Will there be beds for me and all who seek? Yea, beds for all who come. DEVOTIONAL PIECES 'THE LOVE OF CHRIST WHICH PASSETH KNOWLEDGE' I bore with thee long weary days and nights, Through many pangs of heart, through many tears; I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, For three and thirty years. Who else had dared for thee what I have dared? I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above; I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared Give thou Me love for love. For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth, For thee I trembled in the nightly frost 10 Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth Why wilt thou still be lost? I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced Men only marked upon My shoulders borne The branding cross; and shouted hungryvoiced, Or wagged their heads in scorn. Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame; I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 20 A thief upon My right hand and My left; Six hours alone, athirst, in misery At length in death one smote My heart and cleft A hidingplace for thee. Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep So did I win a kingdom,share my crown; A harvest,come and reap. 'A BRUISED REED SHALL HE NOT BREAK' I will accept thy will to do and be, Thy hatred and intolerance of sin, Thy will at least to love, that burns within And thirsteth after Me So will I render fruitful, blessing still, The germs and small beginnings in thy heart, Because thy will cleaves to the better part. Alas, I cannot will. Dost not thou will, poor soul? Yet I receive The inner unseen longings of the soul, 10 I guide them turning towards Me; I control And charm hearts till they grieve If thou desire, it yet shall come to pass, Though thou but wish indeed to choose My love; For I have power in earth and heaven above. I cannot wish, alas! What, neither choose nor wish to choose? and yet I still must strive to win thee and constrain For thee I hung upon the cross in pain, How then can I forget? 20 If thou as yet dost neither love, nor hate, Nor choose, nor wish,resign thyself, be still Till I infuse love, hatred, longing, will. I do not deprecate. A BETTER RESURRECTION I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for hopes or fears. Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf O Jesus, quicken me. My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk; 10 Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see Yet rise it shallthe sap of Spring; O Jesus, rise in me. My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot hold One drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching cold 20 Cast in the fire the perished thing, Melt and remould it, till it be A royal cup for Him my King O Jesus, drink of me. ADVENT This Advent moon shines cold and clear, These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after year And still their flame is strong. 'Watchman, what of the night?' we cry, Heartsick with hope deferred 'No speaking signs are in the sky,' Is still the watchman's word. The Porter watches at the gate, The servants watch within; 10 The watch is long betimes and late, The prize is slow to win. 'Watchman, what of the night?' But still His answer sounds the same 'No daybreak tops the utmost hill, Nor pale our lamps of flame.' One to another hear them speak The patient virgins wise 'Surely He is not far to seek' 'All night we watch and rise.' 20 'The days are evil looking back, The coming days are dim; Yet count we not His promise slack, But watch and wait for Him.' One with another, soul with soul, They kindle fire from fire 'Friends watch us who have touched the goal.' 'They urge us, come up higher.' 'With them shall rest our waysore feet, With them is built our home, 30 With Christ.''They sweet, but He most sweet, Sweeter than honeycomb.' There no more parting, no more pain, The distant ones brought near, The lost so long are found again, Long lost but longer dear Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, Nor heart conceived that rest, With them our good things long deferred, With Jesus Christ our Best. 40 We weep because the night is long, We laugh for day shall rise, We sing a slow contented song And knock at Paradise. Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept For us, we hold Him fast; And will not let Him go except He bless us first or last. Weeping we hold Him fast tonight; We will not let Him go 50 Till daybreak smite our wearied sight And summer smite the snow Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove Shall coo the livelong day; Then He shall say, 'Arise, My love, My fair one, come away.' THE THREE ENEMIES THE FLESH 'Sweet, thou art pale.' 'More pale to see, Christ hung upon the cruel tree And bore His Father's wrath for me.' 'Sweet, thou art sad.' 'Beneath a rod More heavy, Christ for my sake trod The winepress of the wrath of God.' 'Sweet, thou art weary.' 'Not so Christ Whose mighty love of me sufficed For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist.' 'Sweet, thou art footsore.' 'If I bleed, 10 His feet have bled; yea in my need His Heart once bled for mine indeed.' THE WORLD 'Sweet, thou art young.' 'So He was young Who for my sake in silence hung Upon the Cross with Passion wrung.' 'Look, thou art fair.' 'He was more fair Than men, Who deigned for me to wear A visage marred beyond compare.' 'And thou hast riches.' 'Daily bread All else is His Who, living, dead, 20 For me lacked where to lay His Head.' 'And life is sweet.' 'It was not so To Him, Whose Cup did overflow With mine unutterable woe.' THE DEVIL 'Thou drinkest deep.' 'When Christ would sup He drained the dregs from out my cup So how should I be lifted up?' 'Thou shalt win Glory.' 'In the skies, Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes Lest they should look on vanities.' 30 'Thou shalt have Knowledge.' 'Helpless dust! In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just.' 'And Might.' 'Get thee behind me. Lord, Who hast redeemed and not abhorred My soul, oh keep it by Thy Word.' THE ONE CERTAINTY Sonnet Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith, All things are vanity. The eye and ear Cannot be filled with what they see and hear. Like early dew, or like the sudden breath Of wind, or like the grass that withereth, Is man, tossed to and fro by hope and fear So little joy hath he, so little cheer, Till all things end in the long dust of death. Today is still the same as yesterday, Tomorrow also even as one of them; And there is nothing new under the sun Until the ancient race of Time be run, The old thorns shall grow out of the old stem, And morning shall be cold and twilight grey. CHRISTIAN AND JEW A DIALOGUE 'Oh happy happy land! Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light.' 'Alas, I have not eyes for this fair sight Hold fast my hand.' 'As in a soft wind, they Bend all one blessed way, Each bowed in his own glory, star with star.' 'I cannot see so far, Here shadows are.' 10 'Whitewinged the cherubim, Yet whiter seraphim, Glow white with intense fire of love.' 'Mine eyes are dim I look in vain above, And miss their hymn.' 'Angels, Archangels cry One to other ceaselessly (I hear them sing) One "Holy, Holy, Holy" to their King.' 20 'I do not hear them, I.' 'At one side Paradise Is curtained from the rest, Made green for wearied eyes; Much softer than the breast Of motherdove clad in a rainbow's dyes. 'All precious souls are there Most safe, elect by grace, All tears are wiped for ever from their face Untired in prayer 30 They wait and praise Hidden for a little space. 'Boughs of the Living Vine They spread in summer shine Green leaf with leaf Sap of the Royal Vine it stirs like wine In all both less and chief. 'Sing to the Lord, All spirits of all flesh, sing; For He hath not abhorred 40 Our low estate nor scorn'd our offering Shout to our King.' 'But Zion said My Lord forgetteth me. Lo, she hath made her bed In dust; forsaken weepeth she Where alien rivers swell the sea. 'She laid her body as the ground, Her tender body as the ground to those Who passed; her harpstrings cannot sound 50 In a strange land; discrowned She sits, and drunk with woes.' 'O drunken not with wine, Whose sins and sorrows have fulfilled the sum, Be not afraid, arise, be no more dumb; Arise, shine, For thy light is come.' 'Can these bones live?' 'God knows The prophet saw such clothed with flesh and skin; A wind blew on them and life entered in; 60 They shook and rose. Hasten the time, O Lord, blot out their sin, Let life begin.' SWEET DEATH The sweetest blossoms die. And so it was that, going day by day Unto the church to praise and pray, And crossing the green churchyard thoughtfully, I saw how on the graves the flowers Shed their fresh leaves in showers, And how their perfume rose up to the sky Before it passed away. The youngest blossoms die. They die, and fall and nourish the rich earth 10 From which they lately had their birth; Sweet life, but sweeter death that passeth by And is as though it had not been All colors turn to green The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly, The grass hath lasting worth. And youth and beauty die. So be it, O my God, Thou God of truth Better than beauty and than youth Are Saints and Angels, a glad company; 20 And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease, Are better far than these. Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why Prefer to glean with Ruth? SYMBOLS I watched a rosebud very long Brought on by dew and sun and shower, Waiting to see the perfect flower Then, when I thought it should be strong, It opened at the matin hour And fell at evensong. I watched a nest from day to day, A green nest full of pleasant shade, Wherein three speckled eggs were laid But when they should have hatched in May, 10 The two old birds had grown afraid Or tired, and flew away. Then in my wrath I broke the bough That I had tended so with care, Hoping its scent should fill the air; I crushed the eggs, not heeding how Their ancient promise had been fair I would have vengeance now. But the dead branch spoke from the sod, And the eggs answered me again 20 Because we failed dost thou complain? Is thy wrath just? And what if God, Who waiteth for thy fruits in vain, Should also take the rod? 'CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD' Flowers preach to us if we will hear The rose saith in the dewy morn I am most fair; Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn. The poppy saith amid the corn Let but my scarlet head appear And I am held in scorn; Yet juice of subtle virtue lies Within my cup of curious dyes. 10 The lilies say Behold how we Preach without words of purity. The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read. But not alone the fairest flowers The merest grass Along the roadside where we pass, 20 Lichen and moss and sturdy weed, Tell of His love who sends the dew, The rain and sunshine too, To nourish one small seed. THE WORLD Sonnet By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair But all night as the moon so changeth she; Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy And subtle serpents gliding in her hair. By day she woos me to the outer air, Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety But through the night, a beast she grins at me, A very monster void of love and prayer. By day she stands a lie by night she stands In all the naked horror of the truth With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands. Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell My soul to her, give her my life and youth, Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell? A TESTIMONY I said of laughter it is vain. Of mirth I said what profits it? Therefore I found a book, and writ Therein how ease and also pain, How health and sickness, every one Is vanity beneath the sun. Man walks in a vain shadow; he Disquieteth himself in vain. The things that were shall be again; The rivers do not fill the sea, 10 But turn back to their secret source; The winds too turn upon their course. Our treasures moth and rust corrupt, Or thieves break through and steal, or they Make themselves wings and fly away. One man made merry as he supped, Nor guessed how when that night grew dim, His soul would be required of him. We build our houses on the sand Comely withoutside and within; 20 But when the winds and rains begin To beat on them, they cannot stand; They perish, quickly overthrown, Loose from the very basement stone. All things are vanity, I said Yea vanity of vanities. The rich man dies; and the poor dies The worm feeds sweetly on the dead. Whate'er thou lackest, keep this trust All in the end shall have but dust. 30 The one inheritance, which best And worst alike shall find and share The wicked cease from troubling there, And there the weary are at rest; There all the wisdom of the wise Is vanity of vanities. Man flourishes as a green leaf, And as a leaf doth pass away; Or as a shade that cannot stay, And leaves no track, his course is brief 40 Yet doth man hope and fear and plan Till he is deadoh foolish man! Our eyes cannot be satisfied With seeing, nor our ears be filled With hearing yet we plant and build And buy and make our borders wide; We gather wealth, we gather care, But know not who shall be our heir. Why should we hasten to arise So early, and so late take rest? 50 Our labour is not good; our best Hopes fade; our heart is stayed on lies Verily, we sow wind; and we Shall reap the whirlwind, verily. He who hath little shall not lack; He who hath plenty shall decay Our fathers went; we pass away; Our children follow on our track So generations fail, and so They are renewed, and come and go. 60 The earth is fattened with our dead; She swallows more and doth not cease Therefore her wine and oil increase And her sheaves are not numberd; Therefore her plants are green, and all Her pleasant trees lusty and tall. Therefore the maidens cease to sing, And the young men are very sad; Therefore the sowing is not glad, And mournful is the harvesting. 70 Of high and low, of great and small, Vanity is the lot of all. A King dwelt in Jerusalem; He was the wisest man on earth; He had all riches from his birth, And pleasures till he tired of them; Then, having tested all things, he Witnessed that all are vanity. SLEEP AT SEA Sound the deep waters Who shall sound that deep? Too short the plummet, And the watchmen sleep. Some dream of effort Up a toilsome steep; Some dream of pasture grounds For harmless sheep. White shapes flit to and fro From mast to mast; 10 They feel the distant tempest That nears them fast Great rocks are straight ahead, Great shoals not past; They shout to one another Upon the blast. Oh, soft the streams drop music Between the hills, And musical the birds' nests Beside those rills 20 The nests are types of home Lovehidden from ills, The nests are types of spirits Lovemusic fills. So dream the sleepers, Each man in his place; The lightning shows the smile Upon each face The ship is driving, driving, It drives apace 30 And sleepers smile, and spirits Bewail their case. The lightning glares and reddens Across the skies; It seems but sunset To those sleeping eyes. When did the sun go down On such a wise? From such a sunset When shall day arise? 40 'Wake,' call the spirits But to heedless ears They have forgotten sorrows And hopes and fears; They have forgotten perils And smiles and tears; Their dream has held them long, Long years and years. 'Wake,' call the spirits again But it would take 50 A louder summons To bid them awake. Some dream of pleasure For another's sake; Some dream, forgetful Of a lifelong ache. One by one slowly, Ah, how sad and slow! Wailing and praying The spirits rise and go 60 Clear stainless spirits White as white as snow; Pale spirits, wailing For an overthrow. One by one flitting, Like a mournful bird Whose song is tired at last For no mate is heard. The loving voice is silent, The useless word; 70 One by one flitting Sick with hope deferred. Driving and driving, The ship drives amain While swift from mast to mast Shapes flit again, Flit silent as the silence Where men lie slain; Their shadow cast upon the sails Is like a stain. 80 No voice to call the sleepers, No hand to raise They sleep to death in dreaming, Of length of days. Vanity of vanities, The Preacher says Vanity is the end Of all their ways. FROM HOUSE TO HOME The first was like a dream through summer heat, The second like a tedious numbing swoon, While the halffrozen pulses lagged to beat Beneath a winter moon. 'But,' says my friend, 'what was this thing and where?' It was a pleasureplace within my soul; An earthly paradise supremely fair That lured me from the goal. The first part was a tissue of hugged lies; The second was its ruin fraught with pain 10 Why raise the fair delusion to the skies But to be dashed again? My castle stood of white transparent glass Glittering and frail with many a fretted spire, But when the summer sunset came to pass It kindled into fire. My pleasaunce was an undulating green, Stately with trees whose shadows slept below, With glimpses of smooth gardenbeds between Like flame or sky or snow. 20 Swift squirrels on the pastures took their ease, With leaping lambs safe from the unfeared knife; All singingbirds rejoicing in those trees Fulfilled their careless life. Woodpigeons cooed there, stockdoves nestled there; My trees were full of songs and flowers and fruit, Their branches spread a city to the air And mice lodged in their root. My heath lay farther off, where lizards lived In strange metallic mail, just spied and gone; 30 Like darted lightnings here and there perceived But nowhere dwelt upon. Frogs and fat toads were there to hop or plod And propagate in peace, an uncouth crew, Where velvetheaded rushes rustling nod And spill the morning dew. All caterpillars throve beneath my rule, With snails and slugs in corners out of sight; I never marred the curious sudden stool That perfects in a night. 40 Safe in his excavated gallery The burrowing mole groped on from year to year; No harmless hedgehog curled because of me His prickly back for fear. Oft times one like an angel walked with me, With spiritdiscerning eyes like flames of fire, But deep as the unfathomed endless sea, Fulfilling my desire And sometimes like a snowdrift he was fair, And sometimes like a sunset glorious red, 50 And sometimes he had wings to scale the air With aureole round his head. We sang our songs together by the way, Calls and recalls and echoes of delight; So communed we together all the day, And so in dreams by night. I have no words to tell what way we walked. What unforgotten path now closed and sealed; I have no words to tell all things we talked, All things that he revealed 60 This only can I tell that hour by hour I waxed more feastful, lifted up and glad; I felt no thornprick when I plucked a flower, Felt not my friend was sad. 'Tomorrow,' once I said to him with smiles 'Tonight,' he answered gravely and was dumb, But pointed out the stones that numbered miles And miles to come. 'Not so,' I said 'tomorrow shall be sweet; Tonight is not so sweet as coming days.' 70 Then first I saw that he had turned his feet, Had turned from me his face Running and flying miles and miles he went, But once looked back to beckon with his hand And cry 'Come home, O love, from banishment Come to the distant land.' That night destroyed me like an avalanche; One night turned all my summer back to snow Next morning not a bird upon my branch, Not a lamb woke below, 80 No bird, no lamb, no living breathing thing; No squirrel scampered on my breezy lawn, No mouse lodged by his hoard all joys took wing And fled before that dawn. Azure and sun were starved from heaven above, No dew had fallen, but biting frost lay hoar O love, I knew that I should meet my love, Should find my love no more. 'My love no more,' I muttered stunned with pain I shed no tear, I wrung no passionate hand, 90 Till something whispered 'You shall meet again, Meet in a distant land.' Then with a cry like famine I arose, I lit my candle, searched from room to room, Searched up and down; a war of winds that froze Swept through the blank of gloom. I searched day after day, night after night; Scant change there came to me of night or day 'No more,' I wailed, 'no more' and trimmed my light, And gnashed but did not pray, 100 Until my heart broke and my spirit broke Upon the frostbound floor I stumbled, fell, And moaned 'It is enough withhold the stroke. Farewell, O love, farewell.' Then life swooned from me. And I heard the song Of spheres and spirits rejoicing over me One cried 'Our sister, she hath suffered long.' One answered 'Make her see.' One cried 'Oh blessd she who no more pain, Who no more disappointment shall receive.' 110 One answered 'Not so she must live again; Strengthen thou her to live.' So while I lay entranced a curtain seemed To shrivel with crackling from before my face; Across mine eyes a waxing radiance beamed And showed a certain place. I saw a vision of a woman, where Night and new morning strive for domination; Incomparably pale, and almost fair, And sad beyond expression. 120 Her eyes were like some fireenshrining gem, Were stately like the stars, and yet were tender; Her figure charmed me like a windy stem Quivering and drooped and slender. I stood upon the outer barren ground, She stood on inner ground that budded flowers; While circling in their neverslackening round Danced by the mystic hours. But every flower was lifted on a thorn, And every thorn shot upright from its sands 130 To gall her feet; hoarse laughter pealed in scorn With cruel clapping hands. She bled and wept, yet did not shrink; her strength Was strung up until daybreak of delight She measured measureless sorrow toward its length, And breadth, and depth, and height. Then marked I how a chain sustained her form, A chain of living links not made nor riven It stretched sheer up through lighting, wind, and storm, And anchored fast in heaven. 140 One cried 'How long? yet founded on the Rock She shall do battle, suffer, and attain.' One answered 'Faith quakes in the tempest shock Strengthen her soul again.' I saw a cup sent down and come to her Brimfull of loathing and of bitterness She drank with livid lips that seemed to stir The depth, not make it less. But as she drank I spied a hand distil New wine and virgin honey; making it 150 First bittersweet, then sweet indeed, until She tasted only sweet. Her lips and cheeks waxed rosyfresh and young; Drinking she sang 'My soul shall nothing want;' And drank anew while soft a song was sung, A mystical slow chant. One cried 'The wounds are faithful of a friend The wilderness shall blossom as a rose.' One answered 'Rend the veil, declare the end, Strengthen her ere she goes.' 160 Then earth and heaven were rolled up like a scroll; Time and space, change and death, had passed away; Weight, number, measure, each had reached its whole; The day had come, that day. Multitudesmultitudesstood up in bliss, Made equal to the angels, glorious, fair; With harps, palms, weddinggarments, kiss of peace And crowned and haloed hair. They sang a song, a new song in the height, Harping with harps to Him Who is Strong and True 170 They drank new wine, their eyes saw with new light, Lo, all things were made new. Tier beyond tier they rose and rose and rose So high that it was dreadful, flames with flames No man could number them, no tongue disclose Their secret sacred names. As though one pulse stirred all, one rush of blood Fed all, one breath swept through them myriadvoiced, They struck their harps, cast down their crowns, they stood And worshipped and rejoiced. 180 Each face looked one way like a moon newlit, Each face looked one way towards its Sun of Love; Drank love and bathed in love and mirrored it And knew no end thereof. Glory touched glory on each blessd head, Hands locked dear hands never to sunder more These were the newbegotten from the dead Whom the great birthday bore. Heart answered heart, soul answered soul at rest, Double against each other, filled, sufficed 190 All loving, loved of all; but loving best And best beloved of Christ. I saw that one who lost her love in pain, Who trod on thorns, who drank the loathsome cup; The lost in night, in day was found again; The fallen was lifted up. They stood together in the blessd noon, They sang together through the length of days; Each loving face bent Sunwards like a moon Newlit with love and praise. 200 Therefore, O friend, I would not if I might Rebuild my house of lies, wherein I joyed One time to dwell my soul shall walk in white, Cast down but not destroyed. Therefore in patience I possess my soul; Yea, therefore as a flint I set my face, To pluck down, to build up again the whole But in a distant place. These thorns are sharp, yet I can tread on them; This cup is loathsome, yet He makes it sweet 210 My face is steadfast toward Jerusalem, My heart remembers it. I lift the hanging hands, the feeble knees I, precious more than seven times molten gold Until the day when from his storehouses God shall bring new and old; Beauty for ashes, oil of joy for grief, Garment of praise for spirit of heaviness Although today I fade as doth a leaf, I languish and grow less. 220 Although today He prunes my twigs with pain, Yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root Tomorrow I shall put forth buds again And clothe myself with fruit. Although today I walk in tedious ways, Today His staff is turned into a rod, Yet will I wait for Him the appointed days And stay upon my God. OLD AND NEW YEAR DITTIES 1 New Year met me somewhat sad Old Year leaves me tired, Stripped of favourite things I had Baulked of much desired Yet farther on my road today God willing, farther on my way. New Year coming on apace What have you to give me? Bring you scathe, or bring you grace, Face me with an honest face; 10 You shall not deceive me Be it good or ill, be it what you will, It needs shall help me on my road, My rugged way to heaven, please God. 2 Watch with me, men, women, and children dear, You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear, Watch with me this last vigil of the year. Some hug their business, some their pleasurescheme; Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream; Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart. Watch with me blessd spirits, who delight All through the holy night to walk in white, Or take your ease after the longdrawn fight. I know not if they watch with me I know 10 They count this eve of resurrection slow, And cry, 'How long?' with urgent utterance strong. Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes; Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless. Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night; Tonight of pain, tomorrow of delight I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine. 3 Passing away, saith the World, passing away Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day Thy life never continueth in one stay. Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey That hath won neither laurel nor bay? I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May Thou, rootstricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay On my bosom for aye. Then I answered Yea. Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away 10 With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play; Hearken what the past doth witness and say Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay. At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay Watch thou and pray. Then I answered Yea. Passing away, saith my God, passing away Winter passeth after the long delay 20 New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May. Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day, My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say. Then I answered Yea. AMEN It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly! Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly, Now the wheat is garnered duly. It is finished. What is finished? Much is finished known or unknown Lives are finished; time diminished; Was the fallow field left unsown? Will these buds be always unblown? 10 It suffices. What suffices? All suffices reckoned rightly Spring shall bloom where now the ice is, Roses make the bramble sightly, And the quickening sun shine brightly, And the latter wind blow lightly, And my garden teem with spices. THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS, AND OTHER POEMS, 1866 THE PRINCE'S PROGRESS Till all sweet gums and juices flow, Till the blossom of blossoms blow, The long hours go and come and go, The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth, Waiting for one whose coming is slow Hark! the bride weepeth. 'How long shall I wait, come heat come rime?' 'Till the strong Prince comes, who must come in time' (Her women say), 'there's a mountain to climb, A river to ford. Sleep, dream and sleep; 10 Sleep' (they say) 'we've muffled the chime, Better dream than weep.' In his worldend palace the strong Prince sat, Taking his ease on cushion and mat, Close at hand lay his staff and his hat. 'When wilt thou start? the bride waits, O youth.' 'Now the moon's at full; I tarried for that, Now I start in truth. 'But tell me first, true voice of my doom, Of my veiled bride in her maiden bloom; 20 Keeps she watch through glare and through gloom, Watch for me asleep and awake?' 'Spellbound she watches in one white room, And is patient for thy sake. 'By her head lilies and rosebuds grow; The lilies droop, will the rosebuds blow? The silver slim lilies hang the head low; Their stream is scanty, their sunshine rare Let the sun blaze out, and let the stream flow, They will blossom and wax fair. 30 'Red and white poppies grow at her feet, The bloodred wait for sweet summer heat, Wrapped in budcoats hairy and neat; But the white buds swell, one day they will burst, Will open their deathcups drowsy and sweet Which will open the first?' Then a hundred sad voices lifted a wail, And a hundred glad voices piped on the gale 'Time is short, life is short,' they took up the tale 'Life is sweet, love is sweet, use today while you may; 40 Love is sweet, and tomorrow may fail; Love is sweet, use today.' While the song swept by, beseeching and meek, Up rose the Prince with a flush on his cheek, Up he rose to stir and to seek, Going forth in the joy of his strength; Strong of limb if of purpose weak, Starting at length. Forth he set in the breezy morn, Crossing green fields of nodding corn, 50 As goodly a Prince as ever was born; Carolling with the carolling lark; Sure his bride will be won and worn, Ere fall of the dark. So light his step, so merry his smile, A milkmaid loitered beside a stile, Set down her pail and rested awhile, A wavehaired milkmaid, rosy and white; The Prince, who had journeyed at least a mile, Grew athirst at the sight. 60 'Will you give me a morning draught?' 'You're kindly welcome,' she said, and laughed. He lifted the pail, new milk he quaffed; Then wiping his curly black beard like silk 'Whitest cow that ever was calved Surely gave you this milk.' Was it milk now, or was it cream? Was she a maid, or an evil dream? Here eyes began to glitter and gleam; He would have gone, but he stayed instead; 70 Green they gleamed as he looked in them 'Give me my fee,' she said. 'I will give you a jewel of gold.' 'Not so; gold is heavy and cold.' 'I will give you a velvet fold Of foreign work your beauty to deck.' 'Better I like my kerchief rolled Light and white round my neck.' 'Nay,' cried he, 'but fix your own fee.' She laughed, 'You may give the full moon to me; 80 Or else sit under this appletree Here for one idle day by my side; After that I'll let you go free, And the world is wide.


' Loth to stay, but to leave her slack, He half turned away, then he quite turned back For courtesy's sake he could not lack To redeem his own royal pledge; Ahead too the windy heaven lowered black With a firecloven edge. 90 So he stretched his length in the appletree shade, Lay and laughed and talked to the maid, Who twisted her hair in a cunning braid And writhed it shining in serpentcoils, And held him a day and night fast laid In her subtle toils. At the death of night and the birth of day, When the owl left off his sober play, And the bat hung himself out of the way, Woke the song of mavis and merle, 100 And heaven put off its hodden grey For mothero'pearl. Peeped up daisies here and there, Here, there, and everywhere; Rose a hopeful lark in the air, Spreading out towards the sun his breast; While the moon set solemn and fair Away in the West. 'Up, up, up,' called the watchman lark, In his clear rveille 'Hearken, oh hark! 110 Press to the high goal, fly to the mark. Up, O sluggard, new morn is born; If still asleep when the night falls dark, Thou must wait a second morn.' 'Up, up, up,' sad glad voices swelled 'So the tree falls and lies as it's felled. Be thy bands loosed, O sleeper, long held In sweet sleep whose end is not sweet. Be the slackness girt and the softness quelled And the slowness fleet.' 120 Off he set. The grass grew rare, A blight lurked in the darkening air, The very moss grew hueless and spare, The last daisy stood all astunt; Behind his back the soil lay bare, But barer in front. A land of chasm and rent, a land Of rugged blackness on either hand If water trickled its track was tanned With an edge of rust to the chink; 130 If one stamped on stone or on sand It returned a clink. A lifeless land, a loveless land, Without lair or nest on either hand Only scorpions jerked in the sand, Black as black iron, or dusty pale; From point to point sheer rock was manned By scorpions in mail. A land of neither life nor death, Where no man buildeth or fashioneth, 140 Where none draws living or dying breath; No man cometh or goeth there, No man doeth, seeketh, saith, In the stagnant air. Some old volcanic upset must Have rent the crust and blackened the crust; Wrenched and ribbed it beneath its dust Above earth's molten centre at seethe, Heaved and heaped it by huge upthrust Of fire beneath. 150 Untrodden before, untrodden since Tedious land for a social Prince; Halting, he scanned the outs and ins, Endless, labyrinthine, grim, Of the solitude that made him wince, Laying wait for him. By bulging rock and gaping cleft, Even of half mere daylight reft, Rueful he peered to right and left, Muttering in his altered mood 160 'The fate is hard that weaves my weft, Though my lot be good.' Dim the changes of day to night, Of night scarce dark to day not bright. Still his road wound towards the right, Still he went, and still he went, Till one night he espied a light, In his discontent. Out it flashed from a yawnmouthed cave, Like a redhot eye from a grave. 170 No man stood there of whom to crave Rest for wayfarer plodding by Though the tenant were churl or knave The Prince might try. In he passed and tarried not, Groping his way from spot to spot, Towards where the cavern flare glowed hot An old, old mortal, cramped and double, Was peering into a seethingpot, In a world of trouble. 180 The veriest atomy he looked, With grimy fingers clutching and crooked, Tight skin, a nose all bony and hooked, And a shaking, sharp, suspicious way; His blinking eyes had scarcely brooked The light of day. Stared the Prince, for the sight was new; Stared, but asked without more ado 'My a weary traveller lodge with you, Old father, here in your lair? 190 In your country the inns seem few, And scanty the fare.' The head turned not to hear him speak; The old voice whistled as through a leak (Out it came in a quavering squeak) 'Work for wage is a bargain fit If there's aught of mine that you seek You must work for it. 'Buried alive from light and air This year is the hundredth year, 200 I feed my fire with a sleepless care, Watching my potion wane or wax Elixir of Life is simmering there, And but one thing lacks. 'If you're fain to lodge here with me, Take that pair of bellows you see Too heavy for my old hands they be Take the bellows and puff and puff When the steam curls rosy and free The broth's boiled enough. 210 'Then take your choice of all I have; I will give you life if you crave. Already I'm mildewed for the grave, So first myself I must drink my fill But all the rest may be yours, to save Whomever you will.' 'Done,' quoth the Prince, and the bargain stood, First he piled on resinous wood, Next plied the bellows in hopeful mood; Thinking, 'My love and I will live. 220 If I tarry, why life is good, And she may forgive.' The pot began to bubble and boil; The old man cast in essence and oil, He stirred all up with a triple coil Of gold and silver and iron wire, Dredged in a pinch of virgin soil, And fed the fire. But still the steam curled watery white; Night turned to day and day to night; 230 One thing lacked, by his feeble sight Unseen, unguessed by his feeble mind Life might miss him, but Death the blight Was sure to find. So when the hundredth year was full The thread was cut and finished the school. Death snapped the old wornout tool, Snapped him short while he stood and stirred (Though stiff he stood as a stiffnecked mule) With never a word. 240 Thus at length the old crab was nipped. The dead hand slipped, the dead finger dipped In the broth as the dead man slipped, That same instant, a rosy red Flushed the steam, and quivered and clipped Round the dead old head. The last ingredient was supplied (Unless the dead man mistook or lied). Up started the Prince, he cast aside The bellows plied through the tedious trial, 250 Made sure that his host had died, And filled a phial. 'One night's rest,' though the Prince 'This done, Forth I start with the rising sun With the morrow I rise and run, Come what will of wind or of weather. This draught of Life when my Bride is won We'll drink together.' Thus the dead man stayed in his grave, Selfchosen, the dead man in his cave; 260 There he stayed, were he fool or knave, Or honest seeker who had not found While the Prince outside was prompt to crave Sleep on the ground. 'If she watches, go bid her sleep; Bit her sleep, for the road is steep He can sleep who holdeth her cheap, Sleep and wake and sleep again. Let him sow, one day he shall reap, Let him sow the grain. 270 'When there blows a sweet garden rose, Let it bloom and wither if no man knows But if one knows when the sweet thing blows, Knows, and lets it open and drop, If but a nettle his garden grows He hath earned the crop.' Through his sleep the summons rang, Into his ears it sobbed and it sang. Slow he woke with a drowsy pang, Shook himself without much debate, 280 Turned where he saw green branches hang, Started though late. For the black land was travelled o'er, He should see the grim land no more. A flowering country stretched before His face when the lovely day came back He hugged the phial of Life he bore, And resumed his track. By willow courses he took his path, Spied what a nest the kingfisher hath, 290 Marked the fields green to aftermath, Marked where the redbrown fieldmouse ran, Loitered a while for a deepstream bath, Yawned for a fellowman. Up on the hills not a soul in view, In a vale not many nor few; Leaves, still leaves, and nothing new. It's oh for a second maiden, at least, To bear the flagon, and taste it too, And flavour the feast. 300 Lagging he moved, and apt to swerve; Lazy of limb, but quick of nerve. At length the waterbed took a curve, The deep river swept its bankside bare; Waters streamed from the hillreserve Waters here, waters there. High above, and deep below, Bursting, bubbling, swelling the flow, Like hill torrents after the snow, Bubbling, gurgling, in whirling strife, 310 Swaying, sweeping, to and fro, He must swim for his life. Which way?which way?his eyes grew dim With the dizzying whirlwhich way to swim? The thunderous downshoot deafened him; Half he choked in the lashing spray Life is sweet, and the grave is grim Which way?which way? A flash of light, a shout from the strand 'This waythis way; here lies the land!' 320 His phial clutched in one drowning hand; He catchesmissescatches a rope; His feet slip on the slipping sand Is there life?is there hope? Just saved, without pulse or breath, Scarcely saved from the gulp of death; Laid where a willow shadoweth Laid where a swelling turf is smooth. (O Bride! but the Bridegroom lingereth For all thy sweet youth.) 330 Kind hands do and undo, Kind voices whisper and coo 'I will chafe his hands''And I''And you Raise his head, put his hair aside.' (If many laugh, one well may rue Sleep on, thou Bride.) So the Prince was tended with care One wrung foul ooze from his clustered hair; Two chafed his hands, and did not spare; But one held his drooping head breasthigh, 340 Till his eyes oped, and at unaware They met eye to eye. Oh, a moon face in a shadowy place, And a light touch and a winsome grace, And a thrilling tender voice that says 'Safe from waters that seek the sea Cold waters by rugged ways Safe with me.' While overhead bird whistles to bird, And round about plays a gamesome herd 350 'Safe with us'some take up the word 'Safe with us, dear lord and friend All the sweeter if long deferred Is rest in the end.' Had he stayed to weigh and to scan, He had been more or less than a man He did what a young man can, Spoke of toil and an arduous way Toil tomorrow, while golden ran The sands of today. 360 Slip past, slip fast, Uncounted hours from first to last, Many hours till the last is past, Many hours dwindling to one One hour whose die is cast, One last hour gone. Come, gonegone for ever Gone as an unreturning river Gone as to death the merriest liver Gone as the year at the dying fall 370 Tomorrow, today, yesterday, never Gone once for all. Came at length the startingday, With last words, and last words to say, With bodiless cries from far away Chiding wailing voices that rang Like a trumpetcall to the tug and fray; And thus they sang 'Is there life?the lamp burns low; Is there hope?the coming is slow 380 The promise promised so long ago, The long promise, has not been kept. Does she live?does she die?she slumbers so Who so oft has wept. 'Does she live?does she die?she languisheth As a lily drooping to death, As a droughtworn bird with failing breath, As a lovely vine without a stay, As a tree whereof the owner saith, "Hew it down today."' 390 Stung by that word the Prince was fain To start on his tedious road again. He crossed the stream where a ford was plain, He clomb the opposite bank though steep, And swore to himself to strain and attain Ere he tasted sleep. Huge before him a mountain frowned With foot of rock on the valley ground, And head with snows incessant crowned, And a cloud mantle about its strength, 400 And a path which the wild goat hath not found In its breadth and length. But he was strong to do and dare If a host had withstood him there, He had braved a host with little care In his lusty youth and his pride, Tough to grapple though weak to snare. He comes, O Bride. Up he went where the goat scarce clings, Up where the eagle folds her wings, 410 Past the green line of living things, Where the sun cannot warm the cold, Up he went as a flame enrings Where there seems no hold. Up a fissure barren and black, Till the eagles tired upon his track, And the clouds were left behind his back, Up till the utmost peak was past, Then he gasped for breath and his strength fell slack; He paused at last. 420 Before his face a valley spread Where fatness laughed, wine, oil, and bread, Where all fruittrees their sweetness shed, Where all birds made love to their kind, Where jewels twinkled, and gold lay red And not hard to find. Midway down the mountain side (On its green slope the path was wide) Stood a house for a royal bride, Built all of changing opal stone, 430 The royal palace, till now descried In his dreams alone. Less bold than in days of yore, Doubting now though never before, Doubting he goes and lags the more Is the time late? does the day grow dim? Rose, will she open the crimson core Of her heart to him? Take heart of grace! the potion of Life May go far to woo him a wife 440 If she frown, yet a lover's strife Lightly raised can be laid again A hasty word is never the knife To cut love in twain. Far away stretched the royal land, Fed by dew, by a spicewind fanned Light labour more, and his foot would stand On the threshold, all labour done; Easy pleasure laid at his hand, And the dear Bride won. 450 His slackening steps pause at the gate Does she wake or sleep?the time is late Does she sleep now, or watch and wait? She has watched, she has waited long, Watching athwart the golden grate With a patient song. Fling the golden portals wide, The Bridegroom comes to his promised Bride; Draw the goldstiff curtains aside, Let them look on each other's face, 460 She in her meekness, he in his pride Day wears apace. Day is over, the day that wore. What is this that comes through the door, The face covered, the feet before? This that coming takes his breath; The Bride not seen, to be seen no more Save of Bridegroom Death? Veiled figures carrying her Sweep by yet make no stir; 470 There is a smell of spice and myrrh, A bridechant burdened with one name; The bridesong rises steadier Than the torches' flame 'Too late for love, too late for joy, Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate The enchanted dove upon her branch Died without a mate; 480 The enchanted princess in her tower Slept, died, behind the grate; Her heart was starving all this while You made it wait. 'Ten years ago, five years ago, One year ago, Even then you had arrived in time, Though somewhat slow; Then you had known her living face Which now you cannot know 490 The frozen fountain would have leaped, The buds gone on to blow, The warm south wind would have awaked To melt the snow. 'Is she fair now as she lies? Once she was fair; Meet queen for any kingly king, With golddust on her hair. Now these are poppies in her locks, White poppies she must wear; 500 Must wear a veil to shroud her face And the want graven there Or is the hunger fed at length, Cast off the care? 'We never saw her with a smile Or with a frown; Her bed seemed never soft to her, Though tossed of down; She little heeded what she wore, Kirtle, or wreath, or gown; 510 We think her white brows often ached Beneath her crown, Till silvery hairs showed in her locks That used to be so brown. 'We never heard her speak in haste; Her tones were sweet, And modulated just so much As it was meet Her heart sat silent through the noise And concourse of the street. 520 There was no hurry in her hands, No hurry in her feet; There was no bliss drew nigh to her, That she might run to greet. 'You should have wept her yesterday, Wasting upon her bed But wherefore should you weep today That she is dead? Lo, we who love weep not today, But crown her royal head. 530 Let be these poppies that we strew, Your roses are too red Let be these poppies, not for you Cut down and spread.' MAIDENSONG Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill. One was tall Meggan, And one was dainty May, But one was fair Margaret, More fair than I can say, Long ago and long ago. When Meggan plucked the thorny rose, 10 And when May pulled the brier, Half the birds would swoop to see, Half the beasts draw nigher; Half the fishes of the streams Would dart up to admire But when Margaret plucked a flagflower, Or poppy hot aflame, All the beasts and all the birds And all the fishes came To her hand more soft than snow. 20 Strawberry leaves and Maydew In brisk morning air, Strawberry leaves and Maydew Make maidens fair. 'I go for strawberry leaves,' Meggan said one day 'Fair Margaret can bide at home, But you come with me, May; Up the hill and down the hill, Along the winding way 30 You and I are used to go.' So these two fair sisters Went with innocent will Up the hill and down again, And round the homestead hill While the fairest sat at home, Margaret like a queen, Like a blushrose, like the moon In her heavenly sheen, Fragrantbreathed as milky cow 40 Or field of blossoming bean, Graceful as an ivy bough Born to cling and lean; Thus she sat to sing and sew. When she raised her lustrous eyes A beast peeped at the door; When she downward cast her eyes A fish gasped on the floor; When she turned away her eyes A bird perched on the sill, 50 Warbling out its heart of love, Warbling warbling still, With pathetic pleadings low. Lightfoot May with Meggan Sought the choicest spot, Clothed with thymealternate grass Then, while day waxed hot, Sat at ease to play and rest, A gracious rest and play; The loveliest maidens near or far, 60 When Margaret was away, Who sat at home to sing and sew. Sunglow flushed their comely cheeks, Windplay tossed their hair, Creeping things among the grass Stroked them here and there; Meggan piped a merry note, A fitful wayward lay, While shrill as bird on topmost twig Piped merry May; 70 Honeysmooth the double flow. Sped a herdsman from the vale, Mounting like a flame, All on fire to hear and see, With floating locks he came. Looked neither north nor south, Neither east nor west, But sat him down at Meggan's feet As lovebird on his nest, And wooed her with a silent awe, 80 With trouble not expressed; She sang the tears into his eyes, The heart out of his breast So he loved her, listening so. She sang the heart out of his breast, The words out of his tongue; Hand and foot and pulse he paused Till her song was sung. Then he spoke up from his place Simple words and true 90 'Scanty goods have I to give, Scanty skill to woo; But I have a will to work, And a heart for you Bid me stay or bid me go.' Then Meggan mused within herself 'Better be first with him, Than dwell where fairer Margaret sits, Who shines my brightness dim, For ever second where she sits, 100 However fair I be I will be lady of his love, And he shall worship me; I will be lady of his herds And stoop to his degree, At home where kids and fatlings grow.' Sped a shepherd from the height Headlong down to look, (White lambs followed, lured by love Of their shepherd's crook) 110 He turned neither east nor west, Neither north nor south, But knelt right down to May, for love Of her sweetsinging mouth; Forgot his flocks, his panting flocks In parching hillside drouth; Forgot himself for weal or woe. Trilled her song and swelled her song With maiden coy caprice In a labyrinth of throbs, 120 Pauses, cadences; Clearnoted as a dropping brook, Softnoted like the bees, Wildnoted as the shivering wind Forlorn through forest trees Lovenoted like the woodpigeon Who hides herself for love, Yet cannot keep her secret safe, But coos and coos thereof Thus the notes rang loud or low. 130 He hung breathless on her breath; Speechless, who listened well; Could not speak or think or wish Till silence broke the spell. Then he spoke, and spread his hands, Pointing here and there 'See my sheep and see the lambs, Twin lambs which they bare. All myself I offer you, All my flocks and care, 140 Your sweet song hath moved me so.' In her fluttered heart young May Mused a dubious while 'If he loves me as he says' Her lips curved with a smile 'Where Margaret shines like the sun I shine but like a moon; If sister Meggan makes her choice I can make mine as soon; At cockcrow we were sistermaids, 150 We may be brides at noon.' Said Meggan, 'Yes;' May said not 'No.' Fair Margaret stayed alone at home, Awhile she sang her song, Awhile sat silent, then she thought 'My sisters loiter long.' That sultry noon had waned away, Shadows had waxen great 'Surely,' she thought within herself, 'My sisters loiter late.' 160 She rose, and peered out at the door, With patient heart to wait, And heard a distant nightingale Complaining of its mate; Then down the garden slope she walked, Down to the garden gate, Leaned on the rail and waited so. The slope was lightened by her eyes Like summer lightning fair, Like rising of the haloed moon 170 Lightened her glimmering hair, While her face lightened like the sun Whose dawn is rosy white. Thus crowned with maiden majesty She peered into the night, Looked up the hill and down the hill, To left hand and to right, Flashing like fireflies to and fro. Waiting thus in weariness She marked the nightingale 180 Telling, if any one would heed, Its old complaining tale. Then lifted she her voice and sang, Answering the bird Then lifted she her voice and sang, Such notes were never heard From any bird when Spring's in blow. The king of all that country Coursing far, coursing near, Curbed his amberbitted steed, 190 Coursed amain to hear; All his princes in his train, Squire, and knight, and peer, With his crown upon his head, His sceptre in his hand, Down he fell at Margaret's knees Lord king of all that land, To her highness bending low. Every beast and bird and fish Came mustering to the sound, 200 Every man and every maid From miles of country round Meggan on her herdsman's arm, With her shepherd May, Flocks and herds trooped at their heels Along the hillside way; No foot too feeble for the ascent, Not any head too grey; Some were swift and none were slow. So Margaret sang her sisters home 210 In their marriage mirth; Sang free birds out of the sky, Beasts along the earth, Sang up fishes of the deep All breathing things that move Sang from far and sang from near To her lovely love; Sang together friend and foe; Sang a goldenbearded king Straightway to her feet, 220 Sang him silent where he knelt In eager anguish sweet. But when the clear voice died away, When longest echoes died, He stood up like a royal man And claimed her for his bride. So three maids were wooed and won In a brief Maytide, Long ago and long ago. JESSIE CAMERON 'Jessie, Jessie Cameron, Hear me but this once,' quoth he. 'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, But I'm no mate for you,' quoth she. Day was verging toward the night There beside the moaning sea, Dimness overtook the light There where the breakers be. 'O Jessie, Jessie Cameron, I have loved you long and true.' 10 'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, But I'm no mate for you.' She was a careless, fearless girl, And made her answer plain, Outspoken she to earl or churl, Kindhearted in the main, But somewhat heedless with her tongue, And apt at causing pain; A mirthful maiden she and young, Most fair for bliss or bane. 20 'Oh, long ago I told you so, I tell you so today Go you your way, and let me go Just my own free way.' The sea swept in with moan and foam, Quickening the stretch of sand; They stood almost in sight of home; He strove to take her hand. 'Oh, can't you take your answer then, And won't you understand? 30 For me you're not the man of men, I've other plans are planned. You're good for Madge, or good for Cis, Or good for Kate, may be But what's to me the good of this While you're not good for me?' They stood together on the beach, They two alone, And louder waxed his urgent speech, His patience almost gone 40 'Oh, say but one kind word to me, Jessie, Jessie Cameron.' 'I'd be too proud to beg,' quoth she, And pride was in her tone. And pride was in her lifted head, And in her angry eye And in her foot, which might have fled, But would not fly. Some say that he had gipsy blood; That in his heart was guile 50 Yet he had gone through fire and flood Only to win her smile. Some say his grandam was a witch, A black witch from beyond the Nile, Who kept an image in a niche And talked with it the while. And by her hut far down the lane Some say they would not pass at night, Lest they should hear an unked strain Or see an unked sight. 60 Alas, for Jessie Cameron! The sea crept moaning, moaning nigher She should have hastened to begone, The sea swept higher, breaking by her She should have hastened to her home While yet the west was flushed with fire, But now her feet are in the foam, The seafoam, sweeping higher. O mother, linger at your door, And light your lamp to make it plain, 70 But Jessie she comes home no more, No more again. They stood together on the strand, They only, each by each; Home, her home, was close at hand, Utterly out of reach. Her mother in the chimney nook Heard a startled seagull screech, But never turned her head to look Towards the darkening beach 80 Neighbours here and neighbours there Heard one scream, as if a bird Shrilly screaming cleft the air That was all they heard. Jessie she comes home no more, Comes home never; Her lover's step sounds at his door No more forever. And boats may search upon the sea And search along the river, 90 But none know where the bodies be Seawinds that shiver, Seabirds that breast the blast, Seawaves swelling, Keep the secret first and last Of their dwelling. Whether the tide so hemmed them round With its pitiless flow, That when they would have gone they found No way to go; 100 Whether she scorned him to the last With words flung to and fro, Or clung to him when hope was past, None will ever know Whether he helped or hindered her, Threw up his life or lost it well, The troubled sea, for all its stir Finds no voice to tell. Only watchers by the dying Have thought they heard one pray 110 Wordless, urgent; and replying One seem to say him nay And watchers by the dead have heard A windy swell from miles away, With sobs and screams, but not a word Distinct for them to say And watchers out at sea have caught Glimpse of a pale gleam here or there, Come and gone as quick as thought, Which might be hand or hair. 120 SPRING QUIET Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing; Where in the whitethorn Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the hollybush. Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs 10 Arching high over A cool green house Full of sweet scents, And whispering air Which sayeth softly 'We spread no snare; 'Here dwell in safety, Here dwell alone, With a clear stream And a mossy stone. 20 'Here the sun shineth Most shadily; Here is heard an echo Of the far sea, Though far off it be.' THE POOR GHOST 'Oh whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, With your golden hair all fallen below your knee, And your face as white as snowdrops on the lea, And your voice as hollow as the hollow sea?' 'From the other world I come back to you, My locks are uncurled with dripping drenching dew. You know the old, whilst I know the new But tomorrow you shall know this too.' 'Oh not tomorrow into the dark, I pray; Oh not tomorrow, too soon to go away 10 Here I feel warm and wellcontent and gay Give me another year, another day.' 'Am I so changed in a day and a night That mine own only love shrinks from me with fright, Is fain to turn away to left or right And cover up his eyes from the sight?' 'Indeed I loved you, my chosen friend, I loved you for life, but life has an end; Through sickness I was ready to tend But death mars all, which we cannot mend. 20 'Indeed I loved you; I love you yet, If you will stay where your bed is set, Where I have planted a violet, Which the wind waves, which the dew makes wet.' 'Life is gone, then love too is gone, It was a reed that I leant upon Never doubt I will leave you alone And not wake you rattling bone with bone. 'I go home alone to my bed, Dug deep at the foot and deep at the head, 30 Roofed in with a load of lead, Warm enough for the forgotten dead. 'But why did your tears soak through the clay, And why did your sobs wake me where I lay? I was away, far enough away Let me sleep now till the Judgment Day.' A PORTRAIT I She gave up beauty in her tender youth, Gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; She covered up her eyes lest they should gaze On vanity, and chose the bitter truth. Harsh towards herself, towards others full of ruth, Servant of servants, little known to praise, Long prayers and fasts trenched on her nights and days She schooled herself to sights and sounds uncouth That with the poor and stricken she might make A home, until the least of all sufficed 10 Her wants; her own self learned she to forsake, Counting all earthly gain but hurt and loss. So with calm will she chose and bore the cross And hated all for love of Jesus Christ. II They knelt in silent anguish by her bed, And could not weep; but calmly there she lay. All pain had left her; and the sun's last ray Shone through upon her, warming into red The shady curtains. In her heart she said 'Heaven opens; I leave these and go away; 20 The Bridegroom calls,shall the Bride seek to stay?' Then low upon her breast she bowed her head. O lily flower, O gem of priceless worth, O dove with patient voice and patient eyes, O fruitful vine amid a land of dearth, O maid replete with loving purities, Thou bowedst down thy head with friends on earth To raise it with the saints in Paradise. DREAMLOVE Young Love lies sleeping In Maytime of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light White lambs come grazing, White doves come building there And round about him The Maybushes are white. Soft moss the pillow For oh, a softer cheek; 10 Broad leaves cast shadow Upon the heavy eyes There winds and waters Grow lulled and scarcely speak; There twilight lingers The longest in the skies. Young Love lies dreaming; But who shall tell the dream? A perfect sunlight On rustling forest tips; 20 Or perfect moonlight Upon a rippling stream; Or perfect silence, Or song of cherished lips. Burn odours round him To fill the drowsy air; Weave silent dances Around him to and fro; For oh, in waking The sights are not so fair, 30 And song and silence Are not like these below. Young Love lies dreaming Till summer days are gone, Dreaming and drowsing Away to perfect sleep He sees the beauty Sun hath not looked upon, And tastes the fountain Unutterably deep. 40 Him perfect music Doth hush unto his rest, And through the pauses The perfect silence calms Oh, poor the voices Of earth from east to west, And poor earth's stillness Between her stately palms. Young Love lies drowsing Away to poppied death; 50 Cool shadows deepen Across the sleeping face So fails the summer With warm, delicious breath; And what hath autumn To give us in its place? Draw close the curtains Of branched evergreen; Change cannot touch them With fading fingers sere 60 Here the first violets Perhaps will bud unseen, And a dove, may be, Return to nestle here. TWICE I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak (O my love, O my love) Yet a woman's words are weak; You should speak, not I. You took my heart in your hand With a friendly smile, 10 With a critical eye you scanned, Then set it down, And said It is still unripe, Better wait awhile; Wait while the skylarks pipe, Till the corn grows brown. As you set it down it broke Broke, but I did not wince; I smiled at the speech you spoke, At your judgement that I heard 20 But I have not often smiled Since then, nor questioned since, Nor cared for cornflowers wild, Nor sung with the singing bird. I take my heart in my hand, O my God, O my God, My broken heart in my hand Thou hast seen, judge Thou. My hope was written on sand, O my God, O my God 30 Now let thy judgement stand Yea, judge me now. This contemned of a man, This marred one heedless day, This heart take Thou to scan Both within and without Refine with fire its gold, Purge thou its dross away Yea, hold it in Thy hold, Whence none can pluck it out. 40 I take my heart in my hand I shall not die, but live Before Thy face I stand; I, for Thou callest such All that I have I bring, All that I am I give, Smile Thou and I shall sing, But shall not question much.


SONGS IN A CORNFIELD A song in a cornfield Where corn begins to fall, Where reapers are reaping, Reaping one, reaping all. Sing pretty Lettice, Sing Rachel, sing May; Only Marian cannot sing While her sweetheart's away. Where is he gone to And why does he stay? 10 He came across the green sea But for a day, Across the deep green sea To help with the hay. His hair was curly yellow And his eyes were grey, He laughed a merry laugh And said a sweet say. Where is he gone to That he comes not home? 20 Today or tomorrow He surely will come. Let him haste to joy Lest he lag for sorrow, For one weeps today Who'll not weep tomorrow Today she must weep For gnawing sorrow, Tonight she may sleep And not wake tomorrow. 30 May sang with Rachel In the waxing warm weather, Lettice sang with them, They sang all together 'Take the wheat in your arm Whilst day is broad above, Take the wheat to your bosom, But not a false love. Out in the fields Summer heat gloweth, 40 Out in the fields Summer wind bloweth, Out in the fields Summer friend showeth, Out in the fields Summer wheat groweth; But in the winter When summer heat is dead And summer wind has veered And summer friend has fled, 50 Only summer wheat remaineth, White cakes and bread. Take the wheat, clasp the wheat That's food for maid and dove; Take the wheat to your bosom, But not a false false love.' A silence of full noontide heat Grew on them at their toil The farmer's dog woke up from sleep, The green snake hid her coil. 60 Where grass stood thickest, bird and beast Sought shadows as they could, The reaping men and women paused And sat down where they stood; They ate and drank and were refreshed, For rest from toil is good. While the reapers took their ease, Their sickles lying by, Rachel sang a second strain, And singing seemed to sigh 70 'There goes the swallow Could we but follow! Hasty swallow stay, Point us out the way; Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow. 'There went the swallow Too late to follow Lost our note of way, Lost our chance today; Good bye swallow, sunny swallow, wise swallow. 80 'After the swallow All sweet things follow All things go their way, Only we must stay, Must not follow; good bye swallow, good swallow.' Then listless Marian raised her head Among the nodding sheaves; Her voice was sweeter than that voice; She sang like one who grieves Her voice was sweeter than its wont 90 Among the nodding sheaves; All wondered while they heard her sing Like one who hopes and grieves 'Deeper than the hail can smite, Deeper than the frost can bite, Deep asleep through day and night, Our delight. 'Now thy sleep no pang can break, No tomorrow bid thee wake, Not our sobs who sit and ache 100 For thy sake. 'Is it dark or light below? Oh, but is it cold like snow? Dost thou feel the green things grow Fast or slow? 'Is it warm or cold beneath, Oh, but is it cold like death? Cold like death, without a breath, Cold like death?' If he comes today 110 He will find her weeping; If he comes tomorrow He will find her sleeping; If he comes the next day He'll not find her at all, He may tear his curling hair, Beat his breast and call. A YEAR'S WINDFALLS On the wind of January Down flits the snow, Travelling from the frozen North As cold as it can blow. Poor robin redbreast, Look where he comes; Let him in to feel your fire, And toss him of your crumbs. On the wind in February Snowflakes float still, 10 Half inclined to turn to rain, Nipping, dripping, chill. Then the thaws swell the streams, And swollen rivers swell the sea If the winter ever ends How pleasant it will be! In the wind of windy March The catkins drop down, Curly, caterpillarlike, Curious green and brown. 20 With concourse of nestbuilding birds And leafbuds by the way, We begin to think of flowers And life and nuts some day. With the gusts of April Rich fruittree blossoms fall, On the hedgedin orchardgreen, From the southern wall. Appletrees and peartrees Shed petals white or pink, 30 Plumtrees and peachtrees; While sharp showers sink and sink. Little brings the May breeze Beside pure scent of flowers, While all things wax and nothing wanes In lengthening daylight hours. Across the hyacinth beds The wind lags warm and sweet, Across the hawthorn tops, Across the blades of wheat. 40 In the wind of sunny June Thrives the red rose crop, Every day fresh blossoms blow While the first leaves drop; White rose and yellow rose And mossrose choice to find, And the cottage cabbagerose Not one whit behind. On the blast of scorched July Drives the pelting hail, 50 From thunderous lightningclouds, that blot Blue heaven grown luridpale. Weedy waves are tossed ashore, Seathings strange to sight Gasp upon the barren shore And fade away in light. In the parching August wind Cornfields bow the head, Sheltered in round valley depths, On low hills outspread. 60 Early leaves drop loitering down Weightless on the breeze, First fruits of the year's decay From the withering trees. In brisk wind of September The heavyheaded fruits Shake upon their bending boughs And drop from the shoots; Some glow golden in the sun, Some show green and streaked, 70 Some set forth a purple bloom, Some blush rosycheeked. In strong blast of October At the equinox, Stirred up in his hollow bed Broad ocean rocks; Plunge the ships on his bosom, Leaps and plunges the foam, It's oh! for mothers' sons at sea, That they were safe at home. 80 In slack wind of November The fog forms and shifts; All the world comes out again When the fog lifts. Loosened from their sapless twigs Leaves drop with every gust; Drifting, rustling, out of sight In the damp or dust. Last of all, December, The year's sands nearly run, 90 Speeds on the shortest day, Curtails the sun; With its bleak raw wind Lays the last leaves low, Brings back the nightly frosts, Brings back the snow. THE QUEEN OF HEARTS How comes it, Flora, that, whenever we Play cards together, you invariably, However the pack parts, Still hold the Queen of Hearts? I've scanned you with a scrutinizing gaze, Resolved to fathom these your secret ways But, sift them as I will, Your ways are secret still. I cut and shuffle; shuffle, cut, again; But all my cutting, shuffling, proves in vain 10 Vain hope, vain forethought too; The Queen still falls to you. I dropped her once, prepense; but, ere the deal Was dealt, your instinct seemed her loss to feel 'There should be one card more,' You said, and searched the floor. I cheated once; I made a private notch In HeartQueen's back, and kept a lynxeyed watch; Yet such another back Deceived me in the pack 20 The Queen of Clubs assumed by arts unknown An imitative dint that seemed my own; This notch, not of my doing, Misled me to my ruin. It baffles me to puzzle out the clue, Which must be skill, or craft, or luck in you Unless, indeed, it be Natural affinity. ONE DAY I will tell you when they met In the limpid days of Spring; Elder boughs were budding yet, Oaken boughs looked wintry still, But primrose and veined violet In the mossful turf were set, While meeting birds made haste to sing And build with right good will. I will tell you when they parted When plenteous Autumn sheaves were brown, 10 Then they parted heavyhearted; The full rejoicing sun looked down As grand as in the days before; Only they had lost a crown; Only to them those days of yore Could come back nevermore. When shall they meet? I cannot tell, Indeed, when they shall meet again, Except some day in Paradise For this they wait, one waits in pain. 20 Beyond the sea of death love lies For ever, yesterday, today; Angels shall ask them, 'Is it well?' And they shall answer, 'Yea.' A BIRD'SEYE VIEW 'Croak, croak, croak,' Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him, Lest the Bridegroom hear him; Scout him and rout him With his ominous eye about him. Yet, 'Croak, croak, croak,' Still tolled from the oak; 10 From that fatal black bird, Whether heard or unheard 'O ship upon the high seas, Freighted with lives and spices, Sink, O ship,' croaked the Raven 'Let the Bride mount to heaven.' In a far foreign land, Upon the waveedged sand, Some friends gaze wistfully Across the glittering sea. 20 'If we could clasp our sister,' Three say, 'now we have missed her!' 'If we could kiss our daughter!' Two sigh across the water. Oh, the ship sails fast With silken flags at the mast, And the homewind blows soft; But a Raven sits aloft, Chuckling and choking, Croaking, croaking, croaking 30 Let the beaconfire blaze higher; Bridegroom, watch; the Bride draws nigher. On a sloped sandy beach, Which the springtide billows reach, Stand a watchful throng Who have hoped and waited long 'Fie on this ship, that tarries With the priceless freight it carries. The time seems long and longer O languid wind, wax stronger;' 40 Whilst the Raven perched at ease Still croaks and does not cease, One monotonous note Tolled from his iron throat 'No father, no mother, But I have a sable brother He sees where ocean flows to, And he knows what he knows, too.' A day and a night They kept watch worn and white; 50 A night and a day For the swift ship on its way For the Bride and her maidens Clear chimes the bridal cadence For the tall ship that never Hove in sight for ever. On either shore, some Stand in grief loud or dumb As the dreadful dread Grows certain though unsaid. 60 For laughter there is weeping, And waking instead of sleeping, And a desperate sorrow Morrow after morrow. Oh, who knows the truth, How she perished in her youth, And like a queen went down Pale in her royal crown How she went up to glory From the seafoam chill and hoary, 70 From the seadepth black and riven To the calm that is in Heaven? They went down, all the crew, The silks and spices too, The great ones and the small, One and all, one and all. Was it through stress of weather, Quicksands, rocks, or all together? Only the Raven knows this, And he will not disclose this. 80 After a day and year The bridal bells chime clear; After a year and a day The Bridegroom is brave and gay Love is sound, faith is rotten; The old Bride is forgotten Two ominous Ravens only Remember, black and lonely. LIGHT LOVE 'Oh, sad thy lot before I came, But sadder when I go; My presence but a flash of flame, A transitory glow Between two barren wastes like snow. What wilt thou do when I am gone, Where wilt thou rest, my dear? For cold thy bed to rest upon, And cold the falling year Whose withered leaves are lost and sere.' 10 She hushed the baby at her breast, She rocked it on her knee 'And I will rest my lonely rest, Warmed with the thought of thee, Rest lulled to rest by memory.' She hushed the baby with her kiss, She hushed it with her breast 'Is death so sadder much than this Sure death that builds a nest For those who elsewhere cannot rest?' 20 'Oh, sad thy note, my mateless dove, With tender nestling cold; But hast thou ne'er another love Left from the days of old, To build thy nest of silk and gold, To warm thy paleness to a blush When I am far away To warm thy coldness to a flush, And turn thee back to May, And turn thy twilight back to day?' 30 She did not answer him again, But leaned her face aside, Weary with the pang of shame and pain, And sore with wounded pride He knew his very soul had lied. She strained his baby in her arms, His baby to her heart 'Even let it go, the love that harms We twain will never part; Mine own, his own, how dear thou art.' 40 'Now never teaze me, tendereyed, Sighvoiced,' he said in scorn 'For nigh at hand there blooms a bride, My bride before the morn; Ripeblooming she, as thou forlorn. Ripeblooming she, my rose, my peach; She woos me day and night I watch her tremble in my reach; She reddens, my delight, She ripens, reddens in my sight.' 50 'And is she like a sunlit rose? Am I like withered leaves? Haste where thy spicd garden blows But in bare Autumn eves Wilt thou have store of harvest sheaves? Thou leavest love, true love behind, To seek a love as true; Go, seek in haste but wilt thou find? Change new again for new; Pluck up, enjoyyea, trample too. 60 'Alas for her, poor faded rose, Alas for her her, like me, Cast down and trampled in the snows.' 'Like thee? nay, not like thee She leans, but from a guarded tree. Farewell, and dream as long ago, Before we ever met Farewell; my swiftpaced horse seems slow.' She raised her eyes, not wet But hard, to Heaven 'Does God forget?' 70 A DREAM Sonnet Once in a dream (for once I dreamed of you) We stood together in an open field; Above our heads two swiftwinged pigeons wheeled, Sporting at ease and courting full in view. When loftier still a broadening darkness flew, Downswooping, and a ravenous hawk revealed; Too weak to fight, too fond to fly, they yield; So farewell life and love and pleasures new. Then as their plumes fell fluttering to the ground, Their snowwhite plumage flecked with crimson drops, I wept, and thought I turned towards you to weep But you were gone; while rustling hedgerow tops Bent in a wind which bore to me a sound Of faroff piteous bleat of lambs and sheep. A RING POSY Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls. I'm not pretty, not a bit Thin and sallowpale; When I trudge along the street I don't need a veil Yet I have one fancy hit. 10 Jess and Jill can trill and sing With a flutelike voice, Dance as light as bird on wing, Laugh for careless joys Yet it's I who wear the ring. Jess and Jill will mate some day, Surely, surely Ripen on to June through May, While the sun shines make their hay, Slacken steps demurely 20 Yet even there I lead the way. BEAUTY IS VAIN While roses are so red, While lilies are so white, Shall a woman exalt her face Because it gives delight? She's not so sweet as a rose, A lily's straighter than she, And if she were as red or white She'd be but one of three. Whether she flush in love's summer Or in its winter grow pale, 10 Whether she flaunt her beauty Or hide it away in a veil, Be she red or white, And stand she erect or bowed, Time will win the race he runs with her And hide her away in a shroud. LADY MAGGIE You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear, For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see; And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year, 'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee. Oh, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil, That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost? You're as white as I turned once down by the mill, When one told me you and ship and crew were lost Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me), 10 Philip with the merry life in lip and curl, Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea! I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint; I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad, Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint For you, my cousin, brother, all I had. They said I looked so palesome say so fair My lord stopped in passing to soothe me back to life I know I missed a ringlet from my hair Next morning; and now I am his wife. 20 Look at my gown, Philip, and look at my ring, I'm all crimson and gold from top to toe All day long I sit in the sun and sing, Where in the sun red roses blush and blow. And I'm the rose of roses says my lord; And to him I'm more than the sun in the sky, While I hold him fast with the golden cord Of a curl, with the eyelash of an eye. His mother said 'fie,' and his sisters cried 'shame,' His highborn ladies cried 'shame' from their place 30 They said 'fie' when they only heard my name, But fell silent when they saw my face. Am I so fair, Philip? Philip, did you think I was so fair when we played boy and girl, Where blue forgetmenots bloomed on the brink Of our stream which the millwheel sent a whirl? If I was fair then sure I'm fairer now, Sitting where a score of servants stand, With a coronet on high days for my brow And almost a sceptre for my hand. 40 You're but a sailor, Philip, weatherbeaten brown, A stranger on land and at home on the sea, Coasting as best you may from town to town Coasting along do you often think of me? I'm a great lady in a sheltered bower, With hands grown white through having nought to do Yet sometimes I think of you hour after hour Till I nigh wish myself a child with you. WHAT WOULD I GIVE? What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through, Instead of this heart of stone icecold whatever I do; Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all. What would I give for words, if only words would come; But now in its misery my spirit has fallen dumb Oh, merry friends, go your own way, I have never a word to say. What would I give for tears, not smiles but scalding tears, To wash the black mark clean, and to thaw the frost of years, To wash the stain ingrain and to make me clean again. THE BOURNE Underneath the growing grass, Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass. Youth and health will be but vain, Beauty reckoned of no worth There a very little girth Can hold round what once the earth Seemed too narrow to contain. SUMMER Winter is coldhearted Spring is yea and nay, Autumn is a weathercock Blown every way Summer days for me When every leaf is on its tree; When Robin's not a beggar, And Jenny Wren's a bride, And larks hang singing, singing, singing, Over the wheatfields wide, 10 And anchored lilies ride, And the pendulum spider Swings from side to side, And blueblack beetles transact business, And gnats fly in a host, And furry caterpillars hasten That no time be lost, And moths grow fat and thrive, And ladybirds arrive. Before green apples blush, 20 Before green nuts embrown, Why, one day in the country Is worth a month in town; Is worth a day and a year Of the dusty, musty, laglast fashion That days drone elsewhere. AUTUMN I dwell aloneI dwell alone, alone, Whilst full my river flows down to the sea, Gilded with flashing boats That bring no friend to me O lovesongs, gurgling from a hundred throats, O lovepangs, let me be. Fair fall the freighted boats which gold and stone And spices bear to sea Slim, gleaming maidens swell their mellow notes, Lovepromising, entreating 10 Ah! sweet, but fleeting Beneath the shivering, snowwhite sails. Hush! the wind flags and fails Hush! they will lie becalmed in sight of strand Sight of my strand, where I do dwell alone; Their songs wake singing echoes in my land They cannot hear me moan. One latest, solitary swallow flies Across the sea, rough autumntempest tossed, Poor bird, shall it be lost? 20 Dropped down into this uncongenial sea, With no kind eyes To watch it while it dies, Unguessed, uncared for, free Set free at last, The short pang past, In sleep, in death, in dreamless sleep locked fast. Mine avenue is all a growth of oaks, Some rent by thunder strokes, Some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze; 30 Fair fall my fertile trees, That rear their goodly heads, and live at ease. A spider's web blocks all mine avenue; He catches down and foolish painted flies That spider wary and wise. Each morn it hangs a rainbow strung with dew Betwixt boughs green with sap, So fair, few creatures guess it is a trap I will not mar the web, Though sad I am to see the small lives ebb. 40 It shakesmy trees shakefor a wind is roused In cavern where it housed Each white and quivering sail, Of boats among the water leaves Hollows and strains in the fullthroated gale Each maiden sings again Each languid maiden, whom the calm Had lulled to sleep with rest and spice and balm Miles down my river to the sea They float and wane, 50 Long miles away from me. Perhaps they say 'She grieves, Uplifted, like a beacon, on her tower.' Perhaps they say 'One hour More, and we dance among the golden sheaves.' Perhaps they say 'One hour More, and we stand, Face to face, hand in hand; Make haste, O slack gale, to the lookedfor land!' My trees are not in flower, 60 I have no bower, And gusty creaks my tower, And lonesome, very lonesome, is my strand. THE GHOST'S PETITION 'There's a footstep coming look out and see,' 'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; No one cometh across the lea.' 'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.' 'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; No one cometh across the brook.' 'But he promised that he would come Tonight, tomorrow, in joy or sorrow, He must keep his word, and must come home. 'For he promised that he would come 10 His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home. 'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. 'I shall sit here awhile, and watch; Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.' After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, 20 Who had watched and wept the weary night. After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping Watching, weeping for one away. There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband the door shut fast. 30 'O Robin, but you are cold Chilled with the nightdew so lilywhite you Look like a stray lamb from our fold. 'O Robin, but you are late Come and sit near mesit here and cheer me.' (Blue the flame burnt in the grate.) 'Lay not down your head on my breast I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best. 'Feel not after my clasping hand 40 I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand. 'We are trees which have shed their leaves Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. 'I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone. 'I could rest if you would not cry; But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping 50 Watching, weeping so bitterly.' 'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard. Oh night of sorrow!oh black tomorrow! Is it thus that you keep your word? 'O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least windwhy, now the east wind Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. 'O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good, 60 'What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. What do you do there?what have you found?' 'What I do there I must not tell But I have plenty kind wife, content ye It is well with usit is well. 'Tender hand hath made our nest; Our fear is ended, our hope is blended With present pleasure, and we have rest.' 'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come, 70 If your present days are so pleasant; For my days are so wearisome. 'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake Why should I tease you, who cannot please you Any more with the pains I take?' MEMORY I I nursed it in my bosom while it lived, I hid it in my heart when it was dead; In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked truth, I stood aloneI faced the truth alone, Stripped bare of selfregard or forms or ruth Till first and last were shown. I took the perfect balances and weighed; No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise; 10 Weighed, found it wanting not a word I said, But silent made my choice. None know the choice I made; I make it still. None know the choice I made and broke my heart, Breaking mine idol I have braced my will Once, chosen for once my part. I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold, Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live. My heart dies inch by inch; the time grows old, Grows old in which I grieve. 20 II I have a room whereinto no one enters Save I myself alone There sits a blessed memory on a throne, There my life centres. While winter comes and goesoh tedious comer! And while its nipwind blows; While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose Of lavish summer. If any should force entrance he might see there One buried yet not dead, 30 Before whose face I no more bow my head Or bend my knee there; But often in my worn life's autumn weather I watch there with clear eyes, And think how it will be in Paradise When we're together. A ROYAL PRINCESS I, a princess, kingdescended, decked with jewels, gilded, drest, Would rather be a peasant with her baby at her breast, For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west. Two and two my guards behind, two and two before, Two and two on either hand, they guard me evermore; Me, poor dove, that must not cooeagle that must not soar. All my fountains cast up perfumes, all my gardens grow Scented woods and foreign spices, with all flowers in blow That are costly, out of season as the seasons go. All my walls are lost in mirrors, whereupon I trace 10 Self to right hand, self to left hand, self in every place, Selfsame solitary figure, selfsame seeking face. Then I have an ivory chair high to sit upon, Almost like my father's chair, which is an ivory throne; There I sit uplift and upright, there I sit alone. Alone by day, alone by night, alone days without end; My father and my mother give me treasures, search and spend O my father! O my mother! have you ne'er a friend? As I am a lofty princess, so my father is A lofty king, accomplished in all kingly subtilties, 20 Holding in his strong right hand worldkingdoms' balances. He has quarrelled with his neighbours, he has scourged his foes; Vassal counts and princes follow where his pennon goes, Longdescended valiant lords whom the vulture knows, On whose track the vulture swoops, when they ride in state To break the strength of armies and topple down the great Each of these my courteous servant, none of these my mate. My father counting up his strength sets down with equal pen So many head of cattle, head of horses, head of men; These for slaughter, these for breeding, with the how and when. 30 Some to work on roads, canals; some to man his ships; Some to smart in mines beneath sharp overseers' whips; Some to trap furbeasts in lands where utmost winter nips. Once it came into my heart, and whelmed me like a flood, That these too are men and women, human flesh and blood; Men with hearts and men with souls, though trodden down like mud. Our feasting was not glad that night, our music was not gay On my mother's graceful head I marked a thread of grey, My father frowning at the fare seemed every dish to weigh. I sat beside them sole princess in my exalted place, 40 My ladies and my gentlemen stood by me on the dais A mirror showed me I look old and haggard in the face; It showed me that my ladies all are fair to gaze upon, Plump, plenteoushaired, to every one love's secret lore is known, They laugh by day, they sleep by night; ah me, what is a throne? The singing men and women sang that night as usual, The dancers danced in pairs and sets, but music had a fall, A melancholy windy fall as at a funeral. Amid the toss of torches to my chamber back we swept; My ladies loosed my golden chain; meantime I could have wept 50 To think of some in galling chains whether they waked or slept. I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on, They burned sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinnamon, They lit my shaded silver lamp, and left me there alone. A day went by, a week went by. One day I heard it said 'Men are clamouring, women, children, clamouring to be fed; Men like famished dogs are howling in the streets for bread.' So two whispered by my door, not thinking I could hear, Vulgar naked truth, ungarnished for a royal ear; Fit for cooping in the background, not to stalk so near. 60 But I strained my utmost sense to catch this truth, and mark 'There are families out grazing like cattle in the park.' 'A pair of peasants must be saved even if we build an ark.' A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way; One was my page, a lad I reared and bore with day by day; One was my youngest maid as sweet and white as cream in May. Other footsteps followed softly with a weightier tramp; Voices said 'Picked soldiers have been summoned from the camp To quell these baseborn ruffians who make free to howl and stamp.' 'Howl and stamp?' one answered 'They made free to hurl a stone 70 At the minister's state coach, well aimed and stoutly thrown.' 'There's work then for the soldiers, for this rank crop must be mown.' 'One I saw, a poor old fool with ashes on his head, Whimpering because a girl had snatched his crust of bread Then he dropped; when some one raised him, it turned out he was dead.' 'After us the deluge,' was retorted with a laugh 'If bread's the staff of life, they must walk without a staff.' 'While I've a loaf they're welcome to my blessing and the chaff.' These passed. The king stand up. Said my father with a smile 'Daughter mine, your mother comes to sit with you awhile, 80 She's sad today, and who but you her sadness can beguile?' He too left me. Shall I touch my harp now while I wait, (I hear them doubling guard below before our palace gate) Or shall I work the last gold stitch into my veil of state; Or shall my woman stand and read some unimpassioned scene, There's music of a lulling sort in words that pause between; Or shall she merely fan me while I wait here for the queen? Again I caught my father's voice in sharp word of command 'Charge!' a clash of steel 'Charge again, the rebels stand. Smite and spare not, hand to hand; smite and spare not, hand to hand.' There swelled a tumult at the gate, high voices waxing higher; 91 A flash of red reflected light lit the cathedral spire; I heard a cry for faggots, then I heard a yell for fire. 'Sit and roast there with your meat, sit and bake there with your bread, You who sat to see us starve,' one shrieking woman said 'Sit on your throne and roast with your crown upon your head.' Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath; With a ransom in my lap, a king's ransom in my hand, 100 I will go down to this people, will stand face to face, will stand Where they curse king, queen, and princess of this cursed land. They shall take all to buy them bread, take all I have to give; I, if I perish, perish; they today shall eat and live; I, if I perish, perish; that's the goal I half conceive Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart and show The lesson I have learned which is death, is life, to know. I, if I perish, perish; in the name of God I go. SHALL I FORGET? Shall I forget on this side of the grave? I promise nothing you must wait and see Patient and brave. (O my soul, watch with him and he with me.) Shall I forget in peace of Paradise? I promise nothing follow, friend, and see Faithful and wise. (O my soul, lead the way he walks with me.) VANITY OF VANITIES Sonnet Ah, woe is me for pleasure that is vain, Ah, woe is me for glory that is past Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last, Glory that at the last bringeth no gain! So saith the sinking heart; and so again It shall say till the mighty angelblast Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast And showering down the stars like sudden rain. And evermore men shall go fearfully Bending beneath their weight of heaviness; And ancient men shall lie down wearily, And strong men shall rise up in weariness; Yea, even the young shall answer sighingly Saying one to another How vain it is! L. E. L. 'Whose heart was breaking for a little love.' Downstairs I laugh, I sport and jest with all; But in my solitary room above I turn my face in silence to the wall; My heart is breaking for a little love. Though winter frosts are done, And birds pair every one, And leaves peep out, for springtide is begun. I feel no spring, while spring is wellnigh blown, I find no nest, while nests are in the grove Woe's me for mine own heart that dwells alone, 10 My heart that breaketh for a little love.