Whence garlands in the sunlight, sweet, depend. 
 
 There Caedmon, bowed-down on his herdmans staff; 
 Where dewy shadows nourish the fresh grass : 
 Yet Vision sees of God. Him seems, he hears 
 Songs of those holy angels, in the field ; 
 Which he, in Saxon speech, bequeathed to us. 
 
 And walks there, lodestar of our English tongue, 
 Dan Galfred ; in whose worthy hand, a book. 
 With golden leaves, his Muses song; whereon 
 He looketh, oft pensive smiling ; whiles he goeth. 
 
 To himward, cometh one musing, from nigh grove ; 
 A gentle spirit, breathing from above ; 
 (A gentler spirit was there never none ;) 
 Dear nourseling of a virgin Muses breast ; 
 The Prince of Britain poets ; who meditates, 
 Communing with himself, his laurel verse. 
 
 Seemed then new springing wind, Eolian hymns, 
 In cedars breathe ; that, cast their boughs together, 
 Gave a sweet smell, as of divine abodes, 
 (Past fleshly seeing,) which in those heavenly places : 
 On Spenser fell then impulse from the gods : 
 And rapt, midst woodbined path, he fromward passed. 
 
 (Dear Master Edmund, since from thy pined flesh. 
 Thou wast unbound ; is fallen thy matchless Muse ; 
 Alas the while ! on many evil days : 
 Wherein, as waxed untuneable ; can mens ears. 
 Now, no more savour thy celestial lays !) 
 
 Oft as reached thither air-borne echoing voice, 
 Chant of chaste Muses, answering one another, 
 From their nigh Pleasance ; leapt upon his feet, 
 Some Britain bard, translated from Worlds life ; 
 Labouring with sacred fury, his chest oppressed ; 
 And oracles he, of panting heart, poured forth. 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN ii 
 
 Moreover to the Muses' heavenly Seats, 
 Few pious souls, which not yet Gate have passed, 
 Of Death, to Life, be suffered to approach ; 
 And to behold that Gardens sovereign sight. 
 ****** 
 
 One such, of many least, a Vates sate ; 
 (Colin, the Prentice of thine heavenly skill ;) 
 Whose soul had Love of Country lifted up. 
 By a plough-land path, in solitude, the man sate, 
 Leaned to an antique oak ; on that cliff-brink 
 Of Britain, which toward Eastland, turns his face : 
 There daylong sighing sate, till the Sun set. 
 And fell dim night around. The trembling chords 
 Seemed of his dreaming instrument, then to wake : 
 As kneeling on his knees, with voice demiss ; 
 He mourned unto himself, with strife of heart ; 
 (The fraud of men, and injury of heaven,) 
 Destruction of his Country ; which forewarned 
 Him had fatidic Muse, to be at hand. 
 
 To him, sith slumbering, beneath cold stars. 
 Of firmament ; for fasting weariness ; 
 A Messenger, handmaid of the Muse, descended ; 
 Thou Weeper! cried, (with soul-compelling voice;) 
 Rise up ! And as she lifted by the hand ; 
 An inward light inlumined his dark spirit. 
 
 With strength, whereto may no mans power resist, 
 More than might child contrast his mothers force ; 
 She in Vision led him, towards that mountains foot ; 
 Which round is girt with wide deceitful fen ; 
 Wherein lie drenched malignant multitude, 
 Of stinging worms. Were they Worlds envious voices ; 
 Which, being un winged, might not themselves reach 
 
 thither ; 
 Nor would those suffer fledged souls to flit over. 
 Full all of chirking, was that sorry Coast, 
 With pauses ; like to waves, that rise and fall. 
 
12 THE CLOUDS 
 
 But to that mount, may only souls attain, 
 Whom it hath pleased a deathless Muse to choose : 
 Such one, Her messengers hand leads, by strait bridge ; 
 Which spended, midst the elemental Steep, 
 Like floating gossamer hangs, so fine it is, 
 From plain to height ; else seemeth it bridge of glass. 
 
 That messenger of the Muses had diffused, 
 (Bearing sheen laurel bough, her other hand,) 
 A golden mist around ; whiles, by that bridge 
 Of dread, we passed. Thence, by great steeps, we went; 
 Ascending in them, without weariness ; 
 Which passed, we entered in dim sacred grove ; 
 Whence rose grave dinning noise of waterbrooks. 
 
 Then stayed her feet, she straight that mist discussed ; 
 And, lo, a Temple, (whence Incense fuming, doth 
 Embalm the World,) on high forhanging cliff! 
 Made of one shining stone. And issued forth, 
 On the degrees, an ever-blessed One. 
 
 And bade the Muse, for such indeed she was ; 
 (In an astonishment, I was fallen down, 
 On lowest stair, to kiss her sacred feet;) 
 That were mine eyes washed in the fleeting brook. 
 
 But come up, from that well ; meseemed, twixt Earth 
 And heaven, I viewed new World, in gazing forth ! 
 Not erewhile seen, as an abiding Vision. 
 Again the sacred Muse vouchsafed to speak ; 
 What Soil is that thou lookest on, of Worlds face? 
 
 Vates. Ha, Lady, Isle Britain ; whence I drew my breath. 
 
 Muse. 'T is well ; seeing that am I the Muse of Britain : 
 Wherefore I mourn, with deep hearts sorrowing, 
 Beholding nigh, which may not be eschewed, 
 Her Destiny ! except the Eternal it release ; 
 Moved by the Intercession of pure lips. 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 13 
 
 Vates. Britain, by flitting shadows, darkened is, 
 Lady ; as flecked oft seen is sea-floods face, 
 From cliff; neath hanging skies, in a sunlight! 
 
 Muse. Vast wings of flying Perverse Spirits, thou seest 
 Risen from Hell-pit, to Her undoing, they haste : 
 Forerunning WAR, those overshadow Her : 
 War, that now cometh : before whose Dreadful Face, 
 (Wherefore Heavens Blessed Ones, avert their looks;) 
 Goeth thunder, lightning-flame, and noisome smoke : 
 Behind Him fall a breathing multitude cold ! 
 
 In War, the murder-fiends manifold impious hands, 
 Be arrows infinite, of untimely death. 
 His bows be fully bent : each homicide shaft. 
 Dipped in fell venim, laid to the quick string ; 
 Is levelled at the soul of somnolent Britain ! 
 
 I saw heaven opened ; and in His high hand, 
 The Lord of Nations weighed in Balances, 
 O'er Britain, Heavens Wrath and Heavens RuTH ! 
 And prevailed Wrath. Then given over was 
 The Land, to who should vex Her for a season. 
 What seest thou ? 
 
 Vates. A mingled ferment in Her soil ; 
 
 As when an hive is stirred to sudden tumult ; 
 Or emmots' nest some hasty foot invades. 
 Of man or beast. 
 
 Muse. What now? Gaze stedfast forth. 
 
 Vates. A strong subduing Nation upland march, 
 And seemeth their battle-front a burning wood ! 
 (Quakes the island mould, under thick hostile tread :) 
 Streets of white tents pitched, of the Hunnish swarms, 
 In our fair fields ! which have those trodden down. 
 
 Muse. And shall they leave them wasted and deformed, 
 (Day of Heavens Wrath !) They seek Her Life ; and 
 
 mongst 
 Them, to divide Her Great Inheritance. 
 
14 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Vates. I see march khaki-clad ranks, them to meet. 
 
 Muse. Men valorous, but not soldiers. 
 
 Vates. Britains youth! 
 
 Muse. Such cannot Her defend ! 
 
 Vates. Ah! sayest thou this? 
 
 Muse. England lies sick, and long hath lain. Had been 
 Embattled all the manhood of the Isle, 
 Bulwark of Britain, exercised in arms ; 
 The effort of the Nation had preserved 
 Their common heritage. Hath not Island Britain 
 Been six times subjected unto the reproach. 
 Of foreign conquest? Voices heard from heaven, 
 A Seventh presage ; ensuing, from the North. 
 What seest thou now? 
 
 Vates. A burning citys smoke ! 
 
 Great drift, from East to West, of fugitives. 
 
 They, ah ! shrink from the East Coast. I derelict villages 
 
 See yonder ; walls unroofed and desolate hearths ! 
 
 Muse. Shall cities be brought low, burned, ransomed, 
 wasted. 
 Her bread shall fail, Her arms be overthrown. 
 Her fields lie strown with war-slain carcases ; 
 As a wood-soil, strawed after Winter tempest ; 
 With the green withering wrack of forest oaks. 
 
 Vates. Like as some mountain head it were, of snow, 
 For whiteness: I beheld Immortal Brow, 
 Now a moment, look down, from the clouds of Heaven ! 
 Turn then away, as sad, his looks from Britain. 
 
 Muse. Thine eyes beheld an heavenly Providence; 
 One of the Seven Spirits, inhabiting 
 Eternity. He which long upheld Isle Britain ; 
 The same hath, weary and sorrowful, for a season, 
 Withdrawn Himself: Rebuke of Heaven ! Approach, 
 Lo, Infernal Spirits, with dark presumptuous looks ! 
 Dread not : that thing thou seest is not yet. 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 15 
 
 The Evil Genius of Britain, is seen walking, habited in 
 a long training robe, amidst blight-dropping mist. 
 
 Evil Genius. Since Albion went up, to the stars of heaven, 
 (Weary of the Evil ;) I bear rule in Britain ; 
 Where men me worship, both in Church and State. 
 
 Falsehed and Evil Counsel and Illusion ; 
 And Apathy, in this unready and winking Nation : 
 All these I am : though I full worshipful seem ; 
 Walking as man, amongst the sons of men : 
 A priest, a councillor, a politician ; 
 With reverend stately pace, and solemn countenance. 
 
 But as a Fate, I bow mens spirits and bind : 
 So that, whatso one doeth, or word he sayeth, 
 Shall turn and rend him ; and he, of two paths. 
 That one shall choose, which leads to his confusion. 
 
 In the self wise, wont I beguile this Nation ; 
 And set them by the ears : I put my spirit. 
 On factious swelling souls ; whose blatant tongues 
 Hang limber in their jaws. I forge, face, feign : 
 And mostly I, with so strong self-love delude them ; 
 That they deceived-deceivers persuade men ; 
 Which dote on their fond lips ; as those reveal, 
 Of heavens light, should some long hidden ray ! 
 (Though such but phantoms hunt, to their own deaths.) 
 
 Is Britain mongst them, like to wounded hart, 
 Of a great horn ; whom bloody wolves abbay : 
 They Her rend, they disembowel, dispiteous. 
 
 Thus I subdue mens travailled impious spirits. 
 These things, though words be sour, to me seem sweet : 
 They make me mirth, which doth mine heart aggrate. 
 
 Hark!... What do I in vast compass of this air. 
 That hugs the Earth ; divine strong wing-beat hear ? 
 And Cometh lo a mighty company of Satans Spirits ! 
 
i6 THE CLOUDS 
 
 [Gigantic demon-shapes draw nigh. Folding swart-twinned 
 vast wings, they alight then, on a reeling cloud-cliff?^ 
 
 Evil Genius. Hail! Whither fly ye, O High Exalted 
 
 Spirits ? 
 Archdemon. Ha, thou art there ! Again we forefly War ; 
 
 Who purposeth Him, from Hell, ascend to Britain; 
 
 Isle that was, yore, of our familiar wont : 
 
 Where since the SON-OF-RlGHTEOUSNESS was made 
 flesh, 
 
 We have ridden, these three times, and disported us. 
 What Season then Angel Albion it forsook. 
 
 As willed soul-slaying Majesty, of Father Satan; 
 
 To thee, to keep the Isle committed was. 
 Evil Genius. Have I not, Azazel, hundred Winters, 
 waited 
 
 Wars great new Advent ; and all things prepared, 
 
 To his high hands ? Welcome illustrious spirits ! 
 
 A Prince of Hell, will I now to mine own, 
 
 Return ; that Ward, whence ye today ascended. 
 Archdemon. How sped'st thou, in thy charge? 
 Evil Genius. I sowed have blight, 
 
 Of Civil Discord, in mens troubled spirits : 
 
 So that, as sick of Pestilence, I leave 
 
 Them living corses. 
 Archdemon. Sayest thou this for sooth? 
 
 Father of Nightmares. 
 Evil Genius. Yea, by the Abyss ! 
 Archdemon. Remains then aught therein, which can 
 
 resist us? 
 Evil Genius. The prayers yet of a few prevail with Heaven. 
 Archdemon. Mens prayers I fear ; since Who their souls 
 redeems, 
 
 The Voice, which from beginning was with Heaven; 
 
 On Earth, in form of womb-born man, was seen : 
 Demons. The Prince of Life! 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 17 
 
 Evil Genius. Soul-darkness, on the rest, 
 
 I breathed, that men discern no more their good. 
 Though an angel should reproach them, out of heaven; 
 Thundering ! they would not hear him, nor regard : 
 My Presence henceforth is unto them as God. 
 
 Demons. Enough, thou Bane of Britain ! Turn aside : 
 Yield, Father of Illusions, place to us. 
 
 Evil Genius. So will I gladly: savours too-too much 
 War, even far off, of festering carcases ! {Departs 
 
 [Abdiei, an Angel, of the Spirit of Prayer ; coming from 
 the circuits of Jicavenly Light and Knowledge ; passeth 
 radious.'] 
 
 Abdiel. By Heaven ! I adjure you, Spirits of dark Abysm, 
 
 Vex not Isle Britain. 
 Archdemon. When we parted forth, 
 
 The Highest consenting smiled. 
 Abdiel. Thou speakest leasing; 
 
 The Lord rebuke thee ! 
 Archdemon. Wing-bright Child of Light ; 
 
 What fellowship hast thou at all with us ? 
 Abdiel. Is this thine hour: have mind of mercy, ha! 
 Archdemon. Mercy, fond Angel ! Satan knows not Her. 
 
 We bow no knee, to thine High One in heaven. 
 Demon Voices. We will bring evil upon Britains House! 
 Abdiel, {looking to heaven^ Lord, (how I abhor that dire 
 abysmal voice !) 
 
 Turn back the sword drawn out gainst Britains Life ! 
 
 ( To the Demons) Who roused War up, that long in Hell 
 had slept? 
 Archdemon. One of the sons of men, confederate 
 
 With Satan ; a crowned clay on Earth-worlds face. 
 Abdiel. Father of Heaven ! Beseech Thee, bring to naught 
 
 The works of darkness ! {Departs 
 
 Demons. Get thee gone from us ! 
 
i8 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Archdemon. Terror, Destruction, Famine, Pesti- 
 lence ; 
 Tumult, Sedition, Rancour, Parricide-Strife; 
 Outrage and Spotted Guile, with double face : 
 Oppression, Rapine; and ye three, the Flame, 
 The Treason and the manifold Sword of War ; 
 And who the rusty Retinue of aching Care : 
 And ye, that MURRAINS breath and Summer-Blight : 
 Dominions, Powers ; all Spirits that fly with Us, 
 Before the face of War, a fiery frost : 
 Girded with glittering waves, behold white-clififed 
 Britain, that sea isle ; subject to our feet ! 
 
 Go, fill Her field with groans ; Her air with sighs ; 
 Till War hath wrought ; and they which dwell in Her, 
 A mingled People, be well-nigh consumed : 
 And chained the Remnant in long servitude. 
 To our Intent ! 
 
 Demons. Her ills shall be our Feast. 
 
 Destruction. Her Plain shall be a Corpse-field. 
 
 Archdemon. Shall Her Name 
 
 Of Albion ; from among the Nations, perish ! 
 
 {He looks backward.) Manquelling War cometh ! like a 
 
 burning mist ; 
 (Is mist of infinite arrows : fleshlings' death !) 
 Ensuing after us. Ho ! to our Intent. 
 Household of Darkness; light precipitous! 
 
 (They stoop on Isle Britain 
 
 Vates. Ha, Lady ; in me, uneath remaineth breath ! 
 
 Muse. Shall, from the cedars, waft an healing breath, 
 On thee; and that shall be instead of meat. 
 To thy refreshing. Hearken ! permitted is. 
 To, thee, one day, a womans son, to dwell ; 
 Yet being in life, upon the Muses' hill : 
 For that towards Britain thou, thy kindly soil. 
 The Muses' Isle, wast erewhile pious found. 
 
THE MUSES' GARDEN 19 
 
 Lo, I lengthen and I shorten ! far-off thing 
 Make I seem nigh : and Times new births, (which be 
 Not yet of Heavens unborn Eternity,) 
 To plainly appear. In that thou lookest hence, forth; 
 Each moment, shall as daylong, to thee seem. 
 
 Now gaze, from this forhanging Temple Cliff! 
 And in wide Vision, see befall Isle Britain, 
 Invading War. And he, on whom thou lookest, 
 Erst haply, in town or field : were such the least 
 Man, in a village, or a market place ; 
 Follow from day to day, with eye and ear : 
 And being in part transfused then, through my power, 
 Thy spirit in his ; (and I will be a Voice, 
 Within thy breast :) such mans vicissitudes, 
 As were they thine, in vision, shall suffice ; 
 For matter of thy sorrowful complaint. 
 
 Vates. Ha, Lady, I fear; and were from this high stair, 
 To slide in trance, and fall to nothingness ! 
 
 Muse. Doubt nothing, whiles I hold thee by the hand, 
 As I have holden ere ; and to thine end, 
 Will hold. And when this day shall be expired : 
 One of the holy Hours, again descending. 
 From hence ; shall bear thy soul, by way thou camest ; 
 And shalt thou wake on ground, in thine own house. 
 
 There tarry not, to take meat : and sith, this Vision ; 
 Ere it from thy remembrance fade, set forth : 
 Ere day, when shall it come indeed to pass. 
 Like to the solitary mew, which cries, 
 Over vast wilderness of wind-woven waves ; 
 Thine office is, to chant patriot hymns, henceforth. 
 But hearken ! What though thou, in this Mountain, wast; 
 And though I, Muse of Britain, breathe thy verse ; 
 Shall few give ear, unto thy lowly voice. 
 
 Nathless Tyrtaios, on whom Polymnia breathed, 
 My Sister Muse, of old ; composed their strifes. 
 
20 THE CLOUDS 
 
 With devout chant, his countrymen heartened forth ; 
 
 So that they Victory, in patriot arms, achieved ! 
 Vates, I, O Daughter of Memory, saw not War. 
 Muse. War rides 
 
 With Death ; such hideous Tempest from Hell- 
 mouth, 
 
 Of homicide demon shapes, with carrion breath ; 
 
 That mortal eye might not sustain their sight ! 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 
 
 [Night in East Etigland. A workmans family is seen sitting 
 over a fire of sticks^ that is burning in the headland 
 of a field.'] 
 
 Wife. I've naught left to put in these childrens mouths; 
 
 (Huggle to mothers bosom, from the cold !) 
 
 We've lost all, John : no bedclothes might I save. 
 John. Be not downhearted, Anne ; we saved they babes : 
 
 And here 's off with my jacket ; lap 'hem in it. 
 Another Workman, {her brother.) They little ones should 
 not want ! 
 
 'S a bit left over, 
 
 From dinner hour: when there fared no time to eat it. 
 
 Look in my frail ; and Sister, let 'hem have it. 
 
 They cannot bide as we ; neither can I 
 
 Habide, to hear 'hem cry. 
 Anne. Babes, uncle Watkin ! 
 Watkin. I saved they tools. 
 Anne. Take, children ! and don't cry. 
 John. I seed you Watkin, from a barnin' roof; 
 
 Some save, as else had perished in the fire. 
 Watkin. 'T wor right tho had their lives. 
 Anne. Look ! our gentleman lodger ! 
 
 Carpenter. Good evening, friends. Would God, there any 
 good 
 
 Might yet be looked for: that were all we've seen 
 
 This day, some frightful dream! but there 's no waking. 
 {He sits down among tltem 
 
22 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Anne. We're that glad, that be we, to see you safe Sir: 
 John. Safe, whole and sound ! 
 Carp. No hurt, save this rent coat. 
 John. That terrible wor the press, in many a place ! 
 Anne. And many is saved has burns, or else is bruised. 
 Watkin. Some barned wor, in the Hospital, in 'her 
 beds ! 
 
 Men might not fetch 'hem forth, for whirland flames. 
 Anne. There moun be many children lost and dead. 
 Watkin. Still ashes fallin'! 
 Anne. Still this bitter reek; 
 Watkin. We draw in with our breaths ! 
 John. Them skies aglow ! 
 
 Watkin. They shows the town is barnin', even now ! 
 John. 'T is perishin'-like for all. Where shall us go, 
 
 Come morn ; what can all this here townfolk do } 
 Watkin. Our masters aren barned out ! 
 John. There's more nor that ! 
 
 What of them forre'n enemies, that us barned ? 
 Carp. They 're come to take our Country away from us. 
 John. Battles there must be! 
 Watkin. That is sure enow. 
 Carp. Battle and bloody warfare are before us. 
 John. Sorrow for all enow ! 
 Watkin. And most and worst, 
 
 As alway is, and must be, for poor folk. 
 Anne. God help us ! 
 
 (An Inspector, with lantern and note book 
 Inspector. I am sent to take all names 
 
 Down, and inscribe them in this Register here ; 
 
 For the relief of bread. There will be loaves 
 
 Distributed equally and soon, to all ; since all 
 
 Be now like poor, and have their living lost. 
 
 That bread, to the next towns, was telegraphed for. 
 John. Cast sticks on, Anne; the Inspector wants more light. 
 
 To write by. 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 23 
 
 Insp. 'T is but chill and wet, this night. 
 
 How many be ye? 
 Anne. We are seven mouths Sir. 
 
 Insp. See, I enter seven!... and so I have your names. 
 Anne. What rumble 's that? 
 John, That boom again, far off! 
 Carp. Some heavy firing seems to me, from sea. 
 Insp. Each stroke, a souls doom; or is many deaths! 
 Carp. Licensed a.ssassins ! 
 Anne. Who... 
 Carp. (The homicides !) 
 Anne. ...hath set them on? 
 Insp. Smite them. Lord God of Peace ! 
 
 That come, in days of peace, to murder us. 
 
 I must away. {Departs 
 
 Anne. God, of all might ; O help us 1 
 Carp. May all their dark designs not come to pass ! 
 
 \Ru?nour of approachmg waggon-wheels, with gingling 
 bells and trampling horses' hoofs.'] 
 
 Carp. An ambulance ! I know it by the lamps. 
 
 Voice {from passing waggon.) Here's bread, for them as 
 
 wants ! 
 Watkin. Hold ! 
 Anne. Give us bread ! 
 
 \^An ambulance sergeant, with lantern, bearing in 
 a basket of loaves^ 
 
 Sergeant. Two loaves, per head, the distribution is ; 
 For all that need tonight : how many be ye .-* 
 
 Anne. Seven, if there's plenty. Sir. 
 
 Sergeant. There 's plenty, bless ye ! 
 
 You should 'a seen, how heard our gingling bells ; 
 There folk ran forth to meet us, time we passed : 
 From hamlets, village streets, cottage-doors, manor-houses, 
 And farmsteads : Lord ! of cill, we gathered fast. 
 
24 THE CLOUDS 
 
 What so those gave, with full hands, where we stayed ; 
 
 Might hardly we bestow, in our first carts. 
 
 Their shelves and larders many have left bare. 
 
 Is all for you, Easthamptons burned out folk ; 
 
 That have lost all, and lie out cold and wet. 
 
 The rest you '11 have, by when the Sun is up. 
 
 Besides we bought up all, (was order telegraphed !) 
 
 At Government cost, was in the bakers' shops. 
 
 Yet some scorned payment ; though themselves they 
 were 
 
 In doubt of what the morrow might bring forth. 
 
 More carts is on this road. 
 Carp. Your news are what ? 
 Serg. I heard some say, there is an army-corps landed. 
 
 With transport and their heavy field artillery. 
 
 On your shore hinder. The enemies lie in camp. 
 
 After their voyage: they labour still upon it: 
 
 And that 's already entrenched and fortified, 
 
 With bank of sods and earth, on this land side. 
 
 So much our army airflyers have ascertained ! 
 
 And regiments of the Colchester Command, 
 
 With all the East Anglian levies, are in march. 
 
 Sup friends and sleep, and so to all, Goodnight ! 
 
 [A nother part of Easthampton fields. The Mayor, and some 
 of the Town Council, which escaped with him ; are seen 
 sitting out in drizzling rain, over the e?nbers of a camp fire, 
 kindled in the border of a wood.] 
 
 Town Surveyor. But, will you not Sir yet some shelter 
 take > 
 
 There's yonder Cottage. 
 Mayor. Nay, we to the hurt 
 
 And sick assigned it. Now for your Report. 
 Surveyor. I from the hill-brow numbered, as you bade 
 
 Me, nigh this place, the Peoples fires. 
 Mayor. How many } 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 25 
 
 SURV. I make them, fifteen hundred flickering hearths, 
 On this, and fully as many on that part : 
 The remnant, viewed confusedly, as further off; 
 Eye might not rightly count : but many are quenched. 
 The hour is late. 
 
 \Distant bray of a motor-horn. Then arrives an 
 Intelligence Officer^ in Jiniform.^ 
 
 Officer. My motor-car might not pass ! 
 
 Mayor. Here no way lies. 
 
 Officer. Be not you Sir, the Mayor.!" 
 
 Of burned Easthampton. 
 Mayor. At your service Sir. 
 Officer. Mine is a Government errand, to enquire ; 
 
 Wherefore the Enemy have, contrary to the Law 
 
 Of Nations, and to military honour, 
 
 Bombarded and burned down your open town } 
 And will you further tell me, what has passed ; 
 
 So that I may report, by telegraph. 
 Mayor. Well as I can : but must, in such disorder, 
 
 With heart on fire, and this rackt brow unfit ; 
 
 I crave indulgence, if imperfectly I tell it. 
 
 ...This vast Calamity is more than heart may think, 
 
 Wont to think only, on a single sorrow ! 
 
 We among the last escaped, nor all escaped, 
 
 I fear, that followed us through burning streets ; 
 
 When toppled factory chimneys from their base, 
 
 And shot-down spires blocked thoroughfares. Gas and 
 water 
 
 Mains, broken were by their fall. Mischance then was. 
 
 That flames took first hold on our Baltic yard ; 
 
 And forth wind-driven, in vast roaring flood, 
 
 As the wind rose, on some nigh soap-works seized. 
 Out of thick smoke, on housetops and on streets, 
 
 Fell fiery flakes. Caught fire the town-hall roof. 
 
 The beams and joists as we sate on in Council, 
 
26 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Were burning o'er our heads. Inrushing firemen, 
 Us drew down the great marble-stairs, perforce. 
 
 I saw, come without doors, from the steps' head ; 
 Much fugitive multitude madding in the street ; 
 Like to seas tumbling waves. With all my force, 
 I shouted. Save yoii. Citizens, to the fields ! 
 Those, turning their pale faces, gan disperse. 
 
 Where throngs, at the cross-streets, met contrary- 
 throngs ; 
 Who fell, were trodden underfoot ! There might help, 
 Nor prayer, so thick the press, nor human force. 
 Firemen and constables them indeed enforced, 
 To save the People : but they, (where strong went down 
 And weak were bruised to death, and who sustained 
 Their feeble folk ;) themselves were overborne. 
 
 Men fought beside themselves ; shrieked frantic women, 
 Bearing frail babes some ones, on their faint necks ; 
 Where shoots of stones, where burning timbers falling : 
 O'erwhelming flame-wall seen, surging to heaven, 
 Approach ! Then was, when none hope left, cast up 
 The prison gates ; the criminals were let forth. 
 
 Those coursed, like daunted wolves, to save themselves, 
 Amidst the human eddies in the street. 
 Some seen were, (as sheep-curs o'erleap a flock,) 
 Run on mens shoulders, where strove thickest press ! 
 
 Our great gas6meters ; which, without the town, 
 Were newly erected, soon with awful shock ! 
 (In gulf of flame;) and hundred deaths, blew up. 
 A detonation, which seemed to lift heaven ; 
 And seemed to sink the World, under our feet ! 
 
 The suburb ways were full of flying feet. 
 The enemies' shells our Railway Station wrecked : 
 Fugitives, which there sought shelter, found their deaths. 
 Walls fell on many. Who saved were ; sleet, which 
 ceased not, 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 27 
 
 Of bullets in their midst ; tithed in the street ! 
 
 Ofttime, who fell down wounded, having none 
 
 To succour them ; being then fearfully overtaken, 
 
 Perished in torment of onrushing flames. 
 Officer. Wounded and dead, ye estimate them, at what ? 
 Mayor. We as yet have no returns. What I look at, 
 
 Is our Towns harbourless thousands, that lie out 
 
 Tonight ; in this unkindly wind and wet ; 
 
 Hungry, and for the morrow all unprovided ! 
 Officer. And what of the Enemys landing on your shore ? 
 Mayor. I can but speak, as ascertained so far, 
 
 In this days troubles ; nor are those at end. 
 
 At sunset, the enemies' advanced vedettes ; 
 
 Could hence be seen by us, towards the Coast. 
 Sea without haven, twixt Saltfleet and Southness, 
 
 Safe in West winds, a roadstead in fair weather ; 
 
 Is that we call, (over the heath, an hour ; 
 
 Where Winter waves beat up, against themselves. 
 
 Steep banks of pebble-stones,) Easthampton Strand. 
 Is there an hamlet of poor fisher folk, 
 
 Tarred cottage walls, with digged potato plots. 
 
 Whereby their boats, from the foreshore, drawn-up ; 
 
 And where they spread their nets, to dry, in the sun. 
 
 When last night fell, with weather thick, and tide 
 
 At flood ; our longshore fishermen went not out. 
 But what, of the Eastlanders landing, we have learned ; 
 
 We had it, of a young man, worthy of credit ; 
 
 Whose father keeps, (old navy pensioner,) there, 
 
 In partnership with him, a ship chandlers store. 
 According to whose saying, was hazy moonlight, 
 
 Nor visible in the offing any ships ; 
 
 When the enemies' first pontoon boats touched to land : 
 
 Was past then midnight, by an hour or more. 
 
 Soldiers, with glittering bayonets, were formed up, 
 
 On the seas sliding brinks, as they outstepped. 
 
 Thence those gone up ; (whilst cut their pioneers 
 
28 THE CLOUDS 
 
 The telephone wires, which join our coastguard walks, 
 From clifif to clifif;) the cottage-walls surrounded: 
 And strange-tongued, strange-guised men, loud threat- 
 ened death ; 
 To all and several, that should them resist. 
 
 Foot and horse soldiers, all night from their ships, 
 Till dayspring, sith descended to our strand : 
 And misty sea-flood seemed, neath stars, to sleep ; 
 So it was calm, which helped them and hurt us. 
 
 When passed an hour, two regiments were detached : 
 And dragging with them, muffle-wheeled field guns ; 
 They, (the enemies' vanguard,) upland silent marched. 
 Nor cry of any bird, nor bark of hound ; 
 Nor pilots voice from sea, had Essex warned. 
 
 This year were mongst the dunes, pitched the town 
 butts ; 
 Where, one month, our recruits lodged under canvas. 
 Heard heavy marching, thick advancing tread ; 
 Their sentinel challenged. None answered ! neither when 
 He a second time challenged and turned out the Guard. 
 
 Those shouted. They would shoot ! They shot in 
 the air. 
 For answer, thousand Mausers' fiery mouths, 
 Discharged their lead, at strange voice of command ! 
 Fell some ones, where they stood : many, in that moment, 
 Waked, (slumbering in the tents,) last pang, of death ! 
 
 Alarmed the camp, our young men hastily marched, 
 Led by their sergeants, in platoons ; and fetched 
 A compass, certain tamarisk banks beset ; 
 That lay, before those stranger enemies' march : 
 Where they with volleys fought, and single shots ; 
 Levelling our young sharpshooters, in the murk ; 
 At the enemies' rifles' flash. But soon fell the most, 
 In their young years ; fell there on their fresh faces. 
 For England slain. Who last remained alive ; 
 Being taken, in the dawns first springing light ; 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 29 
 
 By the enemies, were brought on disarmed and bound. 
 Came those, gainst day, before our slumbering town ; 
 When only rising was the early smoke, 
 Of factory chimneys. Halted, who commanded 
 The Eastlanders, chart in hand, deployed his men : 
 And when he somewhile had observed the place : 
 He, to command it, sent his field guns on. 
 To Windmill-hill : whence they then loosed a shot : 
 And with that detonation the town waked ! 
 
 Then sending in a peremptory trumpet, 
 He requisitioned horses, carriage, victual ; 
 And contribution, thirty thousand pounds ; 
 With the surrender of all private arms, 
 Within two hours : the place else to be sacked ! 
 
 I summoned the Town Council. Came the most 
 Unkempt ; as risen hastily from their beds. 
 We sent the common Crier out in our streets ; 
 Enjoyning on all citizens quietness, 
 In the kings name ; whilst that examined was, 
 Which to the public safety did pertain. 
 To the enemy, made we shortly answer then ; 
 We would respond, by noon ; which granted was. 
 
 Thronged early workfolk to the market place ; 
 Tradesmen and gentlemen met, in this suspense 
 And doubt, there to consult. We spoke to London : 
 For the Inland telephone wires were not yet cut. 
 
 Tardily from Whitehall, came to us response ; 
 To do what best us seemed, to our behoof: 
 No regiments might be sent in time to save us. 
 
 Marched in some companies of the enemies' force, 
 To the great Square; where, having set strong watch. 
 At the streets' heads, they bivouacked, with piled arms. 
 
 Entered, in the next hour, with guard of horse, 
 Their Commandant. In old crooked narrow street, 
 Where hardly wain might pass, stood many thronging 
 
30 THE CLOUDS 
 
 The foot pavement to look on. Risen in his stirrups ; 
 He gave the word, Ride down the Englanders ! 
 
 Sudden, over mens heads, rang out a shot ! 
 From chamber window of an antique house ; 
 (Such poor clay tenement, of low bulging walls. 
 As seen in many a Towns-end of East England.) 
 Its ramrod, from old blunderbuss, had been shot ! 
 
 Tumbled headlong that arrogant, from his horse : 
 And on the cobble stones lay, blood-welling corse ! 
 A fearful wound had opened all his chest. 
 
 A volley, on the cottage windows, fired strange soldiers ; 
 Dismounted. The unarmed people fled dispersed. 
 Troopers, beat in the door, rushed through the house, 
 A sorrowful old wife, of the meaner sort ; 
 Whom sole therein they found, haled frantic forth ; 
 Raving, resisting, by the long hair-locks. 
 
 Lone widow, had she wept herself distracted ; 
 Moaning her dead sons only son. He one 
 Was, serving in the Camp, of this years soldiers ; 
 Who fell at dawn, with many a comrade, slain. 
 Shrieked striving writhing, the old white-headed wife ; 
 So might ye, every mothers son, fall slain ! 
 
 At trumpet call, few officers, hastily assembled ; 
 Held field Court-martial, standing on the stones : 
 And, the only punishment, they of their war-code, 
 Adjudged her. In the self place, to be shot : 
 Whereafter should be burned o'er her the house. 
 
 To a lamp-post bounden, when there six told off, 
 Made ready ; rose an angry English shout ! 
 Men flung, to save her ; who beside her mind. 
 Yet mocked her murderers : but the Eastlander bayonets 
 Them bare back wounded. She, thrilled by their shot. 
 Then sunk in death. Nor fully dead, was cast 
 Her body in at her door : and, from their bivouac. 
 Fetched brands; kindled the old clay-daubed cottage- 
 house. 
 
EASTHAMPTON BURNED 31 
 
 Some murmured, even of the foreign soldiers ! 
 
 Caught fire the next and next old timber houses. 
 Sounded retreat ! The flames increased ; they leapt, 
 From roof to roof: a gunsmiths shop blew up. 
 
 Who, on a shutter, bare their colonel dead, 
 Cast down then and forsook the brutal corse ; 
 Fearing to be cut off. Those hemmed-in soldiers, 
 Men slew ; that slew them, in the burning street. 
 
 Rushed Eastlanders, at the double, in retreat; 
 Firing. Come those without ; their cannon tempest 
 Rained, of live shells, back on our burning town. 
 Their purpose, so doing, they said, was to make of Her, 
 First terrible example, to all England ! 
 
 Then ran forth citizens, from their burning doors, 
 Bearing, what things had hastily saved, their hands ! 
 Easthampton ; which this day, when rose the Sun, 
 A town was of twelve thousand families; 
 Prostrate, a mile-wide waste, now heap-wise lies. 
 Fuming : we, in gusts, Her burning, smell from hence ! 
 
 Officer. The Eastlanders lost their thirty thousand pounds. 
 Mayor. But might recover it, from the Bankers' vaults ! 
 
 With what, in hundred tradesmens safes, was lockt. 
 So have you heard Sir, all that I can tell ; 
 
 And heavy is the tale. More happy be. 
 
 Than we, who slain yet live ; the dead of late ! 
 Officer. No military man loves more to think ; 
 
 What is like to happen, in this sickly State! 
 
ELY 
 
 JVo/ no Wight what War is, thereas Peace reigneth. 
 
 Piers Ploughman. 
 
 \CaTpenter, weary and travel- stained arrives, at the 
 Cathedral Great West Porch^ 
 
 Carp. Else this were the third night, I have lain out, 
 In my rain-coat ; the last in Offas dyke ; 
 Since I left burned Easthampton ; where dispersed, 
 A town lodged homeless, in the open fields. 
 In hollow hedge-rows housed, they groaned, for want : 
 And of the infirm and hurt and aged folk ; 
 There many had already passed from life. 
 
 Rain miserably again falling, towards the day ; 
 Helped quench vast dying flames ; whose bitter breath 
 Yet covered the cold stars ; and borne was forth, 
 On the immense bosom of the wakening wind. 
 Parents still wandered, seeking children lost ! 
 Was battle looked for, shortly to be joined. 
 
 This journey to my mother, in the North, 
 With railroads cut ; is likely, upon my feet. 
 To be a fortnight's going, or more than that ; 
 Might be three weeks. She, (and I must haste,) in her 
 Widows sollicitude, none beside me hath. 
 
 As on by the great northern road, I passed ; 
 (In by-ways, footing oft, and through field- paths ; 
 Where the kings high-way seemed no longer safe :) 
 
ELY 
 
 33 
 
 Continually on mine ears, smote bloody sounds, 
 Of War : affray and battle, afar off: 
 Cannon reverberating from sea, hills, skies ! 
 
 Weariness and hunger my companions were. 
 Where each Sun set, my pillow was the brier. 
 My bed the dew-dropped grass; heavens stars mine 
 
 house. 
 Such ills, beginning now invading war. 
 Shall shortly, in the remembrance, seem but light ; 
 When weighed with mischiefs, which must daily increase. 
 
 A Gate meseems of Heaven, this stately Porch ! 
 Fortress of consecrated stones; with haven 
 Of prayer-reared walls beyond, midst the Worlds siege : 
 That Evil, which pursues us, and the worm 
 Of cold remembrance, which still frets our hearts. 
 
 Built with mens hands, of timber and hewed sand , 
 Though this great sacred Fane, of buttressed walls, 
 And panelled roofs, be frail and transitory : 
 Here entering reverent in, a Sanctuary, 
 A Place of holy Trust it is ; where dwelleth 
 A Divine Breath ; whereas my soul hath feast. 
 
 And ye, long-during pillars ; which, in ranks, 
 Uphold this prayer-parfumed, with music thrilled, 
 High Minster Church! where my bowed knees approach; 
 I, in world-forgetting confuse thought, embrace. 
 
 Fold, ye twain hands of mine ungodly flesh : 
 That like is, for brief season, wind-driven leaf, 
 Neath everlasting heavens, on long-aged Earth ; 
 Ready to fade, and soon to fall in death ; 
 Whilst yond choired children, Life-eternal ! chant ; 
 In the ALL ETERNAL INFINITE FATHERHOOD. 
 And mount up, midst their harmonies, my souls voice ! 
 
 Suns purple streams, on this paved Temple Court, 
 Through glowing glass, seem flowers shed down from 
 thence ; 
 
 3 
 
34 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Where dwells the King of GLORY, in endless Light. 
 Is War on Earth ; war in our Countrys midst ! 
 Forget, my soul, that Hell of dread ! a moment. 
 On these cold flags, that long memorial hold. 
 Of mouldering graves, tread forth my living steps. 
 Eyes behold tombs, of those before us passed ; 
 Ended their lives with honour, in the Earth : 
 Gaze on them and take courage ! Immense is 
 The Power of Evil, which our souls molests, 
 Without cease; and that must our feeble force 
 Resist and surmount, in Worlds daily paths. 
 Eternal! If error lie in our Belief, 
 Impute it to our blindness. Alway accept 
 Our true endeavour, for Thy mercies' sake. 
 But Thou us guide ; how should frail mortal wit. 
 Alone, suffice to rule our wayward feet ! 
 
 I know must be dissolved, in time to come ; 
 (Since nothing can, which neath the Moon hath being, 
 Long-time endure : when shall the hour which is, 
 Be of dead ages past;) this Holy House; 
 And shall Her goodly ornaments lie defaced. 
 
 In that day, her sheltering walls shall stand unroofed. 
 Part fallen in breaches: twixt these fair paved stones, 
 The bramble and the thistle shall come up, 
 And thorn-tree flourish ; in whose tender green, 
 The nesting hedgeling bird shall feed her young. 
 Verger. It is not Sir permitted here to space. 
 
 Time of Church-service. But you '11 presently hear 
 The Benediction! 
 Words, {sounding from the Choir.) And the Peace of God, 
 
 Be with you now and evermore: Amen. 
 Carp. Thundering dismission ! how loud organs shake 
 This mighty Frame, to the gold -glittering roofs ; 
 Triumphing ! and Her sacred silence break. 
 So bear me, jaded knees, unto mine Inn; 
 To sup and sleep ; and have I need of both. 
 
ELY 35 
 
 {^Morning light awakens him 
 Carp. What voices in the street ! Long have I slept 
 A dreamless sleep of deadly weariness : 
 And lo, clear Summers Sun high shines in heaven ! 
 
 Lowing of cattle waked me and bleating flocks; 
 Wheels rumbling ; beat of horses' hoofs beneath ! 
 And hum of men. 'T is market-day, methought ; 
 Or else a fair ! as I gazed mazing forth. 
 
 Paid the Inn shot, I wondering walked without: 
 And full the Steeple- Row find and Market Street, 
 Of footfolk, carts and fugitive thronging press ! 
 
 I heard say, Had been suspended in the night, 
 The railway passenger service; and the enemies' 
 Air-flyers have cut the over-fields' telegraph wires ! 
 
 I sought, by the fen roads, on, towards the North, 
 To pass, but might not : constables were there set. 
 To warn men back. Had an alarm, at midnight. 
 Been raised, they told me; (and that hath since proved 
 
 just !) 
 Of a descent and landing, in the Wash. 
 
 Returned ; all inns and lodgings full I find ; 
 None other shelter than in the Great Church : 
 Whither is concourse now of fugitive families. 
 
 Soon were the aisles and nave full of sad faces ; 
 The old cloisters then, and crumbling ambulatories ; 
 Listening to cannons' manslaying throats far-off; 
 That boom, like doom of heaven ! in mortal ears : 
 Tokens of impious maims and passing souls. 
 
 How, (Power of Hell !) War shakes these sacred walls, 
 Gods House of Prayer ; these shrines, and Christs saints' 
 bones ! 
 
 In weariness, fret, confusion of our hearts, 
 The long hours pass. Now midday ; in the great Nave, 
 Is public distribution made of bread ; 
 The Chapters gift, unto every one who would. 
 And might men cast, what seemed them, in the bag. 
 
 3—2 
 
36 THE CLOUDS 
 
 The day crept forth : chimes told the tardy hours, 
 Till afternoon. Days light decays, at length. 
 Come evening gloom; said each one in himself; 
 Ah, day we looked not for, of Englands death ! 
 
 The Minsters paved floor was then parcelled out ; 
 Both aisles and nave, mongst all there fugitives. 
 Women were to the Lady Chapel led. 
 (That hall of beauty, in this House of God.) 
 Was fetched in bedstraw ; whereof all might take, 
 To strew them pallets, on the raw flag stones. 
 (We lodge, by twenties, in the pillar-bays.) 
 
 Soldiers, now nightfall, singing as they march ; 
 Pass, dusty companies, in through Ely streets ! 
 Fen-folk, which gathered under the town-lamps ; 
 Abashed were, in remembering their unworth. 
 Hands, wont to master the huge stubborn force, 
 Of a gain-striving ox, to arms untaught ; 
 Help meanly to maintain a Nations State ! 
 
 Our seven-day soldiers, led by inexpert 
 Commanders: striplings, lacking comradeship; 
 Gainst seasoned soldiers, fight unequal fight. 
 
 Companies march on, to bivouac in the park : 
 And further should, when rose the Moon, tonight. 
 They looked to meet the Eastlander, at sunrist. 
 Fen-men, held Meeting in the street, have spokesmen, 
 Now sent to the field-officer commanding; 
 Proffering themselves, to serve with him, as soldiers. 
 
 But he responded ; In the fighting ranks. 
 Are men untrained to war, of slight account, 
 As War now is. Yet he their forwardness praised. 
 Worthy of their fathers ; which of old beat Danes, 
 From these fen marches; and withstood proud Normans. 
 
 When kindled now were the Cathedral lamps; 
 And mothers had laid down their babes to sleep ; 
 Gave the Precentor out, from the Choir steps, 
 
ELY 37 
 
 Kens evening hymn ; which sang, of their full hearts, 
 Devoutly, thousand throats of fugitives forth. 
 
 When this great Voice ascended had to God ; 
 A venerable clerk, from pulpit spake ; 
 Saying, Welcome brethren, in His Holy Name, 
 To the Lords House : which is an Inn of Christ, 
 Our Elder Brother, on our way to heaven. 
 See that your conversation be herein, 
 Then, as becometh Saints. 
 
 Let no man set 
 Unrighteous snare before his brethrens feet : 
 As who would say. This Consecrated Place, 
 Threshold of Heaven, too holy is to eat 
 And drink in. Do not we, in charity, eat. 
 With thanksgiving bread, and bodily drink the cup 
 Of our Salvation, Christs Remembrance, here? 
 
 So ought we, in the self-wise, in every place, 
 To eat our daily meat, with holy thought : 
 And sanctify the Lord dlway, in all our hearts. 
 
 Or who would say, To sleep in : What ! have not, 
 Under the flagstones, in this Minster Church, 
 Been laid to rest mens corrupt carcases ? 
 
 Know, nothing is more precious, in Gods seeing. 
 Than be the living temples of His Breath, 
 Which are your bodies. Beloved, endeavour then, 
 To keep them spotless ; that ye might be called 
 Gods children, brethren of the Christ, in heaven ; 
 And fellow heirs of the eternal life. 
 
 Last, lifting holy hands, he humbly prayed : 
 Father Almighty, of Christ our Righteousness; 
 And in Him of us men, begotten again 
 Into His holy Name! Lord, for His sake; 
 And for Christs Saints, which in Thy Bosom sleep, 
 Departed in the Faith : beseech Thee, hear us. 
 
 Allseeing, Thou knowest; how that we be this day, 
 In dire affliction and calamity ; 
 
38 THE CLOUDS 
 
 By reason of War, an Enemy hath brought in on us. 
 Beseech Thee, and it be possible ; and are possible 
 All things with Thee ; that might this Cup pass from us ! 
 And so he blessed us ; saying, Christ give you Light ! 
 
 Soon after this, when the most Minster lamps 
 Were spent, night season ; and the fugitives leaning ; 
 Last, on their pallets, laid them down to sleep : 
 Alone the Watch, which have they chosen, by lot. 
 Among themselves ; and changed, from hour to hour, 
 Till day ; with them that, servants of the Church, 
 Waking all night, kept the Cathedral doors ; 
 Stood silent, in their places, in the midst. 
 On all descended deep forgetfulness. 
 Of ills ; what though those instant were without. 
 
 At daybreak, hoised was, on the master-tower; 
 Where watchmen, from the dawn, stand gazing forth ; 
 The Red Cross banner. Is, in Ely streets, 
 Now rumour of the Invaders' nigh approach. 
 
 The Isle-of-Elys magistrates, in the night ; 
 Had caused be baked, for public need, much bread : 
 That one days distribution might be made. 
 When all had loaves, from the bread carts, received ; 
 It seemed the last time we might break our fasts, 
 In an unconquered England. 
 
 When had been 
 Sung in the Minster Church, Kens morning hymn ; 
 Of all who lodged therein, with lifted hearts ; 
 I from Saint Audreys precincts, wandered forth. 
 
 Whilst stood mens hearts in doubt ; how they provide 
 Might daily sustenance, for their fugitive families ; 
 Isle Elys magistrates have sent message to us : 
 Hark!... 
 Bellman. Third part of all Strangers must remove : 
 For pasture lacks; and feared is, shall fail victual.' 
 Tomorrow, again third part. God save the King ! 
 
IN THE WAY TOWARDS STAMFORD 
 
 All places full of forrahie powers. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 I parted in a company, as fortune was, 
 Of some had been my neighbours in the Church. 
 
 And oft upon that Fenlands noble Minster, 
 Fast minishing on the border of our sky ; 
 We gazed back, as with many thoughts in heart, 
 We fared. But now a troubled Country it was, 
 We passed ; soon to be harried, and Her dust 
 Be laid, with battle-blood. We went by a church; 
 And marked, was flying, o'er her antique porch; 
 Which open stood, for the receipt of fugitives. 
 Upon the road, a flag of the Red Cross. 
 
 We saw a village folk then clustered thick, 
 As bees, before their shops ; that purchased victual. 
 By many cottage doors lay great roped packs, 
 Of household stuff, made ready to remove. 
 All labour seemed suspended in their fields : 
 Plough-beasts stood idle ; gazing forth, at gates. 
 Men loitered, in green lanes, with troubled looks. 
 
 Fell in our company two which there outpaced us, 
 Riding on cycles ; young men, khaki-clad. 
 Parted at dawn, from college halls; those sped, 
 To join today their territorial regiments. 
 
 One of them answered ; Able-bodied young men, 
 Untaught, unexercised to patriot arms ; 
 Were, in their problem-walls, more than two thousand: 
 
40 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Nor of that shame ashamed ! 
 
 His fellow said ; 
 In Chinese studies and brain-wasting sports ; 
 Sardonic laughter, which would some have pass, 
 For young ripe wisdom ; mumming, glozing, nullities \ 
 We lose our days : leaving no time to be 
 Ourselves; or think, what most were profitable for us. 
 With gibing laughter! (irksome in our ears; 
 Since part was sooth;) the young men parted forth. 
 
 Eigh ! How may England thrive ? a lawyer quoth. 
 (A mighty Walker he, returning home, 
 From his vacation, when he fell in with us.) 
 What for Her factions, and Her brabbling Parliaments. 
 Her People, as dumb confounded, can but lift 
 Their eyes to heaven ; beholding this Storm-beat 
 Great Ship of State, steered fondly on towards sharp 
 rocks ! 
 
 And if She strike not thus ; will Her wind-shaken 
 Timbers, purblind pilots loosen ; and open 
 Her seams all to salt waves ; so that needs must 
 She sink : whereas, as every witling knows ; 
 The strength is of a faggot, in the Bond ! 
 
 Sound now of pealing church-bells smote our ears : 
 From village unto village, warning wide! 
 
 The County Council had, this Lawyer said. 
 Yesterday assembled ; drafted a new Ordinance : 
 That in all parish Churches might be laid 
 Up household goods, for safety : and was provided, 
 Gainst day of instant peril ; that were borne 
 Women with child, the sick, the infirm, the aged; 
 All such as might not, in a flight, remove; 
 To fore-appointed place, in every circuit, 
 To be determined by the magistrates; 
 Where, were it schoolroom, parish-hall or else barn; 
 Must be provided beds, and hospital service. 
 
IN THE WAY TOWARDS STAMFORD 41 
 
 Every such Refuge, to be inviolate, 
 In War; must fly tiie flag of the Red Cross. 
 
 And lieutenants over hundreds have been set ; 
 With delegated powers, to purchase victual ; 
 And punish, without process, felonies. 
 
 At a next cross-ways' finger-post, we stayed ; 
 To read new Government Notice. State of Siege 
 Proclaimed! In Districts, under Martial Law, 
 Railways and Telegraphs have been taken o'er, 
 To Service of the State. Must all Draught- 
 Beasts 
 And Vehicles be now Registered, and Reserved, 
 For Military Transport. Can the Posts, 
 From Day to Day, no more be Guaranteed. 
 
 In Proclaimed Districts, Penalties are Imposed, 
 For not Declaring Stores of Meal and Corn. 
 Bridges may be Destroyed, at any Moment. 
 
 A Misdemeanour is, to Publish Tidings; 
 Which might avail the Enemies of England. 
 Punishment, for Furthering Englands Foreign 
 
 Enemies, 
 By Word or Deed ; Is Death, Without Recourse. 
 
 Passed by those cross-roads a distracted rout ; 
 Fugitives, indifferently wayfaring to both parts : 
 Men able-bodied, wives, children, maids, young men; 
 Nor few be old broken folk. Wains, droves and flocks 
 Wend, mingled with them. And seem their heaped carts 
 Roll forth, with all that might be laid on wheels. 
 
 We a town approached. Come to the Corn Exchange; 
 One stood to speak, to gathering Country-folk ; 
 From an horse-block. Neighbours, (we heard him say;) 
 Behoves us all together, to stand stedfast. 
 Like men; in dark hour of our Lands distress: 
 And all what new War-ordinances be laid on us; 
 Observe. And more, like-worthy words, he spake. 
 Uneasy in this fen-town was to buy bread. 
 
42 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Inns no more furnished victual. Dreading what 
 Might happen ; sollicitous housewives taken up, 
 Had store already, of all that might be eaten. 
 
 Seemed faring, in these highways, all East England ! 
 Wherefore amongst us, it concluded was ; 
 Forsaking the main roads, to find, by maps, 
 Which we in Chatteris bought, our further path. 
 
 Issued at afternoon : of one we met ; 
 We enquired the way, where seemed our turning was. 
 
 Beware, quoth he, of the New Cut : the footing. 
 Where pathway seems, is drowned and devious. 
 Might bridges be blown up, dykes may be cut ; 
 We know not when. Ware, where there 's water out ! 
 Ye could not then the fleets, save swimming, pass. 
 
 The Marshland Bailiff wont on strangers seize : 
 That 's the ague, which lurks mongst those fenny reeds. 
 May lightly, to the middle, a man be bogged ; 
 Who treads on tickle quavemires, overgrassed. 
 So many, ere now, good marshman has been lost. 
 And we, in Summer droughts, have found of such, 
 The blanched bones, sunk-up, in some rotten moss. 
 
 To Fenton might ye fetch or Moretons Learn, 
 To Westry or Whittlesea; but ye so must pass 
 The Twenty-foot Ryne, or o'er the River Nen. 
 Your best hope were to find, by some tow path, 
 A barge; wherein benighted, ye might sleep. 
 
 We entered soon, midst that green fens swart earth; 
 Where, when we had, till mid of afternoon ; 
 From stile to stile, searched out, how we should pass ; 
 Damp reeking mist was drifted over us : 
 So that we might not longer see our trode. 
 
 Bank of a polder had we viewed before us : 
 Whereon a pumping windmill, and hard by, 
 A rick of hay. Sounding before our steps. 
 
IN THE WAY TOWARDS STAMFORD 43 
 
 With staves; we found that mill, and therein entered. 
 Glad of this refuge, whilst a long hour passed : 
 We communed, of what little news we had brought, 
 From Chatteris. 
 
 Lifting somewhat the chill gloom : 
 The Lawyer presently drew out of his purse, 
 An antique penny. And look, quoth he, on this ! 
 The ploughshare threw up, in a field of mine. 
 Who has good eyes may read the legend on it. 
 
 Carpenter. Britannia Carta ! 
 
 Lawyer. And this bay-wreathed head? 
 
 Carp. Hadrian ? 
 
 Lawyer. Nay Claudius : he, from whom derived 
 Five centuries here, of Roman servitude. 
 Then Saxon cynings ruled, with various fortune, 
 Six centuries ; (fighting ofttimes, king against king.) 
 
 Their rule was rude, and yet was that as long, 
 As Romes Republic erewhile had endured ! 
 From Brutus unto Brutus. Decayed then 
 The Saxon State ; when Alfreds failing line 
 Bred no more worthy scions, sufficient men, 
 As those times ran, to sit on a kings stool. 
 Vanquished disjointed Saxons soon proud Normans ; 
 Who Conquerors have, eight centuries, since remained. 
 When did this Island Fastness yet repulse 
 The long warships of Her Invader-hosts? 
 Nay, at each return of War, who dwelled therein, 
 Were overcome ; were overthrown, by men 
 Sailed from the sides of the Main Continent. 
 
 Shooting His beams o'erthwart; the lowering Sun 
 Shone forth again, from near the Occident. 
 But night too nigh now to adventure forth, 
 From certain shelter, fasting though we were ; 
 It seemed us best to wait for morrows light. 
 We dragged dry hay in then, whereon to sleep. 
 Oft waked us, in that crazy hold, from chill 
 
44 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Uneasy slumber of warped joints, strange crakes 
 Of waterfowl, mongst hissing windy reeds ; 
 To dread remembrance, which doth pierce our hearts ; 
 And every hour makes cold, whilst we are wake ; 
 Of War, invading war ! in Englands midst. 
 
 When lightening was bleak dayspring in the East, 
 We hastily parted forth. But when an hour, 
 The Sun was risen, with throbbing cheerful light; 
 Over the willows, the Cathedral towers 
 Of Peterborough, in the Mercian meads ; 
 Sun-gilded, glorious, rose before our sight. 
 
 A man, with an eel-pritch, we met then, showed us; 
 Where lay, past the next dykes, a beaten trode, 
 And causeway ; that to fenny Askeridge leads. 
 
 Glad were we, when, ere noon, we were come forth ; 
 With what might in their market place be bought; 
 For here too scarcity was, to break our fast. 
 
 Eager for news, might little there be learned. 
 Is noised now, that have three Invader Armies, 
 Made good their landings ; and, their first advance 
 Maintained, continue, by converging roads. 
 On London! Here our fellowship dispersed: 
 At afternoon, each going on towards his own. 
 
 I next day reached with other fugitive passengers, 
 To Stamford ; where by favour, in an Inn, 
 I found to rest and lodge: for little room, 
 Since yesternight, was in that ancient town ; 
 Where now Reservists mustering, and come in 
 Two territorial regiments. In the street. 
 Were floating rumours, thick as gossamers. 
 
 The magistrates' Bench and County Councillors sate, 
 Assembled in joint session, to devise 
 A remedy of public ills ; in the Court House. 
 
 They appointed guardians, which should take up corn, 
 And beeves ; and by bills on the County Rates, 
 
IN THE WAY TOWARDS STAMFORD 45 
 
 The Owners recompense : and should be one measure, 
 
 Of all such stock, for rich and poor alike : 
 
 So much each mouth, of public sustenance. 
 
 And passengers, come from more than twenty miles. 
 
 Might be relieved, with one days needful victual. 
 
 They now conferred, with surgeons of the town. 
 
 For service of the sick. 
 
 Mine host, much like 
 His Red Lion sign, (that figure-head had been. 
 Of some old captured sloop, in the French war ;) 
 Thick-shouldered, bearded, stood in his Inn door. 
 
 Right from his heart, unto every man, he spake : 
 And who, to honest Cartwright, did not pass 
 The time of day, was deemed but meanly of, 
 In Stamford. Soldier in his youth ; he was 
 Father of soldiers. Hearty, hard and strenuous 
 The mans right hand was ; and not less robust, 
 His love of Country, and homely English faith. 
 
 Cartwright towards evening, led from his Inn door. 
 Out of the town, the overflow of his guests ; 
 To a farmstead which he hired, past Welland bridge. 
 
 As many beds, as were there in that house ; 
 He among us shared ; drawing out from his cap, 
 Our lots. On strewed-down halm and sweet trussed hay; 
 Should lodge tonight the good mans other guests : 
 Was there no better room, in that poor place. 
 There also had our supper been prepared. 
 
 No superfluity had we of plate and cloth : 
 But a new pannikin being set to each ; 
 Was served a good meals meat, (of beef and broth ; 
 Hot stew, with garden-stuff,) to every guest. 
 
 Victuals ben hard to come by, (quoth mine host ; 
 Who waited, fatherly man, on us himself) 
 Of such meat as I have, a Gods Name, eat ! 
 And freely too. There's no call in this house, 
 To pay no reckoning : but who will, may put. 
 
46 THE CLOUDS 
 
 What liketh himself, into the kitchen box : 
 
 So may we all live; and God be thanked therefore. 
 
 Save England, God Omnipotent, in this war! 
 
 Upstood then one among us, whiles we supped ; 
 And spake for all. Invading War upon us, 
 Doth make all brothers, which be British born : 
 And heartily we, which here be fellow guests, 
 In wars distress, do Cartwright thank tonight. 
 Whereunto assenting, every man, laid down 
 His knife; clapped hands, with shout, like harvest-folk. 
 
 When somewhat of Easthampton I had told, 
 To who enquired, which next me sate around ; 
 And had of those, heard last exchange of news : 
 With one, with whom, at morrow, accorded was, 
 I should set forth ; I to the parlour passed. 
 Some played therein at cards, some rattled dice, 
 To drive the hour ; for there no drinking was. 
 Of dissolute cups, as in unlicensed house. 
 
 Voices raised in Contention, drew us then. 
 To the nigh kitchen. Cause was of debate. 
 Blaspheming of all that, which honest men 
 Hold worthy of reverence: as, RELIGION is 
 Bondage, a vain presumption. All Laws must. 
 Founded on Superstition, be revoked. 
 
 Shall all mens goods in common be henceforth ; 
 The marriage bond moreover should be loosed. 
 To fight for Country, a fools contention were ; 
 Seeing, to a wise man, all the World is such. 
 
 Like well, might I, (answered some churlish voice,) 
 Work at my bench ; though conquered England wor : 
 So wages was increased and made more sure. 
 Five shillin' more a week, should pay my rent: 
 What should I care for Country, I ; an I had that ! 
 
 Ha ! (quoth our host ;) who brawls there, who tonight ? 
 Uncertain of our lives and morrows light ! 
 No Gody quoth he, no laws, no marriage bond! 
 
IN THE WAY TOWARDS STAMFORD 47 
 
 By such false gabs, ye take away all worth. 
 
 To what end ? but to faint young soldiers' hearts. 
 
 I 've served in India, and scorpions we called such. 
 
 No longer may ye harbour in mine house ! 
 
 Up ! get you to your friends, our enemies ; 
 
 And fall tomorrow, by an English shot ! 
 
 Thus saying, laid Cartwright on his shoulder hold, 
 
 Whereto was no gainsaying ; and put him forth. 
 
 An old man spake, with peaceable voice, among us ; 
 (Small week-day tradesman and shrill Chapel Preacher, 
 Was he, on Sundays, of some neighbour village :) 
 Would such ones leave us Friends, a blighted World ; 
 Wherein no kindly blossom more should blow. 
 Would such ones take Religion away from us ; 
 Last consolation of mans wretched state. 
 
 The fool said in his heart, that he could measure 
 World, heavens height, Sea-deep and Earth beneath. 
 And waters under the Earth, on his thumb-breadth ! 
 When I with such an one meet, I choose me out, 
 An apposite text ; and there-against I preach : 
 Yea, until I sweat again, and hardened hearts 
 See sometimes weep ! 
 
 In that loud bugle-note sounded. 
 From Stamford ! We all rose, and hastened forth. 
 Then tramp was heard, intent our listful ears. 
 From Welland bridge, on towards our road ; (here like 
 A village street,) of soldiers' marching ranks. 
 They come ! was shouted from before each house. 
 Bright shines the moonlight : hundred voices greet, 
 From up and down the street, them that approach! 
 
 Mothers press to full bosoms their young babes. 
 Women, the fountain of their tears, cannot 
 Refrain : nor maidens, casting sobs, repress 
 The passion of their breasts ; in that those pass ; 
 Tall young men, that to battle march dnd towards 
 death ! 
 
48 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Brothers and fathers ; these that foot beside 
 The soldiers' ranks, to bring them goodly forth ; 
 Cannot all curb the strivings of their hearts : 
 But oft the Moon on that, on manly cheeks, 
 Shines ; men would proudly hide. 
 
 New shrill of pipes ! 
 {Honour to him, who the kings tunic wears:) 
 And breaks new rattling drum-beat lively forth. 
 Mongst thick farewells, and straining their bright arms; 
 Erect, alert, the young men hardily pass. 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF 
 THE DOVE 
 
 We journeyed forth, at morrow ; from the Dawns 
 First beckoning, from brow of benighted Earth ; 
 Her all lives creatures, unto daily feast, 
 Of sweet Sunlight : wherein, revived, awaked ; 
 From nights dead-seeming, doting, dream of sleep ; 
 Men rise up, to renew their tangled tasks. 
 
 In the first morning breath, with careful hearts. 
 Our purpose, over moor and hill, to pass, 
 By unfrequented paths ; we breasted forth. 
 
 Few passengers were, thus early, upon the road : 
 Townsfolk, fleeing towards the Country, out, from their 
 
 streets ; 
 (Not knowing where, gone forth from their homes, 
 
 to turn 
 Their steps for safety ; or wherein to trust !) 
 Fleeing Country-folk, towards the town, for sustenance ! 
 As diverse be the Counsels of mens hearts. 
 Where man met man, one commonly hath stayed ; and 
 
 asks 
 His counterpart ; What war-tidings, in your parts ? 
 
 Waygoers, some which we hasting overtook ; 
 (Fugitives the most, with burdens on their backs ;) 
 Seemed like to men that dream. With sighs, commune 
 We heard one with himself: another lifted, 
 Towards heaven, his hands. We passing, with Good- 
 niorrow ! 
 
so THE CLOUDS 
 
 Bleak, cast-down faces saw ; heard panting breaths. 
 
 Come, in our journey, to a railway bridge ; 
 We a train of trucks saw standing there beneath. 
 Permission asked and given, into the last 
 We climbed ; and conveyed thus, towards where we 
 
 would ; 
 Were saved a long foot-journey, o'er moorland rough 
 And waste. 
 
 At two hours' end we stayed : was telegraphed, 
 Had some mined bridges been blown up in front. 
 Enemies last night disbarked, in Humber mouth ; 
 Were marching towards the Shire Oaks, from their 
 
 ships. 
 We alighted, and pursued our way on foot ; 
 Holding the great North road, towards Vale of Trent. 
 
 Soon then we passed, before a manor house ; 
 And tents saw pitched and cannon in the park. 
 Was there, we leaning on a stile to rest ; 
 As chanced, fell with an officer, in discourse: 
 He hearing one of us recite a verse. 
 Of Englands golden Poet ; as he it might 
 Remember suddenly, in his hearts unrest ; 
 As thus : Dear Country^ O how doubly dear. 
 Ought Thy remembrance atid perpetual band 
 Be, to thy foster-child ; which from thine hand. 
 Did kindly breath and nourriture receive. 
 How brutish is it, not to understand ; 
 How much to Her we owe, that all us gave I 
 
 Of me, he would of burned Easthampton hear. 
 Of him we learned sure tidings of the War. 
 The Invader, Thames hath now and Medway blockt. 
 Portsmouth, those both from sea and shore, invest ; 
 And pulverise her defences, from the weakly 
 Fortified Wight, they occupied few days past ! 
 
 The Admiralty and our War-office, mainly informed 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 51 
 
 Are now, by airflyers, and through wireless grams. 
 Has lately on some arrested spy, been found 
 A secret chart, (I have it seen myself!) 
 Showing, as seems, the Invader Enemys scheme, 
 To be an expeditionary force ; 
 Five army-corps, two hundred thousand soldiers. 
 On Britains three sides, those to be disbarked. 
 By colours was then their objective shown ; 
 Englands great coal and iron fields : all between 
 Those Rivers of the North. The Isle of Man, 
 A fortified base : a strong foothold in Ireland. 
 Another army-corps to be held in readiness ; 
 To supplement casualties, with picked soldiers. 
 
 Now daily are horrid conflicts, in the element, 
 Of flying men ; whose hands, with dynamite armed, 
 Hurl bombs, to destroy arsenals and sink warships; 
 And battle-fields to waste, with immense death. 
 What for air-flyers, no fortress now is safe. 
 Nor arsenal ; no, nor camp, nor marching soldiers. 
 
 Encounters have been daily, and battle-frays. 
 Without cohesion, lacking comradeship, 
 Nor ammunition, nor their transport ready ! 
 Unequal our boy-levies be to stay 
 The Invaders daily advance: nor them to lead, 
 Suflficient be our elementary officers. 
 
 They are beat back, by the Enemys disciplined host, 
 In battle ; (an armed weight, of Eastlanders ; 
 Immense tide come up, over our sea-cliffs;) 
 As rushes by the wind. Put to the worse ; 
 They, a bleeding rout, become a flying press. 
 
 Moreover Invader armies always fight 
 More stiffly in Land they violate ; where they durst 
 The less, as mongst resentful folk, mishap. 
 
 He led us in, to share his evening meal. 
 We sate at board. Shall warfare never cease f 
 My wayfellow said. And he : I heard, indeed, 
 
 4—2 
 
52 THE CLOUDS 
 
 One lately found, in the United States ; 
 So the air to charge, with wireless venimous waves ; 
 That might be a Country withered, in a moment ; 
 And all the breath of Life therein destroyed. 
 
 This Officer now was looking, to receive 
 His marching orders. Of the Sacred Band, 
 We asked. Their Wedges daily are wont, he said, 
 To take on them the most arduous enterprises. 
 Invincible they themselves, as acute steel. 
 Cleave the Enemies battles and retard his march. 
 So many are fallen, that from the League of Patriots, 
 They supplement losses, in their gaping ranks. 
 
 Were, as he spake, brought in to him despatches ; 
 By his orderly ; which of pressing import seemed : 
 For hastily risen, knit hands ; he went out from us. 
 
 But we, being well refreshed, departed thence ; 
 Towards a great village, not now far in front ; 
 Whereas we hoped to lodge. As we approached, 
 We met more marching soldiers ; that, with throngs 
 Came forth. Mothers and maids their tunics kissed. 
 An hundred hands them proffered homely gifts ; 
 Tobacco and fruits, to solace their nights march. 
 After their ranks, came wains of the Red Cross. 
 Then heavy transport rolled, in cloud of dust. 
 
 Come morrows day, when my companion fared 
 Homeward another way, I parted forth. 
 My course lay thence towards Valley of the Dove. 
 
 The blissful lark ascended o'er my path ; 
 Pouring forth transports, as he upward went ; 
 Caroling in heavens sunbeams, o'er Englands earth : 
 Unwitting of the heaviness of mens hearts. 
 
 I three days journeyed on, in weariness : 
 There sleeping, where the Sun upon me set : 
 There eating, where it fortuned me to find bread. 
 Fainting, I spoke to no man, as I passed. 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 53 
 
 Last, in an high and desolate coast, I was. 
 Beyond all drift-ways ; where, in leg-deep brakes. 
 Sweet whin, heath, broom and ling, appeared no token, 
 Of human trode ; nor pointed finger-posts. 
 Were my companions only whirring birds, 
 And starting hares ; all fearful of mans shape. 
 
 How pleasant is it, wandered from all ways, 
 And strength decaying ; at length, to look down, 
 On Doves fair-streaming Dale : to view from hence, 
 Beneath, lie her green pleasant meadows ; where 
 These wayworn joints, the long day forth, may rest; 
 And be refreshed from aching weariness ! 
 
 There may I drink my fill, and lie in the Sun ; 
 And listen to Doves waters' trickling sound, 
 Twixt his two banks, mongst his grey pebble-stones. 
 
 This brow is steep, and the descending path 
 Painful and grievous, to the sore of foot ; 
 Full all of rolling stones. Whilst I my breath 
 Withhold, and feeling sense ; the worst is past : 
 I am come, from cliffy brink, to tufted grass. 
 
 Stands one a-fishing yonder, in Doves stream, 
 (That shines thus shire and trembles in the Sun ;) 
 He whips for trout, else I am overseen. 
 Nigher to look on, worthy man this seems. 
 I'll ask my way of him : Goodmorrow, Sir ! 
 
 PiSCATOR. The like to you again. (Methinks it is 
 An English voice : no counterfeit spy he is ; 
 Who walks in garment of slain Englishman !) 
 I marvel, how you reached hither, from yond hills ; 
 Descending thus, by unfrequented paths ! 
 
 Carp. I durst not always go in the highways. 
 In these dark days, were folly to be found, 
 Alone, in some main roads of our own Land. 
 
 PiSC. True : and the enemies have passed nigh these parts. 
 We have seen their aeroplanes ; some have seen their horse. 
 
54 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Carp. Bear with me a moment ; so am I athirst, 
 
 Since yesterday ! {He goes downy to drink 
 
 And your fishing take none hurt, 
 
 Thereof; I will these waybeat fevered feet, 
 
 Now cool too ; sitting on this banks green grass ; 
 
 In Doves fresh, longed-for, blessed flowing River. 
 PiSC. Much wayfaring is a fever ; and cold water 
 
 Doth ease ; but not too much, used suddenly, 
 
 Outward or inwardly. I've known young men wither ; 
 
 Old men imprudent, even to die, therefore ! 
 
 And, will you rest, under this lime-trees shade ; 
 
 (Here I wont sit out noontide of the Sun ;) 
 
 Whose boughs, which hanging almost to the River ; 
 
 Be full, this Summer day, of sweet murmuring bees ; 
 
 You are welcome to an anglers company. 
 
 (I stand my rod and tackle up to this bough!) 
 
 Done is my fishing, for an hour or two. 
 
 And would you then continue anywhither ; 
 
 I, having notice of all Dove Dales paths, 
 
 Will bring you some way forward on your journey ; 
 
 Who, I perceive are, in these parts, a stranger. 
 Carp. I do Sir all accept, with thankful mind ; 
 
 Glad here to dwell an hour and find a friend. 
 
 And after that ; I would but enquire where, 
 
 A man may, for his penny, find to lodge. 
 
 I, a Summers night, might 6n this sappy grass, 
 
 Sleep out ; so have I many an one : is oft, 
 
 Days journey done, my steading a green bush. 
 
 But there 's no sustenance in the winds wild breath ! 
 PiSC. You look like one hath need of food and rest : 
 
 What news were in the parts, whence you arrive? 
 Carp. I am weary in body, and weary in spirit most ; 
 
 Dreading shall soon this Country of ours be lost ! 
 PiSC. Possesseth my soul likewise that grievous thought. 
 
 Sleeping and waking ; we live days of dread ! 
 
 Our eyes see darkness, Britains former State ; 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 55 
 
 As Summer Light, is passed away from us ! 
 But and you list ; tonight, I '11 bring you where, 
 You may partake of such things as we have ; 
 (Who are, you are to know, waf-fugitives,) 
 That lie encamped, in certain covert place. 
 
 For to be free, so far as with a stranger, 
 Discretion will allow; I like your looks: 
 Your words have set me thinking, whilst we speak ; 
 Of my dear Master Izaak Waltons friends. 
 
 See, his Cdmpleat Angler! bound in purple velvet; 
 Lies, (so I esteem it precious,) on my cloak. 
 I'd sooner lose some ruby, if I had it. 
 Than this small volume, which I con by heart ; 
 And bear it always about with me. In it 
 Parfume of heaven is, and souls holy thought. 
 
 I joy, whilst sometimes I, for Sun and weather. 
 Must sit and wait, therein to pore and look ; 
 Still studying to conform my spirit to his ; 
 Which was conformed to Christ and His first saints. 
 
 With him, I joy to hear chant of all birds ; 
 And this small teeming wavering infinite hum, 
 In the sheen air, and thymy web of grass ; 
 Of silver-winged flies, and derne creeping things : 
 All children of Lifes Breath, on my Doves brinks. 
 
 And rustling gurgling never-ending song, 
 Of these shire sliding waters ; wherein, like 
 Our fleeting lives, frail bubbles dance along. 
 And one day hope: if Heaven some ray of light 
 Will stream into my barren breast, to set, 
 To music. Oft methinks, in these fair meads ; 
 My master Walton turned his thoughts to verse. 
 
 Now by this Sun ; which is mine only clock, 
 When I go fishing, and our shadows cast 
 Upon the path ; since Noonday, an hour is past. 
 And with good luck, I Ve filled my creel already, 
 With trouts enough. I '11 prove but one more cast. 
 
56 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Of fishermans art : for know, that 't is an art ; 
 (And meet for only very honest men, 
 As Father Walton says.)... With this gnat-fly. 
 You 've seen me make, the dubbing of bears dun, 
 The whiles we talked ; although it fits not boast : 
 (A very killing fly, as Cotton saith). 
 
 Under this root, good graylings use to He: 
 And shall you see me, I hope, take presently 
 A brace or leash ; which you and I together 
 Will eat, on this fresh brink, in fellowship. 
 
 This, standing down the stream, whilst I looked on ; 
 He, with few handsome casts, achieved indeed. 
 PiSC. See you not their fine shapes, which Doves stream 
 breeds ? 
 For brightness as they living silver were. 
 Gather we some drift sticks, the freshet river 
 Hath cast up ; and with stover light our fire. 
 We call this Hunters -roast : when those are done, 
 You'll find them a good dish for hungry men. 
 
 So turning twice or thrice his savoury fish ; 
 He lifted cleanly from the coals. Had each. 
 For platter, ready a broad sorrel leaf. 
 We ate this meat together, with some bread 
 He with him had : and well were we refreshed. 
 
 And sith he spake ; Christ risen and the Twelve 
 With Him ; (I love to think, that they were fishermen !) 
 By the Tiberiad Lake, ate thus their fish. 
 Though a piece us lacketh of an honey-comb; 
 There fareth, lo ! many a golden bee here by us. 
 
 As we sate on, he said ; his manner was ; 
 Ere the last days made England desolate; 
 With rod and angle and gentle Izaaks book ; 
 Here happy hours to spend, free from Worlds noise. 
 PiSC. In these fresh meadows, yet his quiet spirit 
 Abides: where he, with Cotton, used to fish. 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 57 
 
 Meseems, from yonder honey-suckle hedge, 
 
 And from each primrose bank, I hear their voices 
 
 Yet cheerfully sound. Methinks, with them communing, 
 
 I sit, and see the throstle feed her young : 
 
 And mark, how all things fitly be disposed. 
 
 And ordered, by the Giver of all good. 
 
 I view the high procession of the Months ; 
 Beginning with sweet Springtimes budded boughs ; 
 When clothes the Earth Herself, with tender green ; 
 And starring, in refreshed late Winter sod ; 
 Pied daisies and glad celandine be seen. 
 
 When hangs the white flower blowing then in thorn ; 
 Leap glad-eyed children hither, gathering posies ; 
 Sweet violet, cicely, dainty ladies'-smocks ; 
 With jacinth, medleyed in the thicket grass. 
 
 Key-flowers, brave king-cups then, forget-me-nots ; 
 Whose living jewels, meynt with golden flags. 
 Loose-strife, trim meadow-sweet and water-mints ; 
 Whilst season is, deck my Doves river borders. 
 
 Sith Summer pools, dight all with water lilies ; 
 Which twining woodbine, eglantine and wild rose 
 O'erhang, with guirlands of sweet smelling flowers. 
 
 I trooping flocks see go in yonder bent ; 
 And hear the swunken plough-swain cheer his team. 
 And so, without offense, to God or man ; 
 I find the holiday hours, to entertain, 
 When I come hither fishing, of the time, 
 That lies before me : (short now stair it is ; 
 Not many steps more,) to a welcome grave. 
 
 Sometimes a brother of the angle, as 
 Is twixt all anglers trusty fellowship ; 
 Doth, in these early waters, with me fish : 
 One pleasantly, civilly both and wisely merry. 
 And many 's the good dish of trouts we take ; 
 Some for ourselves, nor fewer for poor folk : 
 Some too for neighbour friends. Our fishing ended ; 
 
58 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Last time this way my brother Raymond came ; 
 
 He trolled me out an old catch, as we turned home ; 
 
 Which comes now to my mind. Was that a verse, 
 
 He said, which long ago had Kit Marlowe made. 
 
 And likely our father Walton had forgot, 
 
 To put it into pretty Maudlins mouth. 
 
 And to the changeful yodeling of his voice ; 
 
 To sound. Doves valley-borders seemed again. {Song 
 
 Herdgroom. Thine eyes ben two cornflowers, they ben so 
 blue ; 
 Thy teeth dipped in milk, thy weed of the grey: 
 Thy kirtle is short : 
 Milkmaid. For light is my shoe. 
 Follow me, leaping over the lea. 
 
 Follow me over the hills so green. 
 Howt ! little herdboy, that leads in the hollow. 
 Rud is my cheek and brown is my chin ; 
 For Phoebus hath kissed me, both even and morrow. 
 Follow, follow, follow ! 
 
 Then he sung 
 Another roundel light, in the like vein ; 
 Sir Walter Raleigh, Donne or Wotton made. 
 She. My Love, my Love, my Love, he will come, 
 With his basket of sales. 
 
 On all the wide hills, like to Cuddy is not one; 
 By four coasts, drawende down to the dales. 
 
 My Love, my Love, my Love ; he is come, 
 With his hackney from Ware. 
 
 Spring Mother, and see our tall Cuddy ride home: 
 Cud, what hast thou gotten, my dear } 
 He. Ike ha' got a scrip of pennies, for my cheese and 
 my kine ; 
 Fairings for mother and sister, among: 
 But, my dear heart, lo, yourn, all the new and the fine. 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 59 
 
 Kuss me soot, like when mother was young. 
 
 PiSC. There 's little truly in madrigals, but smooth sound 
 And skipping rimes. 'T is the round voice, wherewith 
 They 're sung doth please. 
 
 Carp. Old ballads best me please : 
 
 Those goodly ones of the right English time ; 
 As Robin, outlaived Earl of Huntingdon ; 
 And sweet Maid Marion with him in wood-paths ; 
 Bold Little John, Scarlet and his merry men ; 
 And, bounty of womanhood, the Nut-brown Maid. 
 
 PiSC. What said I ere.^..Ah ! As zve went home. That was 
 Mine house, whither came ofttimes cheerful guests: 
 An old beamed Hall, which in old garden stood ; 
 Where erewhile dwelled a family of Cottons friends. 
 And I, ended my merchandise in the World, 
 Lived there withdrawn. It left was locked and barred ; 
 With all the goods of mine old age therein, 
 When we forsook our villages. The Eastlander sith, 
 Hath burned all, house and homestead, to the ground : 
 (...I live in faith of the Eternal Good; 
 And look to Heaven ! for my few days to come !) 
 
 My manner is, since have I no more house ; 
 Till even of the day, to tarry here : 
 And only, in then late shimmering and dusk eve, 
 Return to our Cave-camp : (for to the enemies' 
 Air-flyers, we would not, when these hills they pass. 
 It stood revealed !) which, as an old man goes. 
 Is hence an hour, over uneven paths. 
 
 Carp. What is that covert place? 
 
 PiSC. A bay it is 
 
 Round-girt by mountain rocks ; not manifest, 
 Till you arrive ; whose mouth a narrow cleft : 
 Whence issue springs, which lost beneath the earth ; 
 Pass, like the mole, to join this rivers course. 
 
 In Britains antique wars, tradition is ; 
 That hid hold, for a Place of Surety was ; 
 
6o THE CLOUDS 
 
 Whither repaired men from their enemies. 
 There thrice withdrew Caratacus his caterfs. 
 There Roman Britons, from the Saxon sword ; 
 Saxons from Danes, lurked ; Angles from proud 
 Normans. 
 
 But yet I lack your tidings ; which, since when 
 We have been friends, I impatiently wait to hear. 
 
 Carp. We have eaten bread together, which makes friends. 
 Weary, from burned Easthampton, I arrive. 
 
 PiSC. You look right sorrowful, for so young a man ! 
 
 Carp. And so I am. I lost there friends, and saw 
 Enough to make a young man old, and old 
 Man groan, in the remembrance, in his dreams. 
 And both dream waking. 
 
 PiSC. Homely your speech sounds. 
 
 Carp. I am Derbyshire born : in Essex have I learned : 
 (Is that wide plain-land, clay-fields, without rocks!) 
 East Anglian tillage and land stewardship. 
 
 Was bitter smell of fire yet in the fields ; 
 When having but this rent coat on my back. 
 And little spending-silver in my purse : 
 I took my homeward journey in haste; which was. 
 To see my lately widowed mother safe : 
 And all the way have measured on my feet. 
 
 PiSC. Heard you late government order .^ To report them 
 
 Be all young men, for military service. 
 Carp. I heard it not: in me shall be no lack. 
 PiSC. Had disciplined been, our young men that we have; 
 
 Should an invincible army have been made. 
 
 Men are downhearted, that begin too late ; 
 
 When enemies hem us in, on every part. 
 Carp. What London news? 
 PiSC. No certain tidings reach us. 
 
 We are longtime without posts, and without telegraphs 
 
WAYFARING, TO THE VALLEY OF THE DOVE 6r 
 
 The railway is broken up, the wires are cut : 
 In many parts, the roads be held against us. 
 Is everywhere scarcity, ruin, penury, want. 
 
 As for the Midlands ; in the Industrial towns, 
 Closed the great Banking-houses have their doors. 
 So it must be, when all draw out gold at once : 
 Being built on intricate credit, the affairs 
 Of trade, and intercourse of merchandise. 
 
 Each day there 's rumour of new battle lost ; 
 Discomfiture, overthrow: some new advance, 
 In Britains soil, of the Invaders foot: 
 Another city is ransomed, burned or sackt ! 
 
 First cause were the malignant politicians ; 
 (Called, in derision. Statesmen, are such blanks ;) 
 Whom England, in Her dotage, hath brought forth. 
 Had they foreseen the morrow of time unborn ; 
 (But that was far beyond their purblind ken !) 
 This last extremity of Britain had not been. 
 
 Each Party outbiddeth other in the State ; 
 That sinks or swims, but through the greedy vote, 
 Of blind, vindictive, Mafeking populace. 
 
 Is not the manhood of this Isles grown sons. 
 Four millions ; able to bear patriot arms ? 
 An hundred plus an hundred, plus an hundred, 
 Plus hundred, plus an hundred, British Legions : 
 Say an hundred army-corps !... An infinite wood: 
 Which we, with little sacrifice, might have had, 
 Of bayonets, in young valiant mens right hands : 
 A sure defense gainst Britains foreign enemies. 
 
 But see ; whiles we sit long, the Sun forsakes us. 
 The chill is come : time is we take our way. 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 
 
 The Fugitives Camp. And is that, now in evening gloom, 
 a flame-lit bay; full, amidst mountain rocks, of flickering 
 shadows : as wherein many supper-fires, of homeless village 
 folk, are burning upon the wild ground. 
 
 The destitute people, ordered, in village communities ; are lodging 
 in cabins, booths a7id bowers, shelters of thatched hurdles 
 and tilted wains. Backward, the mouth of a vast cavern 
 may be dimly discerned. 
 
 Shrill voices of children resound: that linked with daisy chains, 
 are playing ; some at horses, leaping from fire to fire ; and 
 other go dancing heydeguyes, round around their Daisy 
 Queen. 
 
 Carp. That joy was in the World ! I had forgot. 
 PiSC. Yet the Earth brings forth Her flowers; the sweet 
 herb springs 
 
 Unwitting of our ills ; and cheerful songs 
 
 Be heard, of birds : (Ware here, these stepping-stones ! 
 
 We pass a brook.) Before you lies our Camp. 
 Watchman. Who goes there.!* 
 PiSC. Friend. 
 
 Watchman. Thy name, friend? 
 PiSC. Councillor Truman. 
 Watchman. Pass Councillor Truman. 
 Truman. With me is a friend. 
 
 A Passenger. 
 Watchman. He must to the Registrar. 
 
 {Before the Registrars Cabin 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 63 
 
 Registrar. Name? 
 Carp. Carpenter. 
 Registrar. Son of....? 
 Carp. Edward Carpenter, 
 
 Late vicar of Great Farley. 
 Registrar. Occupation ? 
 Carp. Land Agent. 
 Registrar. Destination ? 
 Carp. That's my Regiment. 
 Registrar. The reason why, young m^n, I ask ail this ; 
 
 Is an Order come down from our County Council ; 
 
 Made for arrest of spies : for some of them, 
 
 Disguised, speak English perfectly. You may pass, 
 
 With Councillor Truman. 
 TRUM.A.N. I will bring him on, 
 
 To our Council fire.. ..See there! they a-warming sit! 
 
 Village Councillors, sitting some on sacks, some on 
 bundles of heath, about a camp fire. 
 
 Truman, {with Carpe7tter.) We wish you a good even, 
 gentlemen ! 
 
 A Councillor. Whence come you, neighbour Truman ? 
 
 Trum. From the River. 
 
 And found this friend there wayfaring, come from far : 
 Faint, and footsore, forwandered on the moor ; 
 Repairing to his home in Derbyshire. 
 A brother of the angle I would he were. 
 
 A Councillor. From whence? 
 
 Trum. From burned Easthampton. 
 
 Councillors. He is welcome here. 
 
 A Councillor. I '11 cast more furze on, and this bough of 
 juniper. 
 For a sweet smell : At least enough of such, 
 Poor comfort, have we, for a new-come guest. 
 
 Carp, {sitting down.) A pleasant blaze ! 
 
 Trum. I, by your leaves, a moment. 
 
64 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Will to our cave-larder, with these speckled trouts. 
 
 {Departs 
 A COUNC. Last night I dreamed, of famine; and heard said: 
 
 There soon should not be left;... not in all England! 
 
 A strike of corn, that love might buy or gold : 
 
 But men, like forest beasts should fight, for bread ; 
 
 And desperately trample under foot heavens laws. 
 Another C. Were that indeed to die before our deaths. 
 
 (A dish is brought 
 Bearer, of the dish. Tonight 't is bruised wheat pottage, 
 sod in broth : 
 
 Tomorrow, Sunday, better shall we have. 
 
 'T is no more sport we use, but poachers art ! 
 
 And daily are we learning gypsy-craft ; 
 
 To make our slender victual seem enough. 
 
 What may in mine, or other gentlemens fields. 
 
 Snares, springes, dragnets take, is for the pot. 
 
 We've many mouths to feed. Besides this night, 
 
 I heard say, is fetched the quarter of an ox. (^Departs 
 A CoUNC. That's for our young men soldiers, we expect. 
 Truman, returned, {to Carp.) All at our cooking ranges, 
 serve by course : 
 
 We fare here all alike in our repast. 
 Carp. Who was he lately here? 
 Trum. That's our good squire! 
 
 Chairman of sessions, County magistrate. 
 
 And every day save this, (when his turn is, 
 
 To serve our Council mess,) he sits down with us. 
 
 Tonight amongst the cooks his daughters are. 
 
 His hall, his woods ; (would were to say no more :) 
 
 The Eastlanders burned ; and they, as we, be poor. 
 A CoUNC. 'T is neighbour Trumans turn to bless the dish 
 Trum. In the Name of Him Who made us. Lord of Life 
 
 And Death ; and dear remembrance of His Christ ! 
 
 {They sup 
 Carp. Where be your beasts? 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 65 
 
 Trum. Driven to the forest side : 
 
 But pasture is there Httle more than moss. 
 
 Carp. Your sheep .'' 
 
 A COUNC. Hid too : the sheep have been reserved 
 
 And most horned beasts, for them that fight for us. 
 
 \The Squire returns, with a can of hot tea 
 and a nest of cups. They drink round.] 
 
 Squire, {to Truman.) I bid your friend, the Stranger, to my 
 fire ; 
 Where sit with me the other guests tonight. 
 Truman. I '11 call then for him ; when is hour to rest. 
 
 {The Squires hearth 
 Squire. I bring a new-come guest. You surely have heard. 
 
 Of burned Easthampton. He is journeying home 
 
 Thence on his feet ; and only this night reached us. 
 A Gentleman. He is welcome. 
 A Merchant. So say I. 
 Squire. Please to continue. 
 
 You were in some discourse. 
 Merchant. To end my tale: 
 
 Buying and selling and the interchange 
 
 Of wares and every kind of merchandise ; 
 
 And beasts, both sheep and neat, hath well nigh ceased. 
 
 What yeoman jogs to market, in these days? 
 
 Few can pay their old debts. The full-fed enemies, 
 
 All corn sequester, both in barn and stack : 
 
 And meal they find, in chandlers' shops laid up ; 
 
 They seize to use of their invading armies. 
 Squire. The effect of such inhuman policy is: 
 
 Naught left is to the people of the Land ; 
 
 Of all that was their own, that they might eat ! 
 Gentleman. The scarcity is such, that where I lately 
 passed ; 
 
 I hunger-starved families, scattered to salt-shore. 
 
66 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Saw feed on cockle-shells, wentle-traps, cast-up wrack ; 
 Whereof they a jelly cooked : but hardly might 
 That keep life in their bodies, as they said : 
 And even of such, they found not half enough. 
 Merchant. We soon shall be a famished multitude. 
 
 Gentleman. But harken; how doth there from another fire, 
 
 Soul-ravi-shing arise, shrill, round and clear. 
 
 As throstles throat, empassioned womans voice ! 
 Voice. Love, fteavenly-born, is breathed in our breasts ; 
 
 Breath of a Divine Spirit, which all pervades ; 
 
 That soul is of the World ; and burns in us, 
 
 Like to a sacred flame, with incense fed. 
 Gentleman. Who sings these heavenly notes, with human 
 
 throat ? 
 Squire. One of our women riders in the war. 
 
 Renowned for prowess and her lofty verse ; 
 
 Which echoing through the ages, still shall sound ; 
 
 And as she sings, a trance falls on mens hearts ! 
 
 She is c6me in, with her ambulance, to pass 
 
 Her Sunday in the fugitives' cave-camp. 
 But it a season of mourning is with her. 
 
 For her betrothed loved youth, these days she weeps ; 
 
 Who first to fall for England in the war : 
 
 Whence sound the raptures now of her free spirit. 
 
 That utter from her lips, as wailful lays. 
 
 Such daily outpourings, Sibyl-like, she hath ; 
 
 Warbeling on height, like as can other none ; 
 
 Save only the love-longing, love-lorn nightingale ; 
 
 That thrills the empty air, with living song. 
 
 'T is but meseems her prelude : suddenly ceased 
 
 She hath : yet we may presently hear the rest. 
 
 When Sister Gertrude sings, the camp lies hushed : 
 
 Then all take up the burden of her verse. 
 
 Now is it for the fallen, a shrill lament ; 
 
 Now a patriot plaint, foreshowing her Nations death. 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE (i'j 
 
 Now her soul-song outrings, in lofty notes ; 
 When she, the peerless poetess that she is ; 
 Hath wept to heaven, and subdued our hearts. 
 Like as that bird, which Inns in the sheen leaves, 
 Plains now, now chides ; exults then in his pride : 
 Or chants sweet loves content, by his mates nest. 
 
 But hark ! 't is that self gentle bird, whereof 
 We newly spake, that gurgles in his trance ; 
 On some fresh spray, in the moonlight, amidst 
 That haythorn grove, which borders nigh this place. 
 
 ItcJiu, swat swat; 
 Chti-chi chu-chi chu-chi, chu-chi: 
 Occhi wocchi wocchi wocchi wocchi ! 
 Gentleman. Though but of worms he eat ; like reed 
 melodious, 
 He hymns loves bliss, with that small warbeling throat 
 Of his : which in fowls' tongue, seems clepe to us ; 
 Breme winter past, is comen in the feast. 
 On Earth, of Sum^ner-gladness ! (Earth, where scant 
 Mens raven-spirits find aught but discontent.) 
 
 Chji-ti-ti, chu-ti-ti, chii-ti-ti, tdti ! 
 Toti, wi-chu wi-hi ; dwih, hi-hih ! 
 (Wherein each hour our brethren fall in death, 
 For Britains Life!) Hih-hi hi-hi ! 
 Owih, hnit-huit, churru ; zdj-zdj ! 
 Such the bard-birds descant ; whilst dreamed our hearts! 
 
 Gentleman. What said you erewhile, that Sister Gertrude 
 
 was ? 
 Squire. Affianced happy spouse, 't is said, she was. 
 She her beloved youth mourns ; one far excelling 
 All of like age, in high heroic worth ; 
 Blameless, of noble aspect, hardy, ingenuous ; 
 Of the antique faith and cheerful countenance ; 
 Her souls dear complement. 
 
 5—2 
 
68 THE CLOUDS 
 
 He, at his Wedge-head ; 
 Mongst vowed men, brothers all ; that elect manhood 
 Of Britains sons, each one most valorous ; 
 Fighting for England, on the Foster Strand ; 
 Pierced, by blind whirling shot, was first to fall ! 
 
 Each had, unknown to other, in what hour 
 Waked drowsing England, dread alarm of war ; 
 Issued from ancient houses, to partake 
 With the forefighters. He marched ; in whom mind 
 Was to great enterprises, with his Wedge; 
 And fell at the Eastlanders landing in the Wash. 
 
 She deems, now infused his forepassed sacred spirit, 
 In her ! When burden of her soul, she chants : 
 So her notes ben sad attuned, that quake the chords. 
 With bitter-sweet pang that hear, of human hearts ; 
 And tremble on eyelids secret burning drops ; 
 As pearling dew, upon all spires of grass ; 
 And wither young mens brows to Winter looks. 
 
 Sister Gertrude, {smging.) Guests of a day, upon 
 this long-aged Earth, 
 Gropers in forest darkness, are we here, 
 Mongst formless shadows. Like to flitting spark, 
 Of heavens swift Light and everlasting Force ; 
 Our life throbs in a World, which itself dieth. 
 A God-breathed life ; but that is like to voice ; 
 Which though it linger, fadeth soon to naught. 
 
 How dost Thou O Heaven, that waked us unto Life 
 Deny thine offspring guidance in Lifes paths : 
 (As this derne World were widowed of Thy love !) 
 Yet once ; Speak ! for Thine holiness, from on height 
 What is the destiny of our orphan being? 
 
 Why sufferest Thou Earths dust, our Dwelling-place, 
 To be a World of pain ? What have we wrought, 
 What have our fathers wrought ? that come is on us. 
 Destroying calamitous war ; our Nations Death ! 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 69 
 
 If art Thou, O Infinite, stars' cold soundless Steep; 
 That elemental Wrath, which knoweth no Ruth : 
 What hope remaineth ? whereon to stay our hearts. 
 Mens generations travail, sigh and pass : 
 And givest Thou no more sign, to them that lift 
 To Thee, their prayer-worn hands, from all the Earth ! 
 
 Where is the Shadow of His Wings, for them 
 That fear Him ; the Preserver, Lord of men ? 
 And thou, one of ten thousand, wast, j'oung man ; 
 (That seemed a banner of the Sacred Band ;) 
 The first upon thy Foster-Strand, to fall : 
 And overflowed salt billows, on that sand, 
 Purple with thy lifes blood, thy godlike looks ; 
 Which seemed, say they which saw, to smile in death : 
 (For Love of Country stronger is than death!) 
 Those godlike looks, which I shall see no more. 
 
 I may not mourn, though be thy death my death ; 
 (For Britain, was thy death!) thy life so lost.... 
 
 [MoTigst hubbub cries of ivelcome, is Jieard a tramp of many 
 7narching feet. The Camps fires, on that part, blaze ?//.] 
 
 Squire. That is our new raised company, of armed young 
 men ; 
 
 Come in, to pass here Sunday ; and bid farewell. 
 
 But hark ! It is her voice outrings again. 
 Sister Gertrude. Swelling with indignation every heart ; 
 
 Gainst the insolent Enemys strong invading force ! 
 
 Each one, as Britains champion, bear his part. 
 Many Voices. Each one, as Britains champion, bear his part ! 
 Sister Gertrude. Albe those in our midst, faint not your 
 
 hearts. 
 Many Voices. Albe those in our midst, faint not our hearts. 
 Sister Gertrude. For those shut-in, if we retrieve again 
 
 The Sovereignty of Seas, in Island Britain ; 
 
 Where every mans hand armed against them is ; 
 
 Should, little and little, waste away among us. 
 
70 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Many Voices. Shall, little and little, waste away among us. 
 
 Sister Gertrude. Fight for all that is worth ; dread not, 
 young hearts, 
 The hazard of your youth, to be cut off. 
 Doubt not to die the death of Patriots ! 
 
 Many Voices. Fight for all that is dear! Dread not our 
 hearts 
 That hazard of our youth, to be cut off: 
 Nor doubt to die the death of patriots. 
 
 Sister Gertrude. Shall your lost youth, living in all our 
 hearts ; 
 Be counted, to the Fatherhood of this Nation. 
 Women, unto whom, at other times, becometh 
 A comely reticence most. Britain expects 
 Much of you now. Armed women, will we follow 
 Our brothers in the van ; to succour them ; and 
 Affront, with them, one glorious battle-death. 
 How else should we that Gift of Life repay ; 
 Which to our Mother Country we all owe ! 
 
 Sudden, she cried, with loud resounding voice ; 
 
 That flute-like, fateful, echoed round from Cliff, 
 
 On all the fugitives' camp : What ails Thee, Britain ? 
 Mingled Voices. What ails Thee, Britain? Unpreparedness! 
 Sister Gertrude. England, what ails thee? 
 Voices. Discord, Civil Strife I 
 Other Voices. Decay of National Spirit! 
 Sister Gertrude. The Spirit is Life, 
 
 Of every Nation ; whereby a People alone 
 
 May, amongst Worlds emulous Nations, be preserved. 
 
 What Country it lacketh, sick is unto death. 
 
 By only virtue can be saved a Nation. 
 Many Voices. By virtue only, can be saved a Nation ! 
 Sister Gertrude. Mongst Nations, only a People may 
 endure, 
 
 That, in both arts excells, of Peace and War. 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 71 
 
 Many Voices. Mongst Nations, only a People cmi endure; 
 That, in both arts excells, of Peace and War ! 
 (She ceased, midst hum of voices, from all hearths.) 
 
 Sith Councillor Truman, friendly came again, 
 To show me the appointed sleeping place ; 
 Past poor clay ranges of their cooking hearths. 
 
 He showed me, in the crags eaves, their larder shelf; 
 Where victual was laid up, near the caves mouth. 
 Under the stony roof beyond, he said, 
 Which shimmering watchlights showed, the Infirmary 
 
 was ; 
 Where the sick lodged, safe from night dews and tempest. 
 There next, the shelter-place was of daily guests. 
 Strewed down with heath. He left me there to rest. 
 
 Risen from my bed-straw, when first Summer Sun 
 Gilded, with his broad streams, the winding cliff; 
 I found, where flowed a waterbrook from beneath. 
 Soon busy murmur rose, midst the cave-camp. 
 Of many stirring to their early tasks ; 
 And breakfast in the ranges was prepared. 
 
 And whilst yet early Sunday morrow was ; 
 Trooped children by to school ; (a sheltered place, 
 Mongst crooked crags.) When, after that, had passed 
 An hour ; I saw the fugitive village-folk 
 Wend forth, assembling, towards their Pulpit-rock ; 
 To divine Service, with uncovered heads ; 
 Where they should hear their Preachers fructuous voice. 
 There came a Company with them, khaki-clad ; 
 Young soldier-sons of the Camps fugitive families. 
 
 Vicar of one of their burned villages was 
 That venerable parson, with white locks ; 
 Of ruddy, cheerful pious countenance ; 
 Pleasant to weary and heavy-laden hearts : 
 Christs under-shepherd, father of his flock. 
 
72 THE CLOUDS 
 
 On him was his Lords Spirit; each head of sheep 
 Calling, by name. 
 
 Unto him might all resort, 
 Both young and old : and comfort each one find, 
 And godly counsel, in his several case. 
 And in the hour of death, his faithful voice, 
 They heard, commending them unto God, in Christ. 
 
 And were it sin-sick soul, hell-footed, stained : 
 With fervent tears ; beseeching, that might not 
 This one sheep perish ; sheep, for whom Jesus died ! 
 All were he strayed. Nay, in any wise, that might not; 
 For His abounding infinite Mercys sake, it be lost ! 
 Still fasting on his knees ; and having power, 
 Through faith ; he strove, with God, till the last breath. 
 
 After prayers read ; stood, with the BOOK of LIFE, 
 Open in his right hand, that man of God, 
 Upon the pulpit-stone. And all, devout 
 Did look; that he the purposes should of God, 
 Reveal, (which, from foundation of the World,) 
 To us-ward ; and make known the mind of Christ. 
 
 When then, with reverent voice, wherein seemed 
 breathe 
 An holy music, he had humbly prayed : 
 He spake the text, which in his aged lips, 
 Sounded, as he, in God, our father was : 
 Be kindly qffectioned, one nnto another. 
 
 We which today lodge homeless, and withdrawn 
 To this great Hold and Cave of stony rocks, 
 Our temporal Refuge ; live. Beloved in Christ, 
 To Godward and our Home in heaven, more near ; 
 Than when, there many things, houses, worldly goods, 
 (Which now we lack,) were added unto us. 
 
 Herein, we better know our nothingness ; 
 That nightlong look, having none other roof. 
 On the fnfinite starry Majesty of Gods House. 
 
SISTER GERTRUDE 73 
 
 Beloved in Christ, what think ye? In these last days, 
 When God hath humbled us, casting to the ground 
 This Nations glory, hath He forsaken us? 
 My brothers, ah ! then indeed our heavy hearts ; 
 (But that be far from Him!) should die within us. 
 
 Or who will say, The Lord is weary of us ? 
 The Angel of Peace is gone up from the Earth ! 
 Fear not : A sparrow falleth not to the ground. 
 Without your Father! Though the Lord cast down : 
 He also can restore a Nations State. 
 
 And ye, beloved young men, sons of my brethren ; 
 Children, whom God hath given me, in the Spirit: 
 Ye which have taken up arms, for Countrys sake! 
 Purge ye your hearts, and cleave to living Christ ! 
 In WHOM shall ye not fear the bodys death; 
 If so be ye were called, (when ye shall look, 
 Upon Deaths face, and through the fire must pass. 
 That purifies ;) to give up your young breaths. 
 
 For Countrys cause this is ; labour therein ; 
 As ye would serve on Earth, your heavenly King. 
 In His Almighty Hand, which formed you, is 
 Both life and death. Now to HiM which sleepeth not; 
 Whose ears be open to our supplications ; 
 Who careth for us: this Congregation here, 
 Your parents ; and all faithful people with us, 
 Of Christ ; commit you, on whom was named the 
 
 Christ : 
 Lifting up hands to heaven, without cease. 
 
 We, which shall be left desolate, in this place ; 
 We pray, that the arrows of His Wrath might cease 
 Soon to afflict us: that would He accept 
 A Nations Prayer ; and that He would vouchsafe us ; 
 Giving our daily sustenance unto us ; 
 An happy Issue out of all our griefs : 
 Beside which brethren, all the former weight 
 
74 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Of sorrows, should seem light. 
 
 Seeing then beloved ; 
 That ye be One in Christ, our Righteousness ; 
 Bear ye each others' burdens ; and partake 
 With others' needs, in patience of the saints. 
 So may the Peace of God upon you rest. 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 
 
 When midday meat had, in the fugitives' camp, 
 Been served ; which well sufficed for thankful hearts ; 
 Would Truman visit round, with me, his friends. 
 We went then first, towards Sister Gertrudes ambulance: 
 But found her not : She lately was gone forth. 
 
 We found one Captain Worth, a wounded officer ; 
 Who had been mentioned in the first dispatches ; 
 Sitting beside his crutches, at an hearth. 
 
 He said ; he feared, soon would be little left us, 
 Of a free England, conquered shire by shire : 
 So huge the Invaders' military power. 
 He the Enemys scheme portrayed us, with his crutch, 
 As he it read : two tri laterals of assiege. 
 London, with Kent and Portsmouth, in the first : 
 Industrial Lancashire then, in the North West : 
 With merchant-cities of the Midland parts. 
 
 Wounded from three sides, partly Her Neck divided ; 
 Like hunted beast amort, now Britain lies ; 
 Bleeding to death, and nigh to yield Her breath. 
 
 Truman. I fear, lest might we trouble and molest 
 
 An Invalid, in hour when he should rest. 
 Capt. Worth. This little written book, of few stitched 
 quires, 
 To me is more than rest. A poesy, I was 
 Then reading ; when you, who are welcome here, 
 Whom I esteem of as my friends, came in. 
 Committed it to me, in hour he passed. 
 
76 THE CLOUDS 
 
 A friends cold dying hand, now under clod ; 
 Mongst his last words, as I him knelt beside ; 
 (Borne was he in, dying, from battle,) upon the grass. 
 
 He lived not fully an hour, after his wound ; 
 But hearts content had he, to die for England. 
 Were spots, he wiped away himself, of his 
 Life's blood, he for Her gave, those sacred stains ! 
 Trum. Was that a brother of the Sacred Band ? 
 
 (All owe them homage!) 
 Carp. (Love, undying honour!) 
 
 Captain Worth. Such was he. I saw them, youth and 
 age together, 
 (His Wedge of steel,) come on, with hymn of war ; 
 And strong, ingenuous, enter into fight ; 
 To accomplish that they purposed, to the death. 
 
 When, with the impulse of one man, they rushed, 
 (A disciplined effort, not tumultuous ;) 
 No vile desire encumbered their true breasts, 
 Of their vowed life ; that fought for Britain's life, 
 With their own deaths : they exult in their own deaths ; 
 For Britain ! 
 
 And being nigh them, with my Regiment, 
 (Then entering into battle,) I saw their onset : 
 Vanguard of brothers ; how the Enemys ranks, 
 They, irruption made, with shout magnanimous. 
 Pierced. I confound saw, hurl back, foreign swarms ! 
 
 Where they plant foot, there they abide till death. 
 They slay, till they are slain, to the last man ; 
 And yield no foot of land, defending Britain. 
 Could the Eastlanders their resistance not bear down ; 
 Which many of their best captains have lost thus. 
 
 I saw, sith ; where those ere defending stood ; 
 And whence had they advanced. The Wedge of steel, 
 Brother by brother, lay there thick together; 
 As fingers of your hand, empty of breath ; 
 In His sight Who made them ! Purple was, as an heath, 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND -jy 
 
 The Foster Shore ; blotted, where those contended ; 
 Deformed, trode down, with rusty patriot gore : 
 But not deformed their looks, that smiled in death. 
 Few, are those many worth : they execute all, 
 That virtue can, and arms of living men. 
 Is this one of their books. 
 Trum. Might we but hear it ! 
 
 Capt. Worth {reads). Men sleep with sorrow, and 
 waken with hearts grief; 
 Because they know their Country is not safe. 
 They ask of HEAVEN, with lean uplifted hearts ; 
 Might not those last calamities come to pass ! 
 Which they foresee ; England trod down by aliens. 
 
 The noblest End a man can level at, 
 Is his dear Countrys Service. He who hath not 
 The patriot sense is naught. 'Tis a sons part ; 
 To manfully maintain his Fathers House. 
 
 Children of dead men, we which orphans stand, 
 As at a sea-brim, upon sliding sand ; 
 The dark Decrees of Destiny, cannot sound. 
 
 Unknown to us, the High Purposes be of God. 
 New graves be opened daily ; and who go down 
 In them, as leaves cast of a former year ; 
 Be shortly unremembered. The last hour 
 Is written, in Heavens Great Book of Destiny, 
 Of souls not yet engendered. Measured are 
 The graves of generations for to come. 
 
 Shut up, in thick soul-darkness of this flesh ; 
 With us Religion is, to offer up 
 Our souls and bodies, in our Countrys Service. 
 For this, we live ; we endeavour every hour. 
 
 The stars of heaven portend, that fatal hour 
 Is nigh, nay even at our very door; 
 When sudden storm must whelm on Thee of War: 
 
78 THE CLOUDS 
 
 On Thee, amidst the seas, cliff-walled Isle Britain. 
 
 Vast shadow dims Thee, Isle Albion, of dread cloud; 
 Wherein dark wrath of long-forbearing Heaven, 
 Against Thee, increased to blackness, lies enrolled : 
 That ruin must in dire tempest, and rain blood. 
 And they, which England might have saved : be laid, 
 (Ah, sorrow and heaviness !) long time under clod. 
 
 And War: When kindled Wars destroying breath; 
 Shall War not pause, till fallen be the Lands youth. 
 Aliens from overseas, in the first days ; 
 Five times ten thousand men, the flower of Britain, 
 Shall slay. For such, wise foreheads clouded are. 
 With baleful care, and straitened be mens breasts ; 
 That commune, in each market-place, with bowed heads. 
 Ceaseth all joy and gladness from our hearths. 
 
 How bitter be the thoughts of patriot breasts ! 
 Enemies without forth ; enemies within our midst ! 
 Which last bewray the Rock of our defense. 
 A valorous People stand confused, distraught; 
 Brought to this pass of dread unreadiness. 
 
 When given to Thee was, Three-square Isle of Britain, 
 A time to set in order all Thine House ; 
 Thou wouldst not be disquieted, in Thy sloth. 
 Wherefore, unless the Fates be founden liars ; 
 Shall this Land be in servitude, to a Nation, 
 Which better is than Thou ; O oft-conquered Britain ! 
 
 And is there, ere those sorrows come to pass, 
 A pause, Alcyon days? Sons of good men. 
 Stand forth, for Love of Country, in your fresh youth : 
 And order you this day, in stedfast ranks. 
 
 Enure yourselves, through martial exercises ; 
 To bear the weight of arms, to increase of 
 Your strength and fortitude, in Britains service : 
 By virtue and your high purpose, to procure 
 This Nations safeguard, welfare and Her honour; 
 And emulate the prowd deeds of heroes past. 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 79 
 
 Should your help-brethren, of the Further Britains, 
 (Mother and Daughters, glorious Fellowship ; 
 A Fivefold Empire now, of Sister States:) 
 Well-seen in all the discipline of soldiers; 
 Find you unready, in what days they arrive, 
 From overseas, with corn in aid and arms : 
 And of their fathers' nephew be ashamed ! 
 
 A deaf man must be shouted to : a Nation 
 Slumbering ; must be roused-up, by trmnpet-note \ 
 Wake virtue, manhood, fortitude of Isle Britain ! 
 So heavy be Thine eyes, with strong Illusion ! 
 
 Murmur, like to vast angry swarm of bees, 
 On all their sea-strands, over against ours ; 
 New Nation, that hath longtime hated us ; 
 Without a cause, what though of kindred blood : 
 Now ready, in much war-shipping, to embark : 
 
 Britain, they, and Her Children, would supplant ; 
 And those confide, to pierce our battle-fleet; 
 And invade the White Isle, with immane armies. 
 
 Opening our eyes, out of that formless void ; 
 Womb of eternal darkness 1 whence we spring. 
 And whither we return. That which we erst 
 Discern, our mother is, our parentage, 
 Our brethren ; then the People of our Land ; 
 This Foster Soil ! which is a Common Bond, 
 Whilst life endures, to all men born therein. 
 
 That Love of Country, which constraineth us. 
 Doth every virtue comprehend. Teach us 
 The very fowls, which under heaven flit, 
 And field and forest beasts, after their kinds. 
 
 Those tender each, that little round of Earth, 
 Where were they fostered. And should Englishmen not 
 Their Island Britain love, above the World ! 
 
 God and my Country, uprising from night sleep, 
 Be our first waking thought : our hourly thought ; 
 Labouring all day, with glad intent of heart : 
 
8o THE CLOUDS 
 
 Our last, at night, after days hours well spent. 
 (Count every day that lightens, as the last.) 
 
 How little, of Earths round-rolling infinite years ; 
 (Herself to die, mongst the eternal stars!) 
 The portion is of our transitory being. 
 So should we order and endeavour us ; 
 That memory of good desert might follow us ; 
 And, for a patrimony, be unto our sons. 
 
 Founded and stablished, by the Will of heaven, 
 Is Britains Empire seated, on five seas ; 
 Of that great Ocean Stream, which girds the World ; 
 And the Five Britains, Homelands of Her sons, 
 Enfolds ; One Offspring of Her Island blood. 
 
 Like to fair waterlilys leaves, that rise. 
 Large-spreading on some waters crystal face ; 
 Where they, in flowering beauty, proudly ride ; 
 All nourished of one sap, from one stalked root ; 
 So, on the Main-Sea-deep, seem those to fleet : 
 And floweth in all, One Mothers vital blood. 
 
 Nor those are, though departed on the Flood, 
 Divided ; but, like fingers of one hand. 
 Be all of strong right arm, which Heaven hath made. 
 
 Keep well those Highways of the Deep, O Isles, 
 Which join your living members ; waterpaths 
 Of the Community of all English kin ; 
 One freeborn Commonwealth, of the Island tongue. 
 All that which is your own, maintain ; and hand 
 Down undiminished their Inheritance, 
 To your late children ; till nefarious war, 
 Twixt wrangling Nations, ranged, with ensigns spread; 
 That antique homicide battailous rage; with one 
 Accord, last being of all men, disallowed : 
 New Amphictyonic League, shall overall ! 
 Proclaim : Peace, from henceforth, of the whole 
 World ! 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 8i 
 
 What brother, under his own roof-tree slunnbers ; 
 Be he aye ready; as he who nightlong wakes 
 In field, to keep his flock ; or who, to ward 
 An house, till day, stands under heavens stars. 
 
 Contend each brother, to be of those iron- 
 Strong pillars, which this mighty Empire-frame 
 Sustain ; that is his Mother Britains House. 
 
 Each brother, in his chamber corner, hath 
 His field-equipment ready to his hand ; 
 With furbished arms. Prepared is he for shout ; 
 He daily attends, and nightlong he awaits, 
 When he lies down to rest ; To ARMS ! or sign, 
 By fire, in heavens high wide watch-hill, shot forth. 
 
 [Rockets be seen, motmting up in the distant night skies.'] 
 Mine heart leaps! Rockets see mine eyes upmount ; 
 And blood-red droop! Heavens holy stars! I dream not: 
 This signal to the dance of warfare calls us. 
 
 Up Soul and Being! No backwardness be in us. 
 Do on khaki ; haste thee, shoulder Englands arms ! 
 'T is hour we looked for. Wife and little ones, 
 Now swiftly embrace ; and o'er thy threshold, pass. 
 
 Mother, wife, children, sisters, in your grief; 
 Lifting your eyes, to these high holy stars ; 
 Weep for your Country ! shed not tears for us. 
 
 Family Voice.s. Husband, where goest thou? O father, 
 where } son, whither .-• 
 
 He. Our signal, to the night-stars, was shot forth! 
 All we, my dear ones, to our Rendezvous, haste : 
 To join Wedge of our brothers. Know whilst war 
 Endures, those are our Family in Englands field. 
 
 Father. Go thou with God ! 
 
 All. God be with thee! 
 
 Wife. Return, 
 
 With honour ; and that soon ! 
 
82 THE CLOUDS 
 
 He {departing). To all, Farewell ! 
 
 Now each brother, in Nights silent shrouded field, 
 The next way holds, to his appointed place. 
 \^rhe Wedges Rendezvous ; and that is a certain barn, 
 on an hill- side : Moonlight^ 
 
 Voices. Whereunto Captain-brother, hast thou called us? 
 
 Captain. Lighted air-riders, brothers, which by light 
 Of stars, this night o'erflew from the Mainland : 
 Bringing to England word ; the Easterlings 
 Great high-sea fleet, from all their havens loosed. 
 Conveying armies : they steer Westward forth ! 
 Our Metropolitan Council of seven, have to us ; 
 (With the elder brethren, which being now unapt, 
 Through tardy age, to warfare in the field ; 
 Yet with their saving counsel guide our steps ;) 
 Telegraphed, All Essex wedges to the Coast. 
 Form wedge my brothers ! 
 
 {A sound of shuffling feet and grounded arms 
 
 All Voices. Ready! 
 Captain. Carry ; pass forth ! 
 
 To build the living breastwork of our lives. 
 All Voices. To build the living breastwork of our lives. 
 Lieutenant. Sound your pipes, in the vanward, as we 
 march ! 
 
 Make music, to the lifting of our feet. {Pipes sound 
 All Singing. Lead on I with music in our hearts, we march, 
 
 Ready to battle. Certain only is; 
 
 That every man must die, in age or youth. 
 
 For the life of this Nation be our deaths ! 
 Captain. No sacrifice can for England be too much ! 
 Valiant young men, whose citizen virtue ere. 
 
 Was had in honour ; win, through new endeavour, 
 
 Fresh glory to your Nation, by prowd deeds ; 
 
 In the forefront, gainst Britains enemies. 
 All. For the Life of this Nation, be our deaths. 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 83 
 
 Captain. Dawn for us, brothers, new heroic days, 
 
 Of battle and long march, in cold and heat ; 
 
 Sleeps broken : night alarms, in wind and wet. 
 Lieut. Which all occasions are, to valiant soldiers, 
 
 Show worthy service. 
 Captain. Who is stricken down, 
 
 To death in battle ; gathered shall be laid, 
 
 Out of his brothers' arms, to soldiers' rest. 
 All Voices. For the Life of this Nation, be our deaths ! 
 Captain. Brief is his sacred pang, who, for the Land 
 
 Falls, of his fathers, glorious on his face. 
 
 Shall honoured be his name, at thousand hearths. 
 Lieut. Upon his brothers' lips, his worthy praise. 
 
 Endures. 
 Brother Hierophant. Unto Heavens infinite Ear ascends 
 
 A Nations prayer, unto his endless rest. 
 Captain. Who shall return, from brothers' strife to death. 
 
 In field of fight, with his vowed life ; he tokens 
 
 Shall bear of honour, in his living flesh;... 
 Lieut. Till his lifes ending ; scars illustrious ! 
 All Voices. We covet war-wounds, iti our Conntrys Service. 
 Captain. Though little weigh the effort of a man ; 
 
 Brothers, we knit together, battle-wedge 
 
 Of steel ; though few, shall cleave much enemies' force. 
 Hierophant. Be kindling clouds, before this rising Sun; 
 
 Omens of slaughter ; battle-fields, dyed in gore ! 
 Captain. Come life, come death ; we brothers live these 
 days, 
 
 In the hearts of the whole Nation. 
 Lieut. As we march ; 
 
 Make music, to the lifting of our feet. 
 All Voices. Lead on ! with music in our hearts, we march. 
 
 For the Life of this Nation, be our deaths. 
 
 [Two armed khaki-clad companies now are seen to 
 approach, by a converging road.] 
 
 6—2 
 
84 THE CLOUDS 
 
 A Brother. What companies yonder, clad and armed like 
 
 us? 
 Captain. We looked for other Wedges to arrive. 
 Lieut, {using a telescope.) South Seas' and West Seas' 
 Britons' Lodges, read 
 I on their ensigns, broidered round our Badge ; 
 The Wedge of steel. 
 Captain. By likelihood those be come, 
 
 By special train down from London. Hearken ! they 
 
 chant. 
 Sons of the Isle^ 
 
 {Chant heard of Companies approaching 
 
 Britannia, Thy dear Image gravest is, 
 On all our hearts ; whether our lives we lead, 
 In the Isle ; or Sister Britains overseas: 
 New Nations of Thy blood and Empire wide. 
 
 Bone of Thy bone, flesh of Thy flesh ; and breath, 
 O our Mother Britain, of Thy vital Spirit ; 
 One speech sounds in our mouths, in all the Earth. 
 Behold tis, one great Parentage of Thy sons ; 
 Which stand around about Thee in bright arms. 
 Shout, {frotn the approaching Cotnpanies.) Hail, Brothers ! 
 
 Britons all. 
 Homeland Company. Hail ! Brothers all. 
 Homeland Captain. Brothers, we haste, to knit with 
 
 yours, right hands. 
 An Overseas' Captain. Already knit our hearts. 
 Other Overseas' Captain. We with you here, 
 As one man, for this Homeland, are in arms. 
 
 [ They break ranks, and go to join hands. They reform then, 
 and march forth, with sounding pipes. The three Captains 
 pass on together^ 
 
 1 The Cliffs, p. 263. 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 85 
 
 First Overseas' Captain. What barbarous, what inhuman 
 hands could waste 
 This innocent Country-side, whereas we pass? 
 Fair homesteads violate, and these clay-cast cotes ; 
 Whence few poor and pale souls, risen at the Voice, 
 Of our armed-marching chant, gaze forth at doors ! 
 
 Home Captain. Souls, that have hardly meat enough 
 and cloth ; 
 To keep breath in their bodies, and upbring ; 
 Heirs of lean weary lives, their families ! 
 Whose portion is, to suffer daily want ; 
 And all their deadly days, be still undone. 
 
 Second Overseas' Captain. What evil-doers could give 
 new cause to such ; 
 To moan gainst them to heaven, from their cold hearths ! 
 * * * 
 
 Captain Worth. I find aught added, on this overleaf; 
 In hasty script, not easy to be read : 
 Beginning thus ; Britain, I Dedicate 
 My soul to Thee, which is a passing breath ; 
 And this my mortal body, of earthborn flesh. 
 And every gift of Fortune ; that I cast, 
 In Britains Treasury. We, for Britains life. 
 Do offer up the time-c6ming of our lives ; 
 Darkness embrace, cold death and nothingness. 
 
 Truman. A fervent patriotism ! Who hith writ this? 
 
 Captain Worth. There be, which Sister Gertrudes hand 
 see in it. 
 There 's somewhat yet here pasted in the cover ; 
 I had not seen before! What?...SOLONS HymN: 
 Papyrus, lately found in the FayAm ! 
 A Land of wonders truly. Antiquity even 
 Is ever young there. Much is found in Her: 
 That can I testify, who was quartered there 
 Once, with my Regiment. But I 've almost spent 
 My spirits. Would one of you then read it forth ; 
 
86 THE CLOUDS 
 
 My friendly new acquaintance? {To Truman) Would 
 not you Sir ? 
 Truman. I, under your correction that me hear ; 
 
 Will willingly: (a wang-tooth lacketh me here and there: 
 I 'm an old man.) 
 Bystanders. We all would gladly hear. 
 Truman {reading). O importable ignominy, O citizens ! 
 O disgrace 
 Of Athens, CiTY OF Pallas ! Young men, sons 
 Of Theseus wake ! Be not ye men, which thus 
 Dwell softly and careless of your citys harms? 
 Look down from Cecrops walls, yond sacred Rock ! 
 Gaze, from our Citys common Market Place ; 
 Whence daily all men behold, o'er Thetis Sound, 
 The Lovely Isle ; and view wave-glittering paths, 
 Which thither lead. This day, the vehement words 
 More weighty, of one a madman ! shall be found, 
 Than the old frozen prudence of the Wise. 
 
 The Rulers of this City are negligent ; 
 That were called Wise. Slumber this day all hearts : 
 They wallow in their sleep. Young men awake ! 
 Rouse you, remember manhood, and look up. 
 Is pride of Athens entered in your breasts t 
 Forsake the treacherous wine-cups; the hired laps 
 Forsake of harlots. Helms do on, iron plate: 
 Gird on the nimble thigh short furbished glaive. 
 Each take down, from his chamber wall, upon 
 His hardy shoulder, wavering long ash-lance. 
 
 As ye, which heavy armed, then pass the Gate 
 Piraean, way holding down to the beaked ships ; 
 Intone the lofty paean. Come there, the three- 
 Banked keels thrust forth ; (that seem, with hundred 
 
 feet, 
 To walk hoar waves,) with fury, unto the Deep. 
 
 And quickly armed men inshipped, and hoised sail 
 up; 
 
A BOOK OF THE SACRED BAND 87 
 
 Of new, loud hymn, well-pleasing to the gods, 
 
 All chant, with one great voice, to touch the stars ! 
 
 So shall your winged prows bridge the Nereids' Sound. 
 
 What man of you would suffer that were field 
 Withheld, by force, of his inheritance? 
 And will ye endure the Lovely Islands loss? 
 What boots it, men of Athens, to have strong 
 Warworthy limbs, fair form and front of brass ! 
 And bear within a craven shrinking heart ? 
 
 This day, shall be infamed, that young mans name; 
 Who, (and he being able-bodied !) lurks from sight, 
 Dismayed, in privy corner of his house ; 
 When Athens' valorous youth march forth, to fight ! 
 
 And when we stand before our enemies' face, 
 Well ordered ranks ; kindled each swelling heart. 
 With warlike ire: for every battle-stroke, 
 Of theirs, yield thou a stouter counter-stroke : 
 And they be more in number, render twain. 
 Pallas, helm-clad forefighter, shakes divine, 
 Her spear, wherewith the giants she put to flight ! 
 Was heard her shield to thunder in the night, 
 From yonder sacred cliff: in sign, She, goddess. 
 Protectress of this City, with us fareth forth. 
 
 Captain Worth. Thanks, and well read. 
 
 Truman. 'T is worthy to be read. 
 
 Captain Worth. Though of no certain parentage be the 
 verse ; 
 And lived wise Solon very long ago. 
 Moreo'er the term trireme, I mistrust in it. 
 Besides, not less our enemies, it than us, 
 Might hearten. Else Solons words, (as well beseems 
 A nephew of Codrus old,) breathe patriot spirit. 
 Howbeit this little volumes written leaves ; 
 Would I not part with, for its bulk and poise, 
 Of gold refined. 
 
 There stood beside me one ; 
 
88 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Who, of the Eastlanders' landings on our shores, 
 Enquired: 
 Captain Worth. Are many undefenced coasts, 
 
 Blind creeks and sullen shores, unwatched, in England. 
 In four, they came to land. Covered they were, 
 By fire of their, ranged backward, battle-ships' guns. 
 But in the fifth attempt, were the kings enemies. 
 From the Eastway, foiled ; which had, by feints, our 
 
 navy 
 Drawn off. Lying at anchor, they were found. 
 By British cruisers. Cause was sudden tempest, 
 Of raving winds, rolling great water-banks ; 
 On vast sea-flood forth, towards the land; that flung 
 High, hollow breaking waves, on the foreshore : 
 Whereby were those, when they arrived, storm-bound ! 
 
 Midst buffeting gusts, then fearful conflict raged. 
 Three of the Enemys tall convoying warships, 
 Foundered. The rest were chased and taken. Were 
 
 taken 
 Most Eastlander transport ships, conveying soldiers. 
 
 Some tempting, midst the fight, their cables slipped, 
 To make an offing ; holed by English shot. 
 Sunk within sight of land. Other, which dragged, 
 Wind-driven, their anchors, fell on a lee shore. 
 
 There long-shore fisher-folk run down boldly, amidst 
 The flying spume ; from surges' seething foam, 
 Snatched, staggering, at lives' risk, from death, their 
 enemies ! 
 
CARPENTER NICHING HOME 
 
 From Truman and the Camp of fugitives ; 
 Well-ordered, full of worth in wars distress ; 
 Now evening drawing on, and well refreshed ; 
 I parted, with two other that went forth. 
 
 Was twilight, when we reached to an highroad ; 
 Where, as upon our feet, we further fared ; 
 A patrol-wain, though now it starlight was. 
 Passed by us, with relief of public bread ; 
 Which, by a County Councils order made, 
 Was ; since in this way, some, in the last days, 
 Of Englands many famished fugitive families, 
 Had been found dead. We, having loaves obtained ; 
 And the air being warm, nor better shelter by us ; 
 Concluded, for our best, this night, to lodge. 
 Forth from the dusty way ; where flows a brook. 
 Out of wood-side : and kindled in that place, 
 A gypsy watchfire, there to toast our crusts. 
 
 Wayfellows, who sate with me about our hearth ; 
 A Schoolmaster were, and a Trade Traveller ; 
 Whose circuit mongst corn-chandlers in these parts : 
 One who untrained to arms had volunteered, 
 For Commissariat Service, in the war. 
 
 The Traveller said ; would no Commercial House, 
 Take more Bank-notes, in settlement of accompts : 
 Even Bank of England paper, to the half. 
 Was fallen already: and must there soon him-thought, 
 Some general moratorium be proclaimed. 
 
go THE CLOUDS 
 
 No money passes more, from hand to hand. 
 
 In penury all alike must wade : mongst poor 
 
 Men ; some late counted rich, today were named. 
 SCHOOLM. What then ? 
 Traveller. Tell thrice the fingers of one hand ! 
 
 Common opinion, mongst corn-factors is ; 
 
 So many more be Britains dying days : 
 
 And then...! 
 SCHOOLM. Eigh, then ! What then ? 
 Trav. I say and then, 
 
 Can only God us shield from famishment ! 
 SCHOOLM. Cannot our merchant-shipping bring in corn ? 
 Trav. English shipmasters, what day war broke on us ; 
 
 Transferred their fleets, to other Nations' flags : 
 
 A Policy they had long ago prepared, 
 
 In their rich counting houses. Can no more 
 
 That carrying Trade, which has forsaken England, 
 
 Recalled be to Her shores. 
 Carp. What of the Powers 
 
 Which had some politic understanding with us? 
 Trav. We hear of armies, on their frontiers massed : 
 
 Fleets hem their fleets. They are impotent, contained 
 thus; 
 
 To furnish any aid, that might avail us. 
 
 (A Wayfaring Stranger 
 
 Stranger. Good even, fellow-countrymen ; I am like 
 A moth here wandered to your cheerful hearth. 
 Long is the road, for a wayfaring man ! 
 I saw its gleam, lighting wood-side, and then 
 These dancing flames ; and hoped for company. 
 
 SCHOOLM. The more the merrier; sit down here with us. 
 We 've bread : and you have done, I '11 part mine with 
 you. {He sits down with them 
 
 What news are in the North } Whence come you ? 
 
 Stranger. I passed 
 
CARPENTER NIGHING HOME 91 
 
 By Merry Sherwood ; but merry now no more. 
 
 Marine telegraphy had, the Stranger told us, 
 Been his vocation, till ere yesterday ; when 
 Last Ocean-bridging cables had been cut : 
 And only wireless messages now can pass, 
 Conveying tidings, from the World without. 
 But they be few, and even do those our enemies. 
 Irradiating counter- waves, corrupt. 
 
 We, of the rumour asked, of those Help-fleets, 
 Believed to be in voyage, from beyond seas. 
 Naught he, of Britain's Daughter States, could tell us. 
 
 The Schoolmaster said, a verse of Sister Gertrudes, 
 Me comes to mind ; I heard in the Cave-Camp. 
 Is to every Briton, each of the Five Britains 
 Homeland alike ; whet Iter were he one born, 
 In Home- Isle Britain, or a Daughter- State. 
 
 Thoughts like to these, me yesterday possessed ; 
 When, in my path, a river pool I passed. 
 Large was that water, which hemmed rushy brinks. 
 A mother-swan there swam ; and fleeted round her, 
 Four stately cygnets, in attendance meet. 
 She them would, with Her life, defend, against 
 The offense of man or hound : nor would each other, 
 Nor Her, her noble cygnets then forsake. 
 Carp. Of Sister Gertrude, hear another verse. 
 
 What though all seek their own, {as in so dark 
 Uncivil World,) yet next, in the true hearts. 
 Of all Her children, is their Mother Britain ; 
 Great Hive, iv hence their young prosperous swarms soared 
 forth. 
 
 Weary at length ; pluckt heath, we shook down beds. 
 Whereon, around the embers of our hearth. 
 To sleep. Then each to other said Goodnight! 
 And God help England! answered every voice. 
 
 And Heavens Tent, illimitable height 
 
92 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Of stars, in endless ranks, that passeth thought ; 
 Eternity in mans sight ! seemed stretched above us. 
 And smelled the breath of Night, of moss and woods. 
 
 Come dawn, and bathed us in that fleeting brook ; 
 We fared on eating bread, to break our fast : 
 Musing, in our sad thoughts, what should befall us. 
 
 A buskin'd shepherd, wont all days to walk, 
 On moors, before his many-footed flock ; 
 With crook in hand and budget on his back, 
 His sheep-cur following ; where, at a cross-ways, 
 We paused to read the finger-post, came to us. 
 
 Had yester-eve that poor herdsman lost his flock. 
 The enemies making road ; on an hill-side, 
 Him found, and at a run, drove off his stock : 
 And him, lamenting, had they left there bound. 
 
 One of them gave him ; out of his own purse, 
 A piece of gold, in pity of his harms : 
 Was foreign gold. The poor man asked of us, 
 In his uplandish wise ; what worth it was ? 
 Sighing, he said, He knew none other trade. 
 Of this Worlds work : at a fields stile, he left us. 
 
 Driving his cart, a plain man went then by us. 
 Who seeing one faring faintly, along the highway; 
 Enquired humanely, and friendly took me up ; 
 To ride what miles, with him, he should farther forth. 
 
 A Grazier, he had Walesward sent his stock ; 
 Obedient to new Government Ordinance, 
 In proclaimed districts: namely. All great horned-beasts 
 To be reserved, for military victual: 
 And Treasury notes had he received for his. 
 
 By milestones two or three, we drove ; and passed, 
 Where sitting some sick man was in the Sun, 
 At the wayside ; who feebly moaned to us ! 
 Drew rein the grazier ; well he knew his face ; 
 And lighted. Neighbour, the infirm man said, 
 
CARPENTER NIGHING HOME 93 
 
 War-dread hath slain me. Let them know at home ; 
 
 That 's not far-off, where is that I lie dead. 
 
 Methinks, I 've but few moments more to live. 
 
 (This heart,. . .oh !) Take my market-book, from my pocket; 
 
 And help me... (ah !) make my Will : you write in that. 
 
 We 've bought and sold together ; and you I trust, 
 
 Right as I would the Parson of our church. 
 Grazier. Shall all be done, as you devise : now say. 
 The Dying. This body unto the ground, my soul to God. 
 
 The land give I, and dwelling-house, to my wife: 
 
 And that be parted, after Bridgets day, 
 
 Twixt our two sons. I Almighty God do pray; 
 
 Have mercy on this here Land, where we was bred: 
 
 And that Her soil continually may 
 
 Yield the increase ;...Amen ! I, John Appleton, yeoman. 
 Grazier. I Ve writ all after you : here John, set your cross. 
 
 I '11 guide your hand ; so we will witness it. {He does so 
 
 Witness ; George Dyson. Witness ; William Car- 
 penter. 
 The Dying. You signed it? 
 Dyson. We have both. 
 The Dying. And so with God ! {Dies 
 
 Dyson, uplifted reverently, in his cart ; 
 The dead : no strength had I at all, to aid. 
 We walked beside, till come to Appletons house. 
 Nor, when he it lowered, in old Appletons sons' 
 Strong arms, was cold the corse. The testament 
 Saw I delivered in his widows hands. 
 
 She, in her womans sorrow, had yet mind ; 
 That we two wayfarers should not fasting wend. 
 The board, ere she went forth to weep, she spread, 
 With her two trembling hands. When somewhat had 
 We eaten then, we passed forth ; till parted us, 
 An upland road, which led to Dysons place. 
 
 Under an hedgerows shelter, whilst I sate ; 
 
94 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Fared by me a company of artizans ; some bearing 
 Baskets, some frails, some tool-bags on their necks. 
 Journeying were those, from town to town, to find : 
 If haply would men recompense them, with victual, 
 I rose, and followed with them, a slow pace : 
 So fell with one, a smith, in some discourse. 
 
 Soon after, at new turning of the road ; 
 We found one set, to mend his motor-car. 
 Such magistrates only now have leave to keep, 
 And surgeons; all the rest be taken up, 
 In the King's name, for military service. 
 
 The craftsman, looked it over, spied the fault ; 
 And, raught a stone for hammer in his fist ; 
 He deftly it gan to handle and to smite. 
 
 The Parish Surgeon, whose the car was, asked 
 Me of burned Easthampton, where he had a friend. 
 I spoke of poor John Appleton. Many, he said. 
 Were sick of such new malady and strange disease. 
 Cause was mens breathless dread, midst wars distress! 
 (To be disherited, put out from their own ! 
 Despoiled, expropriated, dispossessed ; 
 To wander they, ind their little ones, forth unfed !) 
 
 Symptoms were commonly, intermitting pulse ; 
 Quickened great heart-leaps, with constraint of chest. 
 Whence some have, {kardiorhexis), fallen down dead. 
 
 The smith, a man was of not common parts ; 
 But of a many-eyed instincted wit ; 
 Conceiving, finding new not trodden paths : 
 Still ruminating many eyas thoughts ; 
 From hour to hour : (witness, his listening looks !) 
 That, like his handicrafts fugitive fiery sparks. 
 Seemed light from heaven, in his deviseful mind. 
 He would have hammered out this World of new ; 
 If such had been his chance. Today hath England 
 Invader enemies ? He too had his bold schemes. 
 For their destruction and last overthrow. 
 
CARPENTER NIGHING HOME 95 
 
 With them a crook-backed pedlar went : one wont 
 To bear this World about an heavy pack, 
 Of needles, laces, pins. By estimation ; 
 Each year he walked, by plain, through vale, o'er hill : 
 Two thousand weary mile. And as, by use, 
 Culter or husbands spade is burnished bright. 
 Such his wit was. With many a thousand wives, 
 He paltered trifles, in his yearly round : 
 And had he learned, once looking on a face ; 
 The intent of every low-pitched soul to read : 
 And yet his custom was not to deceive. 
 
 England he counted lost ; where dying was 
 His hucksters craft of noble chapmanhood. 
 Ended this war, (which Britain must leave bare :) 
 He to his son would, in America ; 
 And no more his own Country see again. 
 
 A shoemaker one amongst them was ; whose name 
 Was Ralf. Him thought, had England never been 
 So full of extreme mischiefs, woeful want. 
 
 He, (he told us,) hired three acres of Church glebe : 
 Two for his pony, and a third he digged ; 
 Labouring with spade, in all his leisure hours ; 
 And sowed with corn. Was of his last years grain, 
 That he and his had wherewith yet to live. 
 
 Each night, his village council sate, he said : 
 For words, they groaned and stared on the cold ground. 
 Might Englishman, like himself, untrained, unarmed ; 
 And had they heart, now hardly help the Land. 
 
 When Peace, at length, our Conquerors should have 
 granted ; 
 To Canada would they, all that could, remove : 
 And found some township there, of the self name. 
 Carpenter. When shall be ended this invading war ; 
 With loss of seaborne trade, all England wasted ; 
 Industrial ruin, towns ransomed, homesteads burned ; 
 Must Britain shrink! What then shall Her befall? 
 
96 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Shoem. Some general migration of Her folk ! 
 
 Other Voices. We v/ot not, how might that be brought 
 
 about. 
 Carp. Britain contains, what...? 
 Voices. Five and forty millions.? 
 Carp. Is that not more, by twenty million mouths, 
 
 Than Britains Soil were able to sustain. 
 Voices. And then.? 
 Other Voices. What then? 
 Carp. The rest were hard to think ! 
 
CARPENTERS COME HOME 
 
 Had those beyond me passed : once more I rested 
 A rural constable, that went by me, asked ; 
 If I ailed aught. Training these lustless limbs, 
 I held on with him, by another mile-stone. 
 
 We passed men loitering, in a village street : 
 Some, on their fathers tomb-stones, saw I, sit ; 
 With perplext lumpish looks, in the churchyard. 
 
 (After two days, was strife, in that churchyard, 
 Stern battle-strife, 1 have since heard. Those tomb- 
 Stones were for shields, to sharpshooters then, of ours. 
 On the old, fell new dead ; slain, defending Britain !) 
 
 Much sickness was, the Constable told, for want. 
 Many, in this Country-side, had lost their minds. 
 A family lacking bread, for dread of worse ; 
 Had drowned themselves, last night, in the cold brook. 
 And had he all day gone, to call a Quest. 
 Soldier of the Reserve, he daily looked. 
 To be recalled to military service. 
 
 Towards evening was, when at a bridge, I stayed, 
 Which bestrode a fresh stream. As there I rested, 
 With jaded sense and rackt with weariness; 
 Watching the swimming trouts; a Parson passed 
 By, of yonder spire-deckt village. Smooth and wily, 
 He asked, how fared I ? and I were hungry and weary ; 
 Come ! and he would me the soup-kitchen show. 
 
 I rose and trudged on with him. By and by, 
 A jewelled digit pointed it to me ! 
 
 D. c. 7 
 
98 THE CLOUDS 
 
 And the church porch ; wherein had I his leave, 
 Besides, to lodge : Farewell, goodnight, Godspeed ! 
 
 When the first martins flitted from church eaves ; 
 Training these pithless knees, I parted forth. 
 Few furlongs' way beyond, I faring by, 
 The Police Station Cottage saw, at the wayside. 
 Was there the Constable standing in his door ; 
 Now khaki-clad ! Had summoned him to the war, 
 A messenger, in the night-time ; and he was ready. 
 
 He called me in, and set before me bread ; 
 And bade me rest. He showed me also, where 
 The Valley railway ran, under next field. 
 His troop-train would be due, within this hour. 
 A seat would he then ask, for me, of the officer. 
 
 A train it was of open trucks : with grounded 
 Rifles and fixt bayonets, soldiers sate. 
 On benches rough, of joiners hasty work. 
 Continually searched wide skies, clear-sighted scouts. 
 Around; and open field, to every part. 
 Officers watched, standing on our armoured engine ; 
 Intent, with telescopes, the rail-pair in front. 
 All bridges were examined, ere we passed. 
 
 Twice, saw we humming air-flyers, moth-like pass. 
 On height ; but were those foes or friends we saw not i 
 They showed no colours. We, at two hours' end, 
 Had reached our destination, a large plain. 
 
 Reservists lighted, were formed up to march ; 
 A body indeed of soldiers, of the best. 
 That any Country hath ; but they are few ! 
 
 I parted on the morrow, with the lark. 
 Thick dust lay underfoot, on the long road. 
 Towards afternoon, wide skies were overcast : 
 It lightened then and loud thundered ! Summer rain 
 Beat fast, on the wayside and hedge-row leaves. 
 
 Hasted who nigh, to covert of dim grove. 
 
CARPENTERS COME HOME 99 
 
 Bordering that road. With hard-set swunken looks, 
 (Carters were those returning from the front, 
 Today, with empty commissariat wains ;) 
 They carped of villages burned and occupied towns. 
 
 One lighted from his mare, neath our boughs' eaves; 
 A factor for the gentry, in those parts, 
 Was he. (Thick Summer shower, like crystal ropes, 
 From heaven descended, writhing, to Earths ground : 
 And gave wide mould up a fresh smell around.) 
 
 He said, that shut were the most Country houses ; 
 (Wherefore the more should their poor neighbours want') 
 Where the Eastlanders occupy any manor-house ; 
 They put therein, to the most abject uses. 
 What thing they find, without regard of aught. 
 
 He had known them, mongst the armour and stags' 
 heads ; 
 To stall their horses, in historic halls. 
 He had known them, priceless heirlooms to break up; 
 To kindle fires, under their cooking pots. 
 He had known, where Eastlander officers' evening 
 
 pastime ; 
 Was, with revolvers, to shoot out the eyes, 
 Of a great Northern lords ancestral pictures ! 
 From lesser homes, wrenched doors and window frames, 
 
 forced ; 
 Were borne away in carts, to their camp-fires. 
 
 May, in occupied districts, Country-folk now no more 
 Go anywhither, on the common ways ; 
 Where rumble heavy uncouth munition trains, 
 Of the Eastlanders' carts, without their foreign pass: 
 In those crabbed Gothic letters, which offend 
 The civil eye. Become is occupied England, 
 Outlandish Country ! wherein foreign fashions 
 Prevail henceforth, with iron severity. 
 
 Beyond the roads ; (where stink wars hasty graves, 
 
 7—2 
 
lOO THE CLOUDS 
 
 From hedgerows green and waybreadths dusty grass !) 
 The Invaders' heavy artillery wheels ; (that marred, 
 Had hooves and multitude of war-feet, before ;) 
 Have rammed, to stony barrenness, the field-clod. 
 
 Patrols be everywhere seen, of foreign soldiers, 
 Even in by-paths. Be-bellows, who them leads ; 
 (Some corporal, with his Continental Insolence ;) 
 Him, whom they meet ; Halt, Englander ! SJww thy 
 pass ! 
 
 'T is to thy stomach contrary; but with such, 
 To strive, to stand in terms, were to waste breath : 
 To anger them, to invite a man's own death. 
 Wood at a word, those licensed are to shoot ! 
 
 Ceased had the storm ; shone forth again the Sun, 
 On fields refreshed: and that celestial thing. 
 Like bridal chapelet of the Earth and Heaven ; 
 Wherein the hew of every flower ; is set ; 
 Whereon, whilst, passing sheen ! suspended yet, 
 We love to look ; appeared out of the East. 
 Then, on our several ways, we parted forth. 
 
 Nigh now my home, my heart was in mine house. 
 Should such I find it, as was Trumans house 
 And hamlet, wasted, burned } O dismal thought ! 
 Might I but see my widowed mother safe ; 
 (As feeble hind fleeth, from her hunters forth ;) 
 I would, that she escaped to some sure place. 
 
 All yonder coast, which I from hence surview, 
 I know from childhood : from that cliffs brow there ; 
 Might I descry the vane of our church spire. 
 Sun-glittering ! 
 
 In my weariness, I long hour ; 
 Fulfilled with joy of heart, have rested here ; 
 Since when, in yonder field, his sweaty team, 
 The ploughman loosed, lifted the shining share, 
 
CARPENTERS COME HOME loi 
 
 From long cleft clod ; and on his wheelers chine, 
 Rode sidewise whistling to his horses stalls. 
 
 From late gold-purpled border of the World, 
 Was evening fading now, when I descended ; 
 Where led a bridle path and driftway green, 
 To Farley meadows and our brooks footbridge. 
 
 Had twilight shadows those dank leas o'erspread ; 
 And the ousel his last witless roosting notes, 
 Had shrilled from thicket leaves, when to the bridge- 
 Head I arrived. Yet little further forth ; 
 Methought, ascending in the meadows path ; 
 With throbbing heart, which echoed in mine ears ; 
 I saw, in the hill-side, where stands our house ; 
 Ah, a gleam!.,, Her lamp outshining in night murk? 
 As might that be, to light her one child home ! 
 
 Leapt under me my knees, at this new thought ; 
 As in them were infused new vital force ; 
 And wiped away all former weariness. 
 
 But little rests now, to my mothers gate ! 
 O, joy of meeting ; only few more steps ! 
 The voice ; then kisses of her lips, the breath ; 
 The dear embrace, of her which brought me forth ! 
 
 Seems each tree, each rock, a friend. In this starlight, 
 I tread now road, that leads next past our house. 
 Dark is my path, twixt holly hedges. Here 
 Should be our elder tree. It is ! (I it know, 
 By the heavy smell.) This then smooth laurel bough, 
 I feel : the ruffling hazel-leaves, that hang over 
 Our gate ; hear now. Thank God ! my journey is ended. 
 
 Entering our avenue: ...Hands, ha!,.. on me laid! 
 Hands ! heavy hands ! Not robbers, by highways : 
 For these, with thick voice of Eastlander throat. 
 Challenge me!. ..and draw perforce on, through the 
 
 gloom ! 
 On towards our porch, (with honey-suckle dight, 
 
I02 THE CLOUDS 
 
 And jasmine sweet, and myrtle-wreathed the posts.) 
 
 What unknown dread, what bitter fear this is. 
 Which mine heart slays ! What, and if I presently miss 
 My mother here?... What hath befallen her? 
 Strange medleyed sounds of revelry from our house ; 
 I gusts hear, of loud laughter, glasses' clink ! 
 
 Eastlander cavalry Company, in advance 
 Today ridden of their Regiments ; having made 
 Reconnaissance, as far as Farley village ; 
 Had since remained, to overnight in the place. 
 Unkempt, war-stained, carousing now they sate: 
 And having in our cottage supped their fills ; 
 To drink our cellar dry, was their intent. 
 
 I led before their major, tall stern soldier. 
 Red-haired, red-faced ; one who some English couth : 
 He questioned, with loud military voice ; 
 Came I unarmed? Whether, like spy, I were 
 Crept in at door? Or how else were I found? 
 
 This cottage is, I said, my mothers house ; 
 Whither now I arrive, after long voyage. 
 
 Was that, he hiccupped, likely to be sooth. 
 Consider this young man, led in before us ! 
 In him, I mark no military strut ; 
 No sly eye. Ha ! (let me remember what 
 I mean :) I mean, my Sirs, mien sooner hath 
 This, of.,., a London cockney! I would say. 
 He 's lean, mark well ! he hath a mother too. 
 And so have I : for her sake, I '11 be kind. 
 
 He gave commandment then, mine eyes to bind : 
 And see, if did I know indeed this house. 
 And one, his lieutenant, which some English spoke, 
 From room to room, should follow with me forth ; 
 From floor to rafter ! 
 
 This ordeal well ended ; 
 We, to their board, returned. Heard the report ; 
 
CARPENTERS COME HOME 103 
 
 He poured me out cider, in his drunkenness : 
 Saying, He was not one to be unkind ; 
 To judge me straight, to be led out and shot, 
 As had he a power to do. I was his host ; 
 Made friends in wine, with glorious glasses' chink ; 
 Bone Deus ! but must I sup with them tonight. 
 And he commanded, Set before me meat. 
 
 Somewhat he could excuse, and I had guilt, 
 For his own mothers sake : only I must 
 Surrender, to be ripped up, my rent cloak ; 
 And for despatches, searched in every seam. 
 And yet fear naught : but I must sleep, this night, 
 As under ward ; within their sentrys sight. 
 Come morning, would he write me out a Pass. 
 
 From whence had I far-journeyed } he enquired, 
 I answered. From Easthampton. He had heard, 
 Him thought, named such a place; and that was burned. 
 
 My Major, you remember its bombarding, 
 (Another quoth,) hath served for precedent, 
 In this campaign. 
 
 Was no man in the Cottage, 
 When they arrived, he told me. And I would hear 
 Some tidings of my mother, he would send 
 For two day-labourers, whom he had impressed, 
 To help them in the stable : and I might 
 Examine these, before him ; which I did. 
 
 The morrows day was ruddy in the East ; 
 When I, awaked from sleep of extreme weariness, 
 Among them. Risen were the foreign soldiers, 
 Already ; and they now buckled on their swords ; 
 And bread was served and coffee to them round. 
 
 I from that majors hand, received my pass, 
 Safe-conduct called ; wherein I found set forth, 
 My name, description, age : and therewith might 
 
I04 THE CLOUDS 
 
 I journey, in districts occupied by their arms. 
 
 When then there shortly arrived their clattering troop: 
 (They had billeted been in Farley ;) each officer took, 
 And mounted at the porch, his jaded horse. 
 So, leaving foul disorder, in our house ; 
 They rode, returning back, to their main force. 
 
 Driven, through old, disused green packway lanes, 
 By a faithful servant, in her pony carriage ; 
 My mother yesterday had escaped betimes. 
 
 Searching throughout, I in my chamber found ; 
 She had written with a pencil on the wall, 
 At my beds head : Son, nothing have I heard, 
 These three weeks from thee. The Lord shield thee, I 
 Am gone to my Welsh kindred, from these miseries. 
 
 With careful heart and faltering knees, I went, 
 To meet with friends and neighbours in the street : 
 And women saw, returning from the fields ; 
 Such as, for fear, had passed the night in woods. 
 
 Where forked our road, before the parish church ; 
 I mused to see, thus early, a funeral pass ; 
 With sad-faced following train of village folk : 
 And heard say, that the Blacksmith was borne forth ! 
 
 When came those Eastlanders yesterday trotting in, 
 With sabres' clank and pennons brave advanced : 
 Baring in his forge door, his great forearms ; 
 He looking scorn, had dared them all to fight. 
 Come on, cried he, ye foreign curs ! With any 
 Three foreigners, which made ever God Almighty ; 
 He, an only unarmed Englishman, would fight. 
 
 Reined in the Outlander troop : loud cried was. Halt ! 
 An officer spoke. The peasant had insulted 
 This kingly-imperial uniform ; which the honour 
 Had they to wear ! As Symonds grimly stood ; 
 Command given : the strange troopers' foremost rank ; 
 With carbines, from their saddles, shot him dead ! 
 
CARPENTERS COME HOME 105 
 
 For those but meanly of enemies' lives account, 
 I n war ! What though they dread extremely, as for 
 Themselves, swart death ; and not, unto their own, 
 Return from Land, which they in arms invade. 
 
 I followed, after blacksmith Symonds corse, 
 Amongst that mourning folk. Labouring all night ; 
 Had much ado, old Kemp the Carpenter ; 
 The coffin to make ready of the dead, 
 By day. All held, he must be buried straight. 
 Ere noonday, might Invader army pass ; 
 When all the Village would forsake the place ! 
 
 Parleys new vicar, absent in the field ; 
 Called to be chaplain, of a new raised Regiment ; 
 The Parish Clerk read over him the Church Service. 
 All sang an hymn, with sighs out of their hearts. 
 In grave-mould then, mongst those before us passed ; 
 We fathom-deep slain Symonds laid to rest. 
 
 The village was brought low, all stores were spent ; 
 In many a cottage-door, had entered want: 
 Young men I saw not. They, with their new regiments, 
 Were being hastily drilled, in distant Wales : 
 And I, when had I seen my mother safe. 
 Would join them there. 
 
 Since all too weary I was, 
 To longer journey on foot ; with William Pace, 
 (Is he our tenant-farmer ;) I agreed, 
 For saddle and an hobby, the old man had ; 
 And spending silver lent me from his purse ; 
 (Out of his quarters rent, due to be paid.) 
 Key of our cottage, in his hand I left. 
 
WAYFARING TOWARDS WALES 
 
 Purveyed with victual and a change of cloth ; 
 I took from home my way that afternoon. 
 In the first hour I rode, some hope I had, 
 My mother to o'ertake ; but old and weak 
 Was Favel under me, my horse : nor since 
 New law forbade, to feed corn unto beasts, 
 Had tasted grain. I fare must at footpace. 
 
 Now evening gloom ; and Favels footfall was, 
 In Farley Dales highway, the only sound ; 
 Save murmuring of the headlong brook beneath. 
 
 Dim flickering shadows scudded o'er my path. 
 Of boughs above, stirred by the night-winds breath : 
 Wherein meseemed the newly dead to walk. 
 From gloom I looked, of every great trunks root ; 
 And that from dark foot of each bordering rock ; 
 And midst of every bush, should those gaze forth ! 
 
 When last rose backward sad wayfaring Moon ; 
 I issued to hedgerows and open fields ; 
 Wan meadows, wherein sleepless great-horned beasts, 
 With snorting breaths, browsed forth dank misty grass. 
 
 Wide shone the hoary heavens' abyss of stars ; 
 That hang by harmony above our heads ; 
 Unwitting of mans breath, his ways, his works. 
 His wars and States, on dark Clot of round Earth. 
 
 From mile to mile, I through Nights lingering gloom. 
 Such nodding heaviness had ; I oft was like ; 
 To fall, by moments, from my Favels neck. 
 
WAYFARING TOWARDS WALES 107 
 
 Where slumbering village-streets, sometimes we passed : 
 I mused ; seemed kept, in these war-days, no watch ! 
 
 Last gazing round, mongst thousand glittering lamps, 
 Of heavens night : thy beacon, friendly, fair ; 
 Lo, is rising, lucid, gracious morning star ! 
 
 Now that chill afr breathes, which before the dawn. 
 Now looketh wide ray already, of coming light, 
 East brow above, of this benighted Earth. 
 
 Vast tide of Light ! new day is rising forth ; 
 And heavens o'erspreads. Now fadeth, as a dream, 
 Not well remembered, shadow of night past. 
 
 Therewith wakes shrill consent of small fowls' song, 
 In field and grove: {Zit-zit, gi-gi-gi, pp-tchi\ 
 Tch-tch, thU-ivi): cometh up the Giant Sun; 
 Lo ! a well of lightning rays, with diadem crowned ; 
 Each day new-born, in Majesty, from beneath : 
 Gladdening, on dewy earth, all that bears life. 
 And with this blithe lark, mounteth my frail spirit : 
 And her embays, in heavens new cheerful light. 
 
 Whiles yet I upward gazed, from a side road, 
 Two mounted constables reined athwart my path ! 
 With side arms and with pistols, rode they both. 
 They asked me, (powdered as I was with dust ;) 
 Came I from far, 'long this highway, tonight ? 
 And had I nowhere met with such and such ; 
 Men they watched for, gainst whom there warrants were 
 
 out ; 
 To answer, for late robberies on the road. 
 This side the hill, no upland paths, they said, 
 Were longer safe : the miseries of the times. 
 Bred evil-doers. Men desperate made, through want ; 
 Have lain in wait, for lonely passengers. 
 Would one of them accompany me, towards the town. 
 He rode on with me, as far as Stoney Cross. 
 
 A noble Prospect, from that forest height ! 
 
io8 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Of the ascending road, was there, amidst 
 
 Great Stoneyfield Chace: till hemmed fair plain, in 
 
 sight ; 
 Hoar cragged mountain-heads, of distant Wales : 
 Ruins, in solemn sleep, neath this Sunlight ; 
 Of old dead worlds, or ever Adamu was. 
 
 Entering the town, I saw were closed their schools ; 
 Shut even the ribald Inns : for, by new Act 
 Of Parliament, no more barley might be brewed. 
 All grain must be declared, and none be hid. 
 Whilst War endures ; being all to be reserved, 
 Unto the Peoples need, to be made bread. 
 
 And save the pharmacies, all their shops were shut. 
 Children looked on aghast, and seldom played. 
 One whom I asked ; beckoning in dumb-show, showed 
 Me, with his only chin ; where public victual 
 Was sold and dispensed freely. 
 
 Even thus early. 
 Much coming was and going, at the door ; 
 For loaves and broth, of housewives of the town ; 
 With baskets and their tickets of relief; 
 Seen and allowed by the town magistrates. 
 
 Some sate within on benches, which did eat ; 
 One might have for his penny, beans and broth. 
 Their talk, as I amongst them took my place, 
 Was of the dearth and bringing in of corn ; 
 And help they looked for, from beyond the seas. 
 
 In that, was cried, loud up and down the street ; 
 Ireland in tumult! Wireless London Grams! 
 In vain, was sent out to the Market Place, 
 A child with pence: already had all been sold. 
 Bread and the news, being first now in mens thoughts; 
 All wait for tidings. From what hour they wake; 
 Till when once more sleep steeps their careful spirits. 
 (The air is filled with rumour, in mens ears!) 
 
WAYFARING TOWARDS WALES 109 
 
 Here had been formed, a citizens police-service ; 
 Of tradesmen chiefly and firemen of the town : 
 Whereby the borough and their County constables, 
 Released from duty, and drafted in the army ; 
 Might serve in arms ; (and many are time-past soldiers.) 
 And that new voluntary force enrolled ; 
 Today have charge of order in their town. 
 I saw some in the streets, wearing a badge. 
 
 Another told me of the LEAGUE of PATRIOTS : 
 Now mostly in the West Parts ; where they, for tents, 
 Have bowers of the green boughs : and are they men 
 Of all sorts and conditions ; in whose breasts 
 A patriot zeal burns and new NATIONAL Spirit ; 
 Gainst homely and foreign enemies ; to uphold 
 The State. They, with magnanimous hardihood, 
 Take on them, being men of every age, 
 Wars travaillous daily adventurous enterprises. 
 And on their caps, have broidered womens hands, 
 Patria. Some of them, which were worthy esteemed, 
 Have been adopted in the Sacred Band : 
 With whom they, entering vehement into fight ; 
 Have many times approved their warlike worth ! 
 
 War-bread, I marked, was with them, very small ; 
 Mingled with malt, potato and bean-flour. 
 Bran, barley and oaten grist, to eke their meal. 
 
 Two old stained News-Sheets lay there on the board ; 
 (Might only censored News-Sheets now be sold :) 
 Wherein, (with strangling in the throat!) I read; 
 The frail resistance of our tiroes arms : 
 The daily massacre, without pity or ruth. 
 On the over-leaf stood, LANCASHIRE Hard Pressed, 
 Great Citadel of our merchant industries. 
 Elsewhere, A Strange Emotion chanced in Ireland! 
 
 There men and women, as them seemed, beholding 
 Heavens wrath arrive ; great Last Day of the World : 
 
) THE CLOUDS 
 
 And fearful flames, of burning fiery gulf, 
 Approach ; in an agony, smiting on their breasts ; 
 Fell down, behowling in the Public Place, 
 Their manifold sins, in time past, unto death. 
 
 Ran holy-water clerks, among them, groaning ; 
 Ah, miserere met; heu, heu, Domine ! 
 They sprinkled, confessed, houseled, as they went ; 
 A people, that grovelling, moaning, lay entranced. 
 Convulsed. Cried the archpriest, standing in their midst ; 
 Absolvo onines vos, from wicked works. 
 (Such chanced had in a town, called Ballycath !) 
 
 The cause unfolding, of that brainsick stir ; 
 The News-Sheet showed, how borne an aeroplane corps, 
 Called the Airwolves, was in the Enemys fleet. 
 Surging from decks, those, in late twilight hour ; 
 Had, swifter than fowls flight, borne Westward forth ; 
 To fly upland, from Erinns misty coast. 
 
 When nighing they were seen, in heavens dim steep ; 
 (And some, with fearful detonations, seemed 
 Rain fire,) men deemed them Gods destroying angels! 
 
 The loyal Irish, KING AND COUNTRY BOYS ; 
 That night had set their cycle-scouts wide out ; 
 To watch around the camp. The British marksmen, 
 They warned by flash ; who, (whirling their search 
 
 lights, 
 Lighting heavens arc !) with ready aerial guns, 
 Opening on the Airwolves ; ere attain those might 
 The new-pitched camp; grenades mongst them ex- 
 ploding; 
 Winged the aeroplanes. Toppled the most machines, 
 As fowl struck down by shot ; (horrific death ! 
 Of enemies, that them rode,) to Mother Earth. 
 
 I, in this lassitude, hating all that is 
 To come and past : a World, wherein defraud us, 
 Both men and gods, myself abhorring most ; 
 
WAYFARING TOWARDS WALES iir 
 
 Cast those smirched News-Sheets from me, issued forth ; 
 To seek some provender, for my jaded horse ; 
 Were it by the green lanes. To buy for money, 
 I sought, but might not find, a bottle of hay. 
 
 Midst the High Street, nailed on a church-door porch ; 
 Where the town idiot stood to fleer and mock ; 
 Drivelling, with his rent hose upon his neck ; 
 ( Ve maze ; he cried, with wildered wistful looks : 
 The Peoples multitude become fugitive droves. 
 Of benumbed %vr etches, hungered and acold, 
 London is burning. Look yonder !) I read thus : 
 
 Are hereby warned intending passengers. 
 Out of the town, of dangers of tJie roads ; 
 Wherein have been committed daring felonies. 
 Are counselled, ivho would journey, to enquire, 
 At the Shire-hall ; that companies might be there 
 Formed, of wayfarers, to go forth together. 
 By order of the Borough Magistrates. 
 
 Favel browsed forth : I, sitting on a stile ; 
 For languor and weariness, slumbered in the Sun. 
 Was mid, when I looked up, of afternoon ! 
 I saw approaching such a fellowship : 
 Were seven good men, which held the Western road. 
 
 Were tradesfolk some; other were artizans. 
 One was, who drove with them, in his netted cart, 
 A farmer, that had brought a slaughter calf 
 In ; for the sick in hospital. With Goodday, 
 I joined me to their Company, faring by. 
 
 Our way lay through a Country-side, where pastured 
 Much cattle ere ; but now it desolate was ; 
 Wrought no man in those fields. With charlock bloom, 
 Part golden, partly silver-white they were ; 
 That lay at mercy of Invader armies. 
 
 We a village passed : and stood a parsonage house 
 There, ivy-embowered, beside the dusty high way. 
 
 A young navy officer waited by the door. 
 
THE CLOUDS 
 
 One manly erect ; and seemed he, furbished bright, 
 As Kings sword, his prerogative was to wear. 
 He joined him now, with cheerful countenance, to us. 
 Upbounden in a sling, was his left arm. 
 
 As we fared forth, my Favel soon fell lame : 
 Which seeing, the worthy farmer, (when I lighted ;) 
 Tied the poor jade, to tail of his own cart. 
 An hurdle, (cries one mocking,) seems thine horse ! 
 
 That lieutenant, his Destroyer lately lost : 
 Not without honour. Steaming twenty knots ; 
 All suddenly, as they opened Stourwell lights, 
 They struck some submerged mine ; laid out 't is 
 
 thought, 
 Ere war declared, by disguised enemy war-ships. 
 
 No time to lower boat ; so wide the rent, 
 In her thin shell, before the Willock sank. 
 Went down all hands in her, not of the watch. 
 On deck : who, night-time, slumbered below, perished. 
 Lieutenant Commander ; had he, as she foundered. 
 Been hurled, (her steam exploding,) from his bridge. 
 
 He swimming strongly, upheld somewhile a seaman ; 
 Whom first he drenching found, in the dim waves ; 
 Like to a fly, with a fly in his mouth. Few of them 
 Have learned, in these cold waters of the North, 
 To swim. Her sister craft, the Grebe, her lifeboat 
 Lowered, in haste ; her searchlight found him straight. 
 
 That seaman, with a boathook, was drawn in : 
 But he refused all succour, as he swam ; 
 Till taken up had been every drowning man. 
 O'errunning him the boats stem, his shoulder brake. 
 By misadventure, as she came again. 
 
CARPENTERS LAST JOURNEY 
 
 And frankly, as seamen wont, he answered us ; 
 Of all that came into our hearts, to ask ; 
 Concerning the beginning of the war : 
 As viewed it officers of the kings sea-service. 
 
 Was war not yet declared, when in night mist ; 
 Anchored, in open road ; no picket boats 
 Patrolling round the mighty battle fleet, 
 Nor their nets out : seven slumbering capital ships, 
 All suddenly, (and well-nigh thousand souls in each !) 
 By submarines, were torpedoed in the dark. 
 
 Bulkhead doors shut, but making water fast. 
 Drowning the pumps ; might hardly, (had fires been 
 
 banked,) 
 An head be raised, of steam ; those huge iron hulls 
 To drive, (their cables slipped,) on, towards the land ! 
 
 Two in deep water foundered, three were beached. 
 The next in line, under whose stern exploded, 
 A second gun-cotton charge, could not be steered : 
 But winding, as she steamed, upon herself ; 
 Fell, drifted by flood-tide, on shelf of rocks ; 
 Heeled over ; and at ebb, there broke her back. 
 The seventh ship, leaking badly, with a list ; 
 Limped hardly, under her own steam, to port. 
 A Tradesman. Ah a horrible mischief! Quickly, and for 
 Gods sake, 
 Tell who were saved ; I think this heart shall burst else. 
 Lieut. I tell you, in that extremity, all vied in valour, 
 To honour of their British discipline. 
 
114 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Down by the head, two Dreadnoughts fell each other 
 Aboard ; that, without steering-way, turned to shore. 
 
 From all the fleet, being hastily lowered boats ; 
 Were ordered down in them, men who could not swim : 
 But hastily rowed, mongst cross-wise glittering search 
 
 lights ; 
 Some fouled oars ; overloaded, some o'erset. 
 
 The rest of the ships' Companies stood, lined up ; 
 The water gaining fast on their great pumps. 
 On deck, to wait the end. Life-belts were served out, 
 Guns, from the ships' light armaments, the while firing; 
 Were trained to seaward, on the dusk night waves ; 
 Hope had, to concuss the enemies submarines. 
 
 Aboard the Hermes, (where my shipmate was. 
 Whence had I this ;) ceasing the huge machines 
 Their mighty throbs, the electric lamps went out : 
 Men called were from below up, in all haste. 
 
 When the iron immense hull lurched, about to sink: 
 All hands, with last loud shout, saluted ENGLAND! 
 
 Being passed then word. To save them, they who could; 
 
 Men leapt, without disorder, overboard ; 
 
 Down in the cold night waves ! with little hope 
 
 Of succour ; or to swimming fetch the land. 
 
 Chief officers, left still standing on the bridge ; 
 
 (Heirs of their fathers' worth,) sunk with their ships. 
 
 Hundreds, at daybreak, were of corses seen ; 
 Seamen and officers, floating in to strand ! 
 
 Eastlander submarine squadron, (craft large-built, 
 To travel twenty hours, under sea-waves' face. 
 And swiftly above ;) sped from their havens, at twilight ; 
 Fetched Englands coasts; the same night, had done this! 
 
 By loss of those seven Capital British ships ; 
 The Trident, that was centuries in our fist ; 
 Wherewith we ruled the stormy seas, passed from us ! 
 
CARPENTERS LAST JOURNEY 115 
 
 At the same time, six other sea-castle ships, 
 Were, (factious folly of Britains government ; 
 That follow insensate policy of sentiment ; 
 And will not read the iron REALITIES !) 
 For long deferred repairs, laid up in docks. 
 
 'T is known, must every year, for certain weeks : 
 A ship be docked ; eight or say even ten weeks : 
 But that with due regard to times and service; 
 Not all at once. Labouring, now day and night, 
 Might hardly, in thirty days, be those made ready ! 
 
 Meanwhile their ports, being likely to be blocked, 
 A fleet is fitted out of obsolete warships; 
 Wherein none willingly would embark their lives. 
 
 By cable and wireless, being recalled our fleet. 
 Dispersed : the Enemy, though the Powers protested ; 
 Have, to forestall the junction of our ships ; 
 Wide sown, with drifting mines, the Channel Mouth. 
 
 Airships by night, descending on Rosyth, 
 Great Northern arsenal, our new naval base ; 
 (Over against a now unfriendly Coast,) 
 Have, irreparable disaster, it, with cast- 
 Down bombs, part ruined, razed ; and ships of war 
 Destroyed therein ; which were laid up in dock. 
 A Tradesman. And cannot we repay them, in like sort... ? 
 Another. What tidings of our scattered fleet > 
 Lieut. Word is; 
 
 That rounded the Orkneys, from the Atlantic bord ; 
 The rest of our Home fleet, brought the Enemys fleet 
 To action, more in number, tonnage, force 
 And newness of their ships ; and their sides fenced. 
 With harder tempered plates : the enemies' guns 
 Likewise, of equal calibres, harder shoot. 
 
 Off" a new Bloody Foreland, raged the fight, 
 With heavy battle-armament of long range : 
 But was that brief, a distant cannonade. 
 
 Already, exchanged few shots, great sea-castle ships 
 
ii6 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Reeled : fire-control and huge iron fighting masts, 
 On one and other part, went by the bord. 
 Ships citadels so were hammered ; that within them, 
 'T is said, men fell and died, without a wound ! 
 
 When shot-rent smoke-stacks sagged, on a ships board ; 
 Offense, resistance, were alike confounded. 
 Crews could not see to shoot ; might men not fetch, 
 Poisoned with sulphurous fume, their vital breaths. 
 The battle paused : in that each fleet drew off 
 
 'T is said, some great ships, that were leaking fast, 
 With ravaged entrails and crackt ribs, sith foundered ; 
 With centuries of drowned men, within their boards. 
 To the seas ground, those sunk ; like iron tombs ! 
 Slimy with gore, the rest ; vast iron decks 
 A running pash of mangled human flesh : 
 Were soon hull-down under the horizont. 
 
 Each steered for their own coast : in ready docks. 
 Those to refit : but we, our Politicians' 
 Abysmal folly, have no repairing docks ; 
 Sufficient to receive our wounded dreadnoughts. 
 
 Carpenter. Who is there, that not stalls a costly steed...! 
 
 Lieut. At sea, we must make good our fleets defects, 
 Attempt the impossible ; and in doing that ; 
 'T is likely our scattered ships, by hostile squadrons, 
 Shall, met with, one by one, be taken or sunk ! 
 
 A Tradesman. The Controversy of the Seas ! Those 
 fought, as fought 
 The United Provinces, in old days, with us. 
 
 Carpenter. For brief World Empire, Nations felly fight, 
 Persia with Hellas ; City of Romulus 
 With Carthage. Last those Dutch Estates with us. 
 
 Tradesman. Britain anew must fight ; and that, for life ! 
 
 Lieut. Those, Britain, on the high seas, would supplant : 
 And have sent out swift cruisers, to waylay 
 Home-coming shipping, and our corn cut off: 
 And with the Overseas' Pan-Britannic fleet, 
 
CARPENTERS LAST JOURNEY 117 
 
 That now approach, detached some heavy ships ; 
 
 They purpose them, with hardy hope, to fight. 
 An Artizan. Were England without army, without fleet ; 
 
 Might money is spent now in waste, be bestowed on us. 
 
 I gives my vote to them as promises us this. 
 Another Workman. Though was we drove to school ; 
 the likes of us, 
 
 But half-learned, reads them journals of low course ; 
 
 That, for the workmans penny, flatters us. 
 
 Granted there 's somewhat wrong, in Englands State ; 
 
 'T is not all Gods truth neither, those there tell us ! 
 
 We reads us desperate, when we 's out o' work. 
 
 I holds, does I, with England. 
 An Artificer. Soldier-sons 
 
 Have I in India ; and they are doing well. 
 
 A third made fortune in South Africa, (as writes 
 
 My son to me ;) in trade ; five thousand pound ! 
 
 And any man may thrive, that 's worth his wage ; 
 
 If not at home, in Englands Colonies. 
 
 We cannot all be heads, (a tradesman said ;) 
 
 There 's hands and feet. As must a tree be roots, 
 
 Boughs, stem and leaves ; to live by, and bear fruit : 
 
 Right so, every Community must have ; 
 
 (^Were it an anthill, hive or human STATE;) 
 
 Its several integral necessary parts ; 
 
 Serving together to the common good. 
 Another Tradesman. England breeds many venimous 
 seething brains ; 
 
 Hearts full of rancour, envy and base spite. 
 
 The railing words of such as you deceive, 
 
 That open angry mortifying wounds; 
 
 Be not the language, (as sufficient judge, 
 
 Is each mans conscience !) of right-mindedness. 
 {To the Lieutenant) Have you no words at all, of comfort, 
 
 for us? 
 Lieut. Tidings be few : two Eastlander destroyers, 
 
ii8 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Conveying army transports, past the Nore; 
 
 Fallen on our laid-out contact mines, there foundered. 
 
 After some musketry fire, their transport ships ; 
 
 With military stores and three new regiments. 
 
 On board ; to our torpedo boats, surrendered. 
 
 Such, cruising at great speed, on the high seas. 
 For merchant ships, have many prizes made ; 
 Of home-bound Eastlanders, 
 
 Tradesman. And our other ports....? 
 
 Lieut. Would they were ours ! This week was Portsmouth 
 lost. 
 Bombarded day and night, from sea and shore ; 
 Battered, with heavy guns, to powder, were 
 Her weak defenses, and great Arsenal fired, 
 By high-explosive shells. All that vast yard, 
 (Founded, in the beginning, by the Romans,) 
 Of basins, workshops, docks ; which strength and pride, 
 Was, for a thousand years ! of naval England. 
 They burned all ships there building and in dock : 
 Vessels, afloat in harbour, they cut out. 
 
 The glorious kings ship Victory, being thus taken, 
 Britains Palladium, by the envious enemies ; 
 Once more her capstan manned was, to shrill pipe : 
 Heaved anchor. And unberthed, the old three-decker 
 Rode, twixt two Eastlander cruisers, for her guard. 
 
 She; our enemies, with loud foreign shout, triumphing; 
 Salvas of cannon and tempestuous music ; 
 When hoised their foreign standard, at the main ; 
 Was towed out, for a trophy of Englands war, 
 And our disgrace. Her frigates masts seen then 
 Were garlanded, with English oaken green ! 
 
 But when, off Holy Island, they arrived ; 
 And drew nigh port : forewarned, by wireless grams. 
 Awaited them there British submarines. 
 That blew up their own Victory, which there sunk, 
 
CARPENTERS LAST JOURNEY 119 
 
 With honour ; and by her rent timbers, foundered 
 One of the enemy cruisers. They the other, 
 With her propellers injured and foreplates 
 Stove in, ceased from pursuing, then only; when her 
 Rife wireless signal-calls brought flocking warships 
 Out from, (nigh-hand there,) Eastlanders' war-haven. 
 
 Britain begins, in airmanship, to excell : 
 The Island-flyers be more adventurous. 
 Are fearful daily conflicts, in the Element. 
 Can those the fleetest winds outstrip in flight ; 
 Or fowl-like stem them, in the aery paths : 
 Or, for their air-flying enemies, in await, 
 Lurk in cloud thickets of the baseless height. 
 
 No more they fear waves' wallowing wilderness. 
 Speeding o'er seas, by day or night, they turn 
 Again to coast. They hover over fleets ; 
 To fling destruction on them down ; terrific 
 New explosive ; which being hurled from height, 
 Can shiver huge warships' iron sides, as glass. 
 
 Tradesman. Is that, with their own deaths.^ 
 
 Lieut. With their own deaths. 
 
 Who is there, would not for his Nations Life, 
 
 Hazard himself, yield willingly his own life, 
 
 For England? Never have intrepid spirits 
 
 Been here found wanting : Britains soil breeds such. 
 
 For every hardy, adventurous, desperate enterprise ; 
 
 A thousand volunteers. 
 
 Tradesman. I do believe it. 
 
 Lieut. Through them, may yet the pang recoil of war ; 
 Which those brought in, upon our enemies' necks ; 
 Hurling back war, in their own midst, for war : 
 A fearful retribution, from the air. 
 Even then, that magnanimity should be shown ; 
 Which rightly holds first place, in British hearts. 
 Significant purpose of the Eastlander is ; 
 
I20 THE CLOUDS 
 
 By raid or by bombardment, in this war ; 
 
 To seize, suppress, raze, ruin and lay waste. 
 
 All great steel foundry works ; wherein is ordnance 
 
 Forged ; and yards, where be warships built and docked. 
 
 Is found a powerful new projectile ; such, 
 That had our engineers, to cast them, space ; 
 Can burst through all hard-faced Eastlanders' thickest 
 armour-plates. 
 But these be musings only, cogitations. 
 Yet look abroad ! There mutterings be of stirs, 
 Which go before great Continental wars. 
 Tradesman. You have, Sir, matter given us, of much 
 
 thought. 
 Yeoman. I liken England, as today She is ; 
 
 To some stall-fed great queasy beast ; whose sores 
 May hardly more be healed, when they break forth. 
 Tradesman. The whole Machine is rusty, of Britains 
 State, 
 And long hath been. Were busy Her own sons, 
 To rend Her bowels ! 
 Lieut. And loosen all the joints, 
 
 Of that compacted BODY POLITIC : 
 Which virtue and industry of our grandsires built up. 
 « * « 
 
 Me had that husbandman seated in his cart ; 
 Since I began, taken with a sudden failing, 
 Of sense and limb ; to totter in the path. 
 I might no more: I could them not resist; 
 Lifting me, that had wavered, to the dust. 
 
 Last now, the way to this next town, is passed. 
 We here begin, to enter in a street. 
 
 They each other, said Farewell\ have now dispersed ; 
 And I light down, in utter weariness. 
 
PENMOR IN WALES 
 
 Thus far I saw, when blent my vision was. 
 A sharp constraint took hold on me of heart. 
 The young man Carpenter, I perceived no more ; 
 Left sitting on a bench, beside his horse ; 
 Weary, fordone, where breathed the evening wind : 
 Was Favels bridle fallen from his hand. 
 
 Methought, I an hospital saw, and men come forth. 
 Bearing a bier. Or he lay dying there ; 
 Consumed by aching misery of his long path ; 
 Wherefore the divine Muse, (to whom unmeet 
 Were look on mortals death,) withdrew herself; 
 Or else her listed to turn otherwhere, 
 (that she inbreathed,) the tenor of my verse. 
 
 When gan my troubled sense again to clear ; 
 The sacred Muse me showed an upland path, 
 And mountain head, of ling, bog, sand and stones : 
 Penmor in Wales ; where lately established was 
 A fortified Station. Army air-flyers, scouts, 
 Saw I ; sharpshooters, gunners, engineers. 
 
 Mast and antennae, saw I there installed ; 
 Whence, writ in the airs, were sent forth secret grams: 
 And signals winged, of mens sollicitudes, 
 From the large compass of the aerosphere, 
 Continually were received. Uneasy it was. 
 To sift the true, from counterfeit messages, 
 That war feigns to deceive ; which still vibrated, 
 Through the vast speaking Ocean of the air. 
 
122 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Enemies air-flyers, had oftentimes essayed, 
 To wreck this Wireless Station ; with night-hurled 
 Bombs, when lights out ; but had those fallen wide. 
 By day, our soldier-marksmen at them shot. 
 Men used, for shelter, an old mining adit ; 
 (Whence lead was delved and silver in old time ;) 
 Steel sconces and domed cupola of thick iron plate. 
 
 I a tablet marked, set in a craig, of bronze ; 
 Whereon was graven ; Here stood Caratacus. 
 [An artillery officer, coming off duty, meets with a 
 Welshman : one, with long out-blowing hairs ; who 
 pacing to and fro, balances a divining-rod betwixt 
 his hands^ 
 Officer. I think you be a gentleman of these parts ? 
 Bard. Though men me call a bard, the royal blood 
 Of Howel Dha ; and, (if Sir, I should boast,) 
 Llewelyn, Prince of Wales, throbs in these veins. 
 Officer. Much derived honour ! as Greek poet hath it : 
 A splendid grace in mortals, to be born 
 Is, of great blood and noble antique ho7ise. 
 
 Dear to the Attic muse, another quoth ; 
 Let no man stain his far-derived descent. 
 And generous stock, by an ignoble life. 
 Bard. A noble poet! 
 Officer. But can you tell me, what 
 
 This means, engraved, with Welsh words gilt above it : 
 Here stood the gweledic Caratacus....'' 
 Bard. That table, of long-enduring bronze, is metal, 
 
 Which hundred silverlings bought of mine own purse. 
 Time was, when I received a Bards reward : 
 I it offered and affixed it here myself: 
 That Scripture did I meditate and compose : 
 One of your Lloegriath Nation Englished it ; 
 {Lloegriadd, know, is Saxon, in bards' speech :) 
 Under one crown and feathers, now made friends. 
 Here, have I seen him soothly, in dream, in thought; 
 
PENMOR IN WALES 123 
 
 (Or call it what you will, in Saxon speech ; 
 
 It is a Brython vein, a Cymric sense.) 
 
 I have seen him here myself, great Brenm Caradog ! 
 
 Sublime in chariot, comely as a god. 
 
 The Glory of Britain, leading his caterfs 
 
 They pass by, in companies ; lo, the Flower of 
 Pry dam, 
 (Which Island-Beautiful sounds, in Brython tongue ;) 
 With lofty looks and iron battle-noise ; 
 Strenuous, great limbed men, ready of their hands. 
 And, as tall ash, mongst lesser forest-trees : 
 So amongst them heroes all, is each folk-captain, 
 Pre-eminent. And wild cry follows them. 
 Of wolves ; which sent from far the slaughter blood ! 
 This hill-brow looketh far forth, o'er glen and llyn, 
 To waste salt flood. Is here the soul again. 
 Beyond Worlds Voice, become as little child, 
 Nigh to the Bosom of her Father, Heaven ! 
 
 Officer. What thing is that you ponder twixt your palms 1 
 
 Bard. Well cut and truly, from witch-hazel scrog, was 
 This virtuous branch : third moons fifth night ; hour 
 
 when, 
 (So I 'm credibly informed,) wise Aristotle wrote ! 
 Her beams, holde and unholde, be most of force. 
 Best spray is that, which by some churchyard grows ; 
 Or where have criminals hanged in bygone times. 
 In windy chains. Repute our great learned men ; 
 It springs from bush, whence was that rod of his, 
 Which Horeb smote, and flowed forth waterbrooks. 
 
 Therewith I pace, and listen to these rocks ; 
 (And cast out every living human thought ;) 
 If so were, I might hear them creep: is that. 
 Where metal-delving elves travail beneath. 
 Sometime they knock ! 
 
 Officer. And there is water here ? 
 
 Bard. There is, and might a man it find, to stanch 
 
124 THE CLOUDS 
 
 An armys thirst : and hidden wealth of ore, 
 
 Lies couched ; enough to make all Gweneth^ rich, 
 
 Not only of lead, but malm of the red gold. 
 
 And proof is this : where else have mountain elves 
 Digged their rich hoards ? You may believe it not : 
 But some, which saw them in our grandames days, 
 Be only lately dead. Would you hear, what 
 'S recorded in old written books of poesies ; 
 In antique Cymric speech, hard to be read? 
 
 Officer. I am now off duty ; and will listen gladly. 
 
 Bard. Shall not we sit then? Here is tufted heath. 
 
 {They sit down 
 You are to mark, there is a certain night ; 
 Wherein stout-hearted, bold enough, might a wight ; 
 Who passed not for strange neighbours, be enriched. 
 
 It is not wholly fable, that I speak : 
 Though seem it such, to tell of Elf-land white ; 
 And spirits of bleak Moonlight, in days, alas! 
 Of wars invading rage, in Ynys Prydain'-: 
 Shut up, like besieged City ; and enemies' ships 
 Riding in every haven, Howbeit, Her last 
 Defense, recorded in old soothfast prophecies ; 
 Shall be from Cambria, a Mother of all Britons. 
 
 Officer. And how should such one bear his part } 
 
 Bard. So must. 
 
 He lurk, mongst those hill-sprites, that they him see not. 
 
 Ofticer. Seems thing impossible ! 
 
 Bard. Please you, hear the rest. 
 
 From dewfall, till new day-spring in these hills ; 
 That Night, (none knows that Night, which now do live;) 
 When hold their revels all the goblin kin. 
 Which live exempt from human crimes, among 
 These mountain steeps ; first heard, like crickets 
 
 chirping; 
 (But other some say, like to small fowls' steven ; 
 
 ' North Wales. - Island Britain. 
 
PENMOR IN WALES 125 
 
 That sing away our heaviness, in the morn, 
 In thickets shrouded;) are, through fairy mist, 
 Thin voices of the elfen Nation calh'ng, 
 Betwixt them, in elf speech, from craig to cliff. 
 
 Dwarves, cobolds, pucks, white and dune elves, fay- 
 wights ; 
 All hill-folk that have under stone their stead, 
 Rise : and who elflings ben of age to wed ; 
 Wedge-gold they, aproned smiths, have won and wrought. 
 From these hard rocks, and smelted in year past ; 
 Upbring, both bright and fine in their both hands: 
 Brides of the year, whom they would buy, to choose. 
 
 Sit elf-sheen fay-maids in their open doors, 
 (Clefts, halkes, hemes, holds, faybowers ;) when Days 
 
 Eye peeps. 
 Not more to be discerned, in these wild cliffs ! 
 
 Combed to their girdle-steads, veil bright gossamer 
 locks 
 Their star-sheen faces. Dight ben seen their necks ; 
 (For gold wont elves esteem, they daily get. 
 As less of price ;) with gracious amber glass. 
 They in tippets sit attired, all shining white ; 
 And kirtles, which of leaves and flowers seem wrought; 
 Girt with a silken ceint of pillow-grass. 
 
 Wont certain shag-haired goblins of the Plain, 
 Woodwases named ; (for that, of the Moonbeams, 
 Delivered is, in mossy mould, begot ; 
 They quickened and as worms, crept from wood-ground;) 
 Drunken of adders-wort, hither to leap ; 
 That night, which bride-night is, unbidden guests. 
 
 (Of whom 't is told: lords of the dew-worms' host; 
 Without their covert working, might the clod 
 Not yield her increase.) Leaving in low field, 
 Their own bast-hewed woodwives ; durst, mongst sharp 
 
 craigs, 
 Upclimbed, those to contend, with mountain sprites ; 
 
THE CLOUDS 
 
 For fairy brides ! But they, whose clownish hands 
 May bring no gracious gifts ; ben hurled from steeps, 
 By the joint valour of prowd elfen knights : 
 (Which ben a royal guard, of lignage great ; 
 That stand, to fence King Oberon, day and night, 
 With pikes and bows; sword-girt, in shining harness.) 
 
 Fay-fathers old, with sallets on their heads ; 
 (Wise-sayers are those, that sit on cliff apart ;) 
 Winding the while, of grave and ghostly note ; 
 Their wreathed loud battle-horns of whelken shells. 
 Bellowing from craig to craig, it multiplies 
 The Daughter of the Air, with mocking voice. 
 
 Their wont, first is ; bemoan and call by name, 
 All goodfellows ; (whose thin shadows seem then pass 
 By, on the mountain mist, pale ghostly train !) 
 That sithen last years great Elf-mote, alas ; 
 Lie grave-oafs, ended under living grass. 
 
 When elf-wooers all have chosen Valentines ; 
 Bridegrooms and brides anon, before King Oberon, 
 (With the ice-grey allwise, inseeing eyes,) 
 Themselves present ; who knits their happy hands. 
 
 Being sounded then high-tide, solemn ELF-MOTE ! 
 Run-to all goblin kind, with the bride-folk : 
 And at new crow of conchs, they marshalled sit ; 
 In cross-shanked bevies, on the thymy turf; 
 In Heavens Star Hall, after their kins and place ; 
 By the light of the Moon ; and honey-cakes eat, 
 And curds with wastel-bread, apples and nuts ; 
 And what else, elves to brides'-night feast, have brought. 
 Bilberries, wood-sleepwort, cherry-stones have men found ; 
 And shales of howlets' eggs, where fays have supped. 
 
 In reverence of the Moon, done off their hoods ; 
 With becks and quirks, each making other mirth ; 
 They eat their cates, and drink the clear dew drops. 
 But when all have enough, whilst ancients sit. 
 
PENMOR IN WALES 127 
 
 Sipping the old years mead, in precious cups 
 
 Of antique beaten gold ; (th^t mingled is, 
 
 Men say, of honey and sloes, with elderberries ;) 
 
 Run young elf-sprites ; in whom is any flit-foot, 
 
 And skittish joints. Some fling in breathless haste, 
 
 O'er berg and hill : skipping from craig kid-like, 
 
 To craig, some hide and seek mongst steepling cliffs : 
 
 And Penmors brinks chace round, in their disport. 
 
 Other, at echoes play, in misty deeps ; 
 Luring from scar to scar, from pen to bryn : 
 Some hie, to gather wortles, where they find them. 
 Not few descended, in their jollity, where 
 A stern night-spirit boweth down the tall woods, 
 (where is the man in the oak, that seems a flame, 
 And dance the loping hares, in the light of the Moon, 
 Beyond the glen ;) See which can over the //yn. 
 Trip it; and not so wet their dainty shoon. 
 
 Or o'er awned ears, wing-footed running on, 
 Of the green corn, in grim woodwases plain ; 
 Where, in field stitches, Scrats stand, making mows ; 
 (Sprites of low cobold kind,) with glowing eyne ; 
 Not bear them down ! and like to grasshoppers then, 
 Elves on all, by the white light of the Moon ; 
 Tumbling together, in the new cocked hay : 
 Some fling wheels, some cast, in each others faces, 
 The mowers swathe. Frolic, headlong, anon ; 
 They swift, to Penmors cliffs, repair again. 
 
 There new-wed pairs, (of all alive on mould, 
 Most glad eyed those !) go gleeful pacing forth ; 
 And elves wont, where they come, cast on them flowers. 
 
 But where plain is and even ground beyond, 
 (Twixt these twin bergs ;) whence gladsome hubbub 
 
 sounds : 
 Fay mothers resort and elves of graver thought ; 
 And wont, with listful ears, stand there around ; 
 
28 THE CLOUDS 
 
 The rest sit down, on shadow of the Moon ; 
 
 And wag their pows : whilst goodfellow Paigle plays. 
 
 He and she, young unwed elves, stepped on their feet ; 
 Linked hand in hand, all in the Moons white light ; 
 Go on the ring-dance, to that music sweet. 
 
 {Song 
 
 After Her, tliere trips a star ; 
 Twinking gladly from afar ; 
 She bears Cynthias staff and wallet ; 
 And shall spread her smooth sedge pallet ; 
 When She list to close Her eyes, 
 In some wild wood of the skies. 
 
 With lifting knee-bows fast those featly tread ; 
 And weaving to and fro of tinkling shanks : 
 Skipping with swift fetched sole-casts of light feet, 
 And many a beck, elves carol and tread round : 
 Likening the compassed heavens wide starry choirs. 
 
 Or else ; where Pipits flute blows merry note : 
 With pulse of nimble feet ; 
 Scorched sod those beat, they beat ; 
 Tossing from smooth round napes, long bright elf-locks : 
 Whiles thereby standing fayfolk roundsong chant : 
 (The melody and measure wonders quaint to us !) 
 With goblin laughter, mingling oft their voice. 
 
 Last, who, fay-maid, is deemed to have danced best ; 
 And maze of wreathing arms, doth featly thread ; 
 Fays dight with ouch of moonstone, glowing bright. 
 
 What elfling proud can, better than the best, 
 Sith foot it, on the quick slick sod apart ; 
 Being guerdoned, with wreathed bracelet of fine bronze ; 
 Against her, as guise is then, danceth forth. 
 
 Whereafter fays, as Sun and Moon them crown ; 
 With breathing flowers, which open in the night. 
 In cadence, all clap hands. Her maid-feres then. 
 
PENMOR IN WALES 129 
 
 And his unwed companions, bring again, 
 Them home to the elf-mote, tumultuous. 
 
 Durgan, white elves' Soothsayer, sith, at daystar, 
 The Assembly hushed, doth solemnly last pronounce ; 
 Things likely to befall, in the New Year ! 
 
 When seeth King Oberon, sitting most on height ; 
 Twixt elves' queen Alba and fays' queen Whitefoot, 
 In steeple hats and kirtles shining white ; 
 Midst goblin elders, with old shrunken joints; 
 That babble, with one hand on their gold-bags ; 
 Erst gleams in the East ; when spirits be, of the dawn 
 Nigh to arrive ; and gins the waning Moon, 
 Now show his horns of gold ; twixt hollow hands ; 
 Goodyear ! he chants, till our next Mote: Goodnight. 
 
 Guidion, Assessor ; when hath spoken King Oberon ; 
 And Robin, Kings Recorder, loud outroop ; 
 No more tonight ! When Oberon King flings forth ; 
 Hie all, as startled conies ; hie, to earths : 
 (Crooks, wents, and hollow worksteads, under craig,) 
 At sunrist all ben crept back into Earths ground ! 
 
 But who hath heart, to pilfer for himself, 
 The goblins' hoarded gold ; which to mansons, 
 Of sovereign right, pertains ; since, (men say,) Man 
 Lord of all creatures is : he it privily must 
 Snatch from the backward. And espy him sprite, 
 Such should, to glitter-clay, turn in his hands, 
 
 Mennisc, in our Elf-mote ! loud shrill fay-folk, 
 A Mantowns wight, is found mongst us, this night ! 
 All then run-to : elves pinch him blue as sloe. 
 They buffet him so sore ; till Oberon cries, So-lio ! 
 That he remain must lunatic, in his mind. 
 
 I have seen one, in my youth, then an old man ; 
 (He speechless was !) of whom such things were told. 
 
 Officer. You have pretty fantasies here, in Bardic Wales. 
 Bard. Yet men be found, which call them grandames' tales! 
 
I30 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Officer. Unkind! Like honest mirth, may fay-tales serve; 
 
 Amidst our tangled steps, in Worlds wood-paths,... 
 Bard. To ease a pensive mind ! 
 Officer. 'T is hour we sup : 
 
 And I may bring a guest ; I bid you in. 
 
 'T is simple fare you '11 find. Two hours remain. 
 
 Of Summer evening light : you will have time. 
 Bard. I honour shall esteem it, to eat bread, 
 
 With the Kings officers : and I willingly obey. 
 
SUPPER TALK 
 
 Now supper ready, in their shelter adit ; 
 The Muses Power me present made, in spirit. 
 Discoursed was. Whether yet the war were lost"? 
 Some held thus : other there-against, vehement spake 
 Mongst whom that Bard, there sitting as a guest ; 
 Some notable prophecy, in his British poesies. 
 Protesting; of soothsayer, antique MerthinS 
 Beginning ; / see Wars footsteps in the fields ! 
 (Wherein a mortal spake immortal words, 
 Upon his seven-stringed dreaming instrument ; 
 Unfolding, of a Nation yet unborn, 
 The fates.) 
 
 From mountaijis of the eagles, (that 
 Is Cambria,) should be Prydains last defense. 
 
 Cambria, he cries, whose mountains and fast rocks, 
 Importuous, Her a natural fortress make! 
 Though shut in last, least Corner, of the Isle, 
 Be our resistance : Wedges shall, of steely 
 From Her hill-strengths descending, (Merthin saith,) 
 Isle Britain sever from Her etiemies ! 
 
 Briefly to touch the substance of their talk : 
 The Common Voice saith ; Should the Parliament 
 Assemble now in Wales : and rumour is, 
 These days, of a Dictator to be named. 
 
 All hearts cry out, for one, (great Scipion ;) 
 Warden of Britain, captain in the wars ; 
 In whom a deceived Nation dares to trust. 
 
 1 Or Merlin. 
 
132 THE CLOUDS 
 
 In Lancashire, in the Midlands and South Shires, 
 
 Defeated were our Caucus generals, 
 
 With deserved ignominy ; whose fond boast was, lead 
 
 Striplings to Victory, against war-wont soldiers. 
 
 Where dearth was ere, today bread-riots are rife. 
 
 Savage inhuman, is that civil strife ; 
 
 Of who have unlearned to be citizens : 
 
 Naught reck they, of danger thereby to the STATE : 
 
 Nor would they endeavour aught, for Countrys sake. 
 Lament of bitter hearts is in each Place ! 
 
 Famine and war now added to their lot. 
 
 Men bark, for misery, with hollow looks ; 
 
 That tell of homes destroyed and substance lost. 
 
 They and their wives and children go unfed. 
 The Enemys cruisers, corn and flour cut off. 
 
 Now public maintenance faileth : fear is, that cannot 
 The rabble rage much longer be repressed ; 
 That must bewray us to our enemies ! 
 
 With hunger wasted, men lose hope and strength. 
 Now watchword, of the Invader enemy is ; 
 
 Were soonest England tamed, by famishment. 
 
 Where the rich pinch, the poor must perish : it is 
 An old said saw. Men lacking sustenance daze. 
 Who gathered pulse and horsemeat, in wide fields ; 
 Or lately fed of bitter public loaves, 
 (Which were not bread !) that now have ceased ; who 
 
 wheat 
 And barley ears, of pluckt-down stacks, did roast, 
 In feeble flames of corn-stalks ; with drawn brows, 
 Whereon seems death to sit ; must newly flit, 
 With trembling knees, to range fields' empty furrows ; 
 Seeking wild meat, in unfilled balks ; hedge-worts, 
 Unsound, to put under their childrens teeth ; 
 To seethe them in their pots : and roots, to bake, 
 In ashes of their hearths. 
 Each day awakes, 
 
SUPPER TALK 133 
 
 With dread. Who >-et have strength, seek lean hips forth ; 
 Cresses by hollow brooks : some chaw white moss. 
 By wayside, seen were men, browse the green grass ! 
 
 Other were seen contend, where battle was : 
 (And notwithstanding whose stout worthy deeds, 
 Where ours, by numbers' weight, had been oppressed ;) 
 With filthy crows, thick flying from murk woods ! 
 That sent foul field of slaughter, afar off. 
 Whose whistling pinions bloodied, where they lighted ; 
 To hop, from festering corse, to festering corse ; 
 (Left in their iron sleep, in field to rot ; 
 Field they, with constant fortitude, had defended !) 
 And pick mens eyes, once light of happy homes : 
 Folded, on clay-cold foreheads of the slain ! 
 
 Midst fetor horrible, spilth, swart grisly gore ; 
 (Where fell ten times a thousand murdered men : 
 And lay a bloody dew all on the herb ; 
 Full, as in Summer-heat, of loathsome flies : 
 Where a foot treads, wronged Mother Earth wells gore !) 
 Seen those contend, for horses' carcases, were ; 
 (Slain noble-fronted beasts, for human crime :) 
 And to rend loathsome meat, mongst snarling hounds ; 
 (Themselves, like to field beasts !) their unclean hands. 
 
 And, in wars straitness and extremity, is this 
 Years seedtime lost : shall be none Harvest-season ! 
 
 I saw men fugitive, from their burning homes : 
 They seemed dry reeds ; that had not tasted bread ! 
 Stumbled, with gaunt looks, moaning multitude ; 
 Wavering on hi'll-sides ; in waste fields, dispersed : 
 Many, as they wander, droop and fall in death. 
 Wretches, once citizens, harbourless now, breathe forth 
 Their lives in woods : the thickets stink with corses. 
 
 Lairs, men, in dew-steeped herb, (where her nest hath 
 The gentle lark,) in deadly weariness, have : 
 They lie down, as couch cattle, in the fern. 
 
34 THE CLOUDS 
 
 In lodges of bent boughs, who have more strength, 
 (Shelter from dew and the unkindly wind,) 
 Recover them ; and in cabans of digged turves. 
 
 A new Instruction is of Parliament ; 
 That citizens flee no more, from their waste homes : 
 Since it might be impossible, henceforth. 
 To feed them fugitive. A nd are finger-posts ; 
 Now on all ways and roads, to be destroyed. 
 
 Men, hating the empty daylong dying want, 
 Delirious, nightlong, hunger-dream of bread ; 
 Accusing heaven, that they regard no more ; 
 Which not regardeth them, in their desperate miseries ! 
 Renouncing, to fling more the winged waste prayer ; 
 Towards Coast of stars' cold mocking multitude : 
 Envying of them that sleep, the happier case : . 
 Frenzied, demoniac, daily slay themselves. 
 
 In hunger-need, friends, acquaintance, strive for food ! 
 Brother will take his brother, by the throat. 
 Women, with wailing sucklings, at dry dugs ; 
 To snatch ! were seen, last morsels, from the mouths ; 
 Of tender orphans, of their sisters dead. 
 
 And when this wicked War shall sometime cease ; 
 Impious inhuman warfare! Where may bread 
 Be found ? that each a little, and not enough, 
 Put in his mouth. Wretches shall not be able, 
 With blackened tongues then, to swallow their bread, alas ! 
 And after so great Dearth, cometh a great Death. 
 
 The Eastlanders now, compelled by the Worlds voice. 
 Outraged humanity, have established doles : 
 But, to crave alms, of armed usurping enemies ; 
 Aliens in Englands soil, is wretchedness. 
 
 Is daily, in our, not occupied yet, West Shires, 
 The price raised, over that which yesterday was, 
 Of bread ;... loaf which is mingled of all meals; 
 (Flour even of acorns, gathered in wild woods ;) 
 
SUPPER TALK 135 
 
 Which, by a famished multitude, can be eaten. 
 
 London invested, flashed was few days past. 
 Valorous Kent-dwellers, somewhile had resisted 
 The Eastlanders march, advancing from Thames Mouth, 
 And Sandwich Haven. From Essex, marched in force, 
 The Burners of Easthampton. Portsmouth lost, 
 A third full army-corps is arrived from thence, 
 
 London beleaguered, surging in her streets. 
 Proclaim a frantic parricide populace, 
 The supersession of all private rights ; 
 Shall every bond and covenant be released. 
 Unto all an equal lot, a common purse. 
 
 Vast thronging rabblement. Bedlam multitude ; 
 Would, (such the insane fury of their hearts !) 
 Marching with dire outcry, fire London streets. 
 
 Dread Carnival of Unreason ! Homicide swarms. 
 Led by one Mansworn, on that other part ; 
 {Captain-of-the-oppressed- People, he him calls,) 
 Have, raging routs, the Parliament House beset. 
 
 Thence haled were, grovelling, from their usurped 
 seats. 
 Mendacious demagogues ; that had longtime mocked, 
 And moved to civil strife, the common sort. 
 Could not those brook, that larger living thought, 
 (Grief of good hearts !) THE Surety OF THE Nation. 
 
 Lifted, midst hideous tumult, was no voice. 
 To save them, Frampold, Darnel, Balderdash ; 
 Sowers of mischief, stirrers-up of strife ; 
 And Dogface, more presumptuous than the rest : 
 When those were buffeted, through great Parliament 
 
 Street. 
 By such men, Englands arms were overthrown, 
 Ere battle was ! and frustrated were Her fleets. 
 
 The Nation, that was full of slumbering hates ; 
 Deceivers ! those, for only private ends ! 
 
136 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Subverted ; like to swine which wroot up grass : 
 And marred, through homely strife, their Lands defense. 
 All Unity of Resistance thus was lost. 
 
 God let them never thrive ! all seeing heaven, 
 Soon take, to common profit ! their base breaths. 
 Was foreign, to their treasonable thoughts ; 
 The unity and concord of all British hearts. 
 
 Ships, from the Sister Britains, overseas, 
 Begin now to arrive : their wireless grams, 
 Have we this day received ; and they have ours. 
 
 Among them, was this hardly spoken; when came, 
 From the steel cupola, all hastily, an officer in. 
 With intense looks : air-grams were in his hand. 
 London, quoth he, with stern and constant face, 
 As THESE WORDS TESTIFY! now received by us, 
 Is partly avenged. Our aeroplane destroyers. 
 Are hadesite hurling on the leaguering armies ! 
 With din terrific, above cannons throat. 
 By wireless telephone, ye might even hear it ! 
 Is every bomb dropt, thousand Eastlanders' deaths. 
 Bodies of armed men enemies, which stand, midst 
 The mortal surge of each death-dealing blast. 
 Be blown to motes ! who more without, caught up, 
 In the air ; beat, after moments, back to Earth ; 
 Grave themselves, gory corses, there. The first 
 Fall last then ; rained from skies, with glittering dust ; 
 Wide dew of blood ! For under heaven, can naught 
 Resist, that a frame hath and living breath ; 
 (Called rightly by its name,) that hellish blast ! 
 Our air-flyers die, for England ! with their deaths. 
 Even, whiles we here speak thus, such goeth there forth ! 
 Foes, fellow-countrymen perish in one death. 
 
 Another Officer. To die for Country, is rightly a soldiers 
 death 
 
 Another. His crown of honour ! 
 
 \ 
 
SUPPER TALK 137 
 
 Silent, with bowed heads : 
 Saw I them sit, in reverence of those deaths ! 
 Their thought on God. 
 
 In a recess of rock. 
 Lighted with lamps beyond ; I saw one laid, 
 Upon a bed ; in foreign uniform clad. 
 He a Prisoner was ; and British officers, fed 
 Of their humanity, him, with gentle hands. 
 All broken were his limbs ; black-bruised his flesh. 
 
 In an aeroplane hdd he jeopardied him aloft; 
 To wreck this Wireless Station, three nights past : 
 But our searchlights, revealing his attempt ; 
 Was his machine lamed, presently, of swift shot : 
 Falling, he planed ; and sunk alive to Earth ! 
 
 He an enemy ; yet as man mongst men ; one bound 
 With them, in bond of human frailty ; 
 With piety, here was nursed and hourly attended. 
 With Surgeons skill. The Captain-Surgeon passed 
 Upon his round. Low-voiced some then discoursed : 
 How easily had, by weight of invading armies ; 
 Assailed at unawares, been proud England lost ! 
 The valour and sufficiency of Britains sons ; 
 And singular, notwithstanding, worth of men. 
 Whom Her soil breeds, in every trade of life. 
 
 But She, being taken improvident, unarmed ! 
 Full too of homely rancours, though forewarned : 
 Were but as grains those, mongst much dust, of sand. 
 
 The Prisoner murmured answer, as he could ; 
 Look on this mortar ! It was lime and sand ; 
 Which mingled water set to a fast stone. 
 Us likewise, Lovc-of -Country knits together ; 
 So that, in Day of War, we are as one. 
 And hard is it, to fight against a stone. 
 
HELP FROM OVERSEAS 
 
 Power of the muse, Penmor I saw no more ; 
 But under the Sunsetting, a large shore ; 
 And fleet of anchored transports riding near : 
 And warships with them, flying at the fore, 
 The Red-Cross banner of the FIVE FREE BRITAINS. 
 (Eluded our grain-convoy in the night. 
 Had the Enemy s squadron, and here entered safe.) 
 
 Fair bay it was : stand wide pitched on the Plain, 
 Which bordered nigh salt waters shore ; I saw 
 A quadrate camp, with thousand tents of soldiers. 
 
 From Britains overseas, have those arrived : 
 Ships discharge corn ; and coal is hoised aboard. 
 Soldiers all day, in many boats, disbarked. 
 Whilst yet I gazed, and marvelled in my thought ! 
 Late Summer Sun went down, on broad seawaves. 
 
 Meseemed then presently, that within an house, 
 I was ; amidst some evening Company of guests ; 
 In town, which pleasant stands, of Western Britain, 
 By that sea-side : where, as we gathered round ; 
 A young man, frank, ingenuous voiced, (wherein 
 Grave organ-tones,) a winged-chant read aloud ; 
 Chant, which had this day Sister Gertrude made: 
 Whereunto all we, which in those sounding walls ; 
 Her undersong rehearsed. 
 
 She, with her Ambulance, 
 Reached hither yesterday ; where pitched rifle-ranges 
 Were, of the levies of the League of Patriots. 
 
HELP FROM OVERSEAS 139 
 
 At Sunrise, when that Overseas' fleet came in, 
 Was standing Sister Gertrude at sea-brim ; 
 (Warned, it is said, by a prophetic dream :) 
 And noble widowed maiden, poetess; seemed, 
 (War-Maiden, of Britain,) she, beholding them ; 
 In passion of her soul, as one inspired. 
 
 L.ay, which she suddenly her heart within 
 (Her heart like to some seething sacred vessel !) 
 Conceived ; did meditate and then frame : in seeing 
 Those Brother Britons, men of her own kin; 
 Soldiers from beyond seas, War-help for Britain, 
 Disbark ; indited from her teeming lips : 
 Imprinted sith ; was sold in the evening street, 
 As a News-Sheet ; to buy poor orphans bread. 
 
 {Sister Gertrudes So)ig 
 
 Blessed shall named, in Britains years to come, 
 Be this days Sun : when we, which live therein ; 
 See with our eyes, that which World hath not seen, 
 In ages past. On you eternal rocks, 
 I call ! which wall and crown this Island coast ; 
 (Great renowned Nursing-Mother of all Britons !) 
 Make to me answer, echoing still their shout ; 
 As loud they hailed, from shore, their Mother Britain. 
 
 Now flows together all the House of Britain ; 
 One Mothers blood, which those divide with us ! 
 
 {A Captain of Overseas Soldiers ; which first disbark, 
 under an headland.'] 
 
 Captain. Honour, heart-worship, to this sceptered Rock ; 
 
 From whence we spring, enshrined in all our hearts. 
 
 Thy sons, we those Thy Sacred Knees embrace ; 
 
 Britain, which brought us and our fathers forth. 
 All. Britain, which brought us and our fathers forth. 
 Captain. Mother, with inward living warmth of Love ; 
 
 Like as spring leaves, out of the golden bud, 
 
 Against the Sun, towards Thee, our hearts unfold. 
 
HO THE CLOUDS 
 
 All. Mother, with love towards Tliee, our hearts unfold. 
 Captain. Out of our transports, we this day disbark ; 
 
 Ten thousand and ten thousand, from sea voyage. 
 All. Ten thousand and ten thotisand, from sea voyage. 
 Captain. Sailed to maintain Thy Right ; when we go up, 
 
 Thy sons' sons, from this Foster CHff, in arms ; 
 
 We, Mother, will establish it, with our lives. 
 All. We, O Mother, will establish it, with our lives! 
 Captain. Who would look on, and see a foreign scorn 
 
 Put on his Mother? Her which sitteth crowned,... 
 All. Who woidd look on, and see a foreign scorn 
 
 Put on his Mother? Her that sitteth crowned,... 
 Captain. Within this Metropolitan Isle! adorned, 
 
 With noble offspring. Sons, with Her home-sons, 
 
 Partners in Empire, members of one Bond, 
 
 One Family, Five free Nations of Her blood ; 
 
 Her overseas', sons, we, in fellowship of prowd arms, 
 
 In faithful brotherhood, will endeavour us ! 
 All. We, in faithful brotherhood, will endeavour us. 
 Captain. Britain in peril, FOSTER, which hath nursed 
 
 Our infancy, of the fulness of Her Breast ; 
 
 Which did, on our far shores, defend our youth ; 
 
 We stand this day before Her, in bright arms ; 
 
 To uphold the honour of OuR Fathers' House : 
 
 That were not trodden down the fathers' graves ; 
 
 By the insolent heel of strong invading aliens. 
 All. To uphold the honour of our Fathers' House: 
 
 That were ?iot trodden doivn the fathers graves. 
 
 By the insolent heel of strong Invading Aliens. 
 Captain. Of Her it is, that we. Her daughter lands 
 
 (Grown daughters, dwelling each in Her own HOUSE,) 
 
 Amidst the Main-Sea Deeps, today possess 
 
 Our Heritage of New Homes and Livelihood. 
 All. Of Her it is, that we this day possess 
 
 The Heritage of our Homes and Livelihood, 
 Captain. In strength of all Thy sons. Thou mother state, 
 
HELP FROM OVERSEAS 141 
 
 Renew Thy youth : from whence, great parent STOCK, 
 Our rooted boughs, full of young sap, spread forth. 
 
 Tomorrow we, in soil of this Homeland, 
 With Her home-sons, will march, in patriot ranks ; 
 To meet the enemies of our Fathers' HOUSE. 
 All. Together will we march, hi patriot ranks ; 
 To meet t/ie enemies of our Fathers House. 
 
 {Sister Gertrudes Envoy 
 Mother of Nations, hearken and take heart ! 
 Know, that those great communities of thy Sons, 
 (Defenders of the Rock of the Five Britains ;) 
 Be, as the living chords, of one great harp; 
 Sounding in unison, in vast accord, 
 O'er main-sea deeps, from all Britannic shores. 
 (Britains Wide Echoing Rocks.) Qer Main-sea Deeps, 
 from all Britaimic shores ! 
 
 Was thereto appended, Sister Gertrudes Hymn ; 
 Which, for the League of Patriots, she ere made ; 
 (Was that, in first hours of the war ;) as might 
 He it remember, who here set it forth. 
 
 {Sister Gertrudes Hymn 
 
 Who would His Nation saved ; must he himself 
 Use high endeavour, learn Wars discipline. 
 Only through virtue, can be saved a Nation. 
 And else, when come calamitous days, defeat ; 
 And all ears tingle ! should it be too late. 
 
 Up ! Breathed is a New Spirit abroad, in England. 
 Sunder yourselves, from them that wilful sleep ! 
 A surfeited, fond, unmanned, malicious youth. 
 
 War-trumpet sounds ! Clamour, in Englands Field ! 
 Cry for Kings uniforms ; shout, for warlike arms ! 
 Hasteth each man, who ready heart bears in him ; 
 To fall-in, with the patriots' marching ranks ! 
 Patriots. A spark is fallen upon our hearts, from heaven ! 
 
142 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Ready to leap up, in enduring flame. 
 A Looker-on. Each sinew of their manhood, this day knit 
 
 Is, as a bowstring. 
 A Patriots Voice. Is it, ha ! too much ; 
 
 Debtors to England, for our lives and fortunes ! 
 
 That we should cast, that which is dear to us. 
 
 Before the footstool of Her gracious feet ? 
 Other Patriots' Voices. We make Religion of our 
 Countrys Service. 
 
 We fight gainst them, that seek the Nations Life! 
 Sister G. In those young Britons burns a generous flame : 
 
 Beat true their hearts, and pant with patriot breath. 
 
 Only through virtue, can be saved a Nation ! 
 Young Patriots. For love of Country, which constraineth 
 us, 
 
 Her sons will fight. We willingly, in Her defence. 
 
 Will cease, if need were, from this living light. 
 
 If unrequited, what is that to us ! 
 
 Who is, would stay to reckon recompense, when 
 
 His Mother is in peril ? 
 Sister G. This pious thought, 
 
 Shall pith give to your arms, peace to your hearts. 
 A Young Patriot. His labour, which hath Springtide in 
 his heart; 
 
 In peace or war, is light: there letteth us naught. 
 
 For Her, whose Smile is Peace, within our hearts, 
 
 Thou bloody bellowing War ! we welcome Death. 
 Another. And is it sweet to sleep, so shall be death. 
 Lookers-on. To unknown peril of invading War ; 
 
 Those speed them to depart. 
 Other Voices. Give back ! They pass. 
 Sister G. Marching with honour and the Peoples shout : 
 
 Eager to jeopardy their young lives to death. 
 
 Heavens favour shine on their true manly worth ! 
 Lookers-on. Our hearts go with them, and our prayers to 
 Heaven ! 
 
HELP FROM OVERSEAS i43 
 
 Men choosing sooner, to lose life, than faith ; 
 They march with lifted hearts, in patriot breasts. 
 Only through vh^tue, can be saved a Nation! 
 
 In that, a new pang gripped me by the throat ; 
 And thrilled my labouring chest, shaft of deaths smart : 
 Were not, that deigned, with Her high hand, uphold 
 The Muse herself, my life : and in the same ; 
 She seemed enlarge my sense ; so that I might 
 Behold, widewhere, Britains waste Midland parts: 
 Vast hive till lately, and workshop of the World ; 
 Whereby Her merchant traders were enriched. 
 And the whole Nation, by exchange of wares. 
 
 South from East Anglia, (Shoulder of Isle Britain, 
 Which the Enemy holds in force:) the Saxon SHORE, 
 To Spithead, with her three great Naval Ports ; 
 (Stations are those today of enemies' warships !) 
 I saw, in the Eastlanders Power. Within-land, was 
 One common Ruin, both of town and field ! 
 
 Amidst ; immense, I saw, (by Flame of War,) 
 Deformed iron waste ; sered, harried with the sword : 
 (There where wont Sun be darkened, o'er mens heads, 
 From morn till eve ; and seldwhiles heaven seen ; 
 For multifarious human enterprise!) 
 
 Hum was of thousand workshops, mills, pits, factories ; 
 (Where the armoury was erewhile. and wealth of 
 
 England,) 
 Silent ! 
 
 I saw the travail-stained hammer-men stand ; 
 
 Sons of the daily labours of their hands ; 
 
 Idle, at corners now of shot-crazed streets : 
 
 Toilers, for whom, those daylong murky hours, 
 
 The vital air was a pernicious breath ; 
 
 An headstrong, handstrong, hungered, impotent. 
 
 Pale multitude, with thick curses on their lips. 
 
 Cumbered dejected wretches the town paths: 
 
144 THE CLOUDS 
 
 Some were, that only shades of manhood seemed. 
 (Those startle, at the coming of a Stranger !) 
 
 Their joyless mills, and chimneyed factories, 
 Blackened by fire ; be broken down and waste. 
 Shut were the iron gates, behind their backs ! 
 
 Drudges of steel ; that giant, ere few days were, 
 Reciprocating stride of wheeling engines ; 
 Which wrought, with panting breaths, for human liveli- 
 hood ; 
 Hath ceased ! Weeks-end pay-wickets are no more. 
 That wealth which ministered wages, is consumed. 
 
 In that I mused, I heard some of their words : 
 Are not we, ten times, strong arms and strong hands. 
 As thirty-thousand men. Mates, had we been 
 Trained, and in regiments formed, the same as soldiers : 
 No foreign Nation could have gotten of us 
 The overhand : but Lancashire had prevailed ; 
 And England had been saved. 
 
 Lighted my gaze 
 Then on a certain town, far in the North. 
 Her hills I knew, spires, gables and high towers. 
 Are the Eastlanders in her gates ! The day before 
 Those entered, and took ransom of the Place. 
 
 In the cross-str6ets, stand foreign sentinels. 
 Tara-tantara ! . . As changing of their watch. 
 Strange trumpetings sound : tramp heard ! of war-field 
 
 stained 
 Men Eastlanders ; that, in uncouth uniforms, pass ! 
 Clatter their cavalry, on the streets paving stones. 
 In open squares, stand quick-firer Anglicide guns. 
 
 Billeted in every house, lodge foreign soldiers : 
 None are exempt. The public walls distained 
 Be, and citizens' doors, with strange War-notices, 
 And Regulations; that, in both the tongues, 
 Are set forth, in a foreign Sovereigns Name ! 
 
HELP FROM OVERSEAS 145 
 
 No more, in parts they occupy, be in force 
 The Laws of England ; but dins EngHsh air, 
 With hectoring utterance of Outlandish speech. 
 
 Kennels run blood : sheep slaughtered, in the streets, 
 Be and horned beasts ; that might strange soldiers sup : 
 (Though Englands children suffer famishment !) 
 Uncertain, and if this night they should not march. 
 (Those look for battle soon to be renewed !) 
 
 From hostelries, which they occupy parforce ; 
 Sound revelous lays of those victorious enemies ; 
 Whose vaunting ballad, Easterland over all; 
 And crapulent laughter, doth augment our grief 
 
 Britain, (those chant,) shall be no more a Nation. 
 They will build strongholds in Her, like the Normans ; 
 And part in five prcBsidia, as yore did Romans : 
 (Such shall be their Stadtholder Governments !) 
 
 Moreover, they pretend, the Doctrine holds: 
 That having forfeited every Englander his 
 Birthright, by right of Conquest ; the lapsed soil, 
 Doth, (namely, as much, as might be deemed expedient,) 
 To them revert ; that is, unto their Army 
 Of Occupation ; and their heirs in tail. 
 
 The former Owners may be recompensed, 
 As to one third part, by a general Tax ; 
 Which shall be levied, on the conquered Nation. 
 (Has a decree been drafted in this sense !) 
 
 Well-nigh, the Peoples heart hath ceased to beat ! 
 Dust would I were these pupils : ere they prostrate 
 See Britain ! Travailled, by Her demagogues ; 
 She waiteth for a man Her sons to lead ; 
 Weighty of counsel, of great former deeds : 
 At whose voice, being stilled all Civil Strife, 
 Might come new Patriot Impulse on the Nation ! 
 
 Illustrious P"athers of the Sacked Band ; 
 
146 THE CLOUDS 
 
 (Souls vowed, and consecrate, to Righteous Life ;) 
 Succeed into the rooms of those unjust : 
 To guide the Island People, and defend ! 
 
 Ancients of the S. Band. We, Britain, fallen on many 
 evil days ; 
 Since when the Sacred Vanguard is passed forth ; 
 Stand on Her hills, as watchmen in the Night- 
 Time, for this Peoples safeguard. 
 People. Hearken ! First, must, 
 
 We say; THE Bread of England be made sure. 
 Fathers. Breathe Heaven a Spirit of Concord, in all hearts ! 
 People. That may re-establish Britains commonwealth. 
 * * * 
 
 Fainted my heart, and reeled this mortal Sense : 
 And yet methought I heard the Muses breath, 
 Saying Word. She erewhile spake by Colins mouth ; 
 The rest untold, no living tongue can speak ! 
 
WORKS BY CHARLES M. DOUGHTY 
 "Wanderings in Arabia 
 
 Two Volumes. Demy Zvo. \os. net 
 
 " One of the greatest travel-books in literature. No book of Arabian travel is 
 comparable with Doughty's in romantic interest. Not since the Elizabethan 
 voyagers has there been any parallel to it. It is a great story, told in a great 
 
 manner, a masterpiece of style and a record of heroic doings The stateliest 
 
 prose of our generation." — Spectator. 
 
 " Good critics and far travellers declare Mr Doughty's ' Arabia ' the noblest 
 travel-book of the East written in modern times." — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 " One of the classics of travel, our chief authority on Arabia, and one of the 
 rare and curious masterpieces of English prose." — Observer. 
 
 " Here is an enduring book. A book of which it is difficult to speak in 
 moderate words. A candour, a vivid simplicity, a powerful directness, as rare as 
 enchanting. Fulness of life is in this book. The record has a singular fascination. 
 There is much we should like to mention, much we should like to quote, but we 
 must urge the reader to get the book." — Academy. 
 
 " Doughty's work is already a classic. The book remains a monument of 
 observation, insight, patience, and sympathy, of an unusual kind." — Nation. 
 
 " Has the wild, fresh vision of an Elizabethan seaman coupled, as it never was 
 before, with the reflective judgment and poet's heart of a man of exquisite culture, 
 breeding, and character. The writing is closely-knit, fine work that cannot be 
 quoted except at length. Its reputation is secure. The humanity of the book 
 alone would place it above any other book of the kind in English ! ''—Morning 
 Post. 
 
 " One of the few great books of travel that have been written in English. An 
 ever-varied, ever-moving narrative. This is surely a book which belongs to the 
 classics of travel literature.'" — Daily News. 
 
 " The most remarkable records of adventure and research. Has about it that 
 fascination which belongs only to the best travel books. More fascinating than 
 romance, Mr Doughty's work is assured of its position in the very front rank." 
 
 Daily Telegraph. 
 
 " A masterpiece of travel. Every page contains vivid pictures. To literature, 
 in the true sense, Mr Doughty's book belongs." — Athenaeum. 
 
 "The most intimately true and penetrating account ever written. It is something 
 more than a description. It is, in its vividness, and truth, and power, an inter- 
 pretation of influences ever present and ever active." — Saturday Review. 
 
WORKS BY CHARLES M. DOUGHTY 
 The Dawn in Britain. An Epic Poem 
 
 Six Vohunes. Crown 8vo. 4.S. 6d. net each 
 
 "This strong, strange poem fulfils aspirations Heroic duels, closely 
 
 modelled on Homeric fights ; bits of Pagan mythology, like Woden's visit to the 
 abode of Hel ; Brennus's passage of the Alps ; the song of Sigor, which we should 
 have liked to quote in full as a proof of Mr Doughty's handling of idyllic 
 
 themes This is no ordinary poem, such as minor bards with a cultivated taste 
 
 and select vocabulary could write. It is work of an altogether higher order. It 
 may be its subject and manner will narrow the circle of its admirers in an age that 
 is quick to protest that it has no leisure for epics ; but the fit and few will give 
 thanks for a poet." — Times Liter aiy Supplement. 
 
 "We congratulate Mr Doughty on the publication of the concluding volumes 
 of his great epic. It is conceived and executed on the heroic scale, and the reader 
 will be rewarded by the true epic vision and many passages of noble poetry." 
 
 Spectator. 
 
 " It is marked by historical and poetical imagination of a very high order. No 
 reader could escape from a sense of kinship with the ancient Britons while the 
 book is in his hands. The verbal style of the poem, its subject, its development, 
 its rugged and telling imagery, are all not only of equal originality, but seem so 
 perfectly adapted one to another. The cumulative effect is haunting." — Academy. 
 
 ' ' We admire its strength and scope. Mr Doughty uses his strength like a giant. 
 Always, in the very wildest passage, the great personality is behind the song. 
 His strength of eye, his vigorous intellect, his fierce sincerity are great poetical 
 qualities. And he has passages of tenderness to match his passages of bloodshed." 
 
 Daily News. 
 
 "There is a grandeur in 'The Dawn in Britain' which endows it with the 
 true atmosphere of epic. The actuality of the scenes, the barbaric force of the 
 battle-pictures, the strange atmosphere of the primitive landscape of forest, fen and 
 marsh, is interpreted by a Muse richly romantic in feeling, extremely real in aim 
 and method. Mr Doughty, we believe, will take his place ultimately among 
 English classics. In wildness of romantic beauty and strange originality it would 
 
 be impossible to match the story of Cloten and Esla 'The Dawn in Britain' 
 
 is a great poetic storehouse of the history, fact, legend, romance and lore of the 
 Keltic peoples." — Satiifday Review. 
 
 "An amazing epic. He has gifts of imagination and descriptive power in no 
 ordinary degree." — Bookman. 
 
 " The poem is full of vivid imagination. The vital excellence of this epic is 
 the total absence of poetic lumber. The author is strongly seized by the grandeur 
 of his theme, its continually recurring beauties, and he has a remarkable power of 
 bringing the genuine freshness of the morning into his pictures of Britain's dawn." 
 
 Outlook. 
 
 "He stands where Chaucer and Spenser stood. The very language seems the 
 fittest medium for the thought. We lay down the book with taste uncloyed, with 
 memories enriched by many a record of gallant if unavailing fight, with passages 
 of singular beauty, of noble thought couched in impressive phrase. We gladly 
 pay tribute to the imaginative power and the inspiration and to the high ideal 
 
 which has led the poet Described with an energy which never seems to 
 
 slacken a noble pathos and simplicity which are beyond praise." 
 
 Glasgow Herald. 
 
WORKS BY CHARLES M. DOUGHTY 
 The Cliffs. A Poetic Drama 
 
 Cro7i.in Zvo. t^s. net 
 
 "Tliose who know Mr Doughty's former work will know what to expect in 
 this one. Whatever he says he says directly and like a poet. Those who read 
 this work will be confirmed in their belief, if they are judges of poetry, that 
 Mr Doughty is a fine poet." — Times Literary Supplement. 
 
 "Mr Doughty is a poet. His poetic instinct is apparent in every line. As an 
 extremely clever piece of writing his drama should certainly not be missed."' 
 
 Birmingham Post. 
 
 " Beautiful passages of description, of swift narrative, of soliloquy, of panegyric. 
 There is dignity in every line that Mr Doughty writes, and often much more than 
 dignity. Very beautiful is the fantastic play among the elves ; the dialogue sustains 
 the quaint atmosphere of a Midsummer Night's Dream. In this strangely conceived 
 work the reader will find much that is exhilarating in its directness and refreshing 
 in its virility." — Daily News. 
 
 "As a national alarum, as a piece of writing, as a new, incisive mark on 
 conteinporaiy literature, Mr Doughty's work is equally arresting. It is heaped up 
 and running over with incidents, characters, and situations. It is, in a sense, 
 outside the sphere of criticism. It is England's reveille, sounded by one of the 
 most ardent and gifted of her sons. 
 
 "Mr Doughty's style, as it grows more familiar, grows ever more fascinating. 
 It is richly original. And it is no exaggeration to repeat that his elves and gnomes 
 spin Part II into the most delicious fantasy that has enriched poetry since the day 
 of William Shakespeare. Their speech and tricksiness, the reality and mastery of 
 this scene, are beyond all description." — Westminster Gazette. 
 
 " He has made a beautiful poem. It is a genuine creation of the imagination. 
 Indubitably fine ; broad, simple and individual. Men, elves, flowers, all are 
 touched to life by Mr Doughty's poetry, by the truth of his feeling, the fitness of 
 his language, the perfection of his style. Wonderfully vigorous and pungent and 
 full of satiric power. There is also more verbal felicity of phrase. Above all, the 
 poem confirms our opinion that Mr Doughty's poetry is not skin-deep, no mere 
 accomplishment, but a noble exercise of the man's whole nature. Such poetry is 
 not to be found elsewhere in England to-day." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 "Mr Charles M. Doughty is now fairly well known. 'Travels in Arabia" has 
 been praised on every hand, and is for richness of matter and beauty of treatment 
 unequalled by any book of travel in the English language. His poems have 
 received the praise which marks them as exceptional work. 
 
 "'The Dawn in Britain ' is a blank verse epic in which are combined elements 
 from Geoffrey of Monmouth, the Roman historians, legend, and archaeology, so 
 as to make a poem full of national dignity and exquisite human and natural 
 beauty. 
 
 "'Adam Cast Forth' was a narrative in dramatic form. For an English 
 parallel to the effect of this poem we have to search among the best of Blake's 
 illustrations to the Book of Job. 
 
 "All Mr Doughty's work gives us a sense of a foundation of learning, tradition, 
 and temperament of quite extraordinary solidity and steadfastness. 
 
 " The test of a style is its expressiveness and its whole effect. Mr Doughty's 
 expresses a beauty of thought, of human life, and of Nature which is his own. 
 Mr Doughty is a master of language. He gets the utmost value of every word. 
 
 " 'The Cliffs ' is in some ways the most remarkable triumph of his style. The 
 
 minor beauties are many and exquisite ; the chief human figures are very clear ; 
 
 the two supernatural parts are of an invulnerable beauty. These elves are of the 
 same race as Shakespeare's and Drayton"s. The description of the Elf wedding is 
 one of the best things Mr Doughty has ever done. The book would be famous if 
 it contained nothing else." — Morning Post. 
 
WORKS BY CHARLES M. DOUGHTY 
 Adam Cast Forth 
 
 Crown Sw. 4jr. bd. net 
 
 "Mr Doughty is the possessor of sheer genius. 'Adam Cast Forth' exhibits 
 him as an indubitable poet. It will leave an inefifaceable impression. A great 
 achievement." — Birmingham Post. 
 
 "A notable drama. The might and importance of Mr Doughty's 'Adam 
 Cast Forth' are not to be summed up in a catch-word." — Liverpool Courier. 
 
 "Mr Doughty keeps burning the sacred lamp of pure poetry; and his fine 
 imagery and metaphor give richness to his lines." — Globe. 
 
 "It is a bold task Mr Doughty has attempted. There is reverence and piety 
 in every page. The things of Earth and of Heaven mingle together just as they 
 do in the Bible and in Homer. It is a fine work, coming from a great store of fine 
 and strong feeling." — Daily Neivs. 
 
 "A splendid achievement. It is a piece of absolute creation. The figures live 
 as do the figures in a folk-story, or in the book of Job. Nor is there any false 
 simplicity, any more than there is mere archaism in Mr Doughty's style, for the 
 simplicity, the primitiveness, are in answer to a need of our day ; they are of our 
 time, perhaps for all time, for the intensity of the poet's sincerity is incomparable." 
 
 Bookman. 
 
 "It is a joy for a reviewer to discover a book which he feels is, ultimately, past 
 description as it is past mere praise. We know not how to describe the grave 
 beauty, the strangeness, the fulness of this echoing poem. No one but Mr Doughty 
 could have written it. His vocabulary is rich and recondite, his rhythms buoyant 
 and sweet. His wonderful 'Wanderings in Arabia' affords a memorable example 
 of a fine harmony of prose. Yet more lofty, and individual, is the verse in this 
 volume than the prose of those travels. How fit and cherishable it is. This verse 
 has the sound of the great Biblical tongue — its musing gravity, its solemn clearness, 
 its deep sincerity. We do not want to depreciate the talents of other poets, but — 
 if we may l)e permitted to say it — we are thankful the theme has escaped them and 
 become the secure inspiration of Mr Doughty. For he has treated it with the 
 austerity, the simplicity, the weighty grandeur of sincerity, which alone justify any 
 
 man in his choice of it From these extracts will be seen the singular strength 
 
 and sweetness which Mr Doughty seems to have at command. Here is music of 
 a master." — Academy. 
 
 "Dialogues of indescribable tenderness and nobility. As in the 'Dawn in 
 Britain' Mr Doughty creates natural luxuriance and beauty on the one hand, 
 subUmity and terror on the other, with equal mastery. The whole book brings 
 before the mind, by means of precision of detail and a suffusion of romance, entirely 
 new scenes of human joy and pathos, and beauty and sublimity in earth and sky. 
 The naturalness is lovely in itself; yet is so used that it subsides to its true place in 
 the rich and imaginative whole, after a manner for which few precedents will be 
 found outside Spenser. The order of beauty is so rare and so intense. There are 
 passages to which we shall turn again and again as examples of the ' best words in 
 the best order' which make fine poetry; and to many others for sheer beauty of 
 style, such as we go for to Spenser and Shelley. The thrilling delicacy and awe 
 of the scenes and actions described are matched by the language and structure of a 
 master, and they make a splendid whole.'" — Saturday Review. 
 
 "A poem whose quality is undeniable, and yet hard to define. Spacious 
 imaginings, passages of simple human beauty. We had expected magnificence 
 from Mr Doughty but we do not know that his moments of tenderness are not 
 more impressive than his heroics. He has written a noble poem." — Spectator. 
 
A SELECTION FROM 
 DUCKWORTH ^ CO.'S 
 LIST OF PUBLICATIONS 
 
 ARRANGED UNDER AUTHORS' NAMES 
 OR TITLES OF SERIES 
 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN 
 LONDON, W.C. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Amelung, VValther, and Holtzinger, Heinrich, The 
 Museums and Ruins of Rome. A Guide Book. Edited 
 by Mrs S. Arthur Strong, LL.D. With 264 illustrations 
 and map and plans. 2 vols. New and cheaper re-issue. 
 Fcap "ivo. 5x. net. 
 
 ANIMAL LIFE AND WILD NATURE 
 (STORIES OF). 
 
 Ufiiform binding, large cr. 2>vo. 6s. net. 
 
 Under the Roof of the Jungle. A Book of Animal Life 
 in the Guiana Wilds. Written and illustrated by Charles 
 Livingston Bull. With 60 full-page plates drawn from 
 Life by the Author. 
 
 Earth's Enigmas. Stories of Animal Life. By Charles 
 G. D. Roberts, Professor of Literature, Toronto Univer- 
 sity, late Deputy-Keeper of Woods and Forests, Canada. 
 Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. {Cr. 2>vo. 
 55. net.) 
 
 The Kindred of the Wild. A Book of Animal Life. By 
 Charles G. D. Robtrts. With many illustrations by 
 Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 The Watchers of the Trails. A Book of Animal Life. 
 By Charles G. D. Roberts. With 48 illustrations by 
 Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 The Story of Red Fox. A Biography. By Charles G. D. 
 Roberts. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. 
 
 The Haunters of the Silences. A Book of Wild Nature. 
 By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated by Charles 
 liivingston Bull. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 3 
 
 BOOKS ON ART. 
 
 Art — The Library of, embracing Painting, Sculpture, Archi- 
 tecture, etc. Edited by Mrs S. Artiiur Strong, LL.D. 
 Extra cloth, with lettering and design in gold. Large 
 cr. 8vo (7I in. x 5I in.), giVt top, headband. 55-. 7iet a 
 volume. Inland postage, ^d. 
 
 LIST OF VOLUMES 
 DoNATELi.o. By Lord Balcarres, M.P. Wi h 58 plates. 
 Great Masters of Dutch and Flemish Painting. By Dr 
 
 W. Bode. With 48 plates. 
 Rembrandt. ByG. Baldwin Brown, of the University of Edinburgh. 
 
 With 45 plates. 
 Antonio Pollaiuolo. By Maud Cruttwell. With 50 plates. 
 Verrocchio. By Maud Cruttwell. With 48 plates. 
 The Lives of the British Architects. By E. Beresford 
 
 Chancellor. With 45 plates. 
 The School of Madrid. By A. de Beruete y Moret. With 48 
 
 plates. 
 William Blake. By Basil de Selincourt. With 40 plates. 
 Giotto. By Basil de Selincourt. With 44 plates. 
 French Painting in the Sixteenth Century. By L. Dimier. 
 
 With 50 plates. 
 The School of Ferrara. By Edmund G. Gardner. With 50 plates. 
 Six Greek Sculptors. {Myron, Pheidias, Polykleitos, Skopas, 
 
 Praxiteles, and Lysippos.) By Ernest Gardner. With 81 plates. 
 Titian. By Dr Georg Gronau. With 54 plates. 
 Constable. By M. Sturge Henderson. With 48 plates. 
 Pisanello. By G. F. Hill. With 50 plates. 
 Michael Angelo. By Sir Charles Holroyd. With 52 plates. 
 Medi/EVAL Art. By W. R. Lethaby. With 66 plates and 120 
 
 drawings in the text. 
 The Scottish School of Painting. By William D. McKay, 
 
 R.S.A. With 46 plates. 
 Christopher Wren. By Lena Milman. With upwards of 60 
 
 plates. 
 Correggio. By T. Sturge Moore. With 55 plates. 
 Albert Durer. By T. Sturge Moore. With 4 copperplates and 50 
 
 half-tone engravings. 
 Sir William Bkechey, R. A. By W. Roberts. With 49 plates. 
 The School of Seville. By N. Sentenach. With 50 plates. 
 Roman Sculpture from Augustus to Constantine. By Mrs 
 
 S. Arthur Strong, LL.D., Editor of the Series. 2 vols. With 
 
 130 plates. 
 a* 
 
4 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Art, The Popular Library of. Pocket volumes of biogra- 
 phical and critical value on the great painters, with very 
 many reproductions of the artists' works. Each volume 
 averages 200 pages, i6mo, with from 40 to 50 illustrations. 
 To be had in different styles of binding : Boards gilt, \s. 
 net ; green canvas and red cloth gilt, 2s. net \ limp lamb- 
 skin, red and green, 2s. 6d. net. Several titles can also 
 be had in the popular Persian yapp binding, in box. 
 2S. 6d. net each. 
 
 LIST OF VOLUMES. 
 
 Botticelli. By Julia Cartwright (Mrs Ady). Also in Persian yapp 
 • binding. 
 Raphael. By Julia Cartwright (Mrs Ady). Also in Persian yapp 
 
 binding. 
 Frederick Walker. By Clementina Black. 
 Rembrandt. By Auguste Breal. 
 Velazquez. By Auguste Breal. 
 Gainsborough. By Arthur B. Chamberlain. 
 Cruikshank. By W. H. Chesson. 
 Blake. By G. K. Chesterton. 
 
 G. F. Watts. By G. K. Chesterton. Also in Persian yapp binding. 
 Albrecht DiJRER, By Lina Eckenstein. 
 The English Water-Colour Painters. By A. J. Finberg. Also 
 
 in Persian yapp binding. 
 Hogarth. By Edward Garnett. 
 Leonardo da Vinci. By Dr Georg Gronau. 
 Holbein. By Ford Madox Hueffer. 
 
 ROSSETTI. By Ford Madox Hueffer. Also in Persian yapp binding. 
 The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. By Ford Madox Hueffer. 
 Perugino. By Edward Hutton. 
 Millet. By Romain Rolland. 
 Watteau. By Camille Mauclair. 
 The French Impressionists. By Camille Mauclair. 
 Whistler. By Bemhard Sickert. Also in Persian yapp binding. 
 
 Burns, Rev. J. Sermons in Art by the Great Masters. 
 Cloth gilt, photogravure frontispiece and many illustra- 
 tions. Cr. S,vo. 6s. Or bound in parchment, 55^. net. 
 
 The Christ Face in Art. With 60 illustrations in tint. 
 
 Cr. 8vo, cloth gilt. ds. Or bound in parchment, 5^. net. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 5 
 
 BussY, Dorothy. Eugene Delacroix. A Critical Apprecia- 
 tion. With 26 illustrations. New and cheaper re-issue. 
 Cr. 8vo. 2S. 6d. net. 
 
 Carotti, Giulio. a History of Art. English edition, 
 edited by Mrs S. Arthur Strong, LL.D. In four 
 volumes, with very numerous illustrations in each volume. 
 Small cr. 2,vo. ^s. net each volume. 
 
 Vol. I. — Ancient Art. 500 illustrations. 
 
 Vol. II. — Middle Ages down to the Golden Age. 
 
 Vol. III. — The Golden Age. \In preparation. 
 
 Vol. IV,— Modern Times. 
 
 LowY, Emanuel. The Rendering of Nature in Early Greek 
 Art. With 30 illustrations. Cr. ?>vo. ^s. net. 
 
 Mauclair, Camille. Auguste Rodin. With very many 
 illustrations and photogravure frontispiece. Small /[to. 
 New and cheaper re-issue, ^s. 6d. net. 
 
 See also Popular Library of Art for other books by Camille Mauclair. 
 
 AsPiNALL, Algernon E. The Pocket Guide to the West 
 Indies. A New and Revised Edition, with maps, very 
 fully illustrated. Fcap. Svo. 55. fzet. 
 
 Austin, Sarah. The Story without an End. From the 
 German of Carove. With illustrations by Paul Henry. 
 Sq. fcap. Zvo. \s. 6d. net. 
 
 Belloc, Hilaire. Verses. Large cr. "^vo. 2nd edition. 
 5J. net. 
 
 ■ and B. T. B. The Bad Child's Book of Beasts. New 
 
 edition. 25th thousand. Sq. 4to. is. net. 
 
 and B. T. B. More Beasts for Worse Children. New 
 
 edition. .5"^. 4/1?. is. net. 
 
 See also Readers'' Library and Shilling- Series for other books by H. Belloi. 
 
 BiRON, H. C. " Sir," Said Dr Johnson. Selections from 
 Boswell's " Life of Johnson," arranged under compre- 
 hensive headings. Demy ^vo. 6s. net. 
 
6 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Bourne, George. Change in the Village : A study of the 
 country village of to-day. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 See the Readers' Library for other books by George Bourne. 
 
 Brooke, Stopford A. The Onward Cry : Essays and 
 Sermons. Large cr. Svo, with photogravure frontispiece. 
 6^. nel 
 
 See also the Readers' Library and Roadmender Series for other 
 books by Stopford Brooke. 
 
 Chapman, Hugh B., Chaplain of the Savoy. At the Back 
 of Things : Essays and Addresses. Cr. Svo. 55. net. 
 
 Collier, Price. England and the English, from an Ameri- 
 can point of view. Demy Svo. "js. 6d. net. Also a 
 popular edition, with Foreword by Lord Rosebery. 
 J^cap. Svo. 2S. 6d. net. 
 
 The West in the East : A study of British Rule in India. 
 
 Demy Svo. -js. 6d. net. 
 
 Coui/roN, G. G. From St Francis to Dante. A Historical 
 Sketch. Second edition. Dewy Svo. i 2s. bd. net. 
 
 Duckworth's " Crown " Library. Demy Svo, cloth gilt, 
 gilt top. ^s. net a volume. 
 
 The Ruba'iyat of 'Umar Khayyam (Fitzgerald's Edition). Edited, 
 
 with an Introduction and Notes, by Edward Heron Allen. 
 Science and Religion in Contemporary Philosophy. By 
 
 Emile Boutroux. 
 FOLK-LoRE of the IIoly Land : Moslem, Christian, and Jewish. 
 
 By J. E. Hanauer. Edited by Marmaduke Pickthall. 
 The Note-Books of Leonardo da Vincl Edited by Edward 
 
 McCurdy. With 14 illustrations. 
 The Life and Letters of Leslie Stephen, By F. W. Maitland. 
 
 With a photogravure portrait. 
 The Country Month by Month. By J. A. Owen and G. S. 
 
 Boulger. With 20 illustrations. 
 Spinoza: His Life and Philosophy. By Sir Frederick Pollock. 
 The English Utilitarians. By Sir Leslie Stephen. 3 vols. 
 Critical Studies. By S. Arthur Strong. With Memoir by Lord 
 
 Balcarres, M.P. Illustrated. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 7 
 
 Darwin, Bernard, and Rountree, Harry. The Golf 
 Courses of the British Isles. 48 illustrations in colour 
 and 16 in sepia. S^. roya/ 8vo. 21s. net. 
 
 De la Mare, Walter. The Three MuUa Mulgars. A 
 Romance of the Great Forests. With illustrations in 
 colour. Cr. 8vo. 55-. net. 
 
 Doughty, Chas. M. Adam Cast Forth. A Poem founded 
 on a Judaeo- Arabian Legend of Adam and Eve. Cr. Svo. 
 4s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Cliffs. A Poetic Drama of the Invasion of Britain 
 
 in 19 — . Cr. 8?.v?. 5^-. net. 
 
 The Dawn in Britain. An Epic Poem of the Beginnings 
 
 of Britain. In six vols. Vols, i and 2, gs. net; Vols. 3 
 and 4, 9^. net; Vols. 5 and 6, 95'. net. The Set, 275-. net. 
 
 Wanderings in Arabia. An abridged edition of "Travels 
 
 in Arabia Deserta." New and cheaper re-issue. With 
 portrait and map. In i vol. Royal Svo. 7s. 6d. net. 
 
 Falconer, Rev. Hugh. The Unfinished Symphony. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Flaubert, Gustave. The First Temptation of St Anthony. 
 A new translation by R. Francis. A fine edition on 
 imit. hd.-made paper. Large cr. Svo. "js. 6d. net. 
 
 Graham, R, B. Cunninghame. Charity. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Faith. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Hope. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 His People. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 See also Readers^ Library and Shilling Series for other hooks by 
 Cunninghame Graham. 
 
 Hamilton, Allan McLane. The Intimate Life of Alex 
 ander Hamilton. Illustrated. Demy Svo. \6s. net. 
 
 Haselfoot, F. K. H. The Divina Commedia of Dante 
 Alighieri. Translated line for line in the terza rima of 
 the original, with Introduction and Notes. Second 
 edition, revised, corrected, and further annotated. Demy 
 Svo. \2S. net. 
 
8 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Headlam, Cecil. Walter Headlam : Letters and Poems. 
 With Memoir by Cecil Headlam. With photogravure 
 portrait. Demy Zvo. "]$. 6d. net. 
 
 Henderson, Archibald. Mark Twain. A Biography. 
 With 8 photographs by Alvin Langdon Coburn. Large 
 cr. Svo. ^s. net. 
 
 Interpreters of Life and the Modern Spirit : Critical 
 
 Essays. With a photogravure portrait of Meredith. Cr. 
 Zvo. Si', fiet. 
 
 Hill, M. D., and Webb, Wilfred Mark. Eton Nature- 
 Study and Observational Lessons. With numerous 
 illustrations. In two parts, y. 6d. net each. Also the 
 two parts in one volume, 65-. 7iet. 
 
 Hammond, Rev. Joseph. Six Necessary Things for Chris- 
 tians to Know. A Theology for the Plain Man. Cr. 
 2>vo. 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Hudson, W. H. A Little Boy Lost. With 30 illustrations 
 by A. D. McCormick. Sq. cr. %vo. y. 6d. net. 
 
 See also Readers' Libraiy and Shilling Series for other books by 
 W. H. Hudson. 
 
 HuEFFER, Ford Madox. The Critical Attitude. Literary 
 Essays. Sq. cr. 8vo. Buckram. 5X. net. 
 
 See also Readers' Library and The Popular Library of Art for other 
 books by Ford Madox Hueffer. 
 
 Hughes, Rev. G. Conscience and Criticism. With Fore- 
 word by the Bishop of Winchester. Cr. 8vo. ^s. net. 
 
 Hutchinson, T. Lyrical Ballads by William Wordsworth 
 and S. T. Coleridge, 1798. With certain poems of 1798, 
 Introduction and Notes. jFca/>. 8vo. New and Revised 
 Edition. With 2 photogravures. 3^'. 6d. net. 
 
 JouBERT, Joseph. Joubert : A Selection from His Thoughts. 
 Translated by Katharine Lyttleton, with a Preface by 
 Mrs Humphry Ward. Cr. 8vo. <^s. net. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 9 
 
 Kropotkin, Prince. Ideals and Realities in Russian 
 Literature. Critical Essays. By Prince Kropotkin. 
 Demy ?>vo. is. 6d. net. 
 
 Langlois, Ch. v., and Seignohos, Ch. An Introduction to 
 the Study of History. La?'ge cr. %vo. js. 6d. 
 
 Le Gallienne, Richard. Odes from the Divan of Hafiz. 
 Freely rendered from Literal Translations. Large sq. 8w. 
 In slip case. ^s. dd. net. 
 
 Leighton, Gerald. The Greatest Life. Cr. Zvo. 55-. net. 
 
 Lethaby, W. R. Westminster Abbey and the King's Crafts- 
 men. With 125 illustrations, photogravure frontispiece, 
 and many drawings and diagrams. Royal Zvo. \2S. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 Westminster Abbey as a Coronation Church. Illus- 
 trated. Demy 2>vo. 2s. 6d. net. 
 See also The Library of Art for " Mediaval Art " by W. R. Lethaby. 
 
 Loveland, J. D. E. The Romance of Nice. A Descriptive 
 Account of Nice and its History. With illustrations. 
 Demy 8vo. 6s. net. 
 
 Lytton, the Hon. Mrs Neville. Toy Dogs and their 
 Ancestors. With 300 illustrations in colour collotype, 
 photogravure, and half-tone. Ofto. 30^. 7iet. 
 
 Mahaffy, R. p. Francis Joseph the First : His Life and 
 Times. By R. P. Mahaffy. C?-own Svo. 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Mahommed, Mirza, and Rice, C. Spring. Valeh and 
 Hadijeh. Large sq. Zvo. ^s. net. 
 
 Mantzius, Karl. A History of Theatrical Art in Ancient 
 and Modern Times. With Introduction by William 
 Archer. In six volumes. With illustrations from photo- 
 graphs. Royal "^vo. \cs. net each vol. 
 
 Vol. I.— The Earliest Times. Vol. II.— Middle Ages and Renais- 
 sance. Vol. III. — Shakespeare and the English Drama of his 
 Time. Vol. IV.— Moliere and his Time. Vol. V.— Great 
 Actors of the l8th Century. Vol. VI. — In preparation. 
 
lo DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Marczali, Henry. The Letters and Journal, 1848-49, of 
 Count Charles Leiningen-Westerburg. Demy Zvo. 75. dd. 
 net. 
 
 Marjoram, John. New Poems. Fcap. 2:vo. 2s. net. 
 
 Moore, T. Sturge. Poems. Square 8w. Sewed, u. nei 
 a volume. 
 
 The Centaur's Booty. 
 
 The Rout of the Amazons. 
 
 The Gazelles, and Other Poems. 
 
 Pan's Prophecy. 
 
 To Leda, and Other Odes. 
 
 Theseus, and Other Odes. 
 
 Or, in one volume, bound in art linen. 6s. nei. 
 See also Modern Plays for other books by Sturge Moore. 
 
 Nassau, R. H. Fetichism in West Africa : Forty Years' 
 Observations of Native Customs and Superstitions. 1 2 
 illustrations. Demy Svo. js. 6d. net. 
 
 Nevill, Ralph, and Jerningham, C. E. Piccadilly to 
 Pall Mall. Manners, Morals, and Man. With 2 photo- 
 gravures. Demy Svo. 1 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Nevill, Ralph. Sporting Days and Sporting Ways. With 
 coloured frontispiece. Demy Svo. 12s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Merry Past. Reminiscences and Anecdotes. 
 
 With frontispiece in colour collotype. Demy Svo. 
 1 25. 6d. net. 
 
 Pawlowska, Yoi (Mrs Buckley). A Year of Strangers. 
 Sketches of People and Things in Italy and in the Far 
 East. With copper-plate frontispiece. Demy Svo. 55. 
 net, 
 
 Peake, Prof A. S. Christianity, its Nature and its Truth. 
 2 5^'/^ Thousand. Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Phillipps, L. March. The Works of Man. Studies of 
 race characteristics as revealed in the creative art of the 
 world. Cr. Svo. 'js. dd. net. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS ii 
 
 Plays, Modern. Cloth. 2s. net a volume. 
 
 Thk Revolt and the Escapi:. By Villiers de LTsle Adam. 
 
 Tristram and Iseult. A Drama. By J. Comyns Carr. 
 
 The Silver Box. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Joy. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Strife. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Justice. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 The Eldest Son. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 The Little Dream. By John Galsworthy. {\s. 6d. net.) 
 
 The Pigeon. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 The Breaking Point : a Censured Play. By Edward (".arnetl. 
 
 The Coming of Peace. By Gerhart Hauptmann. 
 
 Mariamne. a Drama. By T. Sturge Moore. 
 
 A Sicilian Idyll, and Judith. By T. Sturge Moore. 
 
 The Storm. By Ostrovsky. Translated by Constance Garnett. 
 
 The Father. By August Strindberg. 
 
 The Dawn (Les Aubes). By Emile Verhaeren. 
 
 The Princess of Hanover. By Margaret L, Woods. 
 
 The following may also be had in paper covers. Price 
 \s. 6d. net a volume. 
 
 Tristram and Iseult. By J. Comyns Carr. (Paper boards.) 
 
 The Silver Box. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Joy. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Strife. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Justice. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 The Eldest Son. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 The Little Dream. By John Galsworthy, (is. net.) 
 
 The Pigeon. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Plays (Volume One). By John Galsworthy. Three Plays 
 (Joy, Strife, The Silver Box) in one vol. Small sq. post 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Plays (Volume Two). By John Galsworthy. Three Plays 
 (Justice, The Little Dream, The Eldest Son) in one 
 vol. Small sq. post Svo. 6s. 
 
 Three Plays. By Mrs W. K, Clifford. (Hamilton's Second 
 Marriage, Thomas and the Princess, The Modern Way.) 
 In one vol. Sq. post Svo. 6s. 
 
12 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 READERS' LIBRARY, THE. 
 
 Copyright Works of Individual Merit and Permanent Value 
 by Authors of Repute. 
 
 Library style. 
 
 Cr. %vo. Blue cloth gilt, round backs. 
 25. dd. net a volume. 
 
 AVRIL. By Hilaire Belloc. Essays 
 on the Poetry of the French 
 Renaissance. 
 
 EsTO Perpetua. By Hilaire Bel- 
 loc. Algerian Studies and Im- 
 pressions. 
 
 Obiter Dicta. By Augustine 
 Birrell. First and Second Series 
 in one volume. 
 
 Memoirs of a Surrey 
 Labourer. By George Bourne. 
 
 The Bettesworth Book. By 
 George Bourne. 
 
 Studies in Poetry. By Stopford 
 A. Brooke, LL.D. Essays on 
 Blake, Scott, Shelley, Keats, etc. 
 
 Comparative Studies in Nur- 
 sery Rhymes. By Lina Ecken- 
 stein. Essays in a branch of 
 Folk-lore. 
 
 Itai.ian Poets since Dante. 
 Critical Essays. By W. Everett. 
 
 Villa Rubein, and Other 
 Stories. By John Galsworthy. 
 
 Progress, and Other Sketches. 
 By R. B. Cunninghame Graham. 
 
 Green Mansions. A Romance 
 of the Tropical Forest. By W. H. 
 Hudson. 
 
 The Purple Land. By W. H. 
 Hudson. 
 
 The Heart of the Country. 
 By P^ord Madox Huefifer. 
 
 The Soul of London. By Ford 
 Madox Hueffer. 
 
 The Spirit of the People. By 
 
 Ford Madox Hueffer. 
 After London — Wild Eng- 
 land. By Richard Jefferies. 
 Amaryllis at the Fair. By 
 
 Richard Jefferies. 
 Bevis. The Story of a Boy. By 
 
 Richard Jefferies. 
 The Hills and the Vale. 
 
 Nature Essays. By Richard 
 
 Jefferies. 
 St Augustine and his Age. 
 
 An Interpretation. By Joseph 
 
 McCabe. 
 Between the Acts. By H. W. 
 
 Nevinson. 
 Essays in Freedom. By H. W. 
 
 Nevinson. 
 The Strenuous Life, andOther 
 
 Essays. By Theodore Roosevelt. 
 English Literature and 
 
 Society in the Eighteenth 
 
 Century. By Sir Leslie 
 
 Stephen. 
 Studies of a Biographer. First 
 
 Series. Two Volumes. By Sir 
 
 Leslie Stephen. 
 Studies of a Biographer. 
 
 Second Series. Two Volumes. 
 
 By Sir Leslie Stephen. 
 Interludes. By Sir Geo. Tre- 
 
 velyan. 
 Essays on Dante. By Dr Carl 
 
 Witte. 
 
 " Messrs Duckworth's admirable Readers' Library." — Bookman. 
 
 " A series which is well worth following. Excellent reading." — AthencFum. 
 
 " That excellent series. The work of some of our most distinguished contemporaries." 
 — Daily News. 
 
 " In a class apart from cheap reprints ... as enjoyable to the most fastidious as first 
 editions." — Tie Manckester Guardian. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 13 
 
 Reid, Stuart J. Sir Richard Tangye. A Life. With a 
 portrait. New and Cheaper re-issue. Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 7iet. 
 
 RoADMENDER SERIES, The. The volumes in the series are 
 works with the same tendency as Michael Fairless's 
 remarkable book, from which the series gets its name : 
 books which express a deep feeling for Nature, and a 
 mystical interpretation of life. Fcap. 2>vo, with designed 
 end papers. 2s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Sea Charm of Venice. By Stopford A. Brooke. 
 
 Magic Casements. By Arthur S. Cripps. 
 
 The Roadmender. By Michael Fairless. Also in limp lambskin, 
 35. (}d. Velvet calf yapp, ^s. net. Illustrated Black and White 
 Edition, cr. 'ivo, 5^. net. Also Special Illustrated edition in 
 colour from oil paintings by E. W. Waite, 7^-. 6a'. iiet. Edition de 
 Luxe, 15J. net. 
 
 The Grey Brethren. By Michael Fairless. Limp lambskin, 
 35. dd. net. 
 
 A Modern Mystic's Way. (Dedicated to Michael Fairless.) 
 
 Thoughts of Leonardo da Vinci. Selected by Edward McCurdy. 
 
 Longings. By W. D. McKay. 
 
 From the Forest. By Wm. Scott Palmer. 
 
 Pilgrim Man. By Wm. Scott Palmer. 
 
 VagrOxM Men. By A. T. Story. 
 
 Light and Twilight. By Edward Thomas. 
 
 Rest and Unrest. By Edward Thomas. 
 
 Rose Acre Papers : including Horre Solitarise. By Edward Thomas- 
 
 RoLLESTON, T. W. Parallel Paths. A Study of Biology, 
 Ethics, and Art. Cr. 8vo. ^s. 7iet. 
 
 Rosen, Erwin. In the Foreign Legion. A record of actual 
 experiences in the French Foreign Legion. Demy Svo. 
 New and Cheaper Edition. 35-. 6d. net. 
 
 Social Questions Series. 
 
 Makers of Our Clothes. A Case for Trade Boards. By Miss 
 Clementina Black and Lady Carl Meyer. Demy %vo. 5j. net. 
 
 Sweated Industry and the Minimum Wage. By Clementina 
 Black. With Preface by A. G. Gardiner. Cloth, crown Svo. 
 2s. net. 
 
 Women in Industry : From Seven Points of View. With 
 Introduction by D. J- Shackleton. C/otli, craivn Zvo. 2s. net. 
 
 The Worker's Handbook. By Gertrude M. Tuckwell. A hand- 
 book of legal and general information for the Clergy, for District 
 Visitors, and all Social Workers. Cr. Svo. 2s. net. 
 
14 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Saints, The. An entirely New Series of Lives of the Saints, 
 in separate volumes. Cr. 8w, scarlet art vellum, gilt 
 lettered, gilt top. 2S. dd. net each volume. 
 
 S. Ambrose. By the Due de Broglie. 
 
 S. Antony of Padua. By the Abbe Albert Lepitre. 
 
 S. Augustine. By Prof. Ad. Hatzfeld. 
 
 S. Cajetan. By R. de Maulde la Claviere. 
 
 S. Chrysostom. By Aime Puech. 
 
 S. Clotilda. By Prof. G. Kurth. 
 
 S. Dominic. By Jean Guiraud. 
 
 S. Francis of Sales. By A. D. Margerie. 
 
 S. Ignatius of Loyola. By Henri Joly. 
 
 S. Jerome. By the Rev. Father Largent. 
 
 S. Joan of Arc. By L. Petit de Julleville. 
 
 S. John Vianney : Cure d'Ars. By Joseph Vianney. 
 
 S. Louis. By Marius Sepet. 
 
 S. Mary the Virgin. By Rene Marie de la Broise. 
 
 S. Nicholas L By Jules Roy. 
 
 S. Patrick. By I'Abbe Riguet. 
 
 S. Peter Fourier. By L. Pingaud. 
 
 S. Teresa. By Henri Joly. 
 
 S. Thomas a Becket. By Mgr. Demimuid. 
 
 S. Thomas More. By Henri Bremond. 
 
 S. Vincent de Paul. By Prince Emmanuel de Broglie. 
 
 The Psychology of the Saints. By Henri Joly. 
 
 Duckworth's Shilling Net Series. Cloth, cr. Zvo. 
 
 Caliban's Guide to Letters. By Hilaire Belloc. 
 South American Sketches. By W. H. Hudson. 
 Stories from De Maupassant. 
 Success. By R. B. Cunninghame Graham. 
 
 Smalley, George W. Anglo-American Memories. With a 
 photogravure frontispiece. Demy Svo. j2s. 6d. net. 
 
 Second Series. Demy Svo. 12s. 6d. net. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 15 
 
 Spielmann, Mrs M. H., and Wilhelm, C. The Child of 
 the Air. A Romantic Fantasy. Illustrated in colour 
 and in line. Sq. cr. Svo. ^s. net. 
 
 Studies in Theology. A New Series of Handbooks, being 
 aids to interpretation in Biblical Criticism for the use of 
 the Clergy, Divinity Students, and Laymen. Cr. ?>vo. 
 2S. 6d. 7iet a volume. 
 
 A Criticai, Introduction to the New Testament. By Arthur 
 Samuel Peake, D.D., Professor of Biblical Exegesis and Dean of 
 the Faculty of Theology, Victoria University, Manchester. 
 
 Faith and its Psychology. By the Rev. William R. Inge, D.D., 
 Dean of St Paul's. 
 
 Philosophy and Religion. By the Rev. Hastings Rashdall, 
 D.Litt. (Oxon.), D.C.L. (Durham), F.B.A., Fellow and Tutor 
 of New College, Oxford. 
 
 Revelation and Inspiration. By the Rev. James Orr, D. D., 
 Professor of Apologetics in the Theological College of the United 
 Free Church, Glasgow. 
 
 Christianity and Social Questions. By the Rev. William 
 Cunningham, D.D., F. B.A. , Archdeacon of Ely. Formerly 
 Lecturer on P2conomic History to Harvard University. 
 
 Protestant Thought before Kant. By A. C. McGiffert, Ph.D., 
 D.D., of the Union Theological Seminary, New York. 
 
 Christian Thought to the Reformation. By Herbert B. Work- 
 man, D.Litt., Principal of the Westminster Training College. 
 
 Protestant Thought since Kant. By Edward Caldwell Moore, 
 D.D. 
 
 The Christian Hoi'e. By W. Adams Brown, D.D. 
 
 Vaughan, Herbert M. The Last Stuart Queen : Louise 
 Countess of Albany. A Life. With illustrations and 
 portraits. De77iy Zvo. i6.f. net. 
 
 Waern, Cecilia. Mediaeval Sicily. Aspects of Life and 
 Art in the Middle Ages. With very many illustrations. 
 Royal ?)V0. \2S. (yd. net. 
 
i6 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 NOVELS AND STORIES . 
 
 Anonymous. The Diary of an English Girl. Cr. 8w. 6j. 
 
 Bone, David W. The Brassbounder. A tale of seamen's 
 life in a sailing ship. With illustrations by the Author. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s 
 
 Bone, Gertrude. Provincial Tales. With frontispiece by 
 Muirhead Bone. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Bone, Muirhead and Gertrude. Children's Children. A 
 Tale. With 60 drawings by Muirhead Bone. Large 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. net. [Vellum Edition, "limited to 250 
 copies, signed and numbered. 255-. «^/.] 
 
 Brookfield, Chas. H. Jack Goldie : the Boy who knew 
 best. Illustrated by A. E. Jackson. Cr. Svo. ^s. 
 
 Brown, Vincent. A Magdalen's Husband. A Novel. 
 Fourth Impression. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 The Dark Ship. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 The Disciple's Wife. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 The Sacred Cup. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Clifford, Mrs W. K. Woodside Farm. A Novel. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Calthrop, Dion Clayton. King Peter. A Novel. With a 
 Frontispiece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 See also DuckworlJis Two Shilling A\'t Novels for another book by 
 Diott Clayton Calthrop. 
 
 Daviks, W. H. Beggars. Personal Experiences of Tramp 
 Life. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A Weak Woman. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 The True Traveller. A Tramp's Experiences. Cr. 
 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 17 
 
 Davis, Richard Harding. Once upon a Time. Stories. 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ■ The Man who could not Lose. Stories. Illustrated. 
 
 Dodge, Janet. Tony Unregenerate. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 
 6s. 
 
 Drake, Maurice. Wrack. A Tale of the Sea Cr. ?>vo. 
 6s. 
 
 East, H. Clayton. The Breath of the Desert. A Novel of 
 Egypt. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Fogazzaro, Antonio. The Poet's Mystery. A Novel. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Forbes, Lady Helen. It's a Way they have in the Army. 
 A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 The Bounty of the Gods. A Novel. 
 
 — The Polar Star. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Garshin, V. The Signal, and other Stories. Translated 
 from the Russian. 
 
 Havter, Adrian. The Profitable Imbroglio. A Tale of 
 Mystery. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Holmes, Arthur H. Twinkle. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Horlick, Jittie. a String of Beads. A Tale. Illustrated 
 in Colour. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Johnson, Cecil Ross. The Trader : A Venture in New 
 Guinea. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Le Sage, A. B. In the West Wind. A Cornish Novel. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Martindale, Elizabeth. Margaret Hever. A Novel. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
1 8 DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Glyn, Elinor. Beyond the Rocks. A Love Story. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 See also Duckworth: s Two Shilling Net Novels. 
 
 His Hour. A Novel. With a photogravure frontis- 
 
 piece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — The Vicissitudes of Evangeline. With Coloured 
 Frontispiece. Cr. Svo, 6s. Also an edition in paper 
 covers. \s. net. 
 
 — - Reflections of Ambrosine. With Coloured Frontis- 
 piece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — Three Weeks. A Romance. With Coloured Frontis- 
 piece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — The Visits of Elizabeth. With Photogravure Frontis- 
 piece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — Elizabeth Visits America. With a Photogravure 
 Frontispiece. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 See also Duckworth! s Two Shilling Net Novels. 
 
 — The Damsel and the Sage : A Woman's Whimsies. 
 Square Svo. '-^s. net. 
 
 Sayings of Grandmamma. From the Writings of 
 
 Elinor Glyn. Fcap. Svo. With Photogravure Portrait. 
 Bound in Persian yapp. 2S. 6d. net. Also in parchment. 
 \s. net. 
 
 The Reason Why. With Frontispiece in Colour. 
 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Gorky, Maxim. The Spy. A Tale. By Maxim Gorky. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Twenty-six Men and a Girl. Stories. Cr. Svo. 
 
 Cloth. 2s. net. 
 
 Maud, Constance Elizabeth. No Surrender. A Novel of 
 the ^Voman's Movement. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
DUCKWORTH & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 19 
 
 Maupassant, Guy de. Yvette, and other Stories. Trans- 
 lated by A. G. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 See also Shilling Net Library for another volume by Maupassant. 
 
 Napier, Rosamond. The Faithful Failure. A Novel of the 
 Open Air. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 The Heart of a Gypsy. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 "Shway Dinga." Wholly without Morals. A Novel of 
 Indo-Burman Life. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 TcHEKHOFF, Anton. The Kiss and other Stories. Cr 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Travers, John. Sahib Log. A Novel of Regimental Life 
 in India. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 In the World of Bewilderment. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Tylee, E. S. The Witch Ladder. A Somerset Story. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Vaughan, Owen (Owen Rhoscomyl). A Scout's Story. A 
 Tale of Adventure. Illustrated. Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 — — Isle Raven. A Novel. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 — Old Fireproof: Being the Chaplain's Story of Certain 
 Events in the South African War. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Sweet Rogues. A Romance. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 See also Duckworth' s Two Shilling Net Novels for another book by 
 Owen Vaughan. 
 
 Duckworth's Series of Popular Novels. 2s. net. 
 The Dance of Love. By Dion Clayton Calthrop. 
 The Infamous John Friend. By Mrs R. S. Garnett. 
 Elizabeth visits America. By Elinor Glyn. 
 The Secret Kingdom. By Frank Richardson. 
 The Prodigal Nephew. By Judson Bolt. 
 Beyond the Rocks. By Elinor Glyn. 
 Vronina. By Owen Vaughan. 
 A Motor-Car Divorce. By Louise Closser Hale. Illustrated 
 
 by Waller Hale. 
 The Bond. A Novel of Matrimony. By Neith Boyce. 
 The Crested Seas. By James B. Conolly. Illustrated. 
 
BOOKS ON APPROVAL 
 
 Messrs DUCKWORTH & CO.'s Publications may be obtained 
 
 through any good bookseller. Anyone desiring to examine a 
 
 volume should order it subject to approval. The bookseller can 
 
 obtain it from the publishers on this condition. 
 
 The following Special Lists and Catalogues will be sejit 
 Post Free on request to any address : — 
 
 A GENERAL CATALOGUE OF PUBLICATIONS 
 
 A COLOURED PROSPECTUS OF NEW ILLUSTRATED 
 
 CHILDREN'S BOOKS 
 A DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF "THE READERS' LIBRARY" 
 A DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF "THE LIBRARY OF ART" 
 
 AND "THE POPULAR LIBRARY OF ART" 
 A DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF "THE CROWN LIBRARY" 
 A DESCRIPTIVE LIST OF "THE SAINTS SERIES" 
 A LIST OF THEOLOGICAL WORKS 
 AND FULL PROSPECTUSES OF "THE ROADMENDER 
 
 SERIES" AND "MODERN PLAYS" 
 
 DUCKWORTH & COMPANY 
 3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON 
 
STAIVIPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. 
 
 ^s^v 
 
 
 ,-- . ^?, 
 
 
 INT^P^l JDn,^... 
 
 
 LHA^I 
 
 
 NOV 1 1978 
 
 
 BELCHL DEC 7 »7a 
 
 
 'r'TL.r-iJ^:":.un 
 
 
 L?.^.H 
 
 
 AHK ly/y 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ?.raci5. jijM 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 LD21-10m-5,'43 (6061s) 
 
CD31fib3E23 
 
 
 261443