THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 OF
 
 GRANITE DUST.
 
 GRANITE DUST 
 
 FIFTY POEMS 
 
 RONALD CAMPBELL MACFIE 
 
 LONDON 
 
 KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD. 
 PATERNOSTER HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD 
 
 1892
 
 [ The Rights of Translation and of Reproduction are reserved."]
 
 pi? 
 
 TO MY BEST FRIEND, 
 
 3ames /IDatbfeson, 
 
 THESE POEMS 
 ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 
 
 94195S
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To James Mathieson ....... i 
 
 Alas, alas ! ..... ... 7 
 
 A Day in June ........ n 
 
 An October Eve ...... IX 
 
 Kisses ! . '. ...... j, 
 
 A Protest . . . . . . . . .15 
 
 God's Higher Education ...... 17 
 
 Triumph ........ 2O 
 
 A Proposal ....... 22 
 
 Verses ....... 23 
 
 The Lyre ....... . .26 
 
 Song (Summer Wanes) ....... 27 
 
 King Death ........ 2 () 
 
 We Wail ......... 3I 
 
 Depart ......... 23 
 
 With a Gift of Roses ...... 35 
 
 Loveland 
 
 Caves .......... 4I 
 
 39 
 
 41 
 
 42 
 
 Fate . . . 
 
 Harvest 44 
 
 The Shadow of a Cross 46 
 
 " A Pageantry of Mist " 48 
 
 Unattainable 40
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Telemachus 5 1 
 
 Sonnet on Browning 53 
 
 A Face 54 
 
 Dragon Parable. . . . . . . -55 
 
 That Night 5 6 
 
 White Heather 59 
 
 Nugae Canorse .60 
 
 HPOS KENTPA 62 
 
 Why ? 63 
 
 The Poet's Lyre . . . ... . .64 
 
 Parted . . . 65 
 
 In the White Future 66 
 
 Pity .- 68 
 
 The Dying-Day of Death . . . . . .69 
 
 Song (How will the Night) ... 73 
 
 Dawn . 75 
 
 Never Again -77 
 
 Rondeau (Here Lieth Love) ... 78 
 
 A Polemic .... 79 
 
 Love Me 82 
 
 Hope . . 84 
 
 Two Sketches 86 
 
 No Saint 89 
 
 Hunger -9 
 
 Eyes ..;... i3 
 
 A Song 10 4 
 
 A Rosebud . . . .105
 
 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 TO JAMES MATHIESON. 
 
 MESEEMS it is a million moons ago 
 
 Since first my eager life was launched from home. 
 The sky above is dark : the waves below 
 
 Are white with foam. 
 
 But past the tempest and beyond the dark, 
 Where evening sunlight falleth on the sea, 
 
 I watch the snowy wings that bear thy bark 
 Away from me.
 
 2 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 And now I can discern the empty sail 
 Wearily flapping in the rosy west ; 
 
 The sea around is calm : the homeward gale 
 Is hushed to rest. 
 
 Thrice blessed, from such vantage to behold, 
 Behind, the howling tempest, and before, 
 
 The crown of victory, the sea of gold, 
 The eternal shore. 
 
 Now tarry, for thy toilsome days are done : 
 Float like a weary sea-bird on the tide : 
 
 Thy wings and plumage by the setting sun 
 All glorified. 
 
 Tarry a while but why do we entreat ? 
 
 We know thee willing to prolong thy stay- 
 To linger when the air is cool and sweet 
 
 At close of day.
 
 TO JAMES MATHIESON. 
 
 Rather of God this mercy should we crave, 
 More softly than an angel draweth breath, 
 
 May His wind waft thee o'er the western wave 
 To life from death. 
 
 As in the vortex of a loving kiss 
 
 May thy white soul to heaven be gently drawn, 
 And drift on slowly in a dream of bliss 
 
 From dusk to dawn. 
 
 So softly and so gently mayst thou go 
 Out of the sunlight to the land unseen, 
 
 That only doubtfully thy soul may know 
 When death hath been. 
 
 So slow and peaceful may thy passing be, 
 That we may ever keep, until we die, 
 
 A vision of thy sails upon the sea 
 Against the sky. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 That we may have thy semblance with us still. 
 
 Lighting our voyage to the same fair goal, 
 And aiding us to bring as pure a will, 
 
 As white a soul. 
 
 Best friend, in voyaging, one early morn, 
 
 Thro' surging mist that made me cold and blind, 
 
 My bark to a strange island-place was borne 
 By wave and wind. 
 
 Dark desert-places I before had found ; 
 
 But this strange island was a happy spot ; 
 Sweet-scented flowers blossomed all around, 
 
 And withered not. 
 
 And I discovered, underneath the trees, 
 
 With tattered garments and dishevelled hair, 
 
 A hundred haggard Sorrows on their knees 
 In silent prayer.
 
 2O JAMES MATH1ESON. 
 
 And, standing where the sky was blue above, 
 Maidens, with happy lips and earnest eyes, 
 
 Sang hymns of a divine undying love 
 In Paradise. 
 
 And Memories, with patient widow-faces, 
 
 Looked calmly backwards thro' the vanished years ; 
 
 And smiled to find, like dew, in distant places, 
 Forgotten tears. 
 
 And wide-eyed Hopes looked blindly on the world, 
 Lost in great visions of a time to come, 
 
 When Falsehood should by Truth be Helhvard hurled 
 And stricken dumb. 
 
 Such was the isle yclept the Isle of Song. 
 
 And I took freight of many songs and flowers 
 That haply, when the days were dark and long, 
 
 Might speed the hours.
 
 6 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Now, friend beloved, tho' I cannot bring 
 My songs and flowers to thy golden west, 
 
 Where only angels in the silence sing 
 Anthems of rest ; 
 
 And tho' the distance make my voices vain, 
 Yet to thy dear name do I dedicate 
 
 All 1 have won in voyaging the main 
 This songful freight.
 
 SONG. 
 
 SONG. 
 (Published in Harper's Monthly.} 
 
 ALAS, alas, ebeu ! 
 
 That the sky is only blue, 
 
 To gather from the grass 
 The rain and dew ! 
 
 Alas ! that eyes are fair : 
 That tears may gather there 
 
 Mist and the breath of sighs 
 From the marsh of care ! 
 
 Alas, alas, eheu ! 
 
 That we meet but to bid adieu : 
 
 That the sands in Time's ancient glass 
 Are so swift and few !
 
 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Alas, alas, eheu ! 
 
 That the heart is only true 
 
 To gather, where false feet pass, 
 The thorn and rue !
 
 A DAY IN JUNE. 
 
 A DAY IN JUNE. 
 
 THE sun was zenith high. A lifeless cloud 
 
 Lay in the west 
 Like a dead angel lying in a shroud, 
 
 With lilies on her breast. 
 
 O'erladen was the shimmering air with balm 
 
 And pollen-gold. 
 There reigned a perfect silence and a calm 
 
 O'er hill and wold ; 
 
 Save for the wind gasping among the trees, 
 
 The gurgle of a spring, 
 The momentary sound of gossip-bees 
 
 Low murmuring ;
 
 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Or crackle of the ripe broom's purple pod 
 
 Bursting apart, 
 Or song-bird palpitating up to God 
 
 Singing its heart. 
 
 With light and butterfly the world did seem 
 
 To flicker and flit 
 As though the Maker slept, and in a dream 
 
 Imagined it.
 
 AN OCTOBER EVE. n 
 
 AN OCTOBER EVE. 
 i. 
 
 THE dead leaves fall. 
 
 The air is cold and chill ; 
 
 The world asleep and still. 
 
 The pine trees tall 
 
 In the dark wood 
 
 Stand brown and bare 
 
 In sunless solitude. 
 
 And everywhere 
 
 Reigns o'er the land a silence dread and drear, 
 O'er snow-capped barren hill and moor and mere. 
 
 n. 
 
 But, far away, 
 Borne in a breeze's wake 
 Thro' shaggy fern and brake, 
 A stream's low- lay
 
 12 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Whispers along ; 
 And now and then 
 A throstle's song 
 Comes down the glen, 
 Singing the dirges of the faded light, 
 And heralding the star-attended night.
 
 A'/SSES. 13 
 
 KISSES. 
 
 WHITE, eyelids tremble on thine eyes, 
 Dark lashes quiver on thy cheek ; 
 
 Thy passive lips dispart with sighs, 
 But never speak. 
 
 O love of mine, what thoughts hast thou? 
 
 What thoughts make tumult in thy brain 
 W T hen on thy mouth and hair and brow 
 
 My kisses rain ? 
 
 Is thought not trampled in the mire 
 By passion's panic-eager feet ? 
 
 What know'st thou but a face on fire 
 With kisses sweet ?
 
 i 4 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Are thoughts not dead ? Nay, nay, they thrive ; 
 
 Lo, soul to soul we twain are brought 
 Intensely, wondrously alive 
 . In every thought. 
 
 The discords of chaotic hours 
 
 Are linked in harmony at last ; 
 The Present into crimson flowers 
 
 Evolves the Past. 
 
 This is no mere corporeal bliss : 
 
 No joy the grudging senses dole. 
 It is the hungry whirlwind kiss 
 
 Of soul and soul.
 
 A PROTEST. 15 
 
 A PROTEST. 
 
 WHAT temptress bodied of the devil's sighs, 
 So termagant and tyrannous and strong, 
 
 As take thee from the flowers of Paradise 
 As bring thee from the banquet and the song, 
 
 To peer into the charnel-pits of Doubt : 
 To waste the days in agony with Death ? 
 
 God's mysteries are past all finding out. 
 Life's joys are fugitive as human brez 
 
 breath. 
 
 Because the ways of God are strange and dim 
 
 Are other things inevitably vain? 
 Here is a goblet rosy to the brim 
 
 Will wash cold sorrow from thy heart and brain.
 
 1 6 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 And here are buttercups in gold attire, 
 
 Daisies and daffodilies and heartsease ; 
 And, fashioned of divine delicious fire, 
 , Red flower-lips more wonderful than these. 
 
 And night is glorified by moon and star ; 
 
 And day is gilded by its sun above. 
 Why fret and query what our destinies are 
 
 When life is wonderful and God is Love ?
 
 GOD'S HIGHER ED UCA TION. 1 7 
 
 GOD'S HIGHER EDUCATION. 
 
 As sunshine in the morning hours, 
 Or pelting of an April rain, 
 
 Developeth the folded flowers 
 And ripeneth the tender grain, 
 
 So He developeth thy mind 
 So openeth thy folded heart : 
 
 By patient sun and rain and wind 
 Persuading leaf and leaf apart. 
 
 The thought of other souls will fall 
 With pregnant influence on thine ; 
 
 And on thy leaves and petals all 
 The light of holy lives will shine.
 
 i8 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 And Love will fan thee evermore 
 With scented breezes from the South ; 
 
 And Death will thrill thee to the core, 
 Kissing thee with an icy mouth. 
 
 Like lily-flower, like golden grain 
 
 May thy soul thrive nor know the strife, 
 
 The feverish effort and the pain 
 
 ' This strange disease of modern life.' 
 
 Why vex thy soul with discontent ? 
 
 Wait passively as flowers do. 
 With every morning will be sent 
 
 The silver sunbeams and the dew 
 
 Turn thy soul-chalice to the light, 
 
 To the infinite blue above ; 
 And God will make it fair and white 
 
 And overbrim it with His love.
 
 G OD'S HIGHER ED UCA TION. i 9 
 
 And they who watch thy soul increase, 
 
 Its leaves grow white and strong and broad, 
 
 Will vaguely feel a holy peace, 
 
 An effluence from the heart of God. 
 
 Not knowledge only, and book lore 
 Will make thy spirit wise and good : 
 
 God's changeful summer more and more 
 Must realize thy womanhood. 
 
 And in the autumn-time of death, 
 
 When God doth make thine ignorance wise, 
 And takes from thee thy futile breath 
 
 And gives thee spiritual eyes ; 
 
 Then thou shalt find thyself alone 
 A naked soul of knowledge bare ; 
 
 For of it all canst only own 
 
 What in thyself is good and fair. 
 
 C 2
 
 20 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 TRIUMPH. 
 
 WE triumph in the mere attempt. 
 
 Thy blue eyes gleam ! 
 At least our daring soul has dreamt 
 
 A holy dream. 
 
 At least aspiring thought has flown 
 
 Thro' starry space, 
 Has stood with God in heaven, alone 
 
 And face to face. 
 
 And now altho' we must awake 
 
 To the strife of day, 
 Must watch the frosty morning break 
 
 Sombre and grey.
 
 TRIUMPH. 21 
 
 A calm brow with an aureole 
 
 Will aid our strife : 
 A secret vision in our soul 
 
 Will hallow life.
 
 22 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 A PROPOSAL. 
 
 TIMED by the rhythm of a languid strain, 
 Leaning together in a waltz we turned ; 
 And a pent passion in my being burned 
 
 Till dumb endurance grew a very pain. 
 
 Yet I was silent, deeming speech in vain : 
 Surely, as one in nether hell, I yearned, 
 Why should I climb to heaven to be spurned, 
 
 Why pray for what I never could attain ? 
 
 The music throbbed. Across my lips there swept 
 A flame of hair. And then I know not why- 
 Tut, seeing by her lashes that she wept, 
 
 I dared my hopeless love to testify. 
 O God ! against my side her heart upleapt 
 In sudden, silent, passionate reply.
 
 VERSES. 
 
 VERSES. 
 
 MAIDEN, thy life is like a morn in May, 
 Holy and dim and sweet ; 
 
 Thou wanderest along a dewy way 
 With joyous feet. 
 
 Soft sunlight, slanting from an eastern hill, 
 
 Burneth among thy hair. 
 Above thee all the welkin seems to thrill 
 
 With praise and prayer. 
 
 Around thee in the woods the songsters sing 
 
 Of love divine and deep; 
 Thy blood is salient with the soul of spring ; 
 
 Thy pulses leap.
 
 24 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Thou livest in the hundred harmonies 
 That overflood the dells 
 
 The humming of the honey-laden bees 
 In heather bells, 
 
 The throstle's ecstasy, the blackbird's rune, 
 
 The plover's plaintive cry, 
 The cricket-harper's melancholy tune, 
 
 The breeze's sigh. 
 
 Thy world is half in blossom, half in bud, 
 
 Lit by both rnoon and sun ; 
 What joyance and what bliss are in thy blood, 
 
 Thou happy one ! 
 
 We lonely wanderers in wintry climes, 
 Weary of frost and snow, 
 
 Gazing, have memories of golden times 
 Long years ago.
 
 VERSES. 25 
 
 Our winters vanish as we watch thee pass. 
 
 Again the world is new. 
 The sun is in our eyes ; and on the grass 
 
 Twinkles the dew. 
 
 Again with dreams we glorify the dark 
 
 That lingers on the sky ; 
 In every cloud an angel or a lark 
 
 Goes floating by. 
 
 Surely thy life is generous and true, 
 
 If it can thuswise bring 
 Into sad days the freshness of the dew, 
 
 The joy of Spring.
 
 26 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 THE LYRE. 
 
 'A (3dpfliTO<s Sc xopSats "EpeoTa. ^x"' 
 (Published in the Academy?) 
 
 SHE touched and lo each silent silver wire 
 Won soul and music from her finger tips, 
 And trembled like some convent-maiden's lips 
 Pallid with holy passion and desire. 
 The evening shadows gathered ; and the fire 
 Staggered and struggled with an unseen death. 
 Yet there I sat, and hushed, and held my breath, 
 To catch the palpitations of her lyre. 
 
 Wildly and witchingly the notes rang forth, 
 Charming alive the faces on the wall : 
 Meseemed I saw the warriors above 
 Wondering with the lyre what life was worth, 
 And acquiescing when the chorus call, 
 All tremulous with triumph, answered, " Love ! "
 
 SONG. 27 
 
 SONG. 
 
 SUMMER wanes I saw a swallow flying 
 Southward in the search of love and light. 
 
 Sweetheart, hearken how the wind is sighing, 
 Ever after blossom cometh blight. 
 
 Summer wanes I found a lily lying 
 Withered by the frost of yesternight. 
 
 Sweetheart mine, the roses are a-dying, 
 Ever after blossom cometh blight. 
 
 Summer wanes my lips are weary crying, 
 " Love me a little when the sun is bright." 
 
 Even as I plead the echoes are replying, 
 " Ever after blossom cometh blight."
 
 28 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Summer wanes no longer, fate defying, 
 Dally with Time, who is so swift of flight ; 
 
 But place thy hand in mine and laugh, denying 
 Ever after blossom cometh blight.
 
 KING DEATH. 29 
 
 KING DEATH. 
 
 " HA ! ha ! none dare marry me/' 
 Chuckled the king called Death, 
 
 As, rattling his royal ribs together, 
 He danced himself out of breath. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! none dare marry me," 
 Sang he, thrumming his sickle : 
 
 " None of the women so wondrously fair, 
 " Wondrously fair and fickle." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! none dare marry me," 
 
 Chuckled the king of the scythe. 
 
 " Nathless, my beard is silky and long, 
 
 " And my limbs are shapely and lithe."
 
 30 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! I dare marry thee," 
 
 Laughed the maiden Love. 
 " I heard thy boast, and hastened here 
 
 From the land of light above. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! I dare marry thee : 
 
 Even now we will wed." 
 And she kissed his brow, and his beard, and his eyes ; 
 
 And Death, as she kissed, fell dead.
 
 WE WAIL.' 31 
 
 WE WAIL. 
 
 WE wail that the sky is grey 
 And the silence wearily long. 
 
 The angels answer and say 
 
 " The God of your souls is strong. 
 
 Darkness hideth a day : 
 Silence husheth a song." 
 
 We wail that our works may die 
 And our sowing labour be vain. 
 
 The angels answering cry 
 " God, who rules the rain 
 
 And hangs the sun on high, 
 Will surely tend the grain."
 
 32 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 We wail we are weak of wing : 
 That God is hard to find. 
 
 The angels answering sing 
 " Ah ! you are deaf and blind. 
 
 God is in everything : 
 
 In and thro' and behind."
 
 DEPART. 33 
 
 DEPART. 
 
 WAS it a dream? Could God create 
 
 Of flesh and blood a thing so fair 
 
 With eyes so ignorant of care, 
 
 With brow so whitely delicate ? 
 
 No dream I wot ; and yet I swear 
 
 There seemed more soul than body there ; 
 
 And mouth, and eyes, and hands, and hair 
 
 Seemed, in a spiritual state, 
 
 Immortal and immaculate. 
 
 No dream ; and yet my waking sight 
 
 Saw never such pellucid eyes 
 
 So filled with peace of Paradise, 
 
 So lavish of a holy light. 
 
 No dream ; and yet my spirit sighs,
 
 34 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 And I would fain idealize 
 Thy loving glance, thy low replies, 
 And keep thy hand and forehead white 
 As holy dreams for day and night. 
 
 I fear lest time or toil should mar 
 I fear lest passion should debase 
 The delicacy of thy grace. 
 Depart, and I will throne thee far, 
 Will hide thee in a halcyon place 
 That hath an angel populace ; 
 And ever in dreams will find thy face, 
 Where all things pure and perfect are, 
 Smiling upon me like a star.
 
 WITH AN ANONYMOUS GIFT OF ROSES. 35 
 
 LISTEN, I lay these roses on thy path 
 As petals by a summer wind are blown. 
 
 Why are thy gentle eyes so full of wrath ? 
 I, as a wind, am nameless and unknown, 
 
 And lost and hidden in a width of sky. 
 
 What know you but a rose a song a sigh ? 
 
 And would I were a wind, that I might claim 
 
 A wind's invisible elusive flight, 
 And so might lay my heart on thine like flame, 
 
 Or fly to thee upon some golden night, 
 All passionate and fragrant from the South, 
 
 And crowd my soul upon thy crimson mouth. 
 D 2
 
 36 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Dream that I am a wind : then come and beat 
 With thy white wings along my wind's demesne. 
 
 Innumerably on thy passing feet 
 
 Wild kisses will be rained from lips unseen, 
 
 And hurricanes will toss thee to and fro, 
 Like thistle-down or like a flake of snow. 
 
 Dream that I am a wind : then come and pass 
 On pinion thro' the gentle loving air, 
 
 So gentle that it will not sway the grass, 
 So loving it will swoon among thy hair. 
 
 Come, stretch thy holy wings, and glorify 
 
 The clouds becalmed upon this breathless sky. 
 
 Listen, I lay these roses in thy hand, 
 
 As waves in some tumultuous moment lift 
 
 And lay salt sea-weed on the silver sand. 
 
 Thou canst not scorn me, neither give me shrift ; 
 
 For in the multitude I hide from thee, 
 As waves moan back and mingle with the sea.
 
 WITHANANONYMO US GIFT OF ROSES. 3 7 
 
 And would that I had Kharma in a wave ; 
 
 Then to thy feet my rising tide would bring 
 Red coral from some cold untrodden cave 
 
 Where black leviathans are slumbering, 
 Or purple tangle like a mermaid's tresses, 
 
 From desolate melodious wildernesses. 
 
 O dream I am a wave : then, thundering, 
 My passion will make music in the surge ; 
 
 Or tremulously, softly, slowly sing 
 
 In ripples on the ocean's silver verge ; 
 
 Or keep brave silence, and let shells alone 
 Whisper its secret in an undertone. 
 
 Dream that I am a wave. O lady mine, 
 O goddess mine, how I will flash the sun 
 
 Into the deepness of those eyes of thine ! 
 How I will gather moonbeams one by one, 
 
 And bind them in a heavy golden sheaf, 
 And roll them to thee over rock and reef !
 
 38 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Is love so cheap ? O lady, canst despise 
 
 One who would stand and love thee from afar ? 
 
 Finding his guerdon in thy happy eyes, 
 Glorying in thee as in some white star ? 
 
 Let me be to thee as a wind or wave : 
 To sing about thy path is all I crave. 
 
 O lovely, scornful woman that thou art, 
 Laughing into the shadow where I stand, 
 
 Rejoice that one should lay an unknown heart 
 So absolutely in thy heedless hand : 
 
 Rejoice in my great unknown love, and wear 
 These roses on thy breast and in thy hair.
 
 LOVE LAND 39 
 
 LOVELAND. 
 
 LOVELAND, alas, has locusts, 
 
 Pestilence and pain, 
 Storms that lay the lilies, 
 
 Wind and rain 
 
 Marshes without a moon, 
 
 Where black Death hangs and hovers, 
 Forests where bleach the bones 
 
 Of poor blind lovers. 
 
 Nay, nay, the lilies in loveland 
 
 Never wither and die ; 
 And locusts have never darkened 
 
 Its azure sky.
 
 40 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 These were not bones of lovers 
 
 In yon dark dell : 
 Fool, you had lost your way ; 
 
 And that was hell.
 
 CAVES. 41 
 
 CAVES. 
 
 CAVES are there, trodden by the sea alone, 
 With labyrinths and mazes long ago 
 Silently sculptured by its secret flow 
 
 Where crooked bones of uncouth beasts are strewn, 
 
 And hideous monsters lie and sleep, unknown 
 Even to the waves that wander to and fro 
 With eyes shut, fearing what their sight might show ; 
 
 And trembling as they hear their echoed moan. 
 
 And every heart knows caves as dim and deep 
 Where mouldy bones of uncouth sins decay, 
 
 With corners where old devils, half-asleep, 
 Wait only for a voice or step to say 
 
 "Awake ! " And full of awe we blindly creep 
 From the deep darkness to the light of day.
 
 42 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 FATE. 
 
 SPINNING, spinning, spinning, 
 
 She plieth her ancient loom ; 
 Here, a silver beginning ; 
 There, a sable doom. 
 
 The woof is shadow and sun ; 
 The warp, glory and gloom. 
 Spinning, spinning, spinning 
 Look how the shuttles run. 
 
 Spinning, spinning, spinning, 
 
 She fingers the coloured thread : 
 And here a soul is winning ; 
 There a soul is dead. 
 
 She mingles peace and strife : 
 She ravels white and red. 
 Spinning, spinning, spinning, 
 Webs of human life.
 
 FATE. 43 
 
 Spinning, spinning, spinning, 
 Discord mixed with song, 
 Suffering and sinning, 
 
 Wills that are weak and strong. 
 We think she worketh wrong. 
 She seemeth old and blind ; 
 Yet the web she is spinning 
 God Himself designed.
 
 44 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 HARVEST. 
 
 GOD, be merciful when he awaketh 
 
 From his sleep. 
 God, be pitiful when he uptaketh 
 
 His scythe to reap. 
 
 God, be merciful ! Thou art his Maker. 
 
 His life is vain. 
 Rampant weeds on every acre 
 
 Have choked the grain. 
 
 Help him, God, Thou knowest all his weakness, 
 
 Heart and hand. 
 Help him when he wakens to the bleakness 
 
 Of his land.
 
 HARVEST. 45 
 
 Help him, God, in Thine own silent fashion, 
 
 To arise, 
 Love and labour, till he find compassion 
 
 In Thine eyes. 
 
 God, be merciful when he awaketh 
 
 From his sleep. 
 God, be pitiful when he uptaketh 
 
 His scythe to reap.
 
 46 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF A CROSS. 
 
 How far thro' space and time the soul may go ! 
 
 1 had a dream as of a serpent's tongue 
 That darted venomously to and fro. 
 
 I had a vision of the sword of flame 
 That guarded Eden when the world was young 
 
 And shed a lurid light on Adam's shame. 
 
 I saw it animate with God's great Will, 
 No hand was on the hilt to make it flash ; 
 
 Yet evermore its shriek, more piercing shrill 
 Than a cicala's chirrup, clove the air ; 
 
 And all day long I saw it poise and dash 
 A giant meteor with golden hair.
 
 THE SflADO W OF A CROSS. 47 
 
 Firstly, I watched the morning-planet fade. 
 
 The shadows on a yellow sky up-rolled ; 
 And, as in homage, the mysterious blade 
 
 Cast crimson roses at a mountain's feet, 
 And turned a cloud into a cloth of gold, 
 
 Where midnight and Aurora merge and meet. 
 
 And then I saw the drowsy birds awaken ; 
 
 And thro' their lilt I heard the meteor wail, 
 As wails a soul God's wrath has overtaken, 
 
 As winds lament around a ruined keep, 
 As creaks a vessel's cordage in a gale 
 
 When thunder walks upon the tortured deep. 
 
 Lastly, the Garden darkened and God came, 
 Making a prayer of the discord shrill, 
 
 Hiding and sheathing in His light the flame : 
 And lo, decrepid with despair and loss, 
 
 I saw swart Adam kneeling on a hill, 
 To kiss the holy shadow of a cross.
 
 48 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 "A PAGEANTRY OF MIST." 
 
 FLITTING and hovering in wanton flight 
 Above a waterfall of foam and spray, 
 The wind put forth a hand and niched away 
 
 A misty multitude of forms in white, 
 
 All bowing as repentant sinners might 
 Confronted with the Resurrection-day 
 Only one moment were they given to pray, 
 
 Then dissipated to the Infinite. 
 
 And so, from out the foam of falling years 
 The phantom of an olden memory 
 
 Is gathered by a wind, and re-appears, 
 And floats with folded hands in prayer for me- 
 
 To vanish in a sudden rain of tears 
 Down the dark distance of Eternity.
 
 UNATTAINABLE. 49 
 
 UNATTAINABLE. 
 
 WHY cease to love thee ? Is not loving free ? 
 
 I also love the daisies in the sod, 
 Discovering alike in them and thee 
 
 The love of God. 
 
 And if I leave the daisies in the grass 
 
 And thy bright beauty in thy Maker's care, 
 
 Why should I not sing softly as I pass, 
 And call you fair ? 
 
 I dare to love thee. Be it even so 
 1 also love the sunset in the west. 
 
 I find in thee and in the sunset-glow 
 God manifest.
 
 50 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Why censure me ? I would not rob the sky 
 Of one red sunset rose or one white star. 
 
 And count thee unattainable and high 
 As angels are. 
 
 My love is no mere passion to possess. 
 
 I throne thee in a white exalted place, 
 And watch thy spirit's hidden holiness 
 
 Transform thy face. 
 
 I crown thee with a sunny aureole, 
 
 Acknowledging thy flesh is far from mine 
 
 Only I dare to dream one day my soul 
 Will gather thine.
 
 TELEMACHUS. 51 
 
 TELEMACHUS. 
 
 I WILL be patient, tho' pent wrath and pain 
 
 Catch back my breath : 
 Will hoard the tempest for a hurricane 
 
 Of death. 
 
 I will be patient, tho' the blood may start 
 
 To cheek and brow : 
 Will hide my hatred, saying to my heart 
 
 " Not now ! " 
 
 I will be patient, tho' my mother's tears 
 
 Bow me with shame : 
 Will stay to purge these black polluted years 
 
 With flame. 
 
 E 2
 
 52 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 For doubly fierce will lightning flashing free 
 
 Avenge our sorrow. 
 And doubly deep the pool of crimson be 
 
 To-morrow.
 
 SONNET ON BRO WNING. 53 
 
 SONNET ON BROWNING. 
 
 How finished was his life, how strong and large ! 
 
 We have beholden him on passive wing 
 
 A thousand various worlds pavilioning ; 
 Anon, have seen him on a meadow marge, 
 Bent like a daffodil the dews surcharge ; 
 
 And lastly, we have watched him vanishing 
 
 As silently and softly as the King 
 Who glided daywards on the dusky barge. 
 
 Death meant to such a soul no sudden change, 
 No quick deliverance from sordid life ; 
 
 Alway his wings had been so brave and broad 
 That he would deem it nothing very strange 
 To find within his arms an angel-wife 
 Clad in the radiant holiness of God.
 
 54 GRANITE DUST, 
 
 A FACE. 
 
 GOD'S hand had made her face surpassing fair : 
 In love had lingered over every line. 
 
 Its purity made Passion kneel in prayer ; 
 
 The starry eyes beneath the midnight hair 
 Shone with a glory that was half divine. 
 
 Men, gazing, fancied that an aureole 
 
 Circled the whiteness of her perfect brow ; 
 And a new discontent was in their soul, 
 For something holy from her presence stole, 
 Drawing them nearer God, they knew not how.
 
 THE SCIENTIFIC DRAGON PARABLE. 55 
 
 THE SCIENTIFIC DRAGON PARABLE. 
 (With apologies to J. A. Symonds.) 
 
 THEY fable how the venom that a snake 
 
 Once swallowed with a toad, gave growth and gain 
 How, by the torture of continual pain 
 
 It caused half-dormant faculties to wake, 
 
 And pinions with a gradual birth to break 
 From the dark latency where they had lain, 
 Until the serpent-lethargy was slain, 
 
 And a live dragon mimic wings could shake. 
 
 And whoso eateth of Sin's poisoned fruit 
 Acquireth dragon- wings and dragon-breath, 
 
 And dragon-like alive, alert may be. 
 Nathless, such wings are but a parachute 
 To float him gently down the dark to death, 
 A miserable black monstrosity.
 
 56 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 THAT NIGHT. 
 
 THUNDER, with loosened limbs, lay huddled in a 
 
 swoon. 
 Lightning had slunk away. There was never a stir 
 
 in the air. 
 The trees stood statue-still as of motionless marble 
 
 hewn, 
 
 Save one high branch that was bent before the moon, 
 By the corse of an Absalom wind hanging heavily by 
 the hair. 
 
 Then my love took harp ; and her fingers flashed on 
 
 the golden strings : 
 
 Each hand like a living soul conscious and white 
 and free :
 
 THAT NIGHT. 57 
 
 Now fleet as flame, and prophetic of stormy, strenuous 
 
 things, 
 
 Now impotently beating as beat the tortured wings 
 Of a wounded gull outstretched on the wave of a 
 
 golden sea. 
 
 Her bosom-tide went and came to its limits of pearls 
 
 and lace, 
 As surge might ebb and flow on a crescent of silver 
 
 sand. 
 
 The moon moved thro' the clouds with even, passion- 
 less face, 
 
 Throwing ivy-shadows like kisses on her face ; 
 And a brown moth came and hovered over her 
 nimble hand. 
 
 O love, what a night was that ! Why did I let thee 
 
 go? 
 Never was coward's sin so terribly accurst !
 
 58 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 I left to the moon and the moth thy bosom's exquisite 
 
 snow ; 
 
 And to-day 1 sit alone in the ashes of my woe, 
 Withered, body and soul, with pain and famine an 
 
 thirst.
 
 WHITE HEATHER. 59 
 
 WHITE HEATHER. 
 
 O QUEEN, I bring thee heather white as a prayer : 
 Heather fostered beneath a German fir. 
 But, hush, I hear a voice in the wind demur 
 
 " Not white, but purple is meet for a queen to wear. 
 
 Bring purple heather for her royal hair, 
 Or crimson heather is not thy heart astir 
 With a tumult of crimson blood when you think of 
 her 
 
 So cold, so proud, and so surpassingly fair?" 
 
 O queen, and I answer the wind in gentle-wise, 
 Saying that I have chosen as embassy 
 
 This passionless heather, thinking it may devise 
 Some white, soft, suppliant way toward my plea 
 
 To tell how earth is hallowed by thine eyes, 
 How life grows holier in loving thee.
 
 60 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 NUG^E CANOPY. 
 
 HIDDEN 'mong the forest trees 
 Chaunt thy liquid melodies 
 
 Passionate nightingale ! 
 Sing, till night's ten thousand eyes 
 
 Fade and fail, 
 . Dim and pale, 
 As thou sang'st in Paradise 
 
 Long ago. 
 
 Sing in tender tremolo 
 
 Soft and slow, 
 
 Sad and low. 
 
 Sing a deep adagio, 
 
 For my heart is full of woe,
 
 NUG& CANOR^E 61 
 
 And mine eyes are full of tears 
 With the thought of bygone years 
 
 Tremolo, 
 
 Sad and slow.
 
 62 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 EPOS KENTPA AAKTIZfiN? 
 
 SUCH fear as Jacob felt at Jabbok's ford, 
 When all the livelong night his arms were locked 
 About an unknown foe whose patience mocked 
 
 His fiercest efforts till like knotted cord 
 
 His temple veins were swoll'n, and till the sward 
 Was trampled bare even such fear as his 
 My soul has felt, and in mine agonies 
 
 I tremble lest I wrestle with the Lord. 
 
 O thou strong wrestler, thou untiring foe, 
 Touch with thy death my sinews, make me know 
 
 If thou be God who strivest thus with me. 
 Then as the weary Jacob, even so 
 
 I will acknowledge and will worship Thee, 
 And, save thou bless me, never let Thee go.
 
 WHYT 63 
 
 WHY? 
 
 Lo ! it is day ; the land lies warm in light ; 
 The river ripples dreamily along 
 Thro' golden meadows, listening the song 
 
 Of happy birds that, with unweary flight, 
 
 Dart o'er a sky immaculately bright : 
 Thine arm is sinewy, thy heart is strong, 
 Thy life is affluent and free from wrong, 
 
 Why wish to see beyond that mist-clad height ? 
 
 Because the day will not for ever last, 
 Nor will our winding way for ever lie 
 Thro' sunny pasturage because the sky 
 May momently with clouds be overcast 
 Because when all these leas and lands are past, 
 'Mong the mists yonder 'tis our doom to die.
 
 64 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 THE POET'S LYRE. 
 
 THE poet's song is sad : his cithern strings 
 
 Are woven of the tresses of the dead. 
 This gold once fell upon a Dream's wide wings ; 
 
 And this was coiled upon Ideal's head ; 
 And this fell languidly round Passion's throat, 
 
 Down, down unto her billowy bosom-snow ; 
 While that string lisping out so sad a note 
 
 Made childhood beautiful an age ago. 
 
 Here are the locks of an unanswered Prayer, 
 
 Hopeless and hungerful the words it saith ; 
 And here a strand woven of Autumn's hair ; 
 
 While this belonged to a languished Faith. 
 But listen how that string can plead and plain 
 
 So the pale stars grow pitiful above. 
 Its strands are woven of a tress which Pain 
 
 Kept from the coffin of a mother's Love.
 
 PARTED. 65 
 
 PARTED. 
 
 AH me ! I cannot hear thy heart, 
 
 Thy lips are pale with conscious lies ; 
 
 Our souls have drifted far apart. 
 
 I cry, "O love, say where thou art," 
 And look for answer in thine eyes. 
 
 But lo, they coldly meet my gaze. 
 
 Thou hidest thine emotions well. 
 Hast all forgotten olden days 
 And olden thoughts and loves and ways ? 
 
 Can this be thee, my Claribel ? 
 
 Speak, for the sake of long ago. 
 
 Draw near me for its dear sad sake. 
 This is not thee, my love : I know 
 Thy soul could never shun me so. 
 
 Draw near me, or my heart will break.
 
 66 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 IN THE WHITE FUTURE. 
 
 IN the white future, in the coming years, 
 We will forget our sorrow and our woe : 
 
 We will forget these death-extorted tears. 
 Above yon open grave the turf will grow, 
 
 And flowers hide the failures and the fears 
 
 Of long ago. 
 
 In the white future, in the unborn days, 
 
 Warm winds will steal the clouds that hide the sun. 
 Over the ruins roughening our ways, 
 
 Lichen in green luxuriance will run, 
 And memory will only sing the praise 
 
 Of battles won.
 
 IN THE WHITE FUTURE. 67 
 
 In the dim future, when the spray is blown 
 From the near Jordan in our hair and eyes, 
 
 Shadows will show the stars that have been strewn 
 Over blue heaven, till we realize 
 
 How there are things invisible, unknown, 
 
 Beyond the skies. 
 
 F 2
 
 68 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 PITY. 
 
 O FOOLISH-HEARTED woman, triflerwith love and life, 
 Truly, I know not whether I scorn or pity or hate 
 
 Only that wintry winds hold melancholy strife 
 
 Round a temple's recent ruins and a garden deso- 
 late. 
 
 Scorn or pity or hate. Thine eyes are hard and cold. 
 Surely thou needest pity, and shall I refuse thee 
 
 mine? 
 O thou most miserable, who hast bartered love for 
 
 gold, 
 In loveless days remember my pity true is thine.
 
 THE D YING- DA Y OF DEA Tff, 6 g 
 
 THE DYING-DAY OF DEATH. 
 
 I, WHO had slept the dreamless sleep of Death 
 For aeons, wakened to a sense of pain, 
 
 Wrenched my stiff hands asunder, gasped for breath, 
 And was a man again. 
 
 The tatters of torn heaven overhead 
 
 Were swayed by hurrying wings and busy breath. 
 It was the resurrection of the dead, 
 
 The dying-day of Death. 
 
 The sun had halted half-way down the west ; 
 
 But in the shadow of the pendant blue, 
 Patient and calm amid the world's unrest, 
 
 There shone a star or two.
 
 70 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Weird voices wailed about the vexed sea ; 
 
 Cold corses lay upon the yellow sands, 
 Panting themselves to life and painfully 
 
 Moving their ashen hands. 
 
 And in a valley a black cloud was lying, 
 
 Lifted by some great giant's moaning breath. 
 
 I dared to ask " Is that old Thunder dying ? " 
 One whispered " Nay, but death." 
 
 Ev'n where I stood I heard him moan and gasp ; 
 
 Saw the cloud rising, falling like a sea ; 
 And watched the hungry fingers pluck and grasp 
 
 The rocks deliriously. 
 
 Then, moving onward for a little space, 
 I climbed a hill ; and on the plain below 
 
 Beheld astonied the hollow face 
 Of man's relentless foe.
 
 THE D YING-DA Y OF DEA 777. 7 1 
 
 About his temples, sinuous serpent veins 
 
 Seemed writhing; and his lips were thin and 
 starven ; 
 
 While by the chisel of a myriad pains 
 His great brow-dome was carven. 
 
 A broken scythe had fallen on the grass ; 
 
 I saw brown blood upon it from afar. 
 But one small corner was as bright as glass, 
 
 And had a mirrored star. 
 
 So huge the blade, it might have formed an arch 
 O'er Jordan ; and the heavy handle leant 
 
 Its weight against a plumed patriarch larch 
 Until it bowed and bent. 
 
 Lo, as I looked, death's talon-fingers locked 
 
 Convulsively ; his hands were heart- wards pressed : 
 
 The whole land on a sudden rolled and rocked, 
 Then lapsed into rest.
 
 72 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 There lay God's grimmest, greatest seivant Death. 
 
 There lay the old inexorable reaper, 
 Moanless and motionless, devoid of breath, 
 
 A cloud-enfolded sleeper.
 
 SONG. 73 
 
 SONG. 
 
 How will the night 
 
 Take flight ? 
 
 How will the bright 
 
 Daylight 
 
 Waken our sleep ? 
 
 Will it dart or creep 
 
 To kiss away our dream ? 
 
 Will its earliest gleam, 
 
 Zenith-high 
 
 In a cloudless sky, 
 
 Dazzle our eyes 
 
 With sudden surprise ?
 
 74 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 ii 
 
 Ah, nay, 'twill hide 
 
 Inside 
 
 A dusky cloud, 
 
 To shroud 
 
 Its gleam and glare, 
 
 Blindingly fair, 
 
 'Twill hide itself beneath 
 
 The dusky cloud of death 
 
 And softly, slowly, 
 
 White and holy, 
 
 From shadow creep 
 
 To waken our sleep.
 
 DAWN. 75 
 
 DAWN. 
 
 WHAT paucity of life contents thy eoul : 
 
 A dearth of song, a poverty of light ; 
 
 While, all around thee, dissonance and night, 
 Like a wild sea, reverberate and roll. 
 
 Fold down thy coward wings, but we will go 
 To prove God's work harmonious and whole, , 
 To seek the love that is the source of grief, 
 
 The light that shadoweth the world with woe ; 
 
 And doubt that stabs thro' darkness like a thorn 
 Will blossom to a star of white belief ; 
 And holy star-time fugitive and brief 
 
 Will brighten into morn.
 
 76 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 I dream the shadow has a lucent core, 
 
 I dream the discord will resolve in song ; 
 And this wild battle with belligerent wrong, 
 This universal riot and uproar, 
 
 Heard thro' a hush beholden from a height, 
 Will show their purpose as we upward soar. 
 Even now a silver-dusted wing of Dawn 
 
 Pierces the tenebrous cocoon of Night ; 
 
 And throbbing, palpitating far away 
 Comes music like an angel's orison. 
 Into the dark of doubt I must begone 
 
 To meet the songful day.
 
 NEVER AGAIN. 77 
 
 NEVER AGAIN. 
 
 DEATH reaped my hope and love long, long ago, 
 
 Stealing mine idol in his cruel wrath ; 
 
 And never more upon my life's hard path 
 Shall love spring forth in bloom. For tho' I know 
 The wounded tree in greater strength may grow, 
 
 Blossoming bright again ; and mown grass hath 
 
 Often a richer, rarer aftermath, 
 With my sad life it never can be so. 
 
 The loosened tendril ne'er will coil again ; 
 
 The withered rose will never raise her head 
 To meet the kisses of the warmest rain 
 
 That ever was from weeping heaven shed. 
 And so my heart, half-petulant with pain, 
 
 Cries " Speak no more of love, my love is 
 dead."
 
 7 8 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 RONDEAU. 
 
 " HERE lieth love." Deep lettered on a stone' 
 Are these few words, but never name and date 
 To say what heart would so commemorate 
 
 A dear dead love, or by what hand were strewn 
 
 The withered roses. Hither, thither blown, 
 A willow's branches quiver with a freight 
 Of melody that seems articulate ; 
 
 But men who listen merely catch a moan 
 
 " Here lieth love." 
 
 Mine are the roses and the dead love there. 
 
 But silence ! breathe no names ; it were not 
 
 meet 
 
 That she should know love perished by despair 
 Because her crimson lips were coldly sweet, 
 Because her face was passionlessly fair. 
 
 Nay, rather let her laugh when winds repeat 
 " Here lieth love."
 
 A POLEMIC. 79 
 
 A POLEMIC. 
 
 THINKEST thou that thy dimples deceive us, 
 
 O thou coquette ? 
 Tho.u wilt lure us, love us, leave us, 
 
 Laugh and forget. 
 
 Ah ! what is that, 
 
 My fair ? 
 
 A redbreast a rose 
 Plumage for your hat 
 
 Petals for your hair 
 
 You suppose 
 
 Nay, but, coquette that thou art, 
 
 Dost understand? 
 It is my heart 
 
 Thou hast in thy hand.
 
 8o GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Now then, toss it away. 
 Hearts blossom every day. 
 There are many more that beat 
 About thy feet. 
 Take one ! 
 Break one ! 
 
 What does it matter ? 
 
 Lovers will come and flatter, 
 
 Calling thee fair, 
 
 And will bear 
 
 A heart for thee to tatter 
 
 Or to wear. 
 
 But what dost thou give for these ? 
 Thine own heart's ease ? 
 Down there on thy knees ! 
 Thou hast bartered thine own heart's love. 
 
 Thou hast taken Love's name in vain, 
 And look in God's face above 
 Thou never canst again !
 
 A POLEMIC. 8r 
 
 Hearts are thy playthings : is it not so, 
 
 O coquette ? 
 But when we get love we do not know 
 
 The gift we get ! 
 
 Hearts are thy playthings here is mine ! 
 
 Why, thine eyes are wet ! 
 Love is holy and divine, 
 
 O coquette !
 
 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 LOVE ME. 
 
 How long did the sun's round passionate mouth 
 
 Kiss that rose's lips, I wonder ? 
 How long did the amorous wind from the south 
 
 Try to press her petals asunder ? 
 
 How long did the honey bee flit to and fro 
 
 Ere she threw her red vest apart 
 And showed a glory of gold and snow 
 
 Hoarded beside her heart ? 
 
 Longer far have I yearned for thy love 
 And flown round thy folded blossom. 
 
 Will pity or passion never move 
 The proud disdain of thy bosom ?
 
 LOVE ME. 83 
 
 Love me ! I loved thee long ago : 
 
 Love me ! the land is sunny : 
 Love me ! look, how the roses blow 
 
 And the bees are gathering honey. 
 
 o 2
 
 84 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 SEE her flutter and fly, 
 
 Flapping her wings beside us, 
 Telling what blisses betide us, 
 Only that time may deride us 
 By-and-by. 
 
 Watch her quiver and run, 
 
 Telling of blossoms and blisses, 
 Tempting with curtseys and kisses, 
 Offering love and caresses, 
 
 Summer and sun.
 
 HOPE. 85 
 
 Known of yore as a lie, 
 
 False in her charms and chatter, 
 Yet she will flirt and flatter ; 
 And we will follow (what matter 
 By-and-by ! )
 
 86 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 TWO SKETCHES. 
 
 i. 
 
 WITH dreamy eyes undimmed by care 
 And earnest mouth and dusky hair 
 More calm she is than halcyon air, 
 
 Upon a languorous night in June, 
 What time the scented breezes swoon, 
 And brown bats flit across the moon. 
 
 More pure she is than the petals white 
 That dimple the dark breasts of Night, 
 As tiny cherub-fingers might.
 
 TWO SKETCHES. 87 
 
 And cinctured with simplicity 
 She moveth like the singing sea, 
 And wotteth not the melody 
 
 That followeth her fairy feet, 
 And maketh sad existence sweet 
 With echoes of her bosom-beat. 
 
 n. 
 
 We tremble at the words she saith, 
 And wonder her audacious breath 
 Defying Love, despising Death. 
 
 And yielding neither moan nor prayer 
 To appease the skeleton Despair, 
 Whose fingers rattle in her hair.
 
 88 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 By weight of many woes unbowed, 
 Imperious and pale and proud, 
 She sitteth in a thunder-cloud. 
 
 And, peering thro' the purple mist, 
 Our 'wildered eyes behold her twist 
 The jagged lightning round her wrist.
 
 NO SAINT. 89 
 
 NO SAINT. 
 
 SOMETIMES her mouth with deep regret 
 
 Is grave, I know : 
 
 Sometimes her eyes with tears are wet 
 As a bedewed violet, 
 
 And overflow. 
 She has her human faults and yet 
 
 I love her so. 
 
 And have I therefore loved amiss 
 
 And been unwise ? 
 Nay, I have only deeper bliss : 
 I love her just because of this 
 
 Her sins and sighs ; 
 And doubly tenderly I kiss 
 
 Her mouth and eyes.
 
 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 HUNGER. 
 
 THE pain has maddened me. Thy sunken eyes 
 
 Bear witness to the cruel miseries 
 
 Of thirst and hunger aching on alway. 
 
 And I am drained of life-blood night and day 
 
 By clammy vampires of a cold remorse. 
 
 The vultures banqueting on yonder corse 
 
 Scent carrion already in my flesh, 
 
 And flap their wings and whet their beaks afresh, 
 
 Zeus, this hunger and this thirst of mine ! 
 
 1 have gulped fire as one would swallow wine, 
 Thinking to rid me of perpetual pains 
 
 But now a poison gallops in my veins, 
 And vampires dangle from my aching heart. 
 O Zeus, good Zeus, if pitiful thou art, 
 Have pity on my weary, withered life ;
 
 HUNGER. 9 r 
 
 Tempt me no more with vanity and strife. 
 
 Methougbt that near the gods that day I stood, 
 
 When fevered furious with lust for blood 
 
 Teeth grinning, sinews stiffened into brass 
 
 I reddened all the daisies in the grass, 
 
 Spilling men's souls. Was ever sword so fierce 
 
 As my good blade that day to cut and pierce ? 
 
 The giant Letus gashed me on the face : 
 
 I cried, " The gods of Hades give thee grace ! " 
 
 And, with a lightning double-handed blow, 
 
 Cut thro' his hauberk to his heart below. 
 
 Ha ! even as the sword-blade downward rang, 
 
 I can remember how a foeman sprang 
 
 And would have cut me to the crimson ground. 
 
 My blade was in the corse. The craven hound 
 
 Jeered as he struck me. In the blood he slipped. 
 
 His blade broke on my breastplate. Then I gripped 
 
 With both hands at his throat, and crushed the breath 
 
 Out at his mouth, until his eyes in death 
 
 Bulged from their sockets. Next, a dying fool, 
 
 As, to retrieve my sword, I stooped to pull,
 
 92 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Tore with his teeth my heel. Not long he bit, 
 I stamped upon his face and shattered it. 
 Gone was my pain. The curses of despair 
 The singing of the arrows in the air 
 Were sweet as music ; and the blood below 
 Was fairer than the rosiest afterglow 
 On the white summit of an Apennine. 
 Then came the night with revelling and wine. 
 They set upon my brow a gory wreath ; 
 We drank unto the gods of War and Death ; 
 Till in a heavy drunken sleep I lay 
 Nor wakened till the stars had gone away, 
 Save one that fainted in the yellow west. 
 Ah ! but that one was god-like in its rest, 
 So calm and passionless and white and pure. 
 I cowered in my tent, and washed the gore 
 Off breast and brow ; and, woe is me! again 
 Knew the imperious, impatient pain.
 
 HUNGER. 93 
 
 TO MARS. 
 
 CURSES and moaning, clash and rattle 
 Of sword and arrow on helm and shield ! 
 
 My soul was drunken with lust of battle 
 Till vision reeled : 
 
 Till vision reeled, and the world was red 
 
 As the marsh of blood that my sword had made. 
 
 God of War ! how the foe fell dead 
 Beneath my blade ! 
 
 God of War ! but I served thee well 
 With carnage ; and yet I live accurst 
 
 By a hunger that makes my heart a hell, 
 And by burning thirst.
 
 94 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Finding in battle no deliverance, 
 I turned to feed and feast my soul with dance 
 And song and rosy love among the flowers. 
 On silent summer nights, in fragrant bowers, 
 When on the sea the wind, as in a swoon, 
 Was stretched asleep I sat beneath the moon 
 And listened to the nightingale's melodious song. 
 Or thro' my halls fair women danced along 
 Voluptuously-bosomed, almond-eyed ; 
 And sang a hymn of love, and laughed, and sighed 
 And swayed like lilies in a Southern wind, 
 Until a sudden passion made me blind.
 
 HUNGER. 95 
 
 HYMN TO VENUS. 
 
 O QUEEN of Love, my soul's desire 
 Goddess divine, 
 Thy mouth on mine 
 Is sweet as wine 
 And fierce as fire, 
 Goddess divine, 
 My soul's desire. 
 
 Such songs they sang ; and all the midnight hours 
 
 Went dancing half-deliriously by 
 
 Thro' hot, unholy labyrinths of lust. 
 
 By a fierce fever raging in the flesh, 
 
 By a wild agitation of the blood 
 
 My soul was kindled into lurid flame ; 
 
 And for a moment its deep pain was lost ;
 
 96 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 But when the flame died out my soul was left 
 
 Doubly tormented. Oh, what woe is mine ! 
 
 What gnawing hunger and what burning thirst ! 
 
 So day succeeded day in riotous round, 
 
 All vanity and fire and restless pain ; 
 
 Till one March morning brought a man of stone 
 
 With passionless eagle eyes that pierced all things 
 
 And never wavered. Weary of unrest, 
 
 I summoned him and asked him whence his calm. 
 
 He answered " Wisdom." Then new hope was born. 
 
 I toiled like reaper in a harvest field 
 
 To heap my mind with sheaves of golden lore. 
 
 Day after day unrestingly I toiled ; 
 
 But, rnaugre everything, my soul was sick, 
 
 Nor all the revelations of the stars 
 
 Could heal its sickness. None the less I toiled 
 
 To win that peace of his ; till, yesterday, 
 
 I heard a sound of wailing in my hall; 
 
 And when a woman at my elbow said 
 
 " The man who had the face of stone is dead. 
 
 He slew himself because a vain amour
 
 HUNGER, 97 
 
 Had drawn him from his adamantine calm 
 
 And filled his passionless eyes with hungry pain ; " 
 
 Then " Curses, curses upon life ! " I cried, 
 
 " There is no peace in all this world for men, 
 
 Love, wisdom, war, are equally in vain. 
 
 Curses and curses on the cruel gods ! 
 
 Nay, nay, meseems there are no gods at all." 
 
 And lo, as thus I cursed, a slave arose, 
 With eyes so deeply in their sockets sunk 
 Under a bloodless breadth of polished brow, 
 He seemed a wretched runaway from Death, 
 And robbed me, by his woe, of rising wrath. 
 Mournful as winds that wander over graves 
 To gather briny tear-drops from the grass 
 Sounded his hollow, melancholy voice ; 
 While ever and anon a blue vein ran 
 Across his forehead like a startled snake ; 
 And ever and anon there glimmered light 
 In his dark orbits, as if in a cave 
 A star should blossom and then die away.
 
 98 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 " Truly," he said, " thy only god is Death ; 
 Never grey ashes garnered in an urn 
 So cold and dead and impotent as thou. 
 Dost think thy soul will rest content with aught 
 But sure belief in an Almighty God ? 
 Or dost thou think to find Him in the stars ? 
 Lo ! these are less to Him than summer dust 
 And eddy on His path, not ankle-high. 
 Can our soul-hunger ever be appeased ? 
 Can God, the Infinite, be found at all, 
 When every faculty and every sense 
 Is fitted to the finite ? God is not 
 A man, compact of mind and hands and eyes. 
 Mind is the product of a soul and brain, 
 Fast fettered by a hundred thousand laws ; 
 And, lacking laws, becomes no longer mind ; 
 While hands, however huge, are only hands, 
 Inept to juggle with a million stars ; 
 And eyes are only almsmen of the sun, 
 Too weak to win the secrets of a soul. 
 And if God be not man, can mortal mind
 
 HUNGER. 99 
 
 Conceive His nature, and from suns and stars 
 
 Infer a Maker ? Nay, meseemeth not ; 
 
 His makings must be nothing to His might, 
 
 Yet even His makings baffle us to guess 
 
 What may have made them. Surely man himself 
 
 Is the highest thing whereof he may conceive : 
 
 The only thing that he may trust and love. 
 
 And man the mighty Maker cannot be. 
 
 Must our souls then despair and quit the quest, 
 
 And be consumed in a hot hell of thirst ? 
 
 Nay, I espy a loophole to escape. 
 
 A perfect man were an imperfect God ; 
 
 A perfect man could make no suns nor stars 
 
 Nor souls, and yet why should not mighty God 
 
 Be partially revealed in perfect man ? 
 
 The same strong Spirit that inspires the sun 
 
 Might manifest His strength in human flesh, 
 
 Might move upon the level of our lives 
 
 And partly show Himself in deeds and words 
 
 Divinely perfect. (For I dare to hold 
 
 Manhood admits perfection, maugre laws 
 
 H 2
 
 ioo GRANITE DUST. 
 
 That limit and restrain it. See, this rose 
 Is perfect tho' it lacks the gift of song ; 
 This lily tho' it wavers in the wind ; 
 And manhood may be perfect tho' God's soul 
 Can only with the brain and hands and eyes 
 Accomplish limited and lawful things.) 
 Great God might be revealed in perfect man ; 
 And in such partial revelation seen, 
 And in such perfect imperfection known, 
 Provisionally we might worship Him, 
 Beheld as in a torso. 
 
 " But you say 
 
 That there is no such torso of great God ; 
 That manhood is the attribute of flesh, 
 The energizings of a brain-bound soul 
 Working with certain tools in certain ways, 
 While all the works of God deny the tools 
 And timid methods of humanity : 
 And God in nothing has been known as man. 
 Nay, nay, O King! now hearken and believe.
 
 HUNGER. 10 1 
 
 I said such torso might be : but behold 
 
 Such torso has been. God's eternal soul 
 
 Has entered and animated mortal flesh, 
 
 Has taken its limits, frailties and laws, 
 
 And brought Itself within the present scope 
 
 Of human comprehension, human love. 
 
 This knowab'.e, lovable, visible God was Christ 
 
 That Christ we crucified upon a cross. 
 
 No human soul had ever spoken so, 
 
 With such oracular authority, 
 
 With such a calm, original contempt 
 
 For falsehoods fashionable in the world. 
 
 Strange ! strange ! how strange that all we men 
 
 Thro' arduous centuries had failed to find 
 
 Truths that the life and words of Christ have shown 
 
 As bright and fair and certain as the sun. 
 
 By a supreme sincerity of thought, 
 
 He pierced into the spiritual verities 
 
 That lay around Him ; and His holy words 
 
 We recognize indisputably true. 
 
 The universal and conventional plan,
 
 T02 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 Whereon all gods were fashioned, has been shown 
 
 False and mistaken by His humble life, 
 
 A life so different from the life we deemed 
 
 A God would lead, and yet in deed and word 
 
 God-like beyond the thoughts and dreams of men 
 
 In power and beauty. Ah ! we know Him God ; 
 
 We love Him : learn of Him ; and, where He leads, 
 
 Willingly follow tho' it be to death. 
 
 ' I am the Way, the Truth, the Life,' He said, 
 
 The only Way thro' Truth to perfect Life, 
 
 To love and knowledge of the God unseen. 
 
 " God is to us three Persons, yet one God. 
 As Christ, our souls may love and worship Him ; 
 And by the love and worship grow alive 
 To God the Spirit ; while God infinite, 
 Suggested by the Spirit and the Son, 
 And partly known in these, we love thro' faith." 
 
 So spake the slave, then vanished like a dream ; 
 And none can tell me whither he has gone. 
 O Zeus ! this hunger and this thirst of mine !
 
 EYES. 103 
 
 EYES. 
 
 AH, sweet and fair, how bright thine eyes can~t>e ! 
 Like sunlight dancing on a sapphire sea, 
 They dazzle ah, they dazzle, dazzle me. 
 
 Ah, sweet, be pitiful ! Thy bright eyes gleam, 
 They thrill me thro' and thro', until I seem 
 In some delirious, delicious dream 
 
 To lose my lips among thy temple-hair. 
 
 Be pitiful, I pray thee, lady fair, 
 
 For such a dream is a disguised despair, 
 
 Who sometime will waylay me in the night 
 And strangle me his fingers talon-tight, 
 His bony knuckles resolute and white. 
 
 Ah, sweet, be pitiful ! So bright thine eyes can be, 
 As down to death to dazzle, dazzle me.
 
 io 4 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 AH, what a song was that ! How piercingly pas- 
 sionate ! 
 Was it a song or a soul ? Surely her soul flew 
 
 there, 
 Stronger and fleeter than flame, upward to heaven's 
 
 gate- 
 Rosy with her lips, pure, and proud, and fair, 
 Crowned with golden stars, winged with eager 
 prayer.
 
 A ROSEBUD. 105 
 
 A ROSEBUD. 
 
 A ROSEBUD waiting for sufficient sun 
 To free it from its bondage is my heart. 
 
 O bright eyes, shine on it till one by one 
 The winter-wedded petals fall apart ! 
 
 Not all the blandishment of azure skies 
 To tempt it from its lethargy has power ; 
 
 Only the summer in thy sunny eyes 
 Can make the folded rosebud burst in flower. 
 
 Not the most genial breezes of the South 
 Can quicken it and make its leaves expand ; 
 
 Only sweet kisses of thy crimson mouth, 
 And warm caresses of thy lily hand.
 
 106 GRANITE DUST. 
 
 O bright eyes, shine ! O sweet red lips, be kind ! 
 
 O lily fingers, touch ! O fragrant breath, 
 Breathe on it like a warm delicious wind, 
 
 And save it from the cold Desire of Death. 
 
 In love or in compassion save the bud, 
 Else shut, and hard, and cold for evermore 
 
 O, lady, sting and stir its stagnant blood, 
 Laying a burning kiss within its core ! 
 
 O, come, complete it to a perfect rose, 
 Setting it from its winter-fetters free ; 
 
 And every leaf unfolding will disclose 
 A passionate immortal love for thee.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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