THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 AT OXFORD
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 THE LIFE AND PRINCIPATE OF THE 
 EMPEROR NERO 
 
 CIVIL WAR AND REBELLION IN THE 
 ROMAN EMPIRE 
 
 AT INTERVALS
 
 AT OXFORD 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 BERNARD W. HENDERSON 
 
 M.A., D.LiTT., EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 METHUEN & CO. LTD 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. 
 
 LONDON
 
 First Published in
 
 ?R 
 
 H. C. H. B. 
 A. J. D. 
 
 91.GP
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AT OXFORD i 
 
 A DOUBT 5 
 
 FOR JOY THAT A MAN .... 8 
 
 THE LAST DAY . . . . , . n 
 
 SURRENDER . . . . . . . 13 
 
 SORRISE 18 
 
 IN VAIN? 22 
 
 SIR BRANDRETH ...... 24 
 
 THE RAILWAY CUTTING ..... 27 
 
 ST LEVAN 30 
 
 BY THE CORNISH SEA 32 
 
 LAMORNA BAY ...... 37 
 
 AT NIGHT 39 
 
 SURGE OF THE SEA ...... 40 
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE ..... 42 
 
 EARTH TOKENS . . . . . . 51 
 
 AT CARLISLE ... 53 
 
 THE FULNESS OF LIFE 59 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE HILLS . . . . 61 
 
 O FORTDNATOS ! ...... 64 
 
 THE ROSE 67 
 
 ON CHRISTMAS EVE , 68
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A WEST-COUNTRY CAROL . . . . 71 
 
 IN EXETER COLLEGE CHAPEL .... 73 
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE ...... 76 
 
 AVE ATQUE VALE ...... 78
 
 AT OXFORD 
 
 A UTUMN again at winter's call is 
 JL\ speeding, 
 
 Decking her path with crimson and with 
 
 gold. 
 
 Her ripened fruit she gathers, little heeding 
 All we had hoped for when the year grew 
 old. 
 
 Yonder round pinnacle and tower wheel- 
 ing 
 The rooks make brief and melancholy 
 
 call; 
 
 And softly, as some secret grief revealing, 
 The robin sings from ivy-clustered wall. 
 
 To-morrow sees our tide of life returning, 
 Flooding old ways anew with eager 
 
 youth ; 
 Hope, strength, ambition, resolution 
 
 burning 
 To have the mastery in strife for truth.
 
 2 AT OXFORD 
 
 But now the surge sounds faint and distant, 
 
 seeming 
 
 This evening-tide to draw to lowest ebb; 
 And Memory with shadows weaves her 
 
 dreaming : 
 
 Shot through with colours bright and 
 grey her web. 
 
 Half-seen the pathway, rock and mountain 
 
 cleaving ; 
 Sombre the crags which guard the castle 
 
 fast 
 Where, grave, majestic, kindly, dwells she, 
 
 weaving 
 
 In dim bare wind-swept chamber from 
 the past. 
 
 Brother Marlburians, comrades loyal ever 
 To school and college, linked to me as 
 
 friends, 
 
 Earnest in play and valiant in endeavour 
 Surely God cherishes whom alone He 
 spends ! 
 
 One from the threshold of a full life's 
 
 measure, 
 
 Summoned by death to pass to the un- 
 known,
 
 AT OXFORD 3 
 
 Offered his sacrifice, long-drawn pain for 
 
 pleasure, 
 
 Fared with a smile forth to the dark 
 alone. 
 
 One by the shores of Tropic lake and 
 
 ocean 
 Joyously gave of manhood's days the 
 
 best, 
 
 Leaning on Christ in passion of devotion 
 Won from his Lord the martyr's crown 
 and rest. 
 
 Youth in its happiness, heedless of sorrow, 
 Fashioning dreamings and scornful of 
 fears, 
 
 Yesterday's promise, forgotten to-morrow, 
 Youth is the tapestry woven of years. 
 
 Once with their laughter the college was 
 
 ringing ; 
 Theirs once to strive for its honour and 
 
 fame ; 
 Theirs in its Chapel to worship and, 
 
 singing, 
 Glorify God and rejoice in His name.
 
 4 AT OXFORD 
 
 All here are knit to the ages before them, 
 Fashioned and shaped by their working 
 
 and plan, 
 Hand on to others the task, and implore 
 
 them, 
 Sons of the College, they too play the man. 
 
 Ah, could but love from its fetters be 
 
 parted, 
 
 Bidding defiance to space and to time, 
 How would they muster, the lads eager- 
 hearted, 
 Answer the roll-call from every clime. 
 
 What though ensnared by some task never- 
 ending 
 We may forget those who pass from our 
 
 ken-, 
 What though the duty of life and its 
 
 spending 
 
 Prison their thoughts to the labours of 
 men; 
 
 Springtime for sowing : though harvesting 
 
 tarry 
 
 Surely the reaper hath joy of past days ; 
 Back to the city of Youth shall he carry 
 His fruits for her glory, his deeds for 
 her praise.
 
 A DOUBT 
 
 (On AN APOLOGIA ?) 
 
 " Num his continetur salus reipublicz? " 
 
 WE ponder over manuscripts and peer 
 into antiquities ; 
 We ask if one authority with all the rest 
 
 agrees ; 
 We plod along the stony ways of centuries 
 
 all dim to us ; 
 
 Does the health of the Republic rest on 
 studies such as these ? 
 
 When faintly from the darkness where in 
 
 slums of dirt and misery 
 In pitiless enslavement man must drain 
 
 of life the lees, 
 We may hear the children crying, if at 
 
 times we idly hearken 
 Can the Country in her peril turn for 
 aid to such as these ? 
 
 5
 
 6 A DOUBT 
 
 Hearken idly : for how sorry is the help 
 
 that we could offer ; 
 Our thoughts are with philosophy and 
 
 language, if you please ; 
 And if Mammon rides triumphant over 
 
 boyhood's health and happiness, 
 What use a student's protest on behalf 
 of such as these ? 
 
 And all the while in India, in Africa, in 
 
 Canada, 
 Wherever man is working in our Empire 
 
 overseas, 
 
 The youngsters who have been with us, 
 have learnt with us, have played 
 with us, 
 
 They live their lives apart from us 'mid 
 problems such as these. 
 
 Or lads we loved and cherished (though 
 
 they never dreamt it of us), 
 Straight open-hearted schoolboys, quick 
 
 to admire or tease, 
 The friends of school and College days, 
 
 they pass and leave us wondering 
 Why we should tarry longer when death 
 claims such as these.
 
 A DOUBT 7 
 
 There's a barren barren desert of indul- 
 gence, sport, and pleasure, 
 Where the longer dwell the sojourners 
 
 the colder is the breeze : 
 But we for all our learning, our questing, 
 
 our teaching, 
 
 Are we truly any wiser than the multi- 
 tude of these ? 
 
 But Plato pleads sagaciously that "each 
 
 man to his labour " 
 Makes the whole machine run smoothly 
 
 to the joy of him who sees. 
 Nor sympathy nor intellect can bring all 
 
 men to Paradise ; 
 
 Why should we be tormented by ques- 
 tionings like these ? 
 
 Yet when the toil is over and the lamp of 
 
 life burns dimly, 
 I wonder what will cheer us : will repose 
 
 and learned ease ? 
 Or the voice of One who cryeth, though 
 
 our souls be let and hindered, 
 "Inasmuch as ye have done it to just 
 one, the least of these " ?
 
 FOR JOY THAT A MAN 
 
 DAWN, hard merciless dawn, and a 
 wintry light on the city 
 And hurrying steps of the boy, toiling 
 
 for home and for bread ; 
 Boy-brother, sturdily loyal, hungry, yet 
 
 asking not pity 
 
 But work and some measure of joy ere 
 boyhood be sped. 
 
 What will you make of him, England, this 
 
 son of yours, "heir to the Ages"? 
 Ages of Faith, maybe ? Is it Faith that 
 
 passes him by 
 With a word of praise on the lips, but with 
 
 eyes intent on the pages 
 Of ledger of Profit and Loss ? Why 
 listen the children's cry ? 
 
 Where else is your duty, England, the task 
 
 of a surety the Mother's, 
 Aged, careworn, and wise, " Empress 
 from Tropic to Pole " ? 
 
 8
 
 FOR JOY THAT A MAN 
 
 Empress ? And here at your feet is your 
 
 son in his toiling for others, 
 Little ones, lest they go hungry. Is it 
 preaching must save his soul ? 
 
 "Not walls and not bulwarks but men" ! 
 
 Are not these the men for your saving? 
 
 But God send the need come slowly if 
 
 you tend them no better, your sons. 
 Ill housed, ill fed, ill apparelled will you 
 
 call these lads to go braving 
 Peril and wounding and death 'mid the 
 roar of the enemy's guns ? 
 
 Yes, they will answer the call, but alas for 
 
 the mothers who bare them, 
 And woe for the weary days and the 
 
 desolate nights, as they roam 
 Unloved, unguarded, unheeded, for hunger 
 
 and sin to ensnare them, 
 The wastage of life, your children, Eng- 
 land, sons of the home ! 
 
 Boyhood resolute, daring, defiant of danger 
 
 and sorrow, 
 
 Boyhood following hard in the steps of 
 those perished before :
 
 io FOR JOY THAT A MAN 
 
 What will you make of him, England, this 
 lad who must guard you to-morrow ? 
 For the son who is lost God gives you, 
 Mother, no more.
 
 THE LAST DAY 
 
 DESOLATE gloom of a sunless day 
 (Ah, but the waves are breaking 
 coldly!) 
 
 Can there be light where he passed away? 
 (Ah, but he faced death's terror boldly !) 
 
 Out from the pain thou bringest release ? 
 (Hearken the cry of the sea-bird's 
 
 wailing !) 
 
 But how to fatherless children peace ? 
 (What profit to mend a grief by rail- 
 ing ?) 
 
 Let the storm rage and be done with 
 
 pity! 
 (See o'er the rocks the cruel foam 
 
 leaping !) 
 Back to the struggle and fret of the 
 
 city ! 
 (Leave we our dead to God's quiet 
 
 keeping.) 
 
 11
 
 12 THE LAST DAY 
 
 Golden the sunset : the long day is done, 
 (Ever at evening the sea finds rest !) 
 
 The passion of sorrow for ever is gone, 
 (We know nothing and God knows 
 best).
 
 H 
 
 SURRENDER 
 
 I 
 
 I AST them a song, O singer, 
 
 A song of the happier Past 
 When man was valiant, nor shunned to slay, 
 And the rush-strewn hall in, the fire-light 
 
 gay 
 
 Re-echoed with laughter and minstrel's lay, 
 And youth was aflame for love and the fray, 
 
 And maidens' hearts beat fast ? 
 The present we hate, for blood runs cold, 
 All hearths are ashen grey to behold, 
 When men are all selfish seekers for gold : 
 Methinketh the world is waxen old 
 And the wind blows drearily over the wold. 
 Is there courage in youth ? 
 
 Bid him stay : 
 For the days of the heroes are long since 
 
 dead 
 Now that " Give us this day another man's 
 
 bread" 
 Is the prayer of each heart all secretly said : 
 
 13
 
 I 4 SURRENDER 
 
 Let the hungry go weep, we will raise our 
 
 head 
 
 A' top of our fellows ; for mercy is fled 
 From the day 
 
 When Mammon is Master of truth. 
 
 II 
 
 Nay there is pity enough 
 In measure pressed down, running o'er. 
 Why malign ye the age of new lore, 
 Of the franchise, the Trust, and the rough 
 Whose wrongs we must hasten to heal 
 And demand of his victim he feel 
 Like zest for his wrongdoer's weal ? 
 
 How idle the fears 
 That the Present no Chivalry knows, 
 No honour rewards, praise bestows 
 On those whom its fancy admires 
 Though little it reck of its sires ! 
 
 There are tears, 
 Tears for the rogue, the traitor, the 
 
 thief, 
 Tears in plenty for advertised grief. 
 
 Is the nation at war ? 
 
 See the gibes and rejoicings at English 
 defeat !
 
 SURRENDER 15 
 
 And the blood of the English as dirt in the 
 
 street, 
 While the foe for forgiveness we beg, and 
 
 entreat 
 That he let us defame our own courage, 
 
 our fleet, 
 
 And our army afar. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Why is the singer dumb, 
 That he sings not the song of the Present ? 
 
 See his hearers thronging : they come 
 
 From the ruined village, the slum, 
 Vice, virtue, all shivering, numb 
 
 With the biting of rage are some ; 
 But others are flaunting in finery's shame 
 Revelling, feasting, girding at blame, 
 The harlot, the temptress, the wanton, no 
 
 name 
 Of despair and reproach but they gaily 
 
 acclaim. 
 For God maketh His sun to shine all the 
 
 same 
 
 On the evil and good. 
 So here for the minstrel's song is food : 
 No ballad antique of creeds decaying, 
 Of faiths outworn and past all praying,
 
 16 SURRENDER 
 
 Of children's glee when the world went 
 
 Maying, 
 
 Of mariners' quests, of knights arraying 
 For the Cross and its war with the 
 
 Crescent, 
 Themes stripped from Time's loom. 
 
 IV 
 
 Let the dead Past bury its dead. 
 
 Sing us this song instead, 
 Of the hurrying flood of this fast-rushing 
 
 life 
 O'erwhelming us all 'neath the waters of 
 
 strife, 
 Boy, maiden, and lover, child, husband, and 
 
 wife : 
 The song of To-day with its hopes 
 
 and its fears. 
 For have we not suffered our burden 
 
 of years ? 
 
 Let our dead Past bury its dead ! 
 "We have fought and striven and 
 
 shed 
 Our life-blood the wide world 
 
 through : 
 
 Whence again then to dare and to 
 do?
 
 SURRENDER 17 
 
 Why call us anew 
 Our souls with strength to endue, 
 To be strong with the power of a living 
 
 faith 
 
 To welcome hardship and mock at death ? 
 Nay lull us to rest. 
 
 Lull us to rest : we are past our prime : 
 Let us garner our husks 'gainst the coming 
 
 time 
 
 Of our Winter's eld : no song sublime 
 Should wake our hearts in the minstrel's 
 
 rhyme, 
 
 And sleep is best
 
 SORRISE 
 
 SORRISE, Sorrise, 
 Where tarriest them, Sorrise ? 
 There's a gleam on the tarn in the dark of 
 
 the hills, 
 And dim through the dusk of the morning 
 
 the rills 
 
 Shine white as they leap ; night is past and 
 its ills. 
 
 Awake, Sorrise. 
 
 Now fast down the fell side the shadows 
 
 in flight 
 Haste back to their home in the bosom of 
 
 night, 
 And the mountains are bathed in a glory of 
 
 light ; 
 
 O haste thee, Sorrise. 
 
 The bracken's aglow with its russet and 
 
 gold, 
 Now day wakes in laughter o'er hamlet 
 
 and fold ; 
 
 18
 
 SORRISE 19 
 
 There is joy in the hills, joy to-day as of old. 
 Awake, Sorrise. 
 
 See the dragon-fly darting all amber and 
 
 green, 
 
 A jewel of splendour, the rushes between ; 
 No day could be fairer of all that have 
 
 been : 
 
 Comest thou not, Sorrise ? 
 
 Sorrise, Sorrise, 
 Mindest thou not, Sorrise, 
 The long summer day when we wandered 
 
 forth free, 
 
 God's sky blue above us, an infinite sea 
 Of rejoicing embracing us two, you and me, 
 Sorrise ? 
 
 So we climbed through the heather the steep 
 
 of High Raise, 
 Where around and beneath us, spread out 
 
 to our gaze, 
 Lay mountain and valley, all bright for 
 
 God's praise : 
 
 See-est thou not, Sorrise ?
 
 20 SORRISE 
 
 Far away to the eastward below us there 
 
 gleamed 
 Winandermere's waters : a vision they 
 
 seemed 
 Of the river of crystal of God's own 
 
 redeemed : 
 
 When comest thou, Sorrise ? 
 
 Now autumn is monarch and summer is 
 
 flown; 
 Why wilt thou not hearken ? I stand here 
 
 alone ; 
 Yet a little, night falls, and the journey is 
 
 done, 
 
 Sorrise. 
 
 Sorrise, Sorrise, 
 Bethink thee, Sorrise, 
 How we dreamed of the son God should 
 
 give us, that he 
 In his beauty of boyhood these mountains 
 
 should see, 
 
 And we stand here together in worship, we 
 three 
 
 Together, Sorrise.
 
 SORRISE 21 
 
 And the strength of the hills should be his, 
 
 and the song 
 
 Of the rivers inspire with courageandstrong 
 Loyal faith for his battle with sin and with 
 
 wrong ; 
 
 Rememberest thou not, Sorrise? 
 
 If death be the ending, the pageant of 
 
 earth 
 The glory of sunrise, each day's happy 
 
 birth, 
 The spring and its promise, how mocking 
 
 their mirth ; 
 
 Comest thou never, Sorrise ? 
 
 The long day is ending: its hours are fled ; 
 I am lonely, alone with my God and my 
 
 dead ; 
 
 In the infinite stillness God's mercy is shed, 
 And thou comest, Sorrise.
 
 IN VAIN? 
 
 WILL you not tell me 
 What it means to love you ? 
 Once I thought it Paradise 
 In the Heaven above you. 
 
 Now to all seeming 
 Vanished is the vision. 
 Was it only dreaming ? 
 Earth is still my prison? 
 
 Once you smiled upon me 
 When you bade me follow: 
 Now the mist clings round me 
 And the laugh rings hollow. 
 
 Love that's born of Springtime- 
 Can you not remember ? 
 Why must it perish 'mid 
 Snows of dim December ?
 
 IN VAIN? 23 
 
 Was is not at Winter that 
 Vigil and scorning ; 
 Mary at the manger side, 
 Love born in the morning ? 
 
 Shall Winter's empery 
 Rule our kingdom ? 
 Ah, let Love's sun arise, 
 Presage the Spring come. 
 
 Will you not tell me 
 What it means to love you ? 
 Still it may be Paradise 
 In the Heaven above you.
 
 SIR BRANDRETH 
 
 SIR BRANDRETH rode fast with his 
 knights at his side 
 
 O'er the causeway awash with the incom- 
 ing tide. 
 
 Then spurred he full swiftly to bridge 
 
 and to gate. 
 " Sweet Mary have mercy ! Who knock- 
 
 eth so late ? " 
 
 "Now haste thee, sir porter, the gateway 
 
 unbar : 
 'Tis Sir Brandreth thy Lord, newly home 
 
 from the war." 
 
 " God keep us, Sir Brandreth ; scarce an 
 
 hour is gone 
 Thou didst smite on the wicket and pass 
 
 in alone : 
 
 24
 
 SIR BRANDRETH 25 
 
 "In the light of the torches thine armour 
 
 shone red, 
 Thou didst reel on the threshold as one 
 
 sore bested." 
 
 "Thou ravest, sir porter! 'Tis years 
 
 twain or more 
 Since I passed o'er the causeway from 
 
 yonder far shore. 
 
 " Go bid Lady Avice and Richard my 
 
 son" 
 "Sir Brandreth, Sir Brandreth, their life's 
 
 course is run." 
 
 Who calleth so loud from the sands through 
 
 the night ? 
 Now Jesu have pity ! The tide's near its 
 
 height. 
 
 Then out laughed Sir Brandreth full loud 
 
 at the call : 
 " Bid my wraith then stay dwell in my 
 
 desolate hall ; 
 
 " And the Devil's own curse light on 
 
 castle and bower, 
 On steed and on rider for aye from this 
 
 hour ! "
 
 26 SIR BRANDRETH 
 
 " Hark ! The fiend cryeth loud " quoth 
 
 Sir Brandreth in glee : 
 " An he lack him his supper, he is welcome 
 
 to me." 
 
 Sir Brandreth turned sharply his steed, 
 
 and he rode 
 Back into the night and the wild rushing 
 
 flood. 
 
 All white to the heavens the billows are 
 
 tossed. 
 Sweet Mary have mercy on souls that are 
 
 lost !
 
 THE RAILWAY CUTTING 
 
 HAREBELL and heather and daisy, 
 Hearken their call to the dance ! 
 Away with all imps that be lazy j 
 Moonlight and evening entrance. 
 
 Here is broom to be rid of things creepy, 
 And thyme for the little bare feet : 
 Poppies so red but so sleepy ! 
 Mallow and campion neat. 
 
 Look ! The moon's smiling and winking ; 
 Cloudlets go streaming away ; 
 Once she's awake she'll be thinking 
 It jolly to join in the play. 
 
 Time for a change in our measure : 
 The flowers are dancing themselves : 
 The goblins are grinning for pleasure : 
 So quick to it, fairies and elves ! 
 
 27
 
 28 THE RAILWAY CUTTING 
 
 Where the embankment slopes down in 
 
 the cutting 
 
 Hideous monsters affright not a whit ! 
 Let them come raging and shrieking and 
 
 butting, 
 Into the bracken we merrily flit. 
 
 Poor stupid mortals cooped up in those 
 
 boxes, 
 Just as we spy them through windows 
 
 alight, 
 Fastened like pheasant chicks fearful of 
 
 foxes, 
 Peering so dismally into the night ! 
 
 Children's pale faces glide by us appealing 
 (Why ! Here's a bee spiked its wing 
 
 on a thorn ! 
 
 Bind it up softly for mending and healing) 
 Come then and dance with us, play- 
 mates, till morn. 
 
 Hark ! Here's the muttering, quivering, 
 
 rumbling ! 
 
 Jock-a-Limb 's climbing the top of the 
 post !
 
 THE RAILWAY CUTTING 29 
 
 Stick to it, Jock-a-Limb, else you'll come 
 
 tumbling ! 
 Up flies the signal on Jock's nose a'most. 
 
 Here's a wee shrew been disturbed from 
 
 her slumber 
 
 Scampering madly, an urchin astride: 
 Pixies and elves peeping shy without 
 
 number : 
 
 Come on, you fellows ! a groat for a 
 ride ! 
 
 Search for a glowworm to carry our ladies : 
 Who's for the seaside ? Bring quick 
 
 from our hoard 
 Under the rowan-tree hid, where the 
 
 shade is, 
 
 Gossamer - wrappings, and see 'em 
 aboard. 
 
 Light up the lanterns ! Now, elves, take 
 
 your places ! 
 What ? A wren's twitter ? The night 
 
 nearly done ? 
 See ! Mortals yawning ! What ugly 
 
 grimaces ! 
 
 Farewell to our revels : but, oh, they 
 were fun.
 
 ST LEV AN 
 
 SURGE and fret of the foam, 
 Foam of the western sea leaping 
 In billows charging to shore 
 With rushing and furious roar, 
 And manes wind-blown 
 Of spray wrack-strown, 
 Raging and hungry with death in their 
 
 keeping ; 
 
 Cataracts tossing on high 
 Till rocks and ramparts and sky 
 
 Are lost in a whirling confusion of white 
 And pale flecked green in the dying 
 
 light, 
 
 Storm of mid-winter ne'er lulling to rest 
 The heaving of ocean's wild passionate 
 
 breast, 
 Greedy, ah greedy, to whelm and 
 
 destroy 
 Gaunt hardy mariner, pale weary 
 
 boy, 
 Buffeted seaward, drifting to shore, 
 
 Where, evermore, 
 so
 
 ST LEVAN 31 
 
 Cruelties of castled and pinnacled rock, 
 Jagged and streaming and glistening, mock 
 Sailor and helmsman, and savage confound 
 The cries of despair 
 That call from their lair 
 Cormorants glutted with flesh of the 
 drowned : 
 
 Ah, shall the ship reach home ?
 
 BY THE CORNISH SEA 
 
 ^ I A HE granite cliffs are cleft by 
 JL caverns deep ; 
 The purple heather decks the clinging 
 
 grass 
 Where castled rocks in sun-bathed 
 
 dreaming sleep ; 
 Swift o'er the restless sea shadows of 
 
 hurrying seamews pass, 
 Crying their wild and ever plaintive 
 
 note 
 
 As spirits of lost mariners in quest, 
 From cruel reef and perilous ways 
 
 remote, 
 Of quiet land-encircled graves where they 
 
 may be at rest. 
 
 Far shores, beyond the meeting-place 
 
 of day and night, 
 Oceanus' circling stream, Calypso's 
 
 caverned isle, 
 Beyond his ken, defiant of the storm's 
 
 affright, 
 
 32
 
 BY THE CORNISH SEA 33 
 
 Of Laestrygonian horror or Sirens' sweet 
 alluring guile, 
 
 Harvestless wine-dark sea, enchant- 
 ment-breathing land, 
 
 Till green Hermans' steep the keen 
 Phseacian hails, 
 
 Soft lays the toil-spent warrior on his 
 
 long-sought strand, 
 
 And hoists anew to catch the favouring 
 breeze his crimsoned sails. 
 
 Perchance here once some black 
 
 Sidonian keel 
 With dark-envisaged treacherous 
 
 hardy crew 
 Half trader and half pirate, at the 
 
 appeal 
 Of fond adventure marked with white the 
 
 troubled waters blue, 
 Seeking the fabled Cassiterides, 
 Pearls of great price, rich treasures 
 
 ocean-born, 
 
 Weaving them tales of fancy's melodies, 
 The Nereids' coronal of song and Triton's 
 
 ominous horn. 
 
 But hark ! The music of soft-ringing 
 
 chimes 
 3
 
 34 BY THE CORNISH SEA 
 
 Is mingled with the surge's deeper 
 
 note; 
 
 The very waves whisper of faery times 
 When Arthur's chivalry rode forth and 
 
 giant tyrants smote 
 In headlong flight beyond the hidden 
 
 marge 
 
 Of Lyonesse, or e'er the heathen rout 
 Swept down anew with myriad axe 
 
 and targe 
 As some wild Scythian horseman, flashing 
 
 lance and brandished knout. 
 
 Then where the din of hideous battle 
 
 raged 
 O'er peaceful hamlets, prayer-built 
 
 lonely cells, 
 The savage ranged, his blood-thirst 
 
 unassuaged, 
 
 Though in wild tocsin swayed the clamor- 
 ous and despairing bells, 
 Till in their last and hopeless agony 
 The people lifted hands to God in 
 
 prayer, 
 Who in His mercy bade the pitying 
 
 sea 
 Flood o'er the fragrant thyme-set fields of 
 
 Lyonesse the fair.
 
 BY THE CORNISH SEA 35 
 
 Galleot and galleon, caravel and sloop, 
 Moving up channel with the flowing 
 
 tide, 
 Their ordnance ready trimmed, and 
 
 at the poop 
 The embroidered flags of Spain flaunting 
 
 their challenge proud, defied 
 The granite cliffs and England's 
 
 wooden walls, 
 But soon a lurid night of storm shall 
 
 see 
 Yards flying loose, hulls rent, and 
 
 shattering squalls 
 Hurling them doom-wards, priest and slave 
 
 and frustrate chivalry. 
 
 As some great cliff its massive crest 
 
 uprears 
 
 Above the fury of the treacherous gale 
 Where the sea-eagle nests her brood, 
 
 nor fears 
 The angry clutching waves which vain her 
 
 timorous young assail, 
 So England, Mother, our hearts go 
 
 out to thee 
 Calm in thy patience 'mid grim envy's 
 
 hate,
 
 36 BY THE CORNISH SEA 
 
 Ruler and Queen of this our western 
 
 sea, 
 
 Of strength unshaken, yea of ageless fame 
 inviolate.
 
 LAMORNA BAY 
 
 THE wraith of the mist round the head- 
 land curled 
 
 With her winding-sheet for the dead un- 
 furled, 
 
 Talons outstretched for the mariner bold, 
 To clutch him a drowned corpse and 
 
 cold, 
 
 And fling him below to depths untold ; 
 And the billows on high were madly hurled 
 In a riotous fury of glee, the day 
 That the Rolf went down in Lamorna 
 Bay. 
 
 Then merrily laughed the storm-king grim 
 At booty so rich lightly tossed to him, 
 And his call shrilled over the ocean bed : 
 " Speed, brothers, speed, for the feast is 
 
 spread, 
 And we glut our maws this night on the 
 
 dead." 
 As the cry died moaning in caverns dim 
 
 37
 
 38 LAMORNA BAY 
 
 From their lairs sprang the fiends all 
 
 gaunt and grey 
 When the Rolf went down in Lamorna 
 
 Bay. 
 
 But a shaft of light smote quivering home 
 To the waving weeds and the deep green 
 
 gloom ; 
 
 And the goblin-rout all shuddering flies, 
 While the mariner sleeps with closed 
 
 eyes 
 Till the last great day, when the cry 
 
 " Arise ! " 
 Shall ring down the vault of Heaven's 
 
 dome, 
 
 And the sorrowful sea give up her prey, 
 The dead that were drowned in Lamorna 
 Bay.
 
 AT NIGHT 
 
 AS some lone watcher through the 
 anxious night 
 
 Sees o'er the darkened infinite of sea 
 Move swiftly by a light on unseen ship 
 Faring afar to haven long desired 
 And vanish sudden round the headland dim 
 Whose outline strikes a blur athwart the 
 
 stars, 
 
 So doth this little life of troubled man 
 Illumine with faint gleam a moment chos'n 
 From out eternity's unseen content 
 Then pass forever to forgotten peace. 
 
 39
 
 SURGE OF THE SEA 
 
 'HpHE "Golden Day" set sail to the west 
 ,L (O the murmuring song of the surge 
 
 of the sea) 
 And they waved her good luck, ay, luck 
 
 of the best 
 As she cleared from the harbour 'mid 
 
 laughter and jest, 
 And the waves leapt up in answering glee. 
 
 t 
 
 The waves leapt up in answering glee 
 (O the unquiet cry of the surge in the 
 
 west) 
 When the " Golden Day " shook her sails 
 
 out free 
 And dipped from sight o'er the brim of the 
 
 sea: 
 
 But their hearts were sad that loved her 
 the best. 
 
 Their hearts were sad that loved her well 
 (O the desolate moan of the surge of the 
 sea) 
 
 40
 
 SURGE OF THE SEA 41 
 
 For the wind came chasing the leaping swell 
 As it chafed and fretted the tossing bell 
 Ringing of hidden and jagged teeth, 
 All hungry for prey, of the reef beneath 
 (O flee from the perilous surge, O flee !) 
 
 The sun went down in a glory of red 
 (O the sorrowful call of the surge of the 
 
 sea) 
 
 And darkness arose from its ocean bed, 
 The darkness that shrouds the lost and the 
 
 dead: 
 
 Now God have mercy on you and me, 
 And guard us both from the surge of the 
 
 sea, 
 The pitiless song of the surge of the sea.
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 " 1_) RIGHT morn, summer morn, 
 JL-) Flashing and gleaming 
 Over the golden corn 
 While earth lies dreaming, 
 Strong with our work to cope 
 Call us untiring, 
 Child's hope, man's hope, 
 Courage inspiring." 
 
 I sate at edge of an enchanted wood 
 Where, laughing softly, to the day 
 
 there ran 
 
 A rivulet in happy solitude 
 Unscathed by footprint of unquiet man ; 
 Beyond, through arched spaces, mid the 
 
 oak-trees' shade 
 The sunlit waters of a far-seen lake 
 
 displayed 
 Their shining blue by silent marge which 
 
 fairy feet had kissed, 
 
 And flung their challenge merrily to the 
 wraiths of the mountain mist. 
 
 42
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 43 
 
 Soon gleeful laughter echoed through 
 
 the trees, 
 And a gay band of children I 
 
 espied, 
 Their tresses loosely floating on the 
 
 breeze 
 With nimble feet mocking the elfin's 
 
 pride 
 In jocund revelry come dancing by the 
 
 rill 
 On sward with bluebell gay and nodding 
 
 daffodil, 
 Or flushing hyacinth chiming gentle bells 
 
 in shy delight 
 
 To call the timorous dryad to the glade in 
 pleased affright. 
 
 As in old time the master craftsman's 
 hand 
 
 Wrought children's music out of 
 sculptured stone, 
 
 And still all sweetly chants the angelic 
 band 
 
 To harp and psaltery their antiphon 
 " Laudate Dominum in cithara," again 
 "In cymbalis laudate" swells the ex- 
 ultant strain
 
 44 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 Till the imprisoned music breaks free from 
 
 its marble shrine 
 As boyish voices heavenward raise their 
 
 canticle divine. 
 
 " Deep noon, ruddy noon, 
 Hot on the mountains, 
 Parching the grasses soon, 
 Quelling the fountains, 
 Spare thou the burnt soil 
 Lest all we cherish, 
 Child's toil, man's toil, 
 Fruitlessly perish." 
 
 Scarce had the children's laughter died 
 away 
 
 And playful Echo stayed her answer- 
 ing call, 
 
 Youth in his strength came riding 
 sturdily, 
 
 With maiden blush and resolute heart 
 
 withal j 
 In quest of war and honour's meed in 
 
 haste he spurred 
 
 Where beckoning heights and black 
 stern crags allured j
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 45 
 
 Though toil be his and peril's threat, 
 though guile's caress ensnare, 
 
 If not to conquer ere life end, yet resolute 
 to dare. 
 
 But now the sun climbed high in 
 
 heaven's dome, 
 The weary flowers bowed their heavy 
 
 heads j 
 As on some rockbound shore the line 
 
 of foam 
 Alone marks Ocean's heaving, as it 
 
 spreads 
 A curving fringe of white the slumbering 
 
 cliffs along, 
 While mariners drift idly and hushed 
 
 the billow's song : 
 
 So round the forest's vesture dark em- 
 broidery of light 
 
 Ran gleaming, as the path of stars girdles 
 the brooding night. 
 
 Sudden the silence broke, for ringing 
 
 mail 
 With clash of arms resounded through 
 
 the glade, 
 As down the woodland path knight 
 
 Percivale,
 
 46 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 In armour dint by many a blow 
 
 arrayed, 
 Rode swift to right the wrong and evil 
 
 to redress 
 
 In manhood's strong simplicity of hardi- 
 ness 
 Before the shadows lengthened and the 
 
 hurrying daylight fled 
 Beyond the darkening mountain ridge 
 where the Sangreal shone rose-red. 
 
 "Cold wind, cruel wind, 
 Merciless straining, 
 Hearest not, unkind, 
 Nature's complaining ? 
 Driving the mist and snow 
 Swift to obey thee, 
 Child's foe, man's foe, 
 When wilt thou stay thee ? " 
 
 Then stormy evening lit with amethyst 
 The fronting crags, whose precipices 
 
 wild 
 
 Up sprang in massive armoury, nor wist 
 Of pity's pleading, stark and unbe- 
 
 guiled,
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 47 
 
 And o'er the sullen frowning crests the 
 
 Imperial moon 
 Moved stately slow to coming Empery, 
 
 and soon 
 Over reluctant day night flung her mantle 
 
 flowing free, 
 
 And the voice of the rivers sang her sway 
 in hidden melody. 
 
 Then through the forest greedy Death 
 
 came hasting 
 
 In likeness of a lean and panting hound, 
 His avid jaws agape, already tasting 
 Remembered joys of slaughter and of 
 
 wound : 
 The gnarled oaks all shuddering spied 
 
 his furtive tread 
 While chilling blasts from festering 
 
 charnel heaps of dead 
 Smote broken boughs red-flecked and sere 
 
 afar in wild dismay 
 
 Where gluttonous sped on swooping wing 
 his talon'd birds of prey. 
 
 O hungry death, that followeth life 
 
 so fast 
 And marrest marriage feast with 
 
 funeral knell,
 
 48 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 Commingling present grief with 
 
 pleasure past, 
 Who may thy pitiless hunting bold 
 
 repel ? 
 I marked thy trackings over barren fell 
 
 and dale ; 
 The thronging phantoms join thine army 
 
 of assail ; 
 And shivering Night drew closer yet her 
 
 heavy sable pall 
 
 Lest the angel of doom should sheathe his 
 sword and the ripe ears cease to 
 fall. 
 
 " Calm eve, quiet eve, 
 Ere comes the morrow, 
 Life from its woe retrieve 
 Burden and sorrow j 
 Dreaming, thy peace confest, 
 Lie croft and shieling ; 
 Child's rest, man's rest, 
 Grant us thy healing." 
 
 Long brooded stillness : black it was 
 
 and dread 
 As when the seer defied Meremptah's 
 
 pride
 
 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 49 
 
 And darkness, shadowless and awful, 
 
 spread 
 
 At Jahveh's bidding over Nilus' tide ; 
 Dark as in Ocean's fathomless un- 
 
 plumbed deep 
 The naked rocks Archaean night eternal 
 
 keep, 
 Dark as was Chaos' timeless void before 
 
 God spake the word 
 
 And on the waters' face there moved the 
 Spirit of the Lord. 
 
 At length a whisper through the 
 
 forest went, 
 The herald of the dawn, at whose 
 
 behest 
 The veil of darkness in the East was 
 
 rent, 
 And, as of old to guide the sacred 
 
 quest, 
 Pearl of the Orient silver-set shone out 
 
 the star. 
 Crimson and gold, like Seraph bands all 
 
 dight for war 
 The rays of morning glancing pierced and 
 
 smote the distant ridge 
 Where a stream leapt white in a purple 
 gulf spanned by a rainbow bridge. 
 4
 
 50 THE PASSAGE OF LIFE 
 
 Then to the sound of music deep and 
 
 chant, 
 The vanquisher of Death and Night, 
 
 Love came. 
 All blithely sang the birds ; the 
 
 fragrant plant 
 
 And flowers in multitudinous acclaim 
 Hailed Him as victor : worn and pale 
 
 his brow, yet glad 
 With solemn joy which knew nor sorrow 
 
 left nor shade ; 
 For the song of the redeemed was the 
 
 crown of Love's emprise, 
 And woodland, lake, and mountain, ante- 
 room of Paradise. 
 
 " Strength of the mountain height, 
 Torrent-scarred, lonely, 
 Myriad waters bright 
 Known to thee only, 
 Wind's assault, storm's blast, 
 Bravely defying, 
 Thine be our strength at last, 
 Living or dying ! "
 
 O 
 
 EARTH TOKENS 
 
 EARTH, gaunt Earth, 
 The storm is raging 'neath rent 
 
 skies, 
 
 The bare hill-side is lashed with rain, 
 The torrent's cry of savage pain 
 Voices the mountain's agonies ; 
 The hideous darkness mocks the gaze ; 
 The greedy shifting moss ensnares ; 
 The levin-brand that lurid glares 
 Naught but the naked rock displays. 
 In night our souls enthralling 
 And bitterness appalling, 
 Chasm to chasm calling, 
 Shall life be worth the striving, 
 Our toiling, our contriving, 
 Of any worth ? 
 
 O Earth, fair Earth, 
 
 The wind sweeps o'er thy mountain side, 
 The pine is mirrored in the lake 
 And bracken rich and heather make 
 
 51
 
 52 EARTH TOKENS 
 
 A joyance gay where dreams abide j 
 Yonder the road dips o'er the brow, 
 When purple hills and setting sun 
 The wanderer warn of journey done, 
 To hamlet in the vale below. 
 
 When all thy soul lies dreaming, 
 Thy face of heaven seeming, 
 Thy smile our hearts redeeming, 
 Shall joy not conquer sighing, 
 Strength weariness, and dying 
 Again be birth ?
 
 AT CARLISLE 
 
 T3EYOND the river's bound, which 
 A-J floweth grey 
 And desolate towards the lonely sea, 
 The lights shine faintly out at close of 
 
 day 
 From Border lands, where once the rover 
 
 free 
 
 In olden days had shuddered to espy 
 The Norman's citadel and battlement 
 Upsoaring grimly to the hostile sky, 
 Then fearful back his gloomy way he 
 
 went. 
 
 The sombre clouds hang heavy, leaden- 
 
 hued; 
 
 The grey roofs of the ancient town below 
 Glisten with rain fresh fallen, as imbued 
 With pity's tears for poverty and woe 
 Haunting these narrow streets, whose 
 
 children, pale, 
 Barefooted, ragged, hungry, noisy, wait 
 
 53
 
 54 AT CARLISLE 
 
 To see if aught men's charity avail 
 And Dives reck of Lazarus at his gate. 
 
 Here once the Highland clansman fierce, 
 
 too leal 
 To that unhappy Royal race, whose 
 
 bane 
 It was to win men's love and, winning, 
 
 feel 
 
 Such gratitude as squandered it in vain, 
 Had roamed, now victor, now in panic 
 
 flight 
 From Derby with the English following 
 
 fleet, 
 And cressets flaring lit the troubled 
 
 night, 
 
 While pipes rang shrilly in that wild re- 
 treat. 
 
 Then brandished arms despairing menaced 
 God 
 
 As, passing by the quiet Minster's 
 shade 
 
 Where once their vaunting steps in triumph 
 trod, 
 
 They saw the autumn of their hopes dis- 
 played ;
 
 AT CARLISLE 55 
 
 And where the trees dropt yellowing 
 
 leaves they heard 
 No more the shout of welcome's joyous 
 
 cry : 
 
 Only the dank and ominous air was stirred 
 By music's melancholy psalmody. 
 
 Like to a vision in a forest dreamt 
 
 By northern lakeside, so in haste they 
 
 came 
 
 A troop of warriors weary, all unkempt, 
 Fast through the silent town, with angry 
 
 shame 
 Bright burning on their foreheads ; and 
 
 behind 
 Meseemed there followed grimly, wreathed 
 
 in crape, 
 
 A figure ghostly, axe and cord to bind, 
 Grisly and noiseless, mocking such escape. 
 
 Within the Minster walls this lonely 
 
 eve, 
 Which fain would flash to sunset with 
 
 their glow 
 Of rose-red stone, men's busy thoughts 
 
 may weave 
 Texture of fancy's dreams of long ago,
 
 56 AT CARLISLE 
 
 When to the rushing wings of Gabriel, 
 The maid in adoration lowly bent ; 
 For sudden breaks upon the silence' spell 
 A boy's soft treble, clear and confident ! 
 
 O surely Paradise seemed incomplete, 
 And God lacked somewhat of His perfect 
 
 joy 
 Though Seraphim and Cherubim should 
 
 greet 
 
 Their Maker with undying song's employ 
 In choral grandeur solemn, throbbing 
 
 deep 
 Through aisles of Heaven : then the Father 
 
 smiled 
 At hearkening earth's voices, and bade 
 
 keep 
 Place in His choir for a little child. 
 
 Again we pass without the Minster 
 
 walls ; 
 The windows darken ; hushed the voice 
 
 of prayer ; 
 Of time and hopeless circumstance poor 
 
 thralls, 
 Nor yet eternity's fruition share ;
 
 AT CARLISLE 57 
 
 When down the street fierce-swept by 
 
 lashing rain 
 In sodden garb, yet glad with earnest 
 
 gaze 
 
 Comes to rebuke our little faith and vain 
 A company of singers to God's praise. 
 
 O song of faith in world grown bitter 
 
 cold, 
 
 O trusting hearts that span the ages old, 
 In yon far Syrian town beside the lake 
 Where Christ His thronging hearers' thirst 
 
 did slake 
 
 With streams of living water aye, and fed 
 Their hunger with Himself, of life the 
 
 Bread, 
 How would thy faith have bid His anguish 
 
 cease, 
 Thy love have found His love, thy trust 
 
 his peace ! 
 
 O country far, where we had lost our 
 
 way 
 
 Spending our portion given heedlessly, 
 Our squandered hours as broken potsherds 
 
 flung 
 Remorselessly Time's wastage heaps 
 
 among,
 
 58 AT CARLISLE 
 
 God all forgotten when the need was 
 
 come 
 Stumbling and faint we turned us back 
 
 for home ; 
 While we were yet a great way off, the 
 
 Christ, 
 Seeing, had pity, and His love sufficed.
 
 THE FULNESS OF LIFE 
 
 FOAMING and wrack of the tide, 
 Cold light of a wintry sun, 
 Labour, yesterday's pride, 
 Ended, yet scarce begun : 
 
 White-capped billows that fret 
 Rocks of a wreck-strewn shore, 
 
 Joy that knew not regret 
 Now lost evermore : 
 
 Athwart the surge and the wind 
 The fisher-bird speedeth alone, 
 
 Lonely as soul that has sinned 
 And reapeth its own. 
 
 Vain as beat of the sea, 
 Empty as moorland mist, 
 
 Such the vision of life to me 
 Until filled by Christ.
 
 60 THE FULNESS OF LIFE 
 
 Then colours sprang out o'er the deep, 
 A glory of light lit the foam, 
 
 The waves sank softly on sleep, 
 
 And the storm-tossed ship came home.
 
 THE VOICE OF THE HILLS 
 
 A^ONDER the waterfall, child of crag 
 JL and mountain, 
 Cleaves the cold mist and from its fetters 
 
 freed 
 Leaps bright and clear to plenish pool and 
 
 fountain 
 
 Down to earth's crying, hearkening her 
 need. 
 
 Deep in the bosom of the fells its spring- 
 ing, 
 Rushes and moss its cradle, and for 
 
 song 
 Wind's deep rejoicing, down it foameth, 
 
 bringing 
 Cleansing for foulness, purity for wrong. 
 
 Man in the low land, spent with toil, mis- 
 trusting 
 
 Whether there be a God to pity pain, 
 His heaven but gloom, and devils beneath 
 
 it lusting 
 For souls and bodies, sold alike for gain : 
 
 61
 
 62 THE VOICE OF THE HILLS 
 
 Refuse and mire, filth and desolation, 
 Pillars of smoke by day and fire by 
 
 night, 
 
 Guiding the chosen children of the nation 
 Swift to their promised country of de- 
 light : 
 
 Ruby and sapphire, emerald resplendent : 
 Ruby for heart's blood shed of Mam- 
 mon's slaves ; 
 
 Sapphire for pride's magnificence ascen- 
 dent ; 
 
 Emerald the grass above its victims' 
 graves : 
 
 Faint on the horizon, when the eve is fall- 
 ing, 
 
 Yet may he mark the purple line of hills, 
 Hear in the silence, vanished hopes recall- 
 ing, 
 
 Voice of the mountains, music of the 
 rills. 
 
 Surely the mountains answer him, con- 
 fessing 
 
 Faithless his weariness craving but re- 
 lease,
 
 THE VOICE OF THE HILLS 63 
 
 " God giveth strength to Man for wrong's 
 
 redressing, 
 
 Then at the last His own reward of 
 peace."
 
 O FORTUNATOS 
 
 " Neque ille 
 Aut doluit miserans inopem aut invidit habenti." 
 
 ONLY the clouds of heaven above 
 them, only the moorland spread 
 below : 
 
 What should they know of the city's needs 
 who only the mountains' loneliness 
 know ? 
 
 Down in the lowlands manhood toiling, 
 womanhood grieving, roar and fret, 
 
 Hunger and crime and despair their 
 counsellor, wealth and misery, yoke- 
 fellows yet ; 
 
 Childhood sobbing its wants unheeded ; 
 
 boyhood robbed of its chance of life ; 
 Mammon flinging contemptuous morsels to 
 
 ruined maiden and shrinking wife ; 
 
 M 
 
 G4
 
 O FORTUNATOS 65 
 
 Riches flaunting on dusty highways ; slime 
 or stench of the sun-scorched slum ; 
 
 Smoke-grimed chimney and reeking alley, 
 foetid gutter and noisome gloom : 
 
 What is the birthright of England's boy- 
 hood, Lord of the Manor and King of 
 the Mart ? 
 
 Have you no fields you could give for 
 their playing ? Have you no pleasures 
 to give for their part ? 
 
 Singer beloved of pasture and hamlet, 
 ploughshare and vintage and children 
 and kine, 
 
 All the affection and beauty and wonder, 
 passion and glory of Italy thine : 
 
 Thou knewest anger for poverty's suffer- 
 ing : thou knewest longing for riches 
 to save 
 
 (Ah, if the wealthy would hearken the 
 crying !) some of thy children from 
 pain or the grave : 
 
 Thou turnedst entranced away from the 
 sobbing, singing thy haven from fury 
 and fear
 
 66 O FORTUNATOS 
 
 Peace of the countryside, joy of the peasant, 
 the lowing of cattle, the husbandman's 
 cheer. 
 
 Wouldst thou enchant us, O singer eternal, 
 here in the silence and calm of the 
 hills, 
 
 In thine all-merciful love for all living 
 blinding our eyes to humanity's ills ? 
 
 Could not thy wonderful pity and passion 
 find other solace for evil and wrong, 
 
 Or didst thou leave this the burden of 
 sorrow to Him who should follow, 
 the Child of thy song ? 
 
 Nay, but His voice soundeth faintly, how 
 faintly ! heard 'mid the clanging of 
 piston and rod : 
 
 " Children, how hardly may they that 
 trust riches seek to inherit the King- 
 dom of God ! " 
 
 Only the clouds of heaven above them, 
 only the moorland spread below : 
 
 What should they reck of the city's needs 
 who only the mountains' loveliness 
 know ?
 
 THE ROSE 
 
 A I A HY scent a caress 
 -L And thy touch a kiss, 
 When Love stoops to earth 
 There is joy at the birth 
 
 In heaven no less 
 
 I wis. 
 
 Red for the glory of pain 
 
 Love suffered, and died ; 
 
 But white for laughter 
 
 Of joy thereafter, 
 
 For sunshine through rain 
 At Eastertide.
 
 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 THE glow of the sunset yields to eve ; 
 The robin sings 
 
 A moment, then hushes, for night to weave 
 Sad imaginings. 
 
 O'er the black of the beechwood gleams a 
 star ; 
 
 The wind is still, 
 Lest its moan in the mystical twilight mar 
 
 With presage of ill. 
 
 Out on the deepening night there glide 
 
 Shadows of fear, 
 As eddies athwart the roll of the tide 
 
 By the sandhills drear. 
 
 To-morrow is hope for the world ? Yet 
 first 
 
 Come sorrow and pain ; 
 And the bleached white desert is long 
 athirst, 
 
 Athirst for the rain. 
 
 66
 
 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 69 
 
 To-morrow is joy for the world ? Yet see, 
 What hope of the birth 
 
 Of the Joy-Child Christ, when that misery 
 Broods o'er the earth ? 
 
 The cradle so dimly seen, one saith, 
 
 May be a bier, 
 
 For the wings of the desolate Angel of 
 Death 
 
 Are passing near. 
 
 Dark night of the Timeless, thine embrace 
 Close wraps us round : 
 
 On the drifting and treacherous sand no 
 trace 
 
 Of the wanderer found ! 
 
 Is it for ever in spectral quest 
 
 Alone he strays ? 
 Who knows whether life or death be best 
 
 This end of days ? 
 
 Were the tidings of joy in the Angels' song, 
 
 Or of grief and loss, 
 Of friend's betrayal, of bitter wrong, 
 
 O babe of the Cross ?
 
 70 ON CHRISTMAS EVE 
 
 To-morrow comes Love to the world, for 
 a Child 
 
 Is born, a King ? 
 Canst hear o'er the raging of waters wild 
 
 The Birth-bells ring ? 
 
 Love comes to His own ? Do His own at 
 least 
 
 Receive Him r Nay 
 But 
 
 Children are singing : there is light in 
 the east : 
 
 It is Christmas Day.
 
 A WEST-COUNTRY CAROL 
 
 O 
 
 UR night lay black, a'frowning, 
 O'er the cruel crags o' the shore, 
 
 When the star shone clear 
 
 On the manger bare, 
 Through the open door. 
 
 Our waves rushed in, a'foaming, 
 
 From the driving storm all wild, 
 When the Christmas night 
 In the East was bright 
 For love o' the Child. 
 
 Our sea-birds flew, a'crying 
 
 Through the gale adrift with spray, 
 When Mary prayed 
 At the cradle head, 
 Waiting for day. 
 
 Hadst come, babe Christ, to our West-land, 
 The song of the dreaming deep, 
 And its waves at rest 
 Would have been the best 
 To soothe Thy sleep. 
 
 71
 
 72 A WEST-COUNTRY CAROL 
 
 Our fisher-lads, a'watching 
 
 By the nets at yonder buoy, 
 Would have sung out clear 
 As the heavenly choir, 
 For joy. 

 
 IN EXETER COLLEGE CHAPEL 
 
 The old King : 
 
 I SEE the star gleaming : 
 It shines as my gold ; 
 'Tis age does the dreaming 
 In winter's cold. 
 
 The young King : 
 
 I see the star burning : 
 The gifts that I bring 
 
 Glow as the returning 
 Life in the Spring. 
 
 The Eastern King : 
 
 I see the star setting 
 In fragrance rose-red ; 
 
 My myrrh's for forgetting 
 Night's sorrow dead. 
 
 73
 
 74 IN EXETER COLLEGE CHAPEL 
 
 Cantant pueri : 
 
 Shepherds and Monarchs and Angels, ye 
 
 throng 
 
 Fast to the Star as it sinks in the West; 
 Haste then with offerings, prayer, riches, 
 
 song 
 
 Which is the gift shall please Him the 
 best ? 
 
 Worship ye first, but we children come 
 
 after ; 
 Yours to bring jewels and frankincense 
 
 old; 
 Mother and Child, will ye smile on our 
 
 laughter, 
 Take love for rubies and carols for gold ? 
 
 Respondent omnes : 
 
 Day may break drearily, life seem but loss; 
 
 Christ sends the vision again for one 
 
 hour: 
 Prayers rise wearily ; riches are dross ; 
 
 How shall song lose its power ? 
 
 See, in His garden the flowers are spring- 
 ing: 
 
 Say ye " He leaves us ; we toil in the 
 wild
 
 IN EXETER COLLEGE CHAPEL 75 
 
 Lonely, forsaken " ? Nay, hark to the 
 
 singing, 
 
 Christ newly-born in the joy of each 
 child.
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 
 
 SNOW on the hills, and a grey north 
 wind ; 
 
 A dull sea smoking with wisps of mist ; 
 And a cold sun striving in vain to find 
 Its way to an earth it long since kissed : 
 
 Ah, where is the warmth and the love and 
 
 desire 
 Of summer's own home in our land of 
 
 the West ? 
 
 Grown chill and old, as the old year's quire 
 Of song a dirge, and our faith a jest. 
 
 Night falls on the dying year, its wings 
 Are heavy with sorrow : the dark sea 
 
 heaves 
 With sullen complaint on the shore where 
 
 springs 
 No life save of weed the sodden leaves. 
 
 Then a whisper, a rift in the pall of cloud, 
 A murmur and answering call from the 
 sea, 
 
 76
 
 NEW YEAR'S EVE 77 
 
 And the hush of despair is ended : aloud 
 Shouts the wind of the west in its 
 mastery. 
 
 Sweep the heavens, O wild west wind, in 
 
 thy chase 
 Of the clouds to their lair in the Eastern 
 
 gloom : 
 
 The year is renewed in thy mighty embrace, 
 Doubt turned to triumph, and God our 
 own.
 
 AVE ATQUE VALE 
 
 IRON and angry red, 
 The glow of a molten sky : 
 All men are born 
 To wrath and scorn : 
 
 And then to die. 
 
 Silver and shining grey, 
 
 A gleam on the lake's still breast 
 From strife comes peace, 
 From grief, release : 
 
 And then long rest. 
 
 Azure and glowing gold, 
 
 The rainbow dawn on the height : 
 The life of man 
 Lasts a moment's span : 
 
 And then comes light. 
 
 78
 
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