LIBRART UNIVERSITY OF CALIFOWUA RIVERSIDE ODES AND OTHER POEMS BY WILLIAM WATSON Poems. Fifth edition, 5x. Lachrymae Musarum. Fourth edition, i^s. 6d. Lyric Love, an Anthology. Second edition, 2s. 6d. net. The Prince's Quest. Second edition, ^. 6d. net. The Eloping Angels. Second edition, y. 6d. net. Excursions in Criticism. Second edition, ^s. net. Copyrighted in the United States All rights reserved ODES AND OTHER POEMS BY WILLIAM WATSON I LONDON : JOHN LANE, VIGO ST. NEW YORK : MACMILLAN &> CO. 1895 7R575a 033 Fourth Edition Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty CONTENTS PAGE TO RICHARD HOLT HUTTON i Yes, I have had my griefs ; and yet TO H. D. TRAILL 3 Traill, at whose board 'tis good to sit TO ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON ... 13 In that grave shade august TO LICINIUS 18 Licinius, wouldst thou wisely steer THE FIRST SKYLARK OF SPRING .... 21 Two worlds hast thou to dwell in, Sweet LAKELAND ONCE MORE 26 Region, separate, sacred, of torrent of mere, and of mountain V vi CONTENTS PAGE DOMINE, QUO VADIS? 33 Darkening the azure roof of Nero's world VITA NUOVA 45 Long hath she slept, forgetful of delight THE FRONTIER 48 At the hushed brink of twilight, — when, as though SONNET 50 I think the immortal servants of mankind THE PROTEST 52 Bid me no more to other eyes A STUDY IN CONTRASTS 54 By cliff and chine, and hollow-nestling wood SONG IN IMITATION OF THE ELIZABETHANS . 60 Sweetest sweets that time hath rifled TO A FRIEND , . 62 True lover of the Past, who dost not scorn AFTER THE TITANS 64 England, in good Victoria's latter reign CONTENTS vii PAGE PEACE AND WAR 66 The sleek sea, gorged and sated, basking lies THE IDEAL POPULAR LEADER .... 68 He is one who counts no public toil so hard TO A LADY RECOVERED FROM A DANGEROUS SICKNESS 70 Life plucks thee back as by the golden hair TO 71 Forget not, brother singer ! that though Prose THE RIVALS 72 Man's good and evil angels came to dwell A NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM 74 God save our ancient land THE SIXTY-FIVE ELEMENTS 77 Master, I marvel not at all, that these A NEW YEAR'S PRAYER 79 In the blanched night, when all the world lay frore FRANCE 82 Light-hearted heroine of tragic story viii CONTENTS PAGE THE SOVEREIGN POET 84 He sits above the clang and dust of Time MALIGN BEAUTY .86 A face like morning, with a heart of night TO ONE WHO HAD WRITTEN IN DERISION OF THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY ... 88 Dismiss not so, with light, hard phrase and cold CHRISTMAS DAY 90 The morn broke bright : the thronging people wore THE WORLD IN ARMOUR i. Under this shade of crimson wings abhorred . . 92 ii. When London's Plague, that day by day enrolled . 94 iii. A moment's fantasy, the vision came . . .96 TO AUBREY DE VERB 98 Poet, whose grave and strenuous lyre is still WRITTEN IN A COPY OF MR. STEVENSON'S 'CATRIONA' 100 Glorious Sir Walter, Shakespeare's brother-brain CONTENTS ix PAGB TELL ME NOT NOW .102 Tell me not now, if love for love NIGHT ON CURBAR EDGE 104 No echo of m^n's life pursues my ears THE SAINT AND THE SATY-R 106 Saint Anthony the eremite LINES WRITTEN IN RICHMOND PARK . . 108 Lady, were you but here ! A RIDDLE OF THE THAMES . . . . .110 At windows that from Westminster ODES TO RICHARD HOLT HUTTON Yes, I have had my griefs ; and yet I think that when I shake off life's annoy, I shall, in my last hour, forget All things that were not joy. Have I not watched the starry throngs Dance, and the soul of April break in bud ? Have I not taken Schubert's songs Into my brain and blood ? A ODES I have seen the morn one laugh of gold ; I have known a mind that was a match for Fate ; I have wondered what the heavens can hold Than simplest love more great. And not uncrowned with honours ran My days, and not without a boast shall end ! For I was Shakespeare's countryman ; And wert not thou my friend ? TO H. D. TRAILL Traill, at whose board 'tis good to sit, And take no thought of hours that flit Fledged with the tongues of bard and wit- (Though none, or few, The latter title may befit So well as you) — 'Tis now a twelve-months' space and more Since feet of mine have sought your door, There where one fancies London's roar Long leagues away, ODES And Thames an old-time-haunted shore Keeps to this day. For I, with course 'twere hard to trace, Have southward, northward, set my face, Coy to the vast and vague embrace Of London's arms, The siren's ail-too liberal grace And venal charms. Daily on matron, man, and maid. The dome of Wren hath cast its shade, But I beyond its beck have strayed By land and sea ; And you a hundred mots have made Unheard by me ! TO II. D. TRAILL The loser I. Yet mine some gain From vagrant hours of sun and rain And steps that still by mount or plain Carried a mind To one thing constant, as the vane Is to the wind — The service of that mistress hard To whom a fixed and sole regard Your vowed and dedicated bard Dares not refuse, Would he at last the least reward Win from his Muse. For still we rhymers, great or small, Must gather, would we live at all, ODES Such casual manna as may fall, A niggard meed, On mortals whom the immortals call But seldom feed. And so, perhaps with fond pretence That to the force of sheer, immense, Importunate lyric opulence Our lays are due, We publish all our soul for pence — Ay me, how few ! Happiest and best of singers he, Who in Art's bondage greatly free, Can harvest, from all things that be, Grist for the mill TO H. D. TRAILL / Whose wheel a copious Castaly Turns at his will. Whate'er we know, whate'er we dream, All things that are, all things that seem, All that in Nature's Academe Her graduates learn, Was Bacon's province, Shakespeare's theme, Goethe's concern. The poem, well the poet knows, In ambush lurks where'er he goes, — Lisps hidden in each wind that blows. Laughs in each wave. Sighs from the bosom of the rose, Wails from the grave. ODES And Orphic laws of lute and verse All the symphonious worlds coerce, That hour by hour their parts rehearse, Winds, strings, and reeds. In this orchestral universe The Maestro leads. But though all life and death and birth, And all the heaven's enzoning girth. Earth, and the waters 'neath the earth. Are Song's domain, Nor aught so lowly but is worth The loftiest strain, — 'Tis from those moods in which Life stands With feet earth-planted, yet with hands TO H. D. TRAILL Stretched toward visionary lands, Where vapours lift A moment, and aerial strands Gleam through the rift, The poet wins, in hours benign, At older than the Delphic shrine, Those intimations faint and fine. To which belongs Whatever character divine Invest his songs. And could we live more near allied To cloud and mountain, wind and tide, Cast this unmeaning coil aside, And go forth free. lo ODES The World our goal, Desire our guide, — We then might see Those master moments grow less rare. And oftener feel that nameless air Come rumouring from we know not where ; And touch at whiles Fantastic shores, the fringes fair Of fairy isles. And hail the mystic bird that brings News from the inner courts of things, The eternal courier-dove whose wings Are never furled ; And hear the bubbling of the springs That feed the world. TO H. D. TRAILL 11 You smile at this too soaring strain ? Well, in the smile is no disdain ; And if a more terrestrial vein Befit my rhyme — I promise not to soar again, At least, this time. And sooth to say, a humbler end This verse was meant to serve, O friend : For since to you I may not wend (Such leagues deter The else not laggard feet), I send This messenger ; And bid him tarry not, but flee, And greet you well where'er you be ; 12 ODES And pray he may not piteously Faint by the road — Of good regards for thine and thee So large his load. TO ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON In that grave shade august That round your Eton. clings, To you the centuries must Be visible corporate things, And the high Past appear Affably real and near, For all its grandiose airs, caught from the mien of Kings. The new age stands as yet Half built against the sky, Open to every threat Of storms that clamour by : 13 14 ODES Scaffolding veils the walls, And dim dust floats and falls, As, moving to and fro, their tasks the masons ply. But changeless and complete, Rise unperturbed and vast, Above our din and heat, The turrets of the Past, Mute as that city asleep, Lulled with enchantments deep, Far in Arabian dreamland built where all things last. Who loves not to explore That palace of Old Time, Awed by the spires that soar In ghostly dusk sublime. TO ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON 15 And gorgeous-windowed halls, And leagues of pictured walls, And dungeons that remember many a crimson crime ? Yet, in those phantom towers Not thine, not mine, to dwell, Rapt from the living hours By some rich lotus-spell ; And if our lute obey A mode of yesterday, 'Tis that we deem 'twill prove to-morrow's mode as well. This neighbouring joy and woe — This present sky and sea — These men and things we know, Whose touch we would not flee — i6 ODES To US, O friend, shall long Yield aliment of song : Life as I see it lived is great enough for me. In high relief against That reverend silence set, Wherein your days are fenced From the world's peevish fret, . There breaks on old Earth's ears The thunder of new years. Rousing from ancient dreams the Muse's anchoret. Well if the coming time, With loud and strident tongue, Hush not the sound of rhyme, Drown not the song half sung, TO ARTHUR CHRISTOTHER BENSON 17 Ev'n as a dissonant age Choked with polemic rage The starriest voice that e'er on Engh'sh ears hath rung, And bade her seer a while Pause and put by the bard, Till this tormented isle, With feuds and factions jarred, Some leisure might regain To hear the long-pent strain Re-risen from storm and fire, immortal and unmarred. B TO LICINIUS HORACE, ODES, II., X. LICINIUS, wouldst thou wisely steer The pinnace of thy soul, Not always trust her without fear Where deep-sea billows roll ; Nor, to the sheltered beach too near, Risk shipwreck on the shoal. Who sees in fortune's golden mean All his desires comprised, Midway the cot and court between Hath well his life devised ; 18 TO LICINIUS 19 For riches, hath not envied been, Nor, for their lack, despised. Most rocks the pine that soars afar. When leaves are tempest-whirled. Direst the crash when turrets are In dusty ruin hurled. The thunder loveth best to scar The bright brows of the world. The steadfast mind, that to the end Is fortune's victor still, Hath yet a fear, though Fate befriend, A hope, though all seem ill, Jove can at will the winter send. Or call the spring at will. 20 ODES Full oft the darkest day may be Of morrows bright the sire. His bow not everlastingly Apollo bends in ire. At times the silent Muses he Wakes with his dulcet lyre. When life's straits roar and hem thee sore, Be bold ; naught else avails. But when thy canvas swells before Too proudly prospering gales, For once be wise with coward's lore, And timely reef thy sails. THE FIRST SKYLARK OF SPRING Two worlds hast thou to dwell in, Sweet, — The virginal, untroubled sky, And this vext region at my feet. — Alas, but one have I ! To all my songs there clings the shade, The dulling shade, of mundane care. They amid mortal mists are made, — Thine, in immortal air. My heart is dashed with griefs and fears ; My song comes fluttering, and is gone. 21 22 ODES O high above the home of tears, Eternal Joy, sing on ! Not loftiest bard, of mightiest mind, Shall ever chant a note so pure, Till he can cast this earth behind And breathe in heaven secure. We sing of Life, with stormy breath That shakes the lute's distempered strmg We sing of Love, and loveless Death Takes up the song we sing. And born in toils of Fate's control. Insurgent from the womb, we strive With proud, unmanumitted soul To burst the golden gyve. THE FIRST SKYLARK OF SPRING 23 Thy spirit knows nor bounds nor bars ; On thee no shreds of thraldom hang : Not more enlarged, the morning stars Their great Te Deum sang. But I am fettered to the sod, And but forget my bonds an hour ; In amplitude of dreams a god, A slave in dearth of power. And fruitless knowledge clouds my soul, And fretful ignorance irks it more. Thou sing'st as if thou knew'st the whole, And lightly held'st thy lore ! Somewhat as thou, Man once could sing, In porches of the lucent morn 24 ODES Ere he had felt his lack of wing, Or cursed his iron bourn. The springtime bubbled in his throat, The sweet sky seemed not far above, And young and lovesome came the note ; — Ah, thine is Youth and Love ! Thou sing'st of what he knew of old, And dreamlike from afar recalls ; In flashes of forgotten gold An orient glory falls. And as he listens, one by one Life's utmost splendours blaze more nigh ; Less inaccessible the sun, Less alien grows the sky. THE FIRST SKYLARK OF SPRING 25 For thou art native to the spheres, And of the courts of heaven art free, And earnest to his temporal ears News from eternity ; And lead'st him to the dizzy verge, And lur'st him o'er the dazzling line. Where mortal and immortal merge, And human dies divine. LAKELAND ONCE MORE Region separate, sacred, of mere, and of ghyllj and of mountain, Garrulous, petulant beck, sinister, laughterless tarn ; Haunt of the vagabond feet of my fancy for ever reverting, Haunt and home of my heart, Cumbrian valleys and fells ; Yours of old was the beauty that rounded my hours with a nimbus, Touched my youth with bloom, tender and magical light ; 26 LAKELAND ONCE MORE ^^ You were my earliest passion, and when shall my fealty falter? Ah, when Helvellyn is low I ah, when Winander is dry ! For had I not dwelt where Nature but prattled familiar language, Trite the theme and the word, prose of the hedges and lanes ? Here she spake to my spirit in lofty and resonant numbers, Rhythms of epical mood, silences great as her song. Time hath scattered his gifts ; and Death, he hath taken his tribute : East and west have I fared, hitherward, thither- ward blown ; 28 ODES Watched in jewelled midnight the Mediterranean twinkling ; Watched, from Como's wave, pinnacled summits on fire ; Heard the tempest beleaguer the bases of savage Tantallon ; Heard the thundering tide crash on Devonian shores : And fair and stormy fortune my life's little pinnace hath weathered, Shattering onsets of joy, shocks of calamity, borne ; Mine hath been good unstinted, nor niggard my portion of evil ; Friendships mine and hates, love and a whisper of fame : LAKELAND ONCE MORE 29 But ever to you I return, O land in the dusk of whose portals Rustles my Past like leaves, memories brush me as wings. Meets me my alien phantom, the self that is dead, that is vanished, Echoes meet me and dreams, shadows that sigh and depart ; And ever, O meres and valleys, an aureole haunts you of roselight. Glamour of luminous hours, wraith of my passion of old, And the brows of eternal Helvellyn are flushed with a virginal rapture. Lit with the glow of my youth, crimsoned with dawn of my day. DOMINE, QUO VADIS? DOMINE, QUO VADIS? A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CHURCH Darkening the azure roof of Nero's world, From smouldering Rome the smoke of ruin curled ; And the fierce populace went clamouring — ' These Christian dogs, 'tis they have done this thing ! ' So to the wild wolf Hate were sacrificed The panting, huddled flock whose crime was Christ. C 34 DOMINE, QUO VADIS? Now Peter lodged in Rome, and rose each morn Looking to be ere night in sunder torn By those blind hands that with inebriate zeal Burned the strong Saints, or broke them on the wheel, Or flung them to the lions to make mirth For dames that ruled the lords that ruled the earth. And unto him, their towering rocky hold. Repaired those sheep of the Good Shepherd's fold In whose white fleece as yet no blood or foam Bare witness to the ravening fangs of Rome. * More light, more cheap,' they cried, ' we hold our lives Than chaff the flail or dust the whirlwind drives : A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CHURCH 35 As chaff they are winnowed and as dust are blown ; Nay, they are nought ; but priceless is thine own. Not in yon streaming shambles must thou die ; We counsel, we entreat, we charge thee, fly ! ' And Peter answered : ' Nay, my place is here ; Through the dread storm, this ship of Christ I steer. Blind is the tempest, deaf the roaring tide, And I, His pilot, at the helm abide.' Then one stood forth, the flashing of whose soul Enrayed his presence like an aureole. Eager he spake ; his fellows, ere they heard, Caught from his eyes the swift and leaping word. 36 DOMINE, QUO VADIS? ' Let US, His vines, be in the wine-press trod, And poured a beverage for the h'ps of God ; Or, ground as wheat of His eternal field, Bread for His table let our bodies yield. Behold, the Church hath other use for thee ; Thy safety is her own, and thou must flee. Ours be the glory at her call to die, But quick and whole God needs His great ally.' And Peter said : ' Do lords of spear and shield Thus leave their hosts uncaptained on the field. And from some mount of prospect watch afar The havoc of the hurricane of war ? Yet, if He wills it. . . . Nay, my task is plain, — To serve, and to endure, and to remain. But weak I stand, and I beseech you all Urge me no more, lest at a touch I fall.' A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CHURCH 37 There knelt a noble youth at Peter's feet, And like a viol's strings his voice was sweet. A suppliant angel might have pleaded so, Crowned with the splendour of some starry woe. He said : ' My sire and brethren yesterday The heathen did with ghastly torments slay. Pain, like a worm, beneath their feet they trod. Their souls went up like incense unto God. An offering richer yet, can Heaven require ? live, and be my brethren and my sire.' And Peter answered : ' Son, there is small need That thou exhort me to the easier deed. Rather I would that thou and these had lent Strength to uphold, not shatter, my intent. Already my resolve is shaken sore. 1 pray thee, if thou love me, say no more.' 38 DOMINE, QUO VADIS? And even as he spake, he went apart, Somewhat to hide the brimming of his heart, Wherein a voice came flitting to and fro, That now said ' Tarry ! ' and anon said * Go ! ' And louder every moment, * Go ! ' it cried, And * Tarry ! ' to a whisper sank, and died. And as a leaf when summer is o'erpast Hangs trembling ere it fall in some chance blast. So hung his trembling purpose and fell dead ; And he arose, and hurried forth, and fled, Darkness conniving, through the Capuan Gate, From all that heaven of love, that hell of hate, To the Campania glimmering wide and still. And strove to think he did his Master's will. A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CHURCH 39 But spectral eyes and mocking tongues pur- sued, And with vague hands he fought a phantom brood. Doubts, like a swarm of gnats, o'erhung his flight, And 'Lord,' he prayed, 'have I not done aright ? Can I not, living, more avail for Thee Than whelmed in yon red storm of agony ? The tempest, it shall pass, and I remain, Not from its fiery sickle saved in vain. Are there no seeds to sow, no desert lands Waiting the tillage of these eager hands. That I should beastlike 'neath the butcher fall. More fruitlessly than oxen from the stall ? 40 DOMINE, QUO VADIS? Is earth so easeful, is men's hate so sweet, Are thorns so welcome unto sleepless feet, Have death and heaven so feeble lures, that I, Choosing to live, should win rebuke thereby ? Not mine the dread of pain, the lust of bliss ! Master who judgest, have I done amiss ? ' Lo, on the darkness brake a wandering ray : A vision flashed along the Appian Way. Divinely in the pagan night it shone — A mournful Face — a Figure hurrying on — Though haggard and dishevelled, frail and worn, A King, of David's lineage, crowned with thorn. A LEGEND OF THE EARLY CHURCH 41 ' Lord, whither farest ? ' Peter, wondering, cried. ' To Rome,' said Christ, ' to be re-crucified.' Into the night the vision ebbed Hke breath ; And Peter turned, and rushed on Rome and death. SONNETS, LYRICS, AND MISCELLANEOUS PIECES VITA NUOVA Long hath she slept, forgetful of delight : At last, at last, the enchanted princess, Earth, Claimed with a kiss by Spring the adventurer, In slumber knows the destined lips, and thrilled Through all the deeps of her unageing heart With passionate necessity of joy. Wakens, and yields her loveliness to love. O ancient streams, O far-descended woods Full of the fluttering of melodious souls ; O hills and valleys that adorn yourselves In solemn jubilation ; winds and clouds, 45 46 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. Ocean and land in stormy nuptials clasped, And all exuberant creatures that acclaim The Earth's divine renewal : lo, I too With yours would mingle somewhat of glad song. I too have come through wintry terrors, — yea, Through tempest and through cataclysm of soul Have come, and am delivered. Me the Spring, Me also, dimly with new life hath touched. And with regenerate hope, the salt of life ; And I would dedicate these thankful tears To whatsoever Power beneficent, Veiled though his countenance, undivulged his thought, Hath led me from the haunted darkness forth Into the gracious air and vernal morn, And suffers me to know my spirit a note VITA NUOVA 47 Of this great chorus, one with bird and stream And voiccful mountain, — nay, a string, how jarred And all but broken ! of that lyre of life Whereon himself, the master harp-player, Resolving all its mortal dissonance To one immortal and most perfect strain, Harps without pause, building with song the world. March 18, 1893. THE FRONTIER At the hushed brink of twih'ght, — when, as though Some solemn journeying phantom paused to lay An ominous finger on the awestruck day, Earth holds her breath till that great presence go, — A moment comes of visionary glow, Pendulous 'twixt the gold hour and the grey, Lovelier than these, more eloquent than they Of memory, foresight, and life's ebb and flow. So have I known, in some fair woman's face. While viewless yet was Time's more gross imprint, 48 THE FRONTIER 49 The first, faint, hesitant, elusive hint Of that invasion of the vandal years Seem deeper beauty than youth's cloudless grace. Wake subtler dreams, and touch me nigh to tears. D SONNET I THINK the immortal servants of mankind, Who, from their graves, watch by how slow degrees The World-Soul greatens with the centuries. Mourn most Man's barren levity of mind. The ear to no grave harmonies inclined, The witless thirst for false wit's worthless lees, The laugh mistimed in tragic presences, The eye to all majestic meanings blind. O prophets, martyrs, saviours, ye were great, All truth being great to you : ye deemed Man more 50 SONNET 51 Than a dull jest, God's ennui to amuse : The world, for you, held purport : Life ye wore Proudly, as Kings their solemn robes of state ; And humbly, as the mightiest monarchs use. THE PROTEST Bid me no more to other eyes With wandering worship fare, And weave my numbers garland-wise To crown another's hair. On me no more a mandate lay Thou wouldst not have me to obey ! Bid me no more to leave unkissed That rose-wreathed porch of pearl. Shall I, where'er the winds may list, Give them my life to whirl ? 52 THE PROTEST S3 Perchance too late thou wilt be fain Thy exile to recall — in vain Bid me no more from thee depart, For in thy voice to-day I hear the tremor of thy heart Entreating me to stay ; I hear . . . nay, silence tells it best, O yielded lips, O captive breast ! A STUDY IN CONTRASTS By cliff and chine, and hollow-nestling wood Thrilled with the poignant savour of the sea, All in the crisp light of a wintry morn. We walked, my friend and I, preceded still By one whose silken and voluminous suit, His courtly ruff, snow-pure 'mid golden tan, His grandly feathered legs slenderly strong, The broad and flowing billow of his breast. His delicate ears and superfine long nose, With that last triumph, his distinguished tail, In their collective glory spoke his race The flower of Collie aristocracy, 64 A STUDY IN CONTRASTS 55 Yet, from his traits, how absent that reserve. That stilhiess on a base of power, which marks, In men and mastiffs, the selectly sprung! For after all, his high-life attributes, His trick of doing nothing with an air, His salon manners and society smile, Were but skin-deep, factitious, and you saw The bustling despot of the mountain flock, And pastoral dog-of-all-work, underlie The fashionable modern lady's pet, — Industrial impulses bereft of scope. Duty and discipline denied an aim, Ancestral energy and strenuousness In graceful trifling frittered all away. Witness the depth of his concern and zeal About minutest issues : shall we take S6 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. This path or that ? — it matters not a straw — < But just a moment unresolved we stand, And all his personality, from ears To tip of tail, is interrogative ; And when from pure indifference we decide, How he vociferates ! how he bounds ahead ! With what enthusiasm he ratifies, Applauds, acclaims our choice 'twixt right and left. As though some hoary problem over which The world had puckered immemorial brows. Were solved at last, and all life launched anew ! These and a thousand tricks and ways and traits I noted as of Demos at their root, And foreign to the staid, conservative, A STUDY IN CONTRASTS 57 Came-over-with-the-Conqueror type of mind. And then, his nature, how impressionable. How quickly moved to Collie mirth or woe, Elated or dejected at a word ! And how unlike your genuine Vere de Vere's Frigid, indifferent, half-ignoring glance At everything outside the sacred pale Of things De Veres have sanctioned from the Flood, The unweariable curiosity And universal open-mindedness Of that all-testing, all-inquisitive nose ! II So, to my friend's house, back we strolled ; and there — 58 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. We loitering in the garden — from her post Of purview at a window, languidly A great Angora watched his Collieship, And throned in monumental calm, surveyed His effervescence, volatility, Clamour on slight occasion, fussiness. Herself immobile, imperturbable. Like one whose vision seeks the Immanent Behind these symbols and appearances, The face within this transitory mask. And as her eyes with indolent regard Viewed his upbubblings of ebullient life, She seemed the Orient Spirit incarnate, lost In contemplation of the Western Soul ! Ev'n so, methought, the genius of the East, Reposeful, patient, undemonstrative. A STUDY IN CONTRASTS 59 Luxurious, enigmatically sage, Dispassionately cruel, might look down On all the fever of the Occident ; — The brooding mother of the unfilial world, Recumbent on her own antiquity. Aloof from our mutations and unrest, Alien to our achievements and desires. Too proud alike for protest or assent When new thoughts thunder at her massy door; — Another brain dreaming another dream, Another heart recalling other loves, Too grey and grave for our adventurous hopes, For our precipitate pleasures too august, And in majestic taciturnity Refraining her illimitable scorn. SONG IN IMITATION OF THE ELIZABETHANS Sweetest sweets that time hath rifled, Live anew on lyric tongue — Tresses with which Paris trifled, Lips to Antony's that clung. These surrender not their rose. Nor their golden puissance those. Vain the envious loam that covers Her of Egypt, her of Troy : Helen's, Cleopatra's lovers Still desire them, still enjoy. 60 SONG IN IMITATION OF THE ELIZABETHANS 6i Fate but stole what Song restored : Vain the aspic, vain the cord. Idly clanged the sullen portal, Idly the sepulchral door : Fame the mighty, Love the immortal, These than foolish dust are more : Nor may captive Death refuse Homage to the conquering Muse. TO A FRIEND UNITING ANTIQUARIAN TASTES WITH PROGRESSIVE POLITICS True lover of the Past, who dost not scorn To give good heed to what the Future saith, — Drinking the air of two worlds at a breath, Thou livest not alone in thoughts outworn. But ever helpest the new time be born. Though with a sigh for the old order's death ; As clouds that crown the night that perisheth Aid in the high solemnities of morn. Guests of the ages, at To-morrow's door Why shrink we ? The long track behind us lies, 62 TO A FRIEND 63 The lamps gleam and the music throbs before, Bidding us enter : and I count him wise, Who loves so well Man's noble memories He needs must love Man's nobler hopes yet more. AFTER THE TITANS England, in good Victoria's latter reign, Two potent councillors by turns have led, Little alike in build of heart or head. Yet owning this resemblance, — that the twain Are visibly of Britain's ancient strain, Sprung of the lineage of her stalwart dead, Strong souls and massive, such as England bred In the brave day that cometh not again. To these succeeds another, newer race, Men light and slight, on narrower scale designed, «4 AFTER THE TITANS 65 Offspring and image of the change we trace In art, arms, action, manners, morals, mind, — The burly oak departing, in its place The lissom willow, swaying to the wind. B PEACE AND WAR The sleek sea, gorged and sated, basking lies ; The cruel creature fawns and blinks and purrs ; And almost we forget what fangs are hers, And trust for once her emerald-golden eyes ; Though haply on the morrow she shall rise And summon her infernal ministers. And charge her everlasting barriers. With wild white fingers snatching at the skies. So, betwixt Peace and War, man's life is cast. Yet hath he dreamed of perfect Peace at last 60 PEACE AND WAR 67 Shepherding all the nations ev'n as sheep. The inconstant, moody ocean shall as soon, At the cold dictates of the bloodless moon, Swear an eternity of halcyon sleep. THE IDEAL POPULAR LEADER He is one who counts no public toil so hard As idly glittering pleasures ; one controlled By no mob's haste, nor swayed by gods of gold ; Prizing, not courting, all just men's regard ; With none but Manhood's ancient Order starred. Nor crowned with titles less august and old Than human greatness ; large-brained, limpid- souled ; Whom dreams can hurry not, nor doubts retard ; Born, nurtured of the People ; living still The People's life; and though their noblest flower, 6S THE IDEAL POPULAR LEADER 69 In nought removed above them, save alone In loftier virtue, wisdom, courage, power. The ampler vision, the serener will, And the fixed mind, to no light dallyings prone. TO A LADY RECOVERED FROM A DANGEROUS SICKNESS Life plucks thee back as by the golden hair — Life, who had feigned to let thee go but now. Wealthy is Death already, and can spare Ev'n such a prey as thou. 70 TO Forget not, brother singer ! that though Prose Can never be too truthful or too wise, Song is not Truth, not Wisdom, but the rose Upon Truth's Hps, the light in Wisdom's eyes. 71 THE RIVALS Man's good and evil angels came to dwell As housemates, at his board and hearth alway ; One, secret as the night, one, frank as day, Both lovely, and in puissance matched full well. Each hourly strove her sleepless foe to quell, And ever and anon the bright fiend lay Foiled, and her countenance, racked with sick dismay. Changed, and its tyrannous beauty masklike fell. Ah, could man's thought for ever fix and stay That glimpse of horrors he might quake to tell 72 THE RIVALS 73 'Twere easy, then, the temptress to repel ! But 'neath the glorious mask and brave array How shall he know thee, leprous witch of hell, Robed to allure and fanged to rend and slay ? A NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM God save our ancient land, God bless our noble land, God save our land ! Yea, from war's pangs and fears, Plague's tooth and famine's tears, Ev'n unto latest years God save our land ! God bless our reigning race ! Truth, honour, wisdom, grace, Guide their right hand ! 74 A NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM ?5 Yet, though we love their sway, England is more than they : God bless their realm, we pray, God save our land ! Too long the gulf betwixt This man and that man fixt Yawns yet unspanned. Too long, that some may rest, Tired millions toil unblest. God lift our lowliest, God save our land 1 God save our ancient land, God bless our noble land, God save our land ! 76 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. Earth's empires wax and wane, Man's might is mown as grain : God's arm our arm sustain ! God save our land 1 THE SIXTY-FIVE ELEMENTS ( IVntten after reading Lord Salisbury s Address at the British Association) Master, I marvel not at all, that these Mock at the wit that would their meaning seize. A maiden's sigh — the descant of a bird — Me with triumphant riddles taunt and tease. I well believe, despite of all he knows, The wonder of the sweetness of a rose, The wonder of the wild heart of a song, Shall shame man's foolish wisdom to the close. 77 78 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. The secrets of the gods are from of old Guarded for ever and for ever told, — Blabbed in all ears, but published in a tongue Whose purport the gods only can unfold. A NEW YEAR'S PRAYER In the blanched night, when all the world lay fro re, And the cold moon, the passionless, looked down Commiserating man the passion-curst — Man made in passion and by passion marred — Through the pale silence, on the New Year's verge, This prayer fled forth, and trembled up to heaven : — * O Thou whose dwelling is eternity ; Who seest the hunger and the toil of men, 79 8o SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. And how the love of Hfe and wife and babe Is brother of hate and sire of deeds of death ; Give peace — give peace : peace in our time, O Lord! 'But if we needs must march to peace through war, Spare not the sowers who amid Thy corn Mingled the lethal seed of this red flower ; The whirlwind let them reap who sow the wind. Make terrible Thine arm against all thieves Whether in mart or on im.perial throne ; And scatter with Thy thunder the unjust Who turn thy pleasance to a wilderness, To battlefields Thy vineyard, with mailed feet Trampling the joyous vine of life in blood. A NEW YEAR'S PRAYER 8i ' Purge and renew this England, once so fair, When Arthur's knights were armed with noble- ness. Or Alfred's wisdom poised the sacred scales ; Yea, and in later times, when Liberty, Her crowned and crosiered enemies combating, Stood proudlier 'stablished by a false king's fall, Mighty from Milton's pen and Cromwell's sword, Terribly beauteous, passionately just, Seared with hell's hate, and in her scars divine.' New Year's Eve, 1892. FRANCE JUNE 25, 1894* Light-hearted heroine of tragic story! Nation whom storm on storm of ruining fate Unruined leaves, — nay, fairer, more elate, Hungrier for action, more athirst for glory ! World-witching queen, from fiery floods and gory Rising eternally regenerate, * The day after the murder of Carnot. FRANCE 83 Clothed with great deeds and crowned with dreams more great Spacious as Fancy's boundless territory ! Little thou lov'st our island, and perchance Thou hecd'st as little her reluctant praise ; Yet let her, in these dark and bodeful days. Sinking old hatreds 'neath the sundering brine, Immortal and indomitable France, Marry her tears, her alien tears, to thine. THE SOVEREIGN POET He sits above the clang and dust of Time, With the world's secret trembling on his lip. He asks not converse nor companionship In the cold starlight where thou canst not climb. The undelivered tidings in his breast Suffer him not to rest. He sees afar the immemorable throng, And binds the scattered ages with a song. 81 THE SOVEREIGN POET 85 The glorious riddle of his rhythmic breath, His might, his spell, we know not what they be : We only feel, whate'er he uttereth. This savours not of death, This hath a relish of eternity. MALIGN BEAUTY A FACE like morning, with a heart of night ! Not though in deserts fanged with death thou roam, Or couch 'mid monsters of the ooze and foam, Shalt thou be blasted with so dread a sight As when a soul whose errand is to blight And shatter, makes a glorious body its home, Foul tenant of a stately palace-dome, Imperial towers, and gardens of delight. Look through her windows ! See, — a pilgrim guest Is feasted by the bounteous chatelaine. 86 MALIGN BEAUTY 87 Fledged are the hours with wine and song and jest. The morrow cometh. Shall he rise and hie Forth on his way ? He grasps his staff in vain, In her deep dungeons flung, to rot and die. TO ONE WHO HAD WRITTEN IN DERISION OF THE BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY Dismiss not so, with light, hard phrase and cold, Ev'n if it be but fond imagining, The hope whereto so passionately cling The dreaming generations from of old ! Not thus, to luckless men, are tidings told Of mistress lost, or riches taken wing ; And is eternity a slighter thing, To have or lose, than kisses or than gold ? Nay, tenderly, if needs thou must, disprove My loftiest fancy, dash my grand desire 88 BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY 89 To see this curtain lift, these clouds retire, And Truth, a boundless dayspring, blaze above And round me ; and to ask of my dead sire His pardon for each word that wronged his love. CHRISTMAS DAY The morn broke bright : the thronging people wore Their best ; but in the general face I saw No touch of veneration or of awe. Christ's natal day ? 'Twas merely one day more On which the mart agreed to close its door ; A lounging-time by usage and by law Sanctioned ; nor recked they, beyond this, one straw Of any meaning which for man it bore ! Fated among time's fallen leaves to stray, We breathe an air that savours of the tomb, 00 CHRISTMAS DAY 91 Heavy with dissolution and decay ; Waiting till some new world-emotion rise, And with the shattering might of the simoom Sweep clean this dying Past that never dies. THE WORLD IN ARMOUR I Under this shade of crimson wings abhorred That never wholly leaves the sky serene, — While Vengeance sleeps a sleep so light, between Dominions that acclaim Thee overlord, — Sadly the blast of Thy tremendous word, Whate'er its mystic purport may have been, Echoes across the ages, Nazarene : Not to bring peace Mme errand, but a sword. For lo, Thy world uprises and lies down In armour, and its Peace is War, in all 92 THE WORLD IN ARMOUR 93 Save the great death that weaves War's dreadful crown ; War unennobled by heroic pain, War where none triumph, none subh'mely fall, War that sits smiling, with the eyes of Cain. II When London's Plague, that day by day enrolled His thousands dead, nor deigned his rage to abate Till grass was green in silent Bishopsgate, Had come and passed like thunder, — still, 'tis told, The monster, driven to earth, in hovels old And haunts obscure, though dormant, lingered late, Till the dread Fire, one roaring wave of fate. Rose, and swept clean his last retreat and hold. In Europe live the dregs of Plague to-day, Dregs of full many an ancient Plague and dire, 04 THE WORLD IN ARMOUR 95 Old wrongs, old lies of ages blind and cruel. What if alone the world-war's world-wide fire Can purge the ambushed pestilence away ? Yet woe to him that idly lights the fuel ! Ill A moment's fantasy, the vision came Of Europe dipped in fiery death, and so Mounting re-born, with vestal limbs aglow, Splendid and fragrant from her bath of flame. It fleeted ; and a phantom without name, Sightless, dismembered, terrible, said : ' Lo, / am that ravished Europe men shall know After the morn of blood and night of shame.' The spectre passed, and I beheld alone The Europe of the present, as she stands, 96 THE WORLD IN ARMOUR 97 Powerless from terror of her own vast power, Neath novel stars, beside a brink unknown ; And round her the sad Kings, with sleepless hands. Piling the fagots, hour by doomful hour. TO AUBREY DE VERE Poet, whose grave and strenuous lyre is still For Truth and Duty strung ; whose art eschews The lighter graces of the softer Muse, Disdainful of mere craftsman's idle skill : Yours is a soul from visionary hill Watching and hearkening for ethereal news, Looking beyond life's storms and death's cold dews To habitations of the eternal will. Not mine your mystic creed ; not mine, in prayer And worship, at the ensanguined Cross to kneel ; 98 TO AUBREY DE VERE 99 But when I mark your faith how pure and fair, How based on love, on passion for man's weal, My mind, half envying what it cannot share. Reveres the reverence which it cannot feel. WRITTEN IN A COPY OF MR. STEVENSON'S 'CATRIONA' Glorious Sir Walter, Shakespeare's brother-brain, Fortune's invincible victor-victim, Scott, Mere lettered fame, 'tis said, esteeming not. Save as it ministered to weightier gain, Had yet his roseate dream, though dreamed in vain ; The dream, that, crowning his terrestrial lot, A race of great and splendid heirs, begot Of his own loins, o'er Abbotsford should reign. Fate spurned his wish, but promised, in amends, One mighty scion of his heart and mind : 100 WRITTEN IN A COPY OF 'CATRIONA' loi And where far isles the languid ocean fleck, — Flying the cold kiss of our northern wind, — Lo the rare spirit through whom we hail as friends The immortal Highland maid and Alan Break 1 TELL ME NOT NOW Tell me not now, if love for love Thou canst return, — Now while around us and above Day's flambeaux burn. Not in clear noon, with speech as clear, Thy heart avow, For every gossip wind to hear ; Tell me not now ! Tell me not now the tidings sweet, The news divine ; A little longer at thy feet Leave me to pine. TELL ME NOT NOW 103 I would not have the gadding bird Hear from his bough ; Nay, though I famish for a word, Tell me not now ! But when deep trances of delight All Nature seal, When round the world the arms of Night Caressing steal. When rose to dreaming rose says, 'Dear, Dearest^ — and when Heaven sighs her secret in earth's ear, Ah, tell me then ! NIGHT ON CURBAR EDGE No echo of man's life pursues my ears ; Nothing disputes this Desolation's reign ; Change comes not, this dread temple to profane, Where time by aeons reckons, not by years. Its patient form one crag, sole stranded, rears, Type of whate'er is destined to remain While yon still host encamped on night's waste plain Keeps armed watch, a million quivering spears. Hushed are the wild and wing'd lives of the moor ; The sleeping sheep nestle 'neath ruined wall, 104 NIGHT ON CURBAR EDGE 105 Or unhewn stones in random concourse hurled : Solitude, sleepless, listens at Fate's door ; And there is built and 'stablisht over all Tremendous silence, older than the world. THE SAINT AND THE SATYR* Saint Anthony the eremite He wandered in the wold, And there he saw a hoofed wight That blew his hands for cold. ' What dost thou here in misery, That better far wert dead ? ' The eremite Saint Anthony Unto the Satyr said. ' Lorn in the wold,' the thing replied, ' I sit and make my moan, * Mediaeval legend. 106 THE SAINT AND THE SATYR 107 For all the gods I loved have died, And I am left alone. * Silent in Paphos Venus sleeps, And Jove on Ida mute ; And every living creature weeps Pan and his perished flute. * The Faun, his laughing heart is broke The nymph, her fountain fails ; And driven from out the hollow oak The Hamadryad wails. * A God more beautiful than mine Hath conquered mine, they say. — Ah, to that fair young God of thine, For me I pray thee pray ! ' LINES WRITTEN IN RICHMOND PARK Lady, were you but here ! The Autumn flames away, And pensive in the antlered shade I stray. The Autumn flames away, his end is near. I linger where deposed and fall'n he lies, Prankt in his last poor tattered braveries. And think what brightness would enhance the Day, Lady, were you but here. Though hushed the woodlands, though sedate the skies. Though dank the leaves and sere, 108 LINES WRITTEN IN RICHMOND PARK 109 The stored sunlight in your hair and eyes Would vernalise November, and renew the aged year, Lady ! were you but here. A RIDDLE OF THE THAMES At windows that from Westminster Look southward to the Lollard's Tower, She sat, my lovely friend. A blur Of gilded mist, — ('twas morn's first hour,)- Made vague the world : and in the gleam Shivered the half-awakened stream. Through tinted vapour looming large, Ambiguous shapes obscurely rode. She gazed where many a laden barge Like some dim-moving saurian showed. And 'midst them, lo ! two swans appeared. And proudly up the river steered, 110 A RIDDLE OF THE THAMES III Two stately swans ! What did they there ? Whence came they? Whither would they go ? Think of them, — things so faultless fair, — 'Mid the black shipping down below ! On through the rose and gold they passed, And melted in the morn at last. Ah, can it be, that they had come Where Thames in sullied glory flows Fugitive rebels, tired of some Secluded lake's ornate repose, Eager to taste the life that pours Its muddier wave 'twixt mightier shores ? 112 SONNETS, LYRICS, ETC. We ne'er shall know : our wonderment No barren certitude shall mar. They left behind them, as they went, A dream than knowledge ampler far ; And from our world they sailed away Into some visionary day. Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty at the Edinburgh University Press List of Books in Relies Jettres 189s ALL BOOKS IN THIS CATALOGUE ARE PUBLISHED AT NET PRICES Telegraphic Address — ' Bodleian, London ' A FEW PRESS NOTES LE GALLIENNE (RICHARD). Prose Fancies. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s, net. ' The sentiment rings true, and the quaint conceits which abound have a dainty prettiness which gives distinction to the prose.' — Athetueum. ' A more delightful collection of essays has not issued from the press since the time of Charles Lamb.' — Weekly Sun. ' They deserve to rank forthwith among the gems of English prose. And why? Because they could have been written only by a poet.' — Daily Chronicle. DAVIDSON (JOHN). Plays. Small 4to. 7s. 6d. net. ' Mr. Davidson is in many ways one of the most remarkable of the younger poets, and in many respects the most richly endowed of all.' — Mr. QuiLLER Couch in Speaker. ' A very singular dramatist indeed, and, as a poet, so full of curious and varied power that we have conceived the greatest interest as to his per- sonality and his plans.' — Spectator. 'There is no truer poet in England to-day than Mr. John Davidson.' — Westviinster Gazette. EGERTON (GEORGE). Keynotes. Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. ' Singularly artistic in its brilliant suggestiveness.' — Daily News. ' Eight of the prettiest short stories that have appeared for many a day.' — lS";". James's Gazette. ' We have met with nothing so lovely in its tenderness since Mr. Kipling's "Without Benefit of Clergy."' — Daily Chronicle. ' Not since "The Story of an African Farm" was written has any woman delivered herself of so strong, so forcible a hook.'— Queen. STREET (G. S.). The Autobiography of a Boy. Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. ' A creation in which there appears to be no flaw.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 'A quite priceless treasure. Tubby is indeed a new immortal.' — Academy. ' There is more observation and art of presentment in this little book than in a wilderness of three-volume novels, even by eminent hands.' — Athenceum. ' It is admirably done throughout, full of delicate strokes of ironical wit.' — Daily Telegraph. 1895. List of Books IN BELLES LETT RES {Including some Transfers) Published by John Lane VIGO STREET, LONDON, W. N. B. — The A utkors and Publisher reserve the right of reprinting any book in this list if a new edition is called for, except in cases where a stiptdation has been made to the contrary, and of printing a separate edition of any of the books for America irrespective of the numbers to which the English editions are limited. The numbers mentioned do not include copies sent to the public libraries, nor those sent for review. Most of the books are published simultaneously in England and America, and in many instances the names of the American Publishers are appended. ADAMS (FRANCIS). Essays in Modernity. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. [Shortly. Chicago : Stone & Kimball. ADAMS (FRANCIS). A Child of the Age. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. (See Keynotes Series.) Boston : Roberts Bros. THE PUBLICATIONS OF ALLEN (GRANT). The Lower Slopes : A Volume of Verse. With Title- page and Cover Design by J. Illingworth Kay. 600 copies. Crown 8vo. 5s. net. Chicago : Stone & Kimball. ALLEN (GRANT). The Woman Who Did. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. net. (See Keynotes Series.) [/n rapid preparation. Boston : Roberts Bros. BEARDSLEY (AUBREY). The Story of Venus and Tannhauser, in which is set forth an exact account of the Manner of State held by Madam Venus, Goddess and Meretrix, under the famous Horselberg, and containing the adventures of Tannhauser in that place, his repentance, his jour- neying to Rome, and return to the loving mountain. By Aubrey Beardsley. With 20 full-page illus- trations, numerous ornaments, and a cover from the same hand. Sq. i6mo. ios.6d.net. \_In preparation. BEECHING (Rev. H. C). In a Garden : Poems. With Title-page designed by Roger Fry. Crown 8vo. 5s.net. \In preparation. BENSON (ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER). Lyrics. Fcap. 8vo., buckram. 5s. net. [/« rapid preparation. BROTHERTON (MARY). Rosemary for Remembrance. With Title-page and Cover Design by Walter West. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net. [/« rapid Preparation. DALMON (C. W.). Song Favours. With a specially-designed Title-page. 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