THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES t- s LOVE'S LOOKING GLASS LOVE'S LOOKING GLASS A VOLUME OF POEMS LONDON PERCIVAL AND ' i 89 1 HOW "Epws yap apybv kclttI to?j apyoh Hv' 0l\fl K&TOTTTpa. Eurip. Danae, frag. 8. Praeter vero superiores campanulas et alia quaedam humilis et parva est, cui caules tenelli, in alas plures divisi, plurima parte humi decumbentes ; folia parva ; flores parvuli, tintinnabulis aut campanulis similes; radices tenuissimae sunt. Facultatem compertam nullam habet, cum nullius in medicina sit usus. Anonymos nostris est herba ; plerique tamen Specu- lum Amoris vocant. R. Dodonaei Stirpium Historiae Pemptadis Secundae lib. I. cap. xi 818564 Of the poems in this volume, those marked B in the Table of Contents are dy //. C. Beeching, those marked M by J. IV. Mackail, and those marked N by f B. B. Nichols. Some of them hare been a /ready published in a volume by the same authors called Love in Idleness (1883), which is now out of print ; some others have appeared in the Oxford Magazine; the rest arc now printed for the first time. The design on the title-page is adapted from the Hypnerotomacliia. CONTENTS A Dedication, A Summer Day, From the Persian, An lade, To F. A. S., Pyramus, Transcendentalism, . Impression, . Amoret, Morning Music, Mountain Echo, To Comatas Spring in Winter, The Passing of the Year, The Swallow Song, . The Golden Book of Cupid and Psyche, An Etruscan Ring, . Nausicaa, The Return of Ulysses, Kibroth-IIattaavah, . During Music, Moonrise in Pimlico, False Dawn, The Night Watches, Magdalen Gardens, . The Limit of Lands, From Sophocles, PAGE M I B 2 N 3 M 4 M S N 9 M IO N 1 1 N 12 M M M '5 B 16 15 lS N 19 H 20 M 22 M 24 M 26 M SO B 39 N 42 N 44 M 45 B 47 N 49 M 5° M 51 VI CONTENTS Rose-Fruit, . Whispers at Court, Heart and Wit, Lines by a Person of Quality, Brumaire, The Dispassionate Artificer to his Love, September, . Song, After Parting, The Beauty, Schizzo dal Vero, Across the Park, From the Pincian, A Song of the Three Kings, Rose and Lily, From Theocritus, I, From Alcman, Heliodore, Tyrus, A Ballad of Colours, The Lost Self, Within and Without, Polonaise, Nocturne, Three Months, An Autumn Lily, After Sunset, The Secret of the East, Caligula, On the Toilet-table of Queen On his Mistress' Eyebrow, Worship, Marie-Antoinette, B R 8 N N N M B N N N N N B B B M B B M M N M B N N M N H N N N B 52 S3 55 57 58 59 60 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 7i 72 73 74 75 76 79 80 81 82 83 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 CONTENTS Charity, Nature's Caravanserai, False Spring, Le Bois Dormant, An Exchange, A Pastoral, . A Song of Doves, The Debate of the Heart and Soul, Revolt, Submission, . The Dry Lake, To my Totem, The Robin in January, The Georgics, The Aeneid, From Epicharmus, Epilogue to the Birds of Aristophanes, Fragment, Pulvis et Umbra, Spellbound, . Les Reflets, . From the Window in December, East and West, Fellow-Travellers, On a Dead Friend, A Funeral, The Young Landlord, First Snow, . The Rocket, . Pastel, Half- Way in Love, A Great Musician Magdalen Walks in Winter, b VI PAGE N 93 B 94 B 95 N 96 B 97 N 98 N 100 M IOI M 102 M 103 B 104 B 105 B 107 N 108 M 109 M 1 10 M in M 115 N 116 M 117 N 118 B 119 N 120 N 121 N 122 B 123 N 124 B 125 N 126 N 127 N 128 N 131 N 132 vni CONTENTS Imprisoned, . The Passionate Pilgrim, Garden-Heath, The Vigil, . Doubt, Creation, Summer Dawn, Fate's Prisoner, Moon and Tides, Summer and Winter. Love Unretumed, Melancholia, Summer's Story, For an Annunciation To M. B.-J., Hope, Confession of Faith. Beauty, Separation, . Sunt Aliquid Manes, Knowledge after Death, On the Death of Arnold Toynbee, Winchester, . In Memoriam, W. Y. S., Prayers, From Sophocles, PAGE B 133 N 134 N 135 N 136 B 138 B 139 M I40 M 142 M H3 M 145 B 146 B 147 M 148 M 150 M IS' B 153 M 154 B 155 B 157 M 158 B 159 M 160 N 164 B 165 M 166 B 167 B 169 ( > ) A DEDICATION O sweetest face of all the faces About my way, A light for night and lonely places, A day in day ; If you will touch and take and pardon What I can give, Take this, a flower, into your garden, And bid it live. It is not worth your love or praises For aught its own ; Yet Proserpine would smile on daisies Sicilian-grown ; And so beneath your smile a minute May this rest too, Although the only virtue in it Be love of you. A ( 2 ) A SUMMER DAY Green leaves panting for joy with the great wind rushing through ; A burst of the sun from cloud and a sparkle on valley and hill, Gold on the corn, and red on the poppy, and on the rill Silver, and over all white clouds afloat in the blue. Swallows that dart, a lark unseen, innumerous song Chirruped and twittered, a lowing of cows in the meadow grass, Murmuring gnats, and bees that suck their honey and pass : God is alive, and at work in the world : — we did it wrong. Human eyes, and human hands, and a human face Darkly beheld before in a vision, not understood, Do I at last begin to feel as I stand and gaze Why God waited for this, then called the world very good ? FROM THE PERSIAN Were I despised and desolate and poor, Mocked of my foes, forsaken of my kin. If I should cry for pity at thy door, O love, I wonder wouldst thou let me in ? Ah, but if pain or sorrow or disgrace Came to thee, which God grant shaii never be, Sleepless to serve thee and to see thy face To my life's end were bliss enough for me. ( 4 ) AUBADE (FOR C. H. S., SEPTEMBER 1882) Awake ! for day afar , Behind the morning star Climbing, has flooded down on hill and lawn. In the pure western distance, range by range, The purple mountain ridges counterchange Shadow and gleam beneath the skirts of dawn. Mist-veiled, the wood and rill, The harvest field with autumn dew impearled, The long white village clinging on the hill, Shine in the light that lightens all the world. Awake ! for ere to-night Have hid to-day's delight, Or darkness stopped the busy harvesters, Hymen must here hold revel for a space, And bridal chants fill all the echoing place. With flute and viol, and not without a verse, Must one go forth to-day To meet the welcome of her marriage morn, Must one arise and take her southern way, And leave the pastoral valley half-forlorn. AUBADE 5 Hail and fair speed prolong To him and her, O song ! Who meet this day no more on earth to part. Long life and happiness and golden ease, Sweet songs and soft confederate silences, And children's laughter satisfy their heart. Be this September morn, Fragrant and festal in its white array, The first of many and many yet unborn More and much more abundant than to-day. And though she leave us thus, How often back to us Shall she again with matron footstep come, To teach her children each memorial spot. And keep her maiden memory unforgot, Unlost the earlier in the newer home! Often by holm and glen She shall retrace the winged seasons' flight ; Often shall watch the silver-swirling Ken Laugh to the sun or glimmer in the night. So, with long years and sweet Stretched out before their feet, May they the lengthening slopes of life ascend ; Find shade and shelter and cool waters' flow When the sunburns; and when the sun draws low, Sweet sleep and grassy quiet in the end, 6 AUBADE Here, where no lovelier ground Stands open to the mute perpetual sky ; The eternal mountains watching all around, The pastoral river always rippling by. Or, if this life of ours, With light and shade and showers, Be but the dream that we must rise and> break ; If he at last, that shadowy form, if he Who keeps the gate of immortality, Come as the Morning Star to bid us wake, W T hat can our love yet pray For those we love, what better, fairer thing, Than a long gracious night before the day, Good dreams and sweet, and soft awakening ? Ah, and to me it seems That even these earthly dreams May forge a chain that shall outlast the night : That loved and lover for the old love's sake Will turn to one another when they wake, With all the known and with a new delight ; To find that flower full-blown Whose bud and promise cheered their mortal state ; To dwell for ever in that House unknown, Soul grown with soul one and inseparate. AUBADE 3 Awake, O dreamer ! nay With no dim thoughts astray Darken this day of joy and clear delight ; Let happy tears and laughter fill it all, And sunshine, till it find at evenfall Splendour and consecration of the night. Pass thou, my song, and die. And if one ask thee, ere thy breath expire, 'What art thou?' then make answer ' Nothing I : But God send every one their heart's desire.' ( 8 TO F. A. S. 1887 Fast-yellowing phantom birches shake ; In dreams I hear the Ken ; On those dear hills might musing break To music once again ! But here, past cliff and down, expands The Channel winged with ships 1 : And, turning as to foreign lands, I speak from alien lips. So fast the circling seasons fleet, Five years are come and gone. Since on another bride the sweet September sunlight shone. Yet now, from places far away, Once more I fain would send One word to greet the marriage day Of no less dear a friend. ( 9 ) PYRAMUS On one side was a garden, and on one An olive-grove ; the wall was high and wide ; On one side she was singing in the sun, And in the shadow on the other side Revoltfully he was constrained to hide, Beating his brains and comfort finding none, Because the witless wall must still divide Passion from undivined compassion. Till on his side he took his lyre to sing He scarce knew what, some song of days gone_by. Of winter's flight and the return of spring, How brief love's season is, how soon we die ; And softly, as his fingers left the string, Upon the other side he heard her sigh. ( io ) TRANSCENDENTALISM Ah you above me, not Mine, up in air ! Love me or love me not, Why should I care ? Sweet, while the sight of you Gives me delight of you, Let me be quite forgot, Love me or love me not, Turn snow or stone to me, That 's your affair ; Once you were known to me, Why should I care ? ( II ) IMPRESSION Let us not call it love j Nothing to come or past Sweeter, no heaven forecast Heavenlier above, If it could only last. Could it but last, to breathe This April-tempered air, Ever to meet you there, Virginal brows, and wreathe Leaves for your unbound hair. Love could not give or get Hours like these silver-pure Hours that may not endure : Dear, let us love not yet, Nay, though the end be sure. ( 12 ) AMORET Love found you still a child, Who looked on him and smiled Scornful with laughter mild And knew him not : Love turned and looked on you, Love looked and he smiled too, And all at once you knew You knew not what. ii Love laughed again, and said, Smiling, ' Be not afraid : Though lord of all things made, I do no wrong : Like you I love all flowers, All dusky twilight hours, Spring sunshine and spring showers, Like you am young.' AMORET 13 III Love looked into your eyes, Your clear cold idle eyes, Said, ' These shall be my prize, Their light my light : These tender lips that move With laughter soft as love Shall tremble still and prove Love's very might.' IV Love took you by the hand At eve, and bade you stand At edge of the woodland, Where I should pass ; Love sent me thither, sweet, And brought me to your feet ; He willed that we should meet, And so it was. ( 14 ) MORNING MUSIC * (for a picture) In morning meadows even so Piped the boy shepherd long ago, Where sunlit on a grassy dell The orchard-blossom flushed and fell, And cool in shadow ran the sweet Sicilian water at his feet. ( '5 ) MOUNTAIN ECHO (for a statue) In some Arcadian valley deep withdrawn The shepherd to the shepherd called at dawn ; Clear rang his cry ; the music that it had High on the hill awoke the Oread, And she her sister, and afar on high The silver echoes made divine reply, While he, exultant, hung half-startled thus, And heard Cyllene answer Maenalus. ( 16 ) TO COMMAS tv 5' virb Spvffiv i) vnb irtvKais a.5i> jxeXicrSonevos KaraK^KXuro, Oele Ko/xdra. Here on this garden's close-cut grass, Where here and there a leaf astray Lies yellow, till the wind shall pass And take it some new earthy way, Here, O Comatas, let us lie While yet the autumn sun is high. The stir of men is quiet now, But birds are singing each to each ; The robin on the apple bough Sings to the robin in the beech, And swallows twitter as they go Wheeling and sweeping high and low. No sound but these sweet madrigals To our enclosed garden comes, Save when a ripened apple falls, Or gnats intone, or a wasp hums. Here shall thy voice bid time speed by, O boy Comatas, as we lie. TO COMATAS 17 Sing some old rhyme of long ago, Of lady-love or wandering knight, Of faithful friend and valorous foe, And right not yet estranged from might. The songs our singers sing us now, O boy Comatas, sing not thou. Sing, for thy voice has gentle power To cancel years of fret and woe, And I, remembering this one hour, Shall pass sad days the happier so, And thou, before the sun has set, O boy Comatas, wilt forget. B ( 18 ) SPRING IN WINTER Sick, and sullen and sad the slow days go ; Fog creeps over the land, and frost and snow Grip on the springs of joy, and stop their flow. Yet at thy voice, beloved, the ice to-day Felt the ardours of Spring, and fell away, Bubbled again and sang with the joy of May. ( 19 ) THE PASSING OF THE YEAR When the breath of March was keen And the woods were brown and bare, Covered from the cruel air In a tangled bed of green Violets grew unplucked, unseen, Sweet and meet to wreathe your hair, If it only could have been. But Love's heart and hope were strong As he smiled and whispered low : When the summer roses blow, When the summer swallows throng, Though a little while be long, She will come at last to know, She will take our flowers and song. Now encroaching sunset shows That the year hath turned his face Unto failure and disgrace, Brooding mists and beating snows, While along the garden-rows Leaf and petal fall apace, And with each a poor hope goes. ( 20 ) THE SWALLOW SONG (from athenaeus viii. 360 b) Stmg by Greek boys from door to door when the first swallozv came oversea. Come, come is the swallow, With fair spring to follow. She and the fair weather Are come along together. White is her breast, And black all the rest. Roll us a cake Out of the door From your rich store For the swallow's sake, — And wine in a flasket And cheese in a basket And wheat-bread and rye, These the swallow will not put by, Will you give us or shall we go ? If you will, why rest you so ; THE SWALLOW SONG 21 But and if you shall say us nay, Then we will carry the door away, Or the lintel above it, or, easiest of all, Your wife within, for she is but small. Give us our need And take God-speed. Open door to the swallow then, For we are children and not old men. / ( 22 ) THE GOLDEN BOOK OF CUPID AND PSYCHE ' Once in a city of old Lived a king and a queen ; These had three fair daughters, But the fairest of all was the third — ' How, in the ages of gold, Where summer meadows were green, By welling of pastoral waters Did the story begin to be heard ? Surely the world was good, And life and passion and speech Still seemed to sparkle and quiver In sunlit dew of the morn ; And the wood-nymphs danced through the wood, And the sea-wind sang to the beach, And the wise reeds talked in the river, When this tale came to be born. CUPID AND PSYCHE 23 No]! in an age like ours, Dull, philanthropic, effete, From the dust of a world grown stupid And a language deep in decay, Sudden, with scent as of flowers, With song as of birds, the sweet Story of Psyche and Cupid Strangely sprang into day. Seventeen centuries more Have given their sands to the sum Of kings and queens passed over And cities of long ago ; But still to our ears as of yore The musical soft words come, Whose magic the earliest lover Knew, and the last will know. ( 2 4 ) AN ETRUSCAN RING Where, girt with orchard and with oliveyard, The white hill-fortress glimmers on the hill, Day after day an ancient goldsmith's skill Guided the copper graver, tempered hard By some lost secret, while he shaped the sard Slowly to beauty, and his tiny drill, Edged with corundum, ground its way until The gem lay perfect for the ring to guard. Then seeing the stone complete to his desire, With mystic imagery carven thus, And dark Egyptian symbols fabulous, He drew through it the delicate golden wire, And bent the fastening; and the Etrurian sun Sank behind Ilva, and the work was done. AN ETRUSCAN RING 25 II What dark-haired daughter of a Lucumo Bore on her slim white finger to the grave This the first gift her Tyrrhene lover gave, Those five-and-twenty centuries ago ? What shadowy dreams might haunt it, lying low So long, while kings and armies, wave on wave, Above the rock-tomb's buried architrave Went million-footed trampling to and fro ? Who knows ? but well it is so frail a thing, Unharmed by conquering Time's supremacy, Still should be fair, though scarce less old than Rome. Now once again at rest from wandering Across the high Alps and the dreadful sea, In utmost England let it find a home. ( 26 ) NAUSICAA By this they have the island well in sight, Its faint fields gleaming through the mist ; all night Have they swept on, the dark wave off the stem Gurgling ; and now the morning star is bright. Only four days ago with cart and mules We drove to where the running water cools The round white pebbles, slipping over them, In the bright meadow-bordered river pools. There came he on us from the forest dim, Sea-worn, but like a god in face and limb ; Even a king's daughter, wonderful and fair, Might lose her heart unblamed to one like him. O splendour of the sunset as we went Past the ploughed fields to where the poplars bent About Athene's spring that, rising there, Down the King's Meadow its white water sent ! And there I left him, and drove on apace Between the shipyards, through the market-place, While all the air seemed sweet and musical, For next day I should see him face to face, NAUSICAA 27 And the day after, and for ever thus ; For he would stay here and be one of us, Dwelling at ease within our palace hall Clad in soft raiment, great and glorious. Ah me, the ways untrod, the words unsaid ! The tender memories unremembered ! The dreadful presence of what might have been, And life eternal of things done and dead ! One word of parting was to serve for all, One last short word, when to the festival He came at evening, his face flushed and keen With thoughts of home ; and high along the hall The great gold statues held their torches red. I spoke, with loud seas swirling in my head, Farewell : remember that to me this day Thou owest thy life's ransom. Then he said Some words in answer : his voice sounded dim, Far off: the silver pillars seemed to swim Before me ; and he spoke and passed away, And that was the last word I had of him. All the next day they sat along the hall And feasted till the sun began to fall And the last healths were drunk ; then silently The oarsmen, and he far above them all, 28 NAUSICAA Went shoreward, where the swift ship rocking lay ; And the sun sank, and all the paths were grey ; Then bent they to the oars, and murmuringly The purple water cleft and gave them way. The twisting-horned slow-swinging oxen low Across the fields : light waves in even flow Plash on the beach : but when he went from us The morning and the sunlight seemed to go. The gods are angry ; we shall never be Now as of old, when far from all men we Dwelt in a lonely land and languorous, Circled and sundered by the sleeping sea. Yea, the Olympians then were wont to go Among us, visible godheads, to and fro ; So far we lived from any sight or touch Of evil, in the sea's engirdling flow. What now if Lord Poseidon, as men say, Be wroth against us, and will choke the bay With a great mountain ? — yet I care not much ; All things are grown the same since yesterday. Why should I live where everything goes wrong, Where hope is dead, and only grief lasts long ? I will have rest among the asphodel ; For death is stronger, though my love be strong. NAUSICAA There will I see the women he did see, Leda and Tyro and Antiope And Ariadne, queens that loved too well Of old, and ask them if they loved like me. The last white stars grow fainter one by one ; The folding mists rise up to meet the sun ; Birds twitter on our dewy orchard trees ; Day comes : alas ! my day is nearly done. (He is on land in Ithaca by this.) Come now, I pray thee, and with one soft kiss Draw the life out of me and give me ease, Queen golden-shafted, maiden Artemis. ( 30 ) THE RETURN OF ULYSSES Thence we sailed forward for a night and day, Across blue breadths of water, touched with spray Under a south-west wind, that steadily Sped us along our undiscovered way. But when, gold clouds about him for attire, The low broad sun, a lamp of crimson fire, Sank in the west, we looked across the sea, And saw far off the land of our desire. One mountain peak where sky and water ceased, Rising above the flush that girt the east, Snow-crowned, steep-falling, while our ship ran on Above the purple waste of waves increased. And the sun sank, and all the sea was grey Before us ; and behind us, where the day Lingered north-westward, still the water shone Opaline, where the keel had cloven her way. Thus we sailed forward through the falling night In the night wind, while ever on our right Orion wheeled his slowly blazing belt, And two large planets rose and sank from sight THE RETURN OF ULYSSES 31 Low in the south : and now the stars outspread Drew westward, and the summer dew was shed Wet on the deck and cordage ; and we felt Rather than saw the island, straight ahead, A vast low shadow in the shimmering sea, Whereon the breaking rollers ceaselessly Moaned through the darkness as they struck the sand On that untrodden shore where we would be. At last we saw their white foam faintly shine Around our feet, and on the extreme sea-line We beached the ship, and leapt ourselves on land, And sleeping waited for the Morn divine. But when the rosy-fingered Morn on high, The Lady of the Light, had climbed the sky, We rose and sought about us, where the way Up to the city of our search might lie. A mile of river-meadow, where the grass, Knee-deep and dewy, swayed to let us pass, We crossed, while through the morning misty- grey Shot gleams of colour as from burnished brass. 32 THE RETURN OF ULYSSES The air was still around us ; only nigh Upon our left the river murmured by, And far behind the lapping waves at play Washed on the shingle indistinguishably. Then the path turned and left the meadow land, Winding through corn-fields high on either hand, Till on a ridge we climbed, where near the way About a fountain many poplars stand. And now we faced the morning ; and the brown Heads of the ripe wheat were bowed softly down, And the mist lifted in the morning breeze : And looking forward we could see the town. A road and double row of shipyards ran Between two bays to where the walls began, And a white temple and palace girt with trees Beyond, but nowhere any sign of man. Then we descended towards it, and on all A silence fell ; we did not speak nor call : And our dark-eyed sweet-voiced passenger Led on, until we came below the wall. THE RETURN OF ULYSSES 33 But as we entered — how can mortal tell In mortal words the marvel that befell ? Whether you will believe I hardly care : I know I should have disbelieved as well- Suddenly out of nothing seemed to spring All round us, clasping us as in a ring, Whence risen or how passed through is marvellous, A mountain, vast and overshadowing. Sheer-sided it engirt us, towering high All round, but open far above, whereby Some little light fell down and came to us, So that we saw the stars within the sky, The seven stars sickle-wise above our head ; And we went dumbly on, astonished, Unwitting what we did or whence we came, Following where the twilit pathway led. At last a gleam of firelight led us on To where afar the palace doorway shone, Lit as for banquet ; but the flickering flame Fell on bare places whence the guests were gone. c 34 THE RETURN OF ULYSSES Faintly the scent of burning cedar rolled About the tapestries that fold by fold Drooped from the walls ; in double row- thereby Stood torches held by torchbearers of gold. There, on a couch with spices overstrown, And coverings coruscant with precious sfone, Clad in a robe of strange Sidonian dye Sea-coloured, lay a sleeping girl alone. Breathless we stood and did not dare to stir, Fearing some wizardry still deadlier ; But he who led us half restrained a cry And went straight forward and stooped down to her. Lo, when a small rain from the warm wet south Lights on the grass that pants at noon for drouth ; Even so, so softly and so tenderly, He bent above her and kissed her on the mouth. And in that moment's space from shore and bay The mountain without hand was rolled away, And round us like an opening sunflower The golden house unfolded into day. THE RETURN OF ULYSSES 35 But through the girl a quiver limb by limb Ran, and her dark eyes opened and grew dim, As without any word he clung to her Trembling all over ; and she clung to him. But as I saw them thus and stood apart, Half blinded and a little sick at heart, My eyes upon the strange bright city turned That seemed not wholly strange, in street or mart, Or orchard-close, where from a double spring Danced the white water and went murmuring Under the gateway, and with boughs that burned Under their golden load, by many a thing Of name less known, in ranged rows kept state Apple and olive, pear and pomegranate, And vineyard plots where by a light wind fanned Swung the rich clusters ; and beyond the gate That mountain outline and that curve of shore, That harbour with the swinging ships that bore No rudder by the stern-post ; sea and land And people seemed as things long known before : 36 THE RETURN OF ULYSSES Till, as I wondered, like a sound long spent, In dreams re-echoed, through my lips there went The old surging rhythm of ' these Phaeacian men, Who dwelt of old time nigh the violent • Tribe of the Cyclops, in the lawns outspread Of Hypereia, and were sore bested For lack of might before their raids ; so then Divine Nausithoiis raised them up and led ' And set in Scheria, far from men that win Wealth by their trade, and walled the city in, And builded houses and made temples tall, And gave them share and share of tilth therein. ' But he ere now was gone, struck down by Fate, To darkness, and Alcinous held his state, Skilled by the gods in counsel ; therewithal Grey-eyed Athene lighted at his gate.' This was the land that many men desire In other lands where other pleasures tire ; Yet one alone might there find resting- place, Having attained through many a flood and fire, THE RETURN OF ULYSSES 37 Even he who sailed with us across the wan Reaches of tossing water. Not a man But named him now by name, and in his face Gazed long, and knew him for the Ithacan. For us, our resting was not won as yet ; To other shores our windy sails were set, Ah, and we might not sojourn in the land Where they who sojourn all their pain forget. So but short time we lingered ; for the wind Fair-streaming eastward blew, and brought to mind Those old companions of our wandering race, Whose swifter sails had left our crew behind. And autumn grew, and swallows on the wing Gathered for flight, and songs that reapers sing Were over, and along the field-paths went Girls with piled baskets red from vintaging. And the time neared of wrecks on sea and sand Andstreaming storms on many a wave-lashed strand Without, though here no wind were violent, Nor stonn could trouble that enchanted land. For the last time we feasted there arow In the king's palace, when the sun grew low, Deep into night with all our company ; And in the morning we embarked to go. 38 THE RETURN OF ULYSSES The bay lay quiet in the slant sunshine, The white rocks quivering in it ; but, divine, Fresh and wind-stirred, far out the open sea Rolled in a rough green violet-hollowed line. We entered in and at the thwarts sate down ; And at our going all the Scherian town Stood thronged to speed us : softly in the heat The water rippled through the oar-blades brown. And through the palace garden he and she, Hand clasped in hand, came down beside the sea, And hailed us one by one with voices sweet, And bade farewell and all prosperity. Then our oars dipped together, and the spray Flashed in a million sparkles round our way, As we with rowing swift and strenuous Shot out across the sleeping sunlit bay. There on the white sea-verge, till all the strand Grew dim behind us, still I saw them stand In the low sunlight : if they looked at us I know not ; but they stood there hand in hand. ( 39 KI BROTH -H ATT AAV AH MOSES Hot sun, dry sand, yet dew- Morning and night descends ; Praise God who giveth you His own Angels for friends, Who thus your table dress In wildest wilderness. ISRAELITE O heavy toil to gather, O tasteless, sapless bread, Than such faint life far rather In the Red Sea we were dead. With manna day by day Our soul is dried away. MOSES Souls mine, brought forth with pain, Nursed, carried at my breast, Weep not, nor murmur again, 4 o KIBROTH-HATTAAVAH For surely at last comes rest — At last, after this toil A land of wine and oil. ISRAELITE Not so, father, not so, That land comes never nigher : We move hut to and fro Following a cloud and fire Blown by the winds in heaven. Aimless, as sands are driven. MOSES Nay, but can ye forget How from the further coast Ye passed, nor your feet were wet. But Pharaoh and his host Were whelmed by the wall of sea And you, children, were free ? ISRAELITE Freedom is this ? then liever Slavery in Egypt's vales, Where flows the sevenfold river Whose fish shine with bright scales, Where grow fruits without number, Green melons, green cucumber. KIBROTII-HATTAAVAH 41 MOSES See from the darkened dawn What clouds the Spirit brings ; Hark, near and nearer drawn The whirr of infinite wings ! Praise God, fall at His feet, Who hath given you flesh to eat. ISRAELITE Flesh, sweet flesh, once more : In the veins blood, joy at heart : For a week, a month, as of yore Bliss : . . . . . . ah, too sweet thou art : Dark falls, I bite the dust Of the grave, the grave of lust. ( 42 ) DURING MUSIC Play on, play on : we have no need of light ; Play on, play on : why should we wish to see ? The notes fall softly, softly falls the night, And builds a barrier between you and me. Play on, play on : let nothing break the spell ; Play on, play on : tired are my eyes and brain ; The music and the darkness like them well, And soothe their restlessness to rest again. Darkness and music flooding all the room, Shadow and sound, a blinding and a cry ; Nothing beside the music and the gloom — They are all, they are life and death, they are you and I. I think the charm can never change or cease, I cannot tell how long I have been here, I only know that this is perfect peace, A mystic calm, a heaven in a tear. DURING MUSIC 43 I have no longing for things great and fair, Beauty and strength and grace of word or deed, For all sweet things my soul has ceased to care, Infinite pity — that is all its need. No hallowed transport of the heavenly throng, No happy echo from the saints' abode, The voice of many angels and their song, The river flowing from the feet of God ; Only the vague remembrance of a dream, Dwelling, a plaintive presence, in the mind, Only the patient murmur of a stream, Only a bird's cry borne upon the wind. Lights now ! the sound ebbs, the enchantment flies; Ah, it was sweet ; but these are sweeter far — The perfect innocency of your eyes, Your smile more lovely than the first-born star. ( 44 ) MOON RISK IN PI M LI CO Evening has fallen now on other lands : » Where Memnon and his monstrous brother meet The moon with level visage and set hands The long green shadows fall about their feet : Where Trevi ferments in the Roman street She shines, and where the tomb of Hadrian stands Silvers the waters, and the waves that beat Past Tiber-mouth upon Circean sands. Our morn and eve are bleared with mist and glare, The gas-lamps glimmer half the afternoon ; But here the town seems not quite unaware Of twilight, here an air foretastes of June, And through the lilac-branches of the square Silent and swift and sacred moves the moon. ( 45 ) FALSE DAWN Ah, love, it was the nightingale And not the lark, I know. That brought to mind that ancient tale Of one who long ago Beneath unknown and sultry skies, On glimmering pathways led By glamour of her perilous eyes, Pursued the moon that fled. Alone he went from deep to deep, With aching eyes abrim ; Alone she trod the heavenly steep, And looked unstirred on him. He followed, down the setting sky, That desperate chase, till she, Long after midnight, silently Dropped down into the sea. Then iron darkness round him grew, And all his pulses ceased ; When something, what he knew not, drew His eyes into the east ; 46 FALSE DAWN Where, high beyond the dells that hid Their maiden upland snows, A sudden shaft of colour slid From lilac into rose. As one awaking, through the night He felt the wash of air ; In great dismay, in strange delight, » He turned, he looked ; and there, Through gleaming mist serene outspread, And vapours thinly drawn. Saw open, far above his head, The golden gate of dawn. Ah, love, it was a dream we dreamed, And such come seldom true ; Dawn needs must break the spell that seemed To make me aught to you. Our music was the nightingale And not the lark — ah no ! And not of magic is our tale. And not of long ago. ( 47 ) THE NIGHT WATCHES Come, O come to me, voice or look, or spirit or dream, but O come now ; All these faces that crowd so thick are pale and cold and dead — Come thou, Scatter them back to the ivory gate and be alone and rule the night. Surely all worlds are nothing to Love for Love to flash thro' the night and come ; Hither and thither he flies at will, with thee he dwelleth— there is his home. Come, O Love, with a voice, a message ; haste, O Love, on thy wings of light. Love, I am calling thee, Love, I am calling ; dost thou not hear my crying, sweet ? Does not the live air throb with the pain of my beating heart, till thy heart beat ? — Surely momently thou wilt be here, surely, O sweet Love, momently. 48 THE NIGHT WATCHES No, my voice would be all too faint when it reached Love's ear, tho' the night is still, Fainter ever and fainter grown o'er hill and valley and valley and hill, There where thou liest quietly sleeping, and Love keeps watch as the dreams flit by. Ah, my thought so subtle and swift, can it not fly till it reach thy brain, And whisper there some faint regret for a weary watch and a distant pain ? — Not too loud, to awake thy slumber ; not too tender, to make thee weep ; Just so much for thy head to turn on the pillow so, and understand Dimly, that a soft caress has come long leagues from a weary land, Turn and half remember and smile, and send a kiss on the wings of sleep. ( 49 ) MAGDALEN GARDENS Here in these walks, where May brings June to birth, Peace reigns and rest ; these leafy aisles are free From harm of axe and hammer, every tree Dense-clad with summer, and shrill-tongued with mirth. Spirit of beauty, very God on earth, Earth loves thee ever and is loved of thee ; Is it by man alone that thou must see Wrong done thee, thankless change and theft and dearth ? Nay, but thou lovedst us too, in days gone by. Wilt thou not turn and visit us in pity, Here where thou once wast wont to show thy face To those whose sons forget thee or deny, Before they have destroyed thy holy city, And quite laid waste what was thy dwelling-place ? ( 50 ) THE LIMIT OF LANDS The east sea and the utmost sea * Wash on long leagues of sand ; And past the sandhills silently Stretches a broad low land. The limit of the world is se Here, and the end of all : White sea-gull and white sail forget This way to flit or call. One infinite bare arch of sky Stands flawless overhead ; The edges of Eternity Fold round, and Time lies dead. ( 5i ) FROM SOPHOCLES (Frag. 678) Children, Love truly is not Love alone, But many are the names he hath to name : Hell, and Desire that wasteth like a flame, And passionate Madness, and the mingled moan Of Violence and Lamentation ; All these for names hath he, being yet the same, Who over sea and land hath spread his fame, And high in heaven established his throne. — Thus is Love manifold to mortal sense, Makes of day night and is by night a fire, Whom he will humbles, whom he will prefers, Lord of all grace ; and Hell and Violence, Madness and Lamentation and Desire, Lo, these are also but Love's ministers. ( 52 ) ROSE-FRUIT They praised me when they found the new-born bud, And all my blood Flamed, as I burst in blossom, to requite Their dear delight. And still they praised my beauty, as I grew In the sun's view ; Then what will be their joy, said I, to find My fruit behind ! But when the wind came, and revealed at last My heart set fast, They said, "Twere well this cumbering thing should go ; New buds will blow.' ( 53 ) WHISPERS AT COURT OCTOBER Come away, away, Summer at length is sped. Was ever a King so gay ? And now he lieth dead. Kiss we his brother's hand, Who reigns in the South land. ii Stay and see, and see ; Summer was glorious, But gorgeous pageantry Doth little profit us. His Queen (if truth be told) Will scatter abroad his gold. 54 WHISPERS AT COURT NOVEMBER Come now, now come, Autumn her gold hath spent ; And through the palace doth roam, Moaning her discontent. » Her voice is shrill and drear, A weariness to hear. ii Stay yet, yet stay, Winter will reign to-night. Did you not mark to-day His bitter smile, in her sight ? He hath a plot, I ween, To take captive the Queen. ( 55 ) HEART AND WIT It is not for infinity, For larger air, and broader sea, I long, but for one child, ah me ! Desolate in my room I sit, And my heart, questioned by my wit, Makes poor attempts to answer it. A mere child. Yes, a child whose face Is all I care for, to express Colour and form, and time and space. Who prattles nonsense. Ay, may be, But woven throughout with subtlety, Far, far too deep and high for me. While you say nothing. For my speech Would break the spell that the weird witch Has finely wrought from each to each. 56 HEART AND WIT Can it be love ? Poor feeble word ! Confounding each emotion stirred By God or man or tree or bird. What is it 7 Nay, I know not, good, But I would learn it, if I could, This mystery of flesh and blood. But this I know, that sun and star Are less to me and far less far Than certain lights and shadows are. (And this I fear, that some strange new Swift change may come to me or you, And we be no more one but two.) ( 57 ) LINES BY A PERSON OF QUALITY The loves that doubted, the loves that dissembled, That still mistrusted themselves and trembled, That held back their hands and would not touch ; Who strained sad eyes to look more nearly, And saw too curiously and clearly What others blindly clutch ; To whom their passion seemed only seeming, Who dozed and dreamed they were only dreaming, And fell in a dusk of dreams on sleep ; When dreams and darkness are rent asunder, And morn makes mock of their doubts and wonder, What should they do but weep ? ( 58 ) BRUMAIRE Morn on heroic mountain-land and stream, Far, far away, illumined silver skies, A slope of ancient olives with their blue Dwarf shadows, and your presence there, and you Meeting my eyes with unaverted eyes : These things I saw at daybreak in a dream. ii That was my dream, and this reality : Perpetual sallow twilight, dank and dull, A blur of busy feet that come and go, Obstinate wheels churning the miry snow, Whilst I sit idle, and your pitiful Clear eyes have pity but nought else for me. 59 ) THE DISPASSIONATE ARTIFICER TO HIS LOVE I would not beg Pygmalion's boon for mine Were gods less envious ; if such gifts were doled I 'd ask thine actual beauty to behold Clear of life's losses, breathlessly divine, 'Mid pillared porphyry and serpentine Set in some chapel delicate and old Brass-paved and domed with green and blue and gold, A hundred lamps hanging about the shrine. There would I dwell, and have therein delight, Thy priest and keeper of thine holy house, To do thee sleepless service day and night, Foster the hallowed flames that never die, Flower-strow the floor, and with pure lips and brows Worship thy frozen feet of ivory. ( 6o ) SEPTEMBER V A day and a day together, * That was so little for me ! Dawn sprang forth of the east, Broadened and shone and increased, Ah, and so swiftly deceased, Too swiftly ; but that had to be. Roses late in September Sweetened the warm dead air ; Roses on roses shed Fell, and out of their bed Love half lifted his head, Crying that life was so fair. Because in and out of the garden, Flower of the rose, went one At whose presence the roses were stirred, For her beauty, the song of a bird Made flesh ; and who saw her or heard, Heard music, and saw the sun. SEPTEMBER 61 Music too sweet for remembrance In the time of the fall of the leaf, And the long dark months after two Days of delight, so few ! (So little at least for you To remember for gladness or grief.) Sun that burned out of season With the old magnificent flame May-time knew, when above her Broad elm-branches for cover Swayed, and the grass like a lover Kissed her feet as she came. Ah sweet sad luminous season That could lead to nothing but night Snow-barred blue overhead ; Rose leaves strewn on the red Soil where the year half dead Felt them in dying delight. What had it been in the summer, When the fall of the year was so sweet ? What, but the vision of heaven Given, and taken as given ? And the steadfast eyes of the seven Stars keep counsel of it. 62 SEPTEMBER Dreamer of dreams, reawaken ! So they say in the night : Take thy burden and go ; What part is thine in the low Laughter of waters that flow Out of thy reach in thy sight ? Gone is the sweet spring- water, And the music of it is gone. Go thou : this is not thy stay : I have given thee a day and a day (Saith one) : rise up, go away, Thou and thy visions, alone. I have shown thee the garden of spices Once, and the land of the sun : Shown and covered from sight : Do I not right ? do right ! Take thy days of delight, Bury them deep, and have done. What, that twice in a lifetime Life has been live at thy touch ? Twice ; why wilt thou a third ? Too much (O song of a bird Made flesh ! O passionate word Unspoken !) already too much. SEPTEMBER 63 Take hold on the months that are many, Leave hold of the days that werejew : Leave hold ; or look for a worse Vision, too high to rehearse, So high, it shall cause thee to curse The days because they were two. Then slowly my heart made answer, Slowly out of its shrine : So let it be : it is fit : Surely the years as they flit Shall dull the remembrance of it, Till not even that shall be mine : But I and my dead be together, I and my dead be alone ; Till the dead be even as I, And out of an iron sky, With a weary monotonous cry, The wind on the dust make moan. (