Part 1

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Poems and Ballads

Third Series

By

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles Swinburne--Vol. III

THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE

VOL. III

POEMS & BALLADS

(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)

AND

SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

SWINBURNE'S POETICAL WORKS

I. POEMS AND BALLADS (First Series).

II. SONGS BEFORE SUNRISE, AND SONGS OF TWO NATIONS.

III. POEMS AND BALLADS (Second and Third Series), and SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES.

IV. TRISTRAM OF LYONESSE, THE TALE OF BALEN, ATALANTA IN CALYDON, ERECHTHEUS.

V. STUDIES IN SONG, A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS, SONNETS ON ENGLISH DRAMATIC POETS, THE HEPTALOGIA, ETC.

VI. A MIDSUMMER HOLIDAY, ASTROPHEL, A CHANNEL PASSAGE AND OTHER POEMS.

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

POEMS & BALLADS

(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)

AND

SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES

By

Algernon Charles Swinburne

1917

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

_First printed (Chatto), 1904_

_Reprinted 1904, '09, '10, '12_

_(Heinemann), 1917_

_London: William Heinemann, 1917_

POEMS AND BALLADS

THIRD SERIES

PAGE MARCH: AN ODE 169

THE COMMONWEAL 174

THE ARMADA 187

TO A SEAMEW 211

PAN AND THALASSIUS 215

A BALLAD OF BATH 222

IN A GARDEN 224

A RHYME 226

BABY-BIRD 228

OLIVE 230

A WORD WITH THE WIND 234

NEAP-TIDE 238

BY THE WAYSIDE 241

NIGHT 243

IN TIME OF MOURNING 244

THE INTERPRETERS 245

THE RECALL 248

BY TWILIGHT 249

A BABY'S EPITAPH 250

ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY TAYLOR 251

IN MEMORY OF JOHN WILLIAM INCHBOLD 252

NEW YEAR'S DAY 257

TO SIR RICHARD F. BURTON 258

NELL GWYN 259

CALIBAN ON ARIEL 260

THE WEARY WEDDING 261

THE WINDS 270

A LYKE-WAKE SONG 271

A REIVER'S NECK-VERSE 272

THE WITCH-MOTHER 273

THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY 276

A JACOBITE'S FAREWELL 281

A JACOBITE'S EXILE 282

THE TYNESIDE WIDOW 286

DEDICATION 289

POEMS AND BALLADS

THIRD SERIES

TO

WILLIAM BELL SCOTT

POET AND PAINTER

I DEDICATE THESE POEMS

IN MEMORY OF MANY YEARS

MARCH: AN ODE

1887

I

Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour of winter had passed out of sight, The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger than dreams that fulfil us in sleep with delight; The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops and branches that glittered and swayed Such wonders and glories of blossomlike snow or of frost that outlightens all flowers till it fade That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land, nor the night than the day, nor the day than the night, Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring: such mirth had the madness and might in thee made, March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms that enkindle the season they smite.

II

And now that the rage of thy rapture is satiate with revel and ravin and spoil of the snow, And the branches it brightened are broken, and shattered the tree-tops that only thy wrath could lay low, How should not thy lovers rejoice in thee, leader and lord of the year that exults to be born So strong in thy strength and so glad of thy gladness whose laughter puts winter and sorrow to scorn? Thou hast shaken the snows from thy wings, and the frost on thy forehead is molten: thy lips are aglow As a lover's that kindle with kissing, and earth, with her raiment and tresses yet wasted and torn, Takes breath as she smiles in the grasp of thy passion to feel through her spirit the sense of thee flow.

III

Fain, fain would we see but again for an hour what the wind and the sun have dispelled and consumed, Those full deep swan-soft feathers of snow with whose luminous burden the branches implumed Hung heavily, curved as a half-bent bow, and fledged not as birds are, but petalled as flowers, Each tree-top and branchlet a pinnacle jewelled and carved, or a fountain that shines as it showers, But fixed as a fountain is fixed not, and wrought not to last till by time or by tempest entombed, As a pinnacle carven and gilded of men: for the date of its doom is no more than an hour's, One hour of the sun's when the warm wind wakes him to wither the snow-flowers that froze as they bloomed.

IV

As the sunshine quenches the snowshine; as April subdues thee, and yields up his kingdom to May; So time overcomes the regret that is born of delight as it passes in passion away, And leaves but a dream for desire to rejoice in or mourn for with tears or thanksgivings; but thou, Bright god that art gone from us, maddest and gladdest of months, to what goal hast thou gone from us now? For somewhere surely the storm of thy laughter that lightens, the beat of thy wings that play, Must flame as a fire through the world, and the heavens that we know not rejoice in thee: surely thy brow Hath lost not its radiance of empire, thy spirit the joy that impelled it on quest as for prey.

V

Are thy feet on the ways of the limitless waters, thy wings on the winds of the waste north sea? Are the fires of the false north dawn over heavens where summer is stormful and strong like thee Now bright in the sight of thine eyes? are the bastions of icebergs assailed by the blast of thy breath? Is it March with the wild north world when April is waning? the word that the changed year saith, Is it echoed to northward with rapture of passion reiterate from spirits triumphant as we Whose hearts were uplift at the blast of thy clarions as men's rearisen from a sleep that was death And kindled to life that was one with the world's and with thine? hast thou set not the whole world free?

VI

For the breath of thy lips is freedom, and freedom's the sense of thy spirit, the sound of thy song, Glad god of the north-east wind, whose heart is as high as the hands of thy kingdom are strong, Thy kingdom whose empire is terror and joy, twin-featured and fruitful of births divine, Days lit with the flame of the lamps of the flowers, and nights that are drunken with dew for wine, And sleep not for joy of the stars that deepen and quicken, a denser and fierier throng, And the world that thy breath bade whiten and tremble rejoices at heart as they strengthen and shine, And earth gives thanks for the glory bequeathed her, and knows of thy reign that it wrought not wrong.

VII

Thy spirit is quenched not, albeit we behold not thy face in the crown of the steep sky's arch, And the bold first buds of the whin wax golden, and witness arise of the thorn and the larch: Wild April, enkindled to laughter and storm by the kiss of the wildest of winds that blow, Calls loud on his brother for witness; his hands that were laden with blossom are sprinkled with snow, And his lips breathe winter, and laugh, and relent; and the live woods feel not the frost's flame parch; For the flame of the spring that consumes not but quickens is felt at the heart of the forest aglow, And the sparks that enkindled and fed it were strewn from the hands of the gods of the winds of March.

THE COMMONWEAL

1887

I

Eight hundred years and twenty-one Have shone and sunken since the land Whose name is freedom bore such brand As marks a captive, and the sun Beheld her fettered hand.

II

But ere dark time had shed as rain Or sown on sterile earth as seed That bears no fruit save tare and weed An age and half an age again, She rose on Runnymede.

III

Out of the shadow, starlike still, She rose up radiant in her right, And spake, and put to fear and flight The lawless rule of awless will That pleads no right save might.

IV

Nor since hath England ever borne The burden laid on subject lands, The rule that curbs and binds all hands Save one, and marks for servile scorn The heads it bows and brands.

V

A commonweal arrayed and crowned With gold and purple, girt with steel At need, that foes must fear or feel, We find her, as our fathers found, Earth's lordliest commonweal.

VI

And now that fifty years are flown Since in a maiden's hand the sign Of empire that no seas confine First as a star to seaward shone, We see their record shine.

VII

A troubled record, foul and fair, A simple record and serene, Inscribes for praise a blameless queen, For praise and blame an age of care And change and ends unseen.

VIII

Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing, Rose with the sundawn of a reign Whose grace should make the rough ways plain, And fill the worn old world with spring, And heal its heart of pain.

IX

Peace was to be on earth; men's hope Was holier than their fathers had, Their wisdom not more wise than glad: They saw the gates of promise ope, And heard what love's lips bade.

X

Love armed with knowledge, winged and wise, Should hush the wind of war, and see, They said, the sun of days to be Bring round beneath serener skies A stormless jubilee.

XI

Time, in the darkness unbeholden That hides him from the sight of fear And lets but dreaming hope draw near, Smiled and was sad to hear such golden Strains hail the all-golden year.

XII

Strange clouds have risen between, and wild Red stars of storm that lit the abyss Wherein fierce fraud and violence kiss And mock such promise as beguiled The fiftieth year from this.

XIII

War upon war, change after change, Hath shaken thrones and towers to dust, And hopes austere and faiths august Have watched in patience stern and strange Men's works unjust and just.

XIV

As from some Alpine watch-tower's portal Night, living yet, looks forth for dawn, So from time's mistier mountain lawn The spirit of man, in trust immortal, Yearns toward a hope withdrawn.

XV

The morning comes not, yet the night Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see Where twilight is, where light shall be When conquered wrong and conquering right Acclaim a world set free.

XVI

Calm as our mother-land, the mother Of faith and freedom, pure and wise, Keeps watch beneath unchangeful skies, When hath she watched the woes of other Strange lands with alien eyes?

XVII

Calm as she stands alone, what nation Hath lacked an alms from English hands? What exiles from what stricken lands Have lacked the shelter of the station Where higher than all she stands?

XVIII

Though time discrown and change dismantle The pride of thrones and towers that frown, How should they bring her glories down-- The sea cast round her like a mantle, The sea-cloud like a crown?

XIX

The sea, divine as heaven and deathless, Is hers, and none but only she Hath learnt the sea's word, none but we Her children hear in heart the breathless Bright watchword of the sea.

XX

Heard not of others, or misheard Of many a land for many a year, The watchword Freedom fails not here Of hearts that witness if the word Find faith in England's ear.

XXI

She, first to love the light, and daughter Incarnate of the northern dawn, She, round whose feet the wild waves fawn When all their wrath of warring water Sounds like a babe's breath drawn,

XXII

How should not she best know, love best, And best of all souls understand The very soul of freedom, scanned Far off, sought out in darkling quest By men at heart unmanned?

XXIII

They climb and fall, ensnared, enshrouded, By mists of words and toils they set To take themselves, till fierce regret Grows mad with shame, and all their clouded Red skies hang sunless yet.

XXIV

But us the sun, not wholly risen Nor equal now for all, illumes With more of light than cloud that looms; Of light that leads forth souls from prison And breaks the seals of tombs.

XXV

Did not her breasts who reared us rear Him who took heaven in hand, and weighed Bright world with world in balance laid? What Newton's might could make not clear Hath Darwin's might not made?

XXVI

The forces of the dark dissolve, The doorways of the dark are broken: The word that casts out night is spoken, And whence the springs of things evolve Light born of night bears token.

XXVII

She, loving light for light's sake only, And truth for only truth's, and song For song's sake and the sea's, how long Hath she not borne the world her lonely Witness of right and wrong?

XXVIII

From light to light her eyes imperial Turn, and require the further light, More perfect than the sun's in sight, Till star and sun seem all funereal Lamps of the vaulted night.

XXIX

She gazes till the strenuous soul Within the rapture of her eyes Creates or bids awake, arise, The light she looks for, pure and whole And worshipped of the wise.

XXX

Such sons are hers, such radiant hands Have borne abroad her lamp of old, Such mouths of honey-dropping gold Have sent across all seas and lands Her fame as music rolled.

XXXI

As music made of rolling thunder That hurls through heaven its heart sublime, Its heart of joy, in charging chime, So ring the songs that round and under Her temple surge and climb.

XXXII

A temple not by men's hands builded, But moulded of the spirit, and wrought Of passion and imperious thought; With light beyond all sunlight gilded, Whereby the sun seems nought.

XXXIII

Thy shrine, our mother, seen for fairer Than even thy natural face, made fair With kisses of thine April air Even now, when spring thy banner-bearer Took up thy sign to bear;

XXXIV

Thine annual sign from heaven's own arch Given of the sun's hand into thine, To rear and cheer each wildwood shrine But now laid waste by wild-winged March, March, mad with wind like wine.

XXXV

From all thy brightening downs whereon The windy seaward whin-flower shows Blossom whose pride strikes pale the rose Forth is the golden watchword gone Whereat the world's face glows.

XXXVI

Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring Till earth seems glorious as the sea: With yearning love too glad for glee The world's heart quivers toward the spring As all our hearts toward thee.

XXXVII

Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest Assurance to the heavens most high And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh That by the sea's grace while thou livest Hope shall not wholly die.

XXXVIII

That while thy free folk hold the van Of all men, and the sea-spray shed As dew more heavenly on thy head Keeps bright thy face in sight of man, Man's pride shall drop not dead.

XXXIX

A pride more pure than humblest prayer, More wise than wisdom born of doubt, Girds for thy sake men's hearts about With trust and triumph that despair And fear may cast not out.

XL

Despair may wring men's hearts, and fear Bow down their heads to kiss the dust, Where patriot memories rot and rust, And change makes faint a nation's cheer, And faith yields up her trust.

XLI

Not here this year have true men known, Not here this year may true men know, That brand of shame-compelling woe Which bids but brave men shrink or groan And lays but honour low.

XLII

The strong spring wind blows notes of praise, And hallowing pride of heart, and cheer Unchanging, toward all true men here Who hold the trust of ancient days High as of old this year.

XLIII

The days that made thee great are dead; The days that now must keep thee great Lie not in keeping of thy fate; In thine they lie, whose heart and head Sustain thy charge of state.

XLIV

No state so proud, no pride so just, The sun, through clouds at sunrise curled Or clouds across the sunset whirled, Hath sight of, nor has man such trust As thine in all the world.

XLV

Each hour that sees the sunset's crest Make bright thy shores ere day decline Sees dawn the sun on shores of thine, Sees west as east and east as west On thee their sovereign shine.

XLVI

The sea's own heart must needs wax proud To have borne the world a child like thee. What birth of earth might ever be Thy sister? Time, a wandering cloud, Is sunshine on thy sea.

XLVII

Change mars not her; and thee, our mother, What change that irks or moves thee mars? What shock that shakes? what chance that jars? Time gave thee, as he gave none other, A station like a star's.

XLVIII

The storm that shrieks, the wind that wages War with the wings of hopes that climb Too high toward heaven in doubt sublime, Assail not thee, approved of ages The towering crown of time.

XLIX

Toward thee this year thy children turning With souls uplift of changeless cheer Salute with love that casts out fear, With hearts for beacons round thee burning, The token of this year.

L

With just and sacred jubilation Let earth sound answer to the sea For witness, blown on winds as free, How England, how her crowning nation, Acclaims this jubilee.

THE ARMADA

1588: 1888

I

I

England, mother born of seamen, daughter fostered of the sea, Mother more beloved than all who bear not all their children free, Reared and nursed and crowned and cherished by the sea-wind and the sun, Sweetest land and strongest, face most fair and mightiest heart in one, Stands not higher than when the centuries known of earth were less by three, When the strength that struck the whole world pale fell back from hers undone.

II

At her feet were the heads of her foes bowed down, and the strengths of the storm of them stayed, And the hearts that were touched not with mercy with terror were touched and amazed and affrayed: Yea, hearts that had never been molten with pity were molten with fear as with flame, And the priests of the Godhead whose temple is hell, and his heart is of iron and fire, And the swordsmen that served and the seamen that sped them, whom peril could tame not or tire, Were as foam on the winds of the waters of England which tempest can tire not or tame.

III

They were girded about with thunder, and lightning came forth of the rage of their strength, And the measure that measures the wings of the storm was the breadth of their force and the length: And the name of their might was Invincible, covered and clothed with the terror of God; With his wrath were they winged, with his love were they fired, with the speed of his winds were they shod; With his soul were they filled, in his trust were they comforted: grace was upon them as night, And faith as the blackness of darkness: the fume of their balefires was fair in his sight, The reek of them sweet as a savour of myrrh in his nostrils: the world that he made, Theirs was it by gift of his servants: the wind, if they spake in his name, was afraid, And the sun was a shadow before it, the stars were astonished with fear of it: fire Went up to them, fed with men living, and lit of men's hands for a shrine or a pyre; And the east and the west wind scattered their ashes abroad, that his name should be blest Of the tribes of the chosen whose blessings are curses from uttermost east unto west.

II

I

Hell for Spain, and heaven for England,--God to God, and man to man,-- Met confronted, light with darkness, life with death: since time began, Never earth nor sea beheld so great a stake before them set, Save when Athens hurled back Asia from the lists wherein they met; Never since the sands of ages through the glass of history ran Saw the sun in heaven a lordlier day than this that lights us yet.

II

For the light that abides upon England, the glory that rests on her godlike name, The pride that is love and the love that is faith, a perfume dissolved in flame, Took fire from the dawn of the fierce July when fleets were scattered as foam And squadrons as flakes of spray; when galleon and galliass that shadowed the sea Were swept from her waves like shadows that pass with the clouds they fell from, and she Laughed loud to the wind as it gave to her keeping the glories of Spain and Rome.

III