Part 2

Therefore, scorn not these flowers of phantasy That blow about the ivory gate of dreams, For though they have not truth or constancy Yet very fair their idle semblance seems. Though short the blest relief they bring to woe, And wakening the worm 'gins gnaw again, Yet comely truth is grown a grim death's head. Fly the unconquerable foe; Go, in an empty dream lost joys regain And down among the poppies meet your dead.

_Artificial Light_

Warm and golden and dear In custom and kindness set, We builded against our fear A place wherein to forget Darkness that rings us near.

Here our hearts we deceive And will not understand. Whether we laugh or grieve We dwell in a lamp-lit land-- A land of make-believe

Not too high for our pride Whereto we are ever bond Nor for our souls too wide-- And all is night beyond Where monstrous things abide.

Still without ceasing we Watch on our stronghold keep, Lest lamps burn flickeringly, And, while we slumber and sleep, Outcast eternity

Break in a moment through Our soul-built barriers slight, Look in on us with blue Lustreless eyes, whose light Life everlasting slew.

Heavy with endless days, With endless wisdom sad, Should those eyes behold our days And our loves wherein we are glad, We might not abide their gaze.

Our sorrows flee fast away Like shadows before the morn, In the light of eternal day Pale all our joys forlorn, Elf-gold that will not stay;

Find we, looking again, For all our cherished treasures And all our labours vain, Weariness all our pleasures And worthless all our pain.

Our vanities kissed and curled, Ere the swift vision is gone, Into the void are hurled; But we ourselves live on, Waifs in a blasted world,

Where light and laughter and love Lie dead in the dark together And we brood their dust above, Knowing not surely whether 'Tis life at our hearts doth move.

Lost without remedy, We sit under pitiless skies Mourning the moment we Looked with our finite eyes Into Infinity!

_Epitaph_

_On a Child left Buried Abroad_

Father, forget not, now that we must go, A little one in alien earth low laid; Send some kind angel when thy trumpets blow Lest he should wake alone, and be afraid.

_Veronica_

She lifted up her eyes and looked at me;-- Straightway, methought that I was gazing down Through lacy lattices of meadow grass, Into the face of that low, little flower, That holds all fathomless eternity, Inscrutable, immeasurable dusk's Heart-breaking blue, and night's first timid star, Prisoned and mirrored in a shallow cup, So small a single dewdrop would o'erflow it, So frail no vagrant bee could rest thereon. But unaware of its own loveliness This symbol of all mysteries sad and sweet Fixes on heaven the wide unwinking stare Of blind, bright eyes, coloured and glorified, By light and hues, it apprehendeth not.-- Even so, lovely, senseless and aloof, Round-eyed Veronica looked up at me.

_Moonlight_

Even as walk on middle earth The shades of the unquiet dead That loathe the graves allotted them from birth And wander without end, uncomforted; So the dead moon, poor restless rover That died by fire, long, long ago, Wanders forlorn the steeps of heaven over; With death's despair and life's outwearied woe She journeys, a reluctant lustre giving To this world's throbbing life and strong, And, being dead, envieth all things living, And sheds a passing death her beams along. To that weird corpse-light worse than dark, All fair things for a little die; The spell-bound earth lies, colourless and stark, Beneath the wan ghost witch's jealous eye.

_Waking_

So fair a dream last night my heart had kissed, I sought some token of it, but 'twould give Nothing, save formless fancies fugitive, That slipped from words' encirclement away-- As, when hell's shades 'gan quicken with the day, His lost belovèd fled the lutanist.

_Feather Boats_

While the wind low o'er the green pool creeps Spoiling with kisses the wood's mirrored beauty, Kneel we close down by the margin preparing To launch the frail craft on those perilous deeps. Swift the wind takes them, we lean to see Over the water gallantly faring Forth our fantastical argosy.

Silver-white galleons beating to seaward, Freighted with fancies lighter than foam, Bound for far havens and tall towns enchanted-- Stir, sleepy breezes, and bring them safe home.

Cabot sailing for ever and ever To the unknown where the wild ducks nest; Morgan mooring to rape the treasure Hid in a lily's unsullied breast; Nearer, in shore among lowering leaf-bergs Franklin, crushed on his fatal quest.

So I behold in your eyes re-awaken Brave sad tales that the sea wind sings, Tales of old mariners, daring hid dangers, Ghosts of forgotten adventurings.

Heart of my heart, in your manhood's hereafter, When you've grown taller, and harder to please, Will you turn sometimes your wandering wishes Back to the hours when with eyes full of laughter You watched where the day-dreaming willow trees Dipped their long fingers to catch at the fishes, Mock sails flying on mimic seas?

_The Lovers' Walk_

Two lovers walked in a green garden way 'Neath towering poplar pillars all arow; The still June midnight close about them lay: They whispered soft and low.

Though they could feel no wind, they heard it creep High in the poplars, whispering secret schemes; The tall trees stood as sentinels asleep, And listening through their dreams.

The full moon's white fire lamp hung round and fair Above the highest poplar's shivering crest, The lazy fountain's waters stirred the air And softly sank to rest.

Unseen the honeysuckle trailed that fills The dim air with its heavy sweet perfume, But the wan fire-eyed wraiths of daffodils Stared spectral through the gloom.

They felt no footsteps fall beside their own, But long their like had loved the garden well; And never two may walk this walk alone: Their presence wakes a spell.

When here live lovers loiter to and fro With tender words and lips of kisses fain, Then those dead men that walked here long ago Meet their lost loves again.

The grey dew keeps no traces of their feet, Their speech is lighter than the bat's shrill cry, They hover where of yore they used to meet Like shadows passing by.

Though many wander where the moonlight lies Yet are they lonely as in life they were, For each ghost looks into his own love's eyes And sees no other there.

And when the living lips their farewells frame And the live feet turn to the garden door, The shades depart in darkness as they came And are not any more.

Did those two guess who loved that night in June That others trod the grass as well as they, And won from them a passing moment's boon To love as in life's day?

Or did they think in that still haunted place, As those poor phantoms were they soon must be And pluck at other unknown lovers' grace The joys that once were free?

Perchance their glad hearts thrust such thoughts away; Of that night's tryst no more than this they own: That they two, in a grassy garden way Once walked an hour alone.

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