Part 1
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SONGS OF WOMANHOOD
* * * * *
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
_Uniform with this Volume._
REALMS OF UNKNOWN KINGS.
=The Athenaeum.=--'_In this volume the critic recognises with sudden joy the work of a true poet._'
=The Saturday Review.=--'_It is a book in which deep feeling speaks ... and it has something of that essentially poetical thought, the thought that sees, which lies deeper than feeling._'
LONDON: GRANT RICHARDS.
* * * * *
SONGS OF WOMANHOOD
by
LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA
Grant Richards 48 Leicester Square London 1903
Edinburgh: Printed by T. and A. Constable
A great number of the following verses are already known to readers of _The Herb o' Grace_, and of the little reprint, _Songs of Childhood_. As these pamphlets, however, did not reach the public, it has been thought advisable to re-issue the verses in book-form, together with three or four more collected from various reviews, and a number that are here printed for the first time.
L.A.T.
Contents
PAGE
CHILDHOOD
KING BABY 3
A BLESSING FOR THE BLESSED 5
TO RAOUL BOUCHARD 8
TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 10
THE NESTING HOUR 11
THE LITTLE SISTER--Bath-time 12 Bed-time 13
A TWILIGHT SONG 14
A WINTRY LULLABY 15
THE WARM CRADLE 16
THE DROOPING FLOWER 17
MOTHERS IN THE GARDEN--I. 18 II. 19
THE GRAVEL PATH 20
THE NEW PELISSE 21
SOLACE 22
STRANGE LANDS 23
MARCH MEADOWS--A Lark 24 Lambs 25
THE ROBIN 26
THE MOUSE 27
THE BAT 28
THE SWALLOW 29
SNOWDROPS 30
FROST 32
APPLES 33
LONELY CHILDREN--I. 34 II. 35
PLAYGROUNDS 36
FAIRINGS 38
THE FLOWER TO THE BUD 40
SIX SONGS OF GIRLHOOD
LOVE AND THE MAIDENS 43
AWAKENINGS 44
THE CLOUDED SOUL 46
THE HEALER 47
THE OPEN DOOR 48
THE FUGITIVE 49
THE FAITHFUL WIFE 53
WOMANHOOD
A WOMAN TO HER POET 63
THE INFIDEL 64
LOVE WITHIN VOWS 65
THE EXILE 66
THE SCAR INDELIBLE 67
REVULSION 68
THE CAPTIVE 69
POSSESSION'S ANGUISH 70
TREASURES OF POVERTY 72
SOLITUDE 73
THE HEART ASLEEP 74
ADVERSITY 75
FACES OF THE DEAD 76
THE SLEEPER 80
STARS 81
TRELAWNY'S GRAVE 82
V.R.I.--JANUARY 22, 1901 83
LINES ON A PICTURE BY MARY GOW 84
TO SERENITY 85
ELEVEN SONNETS 89
THE OPEN AIR
SUNSHINE IN FEBRUARY 103
THE CUCKOO 104
A SONG IN THE MORNING 107
IN A LONDON SQUARE 109
THE CALL OF THE GREEN 111
SUMMER ENDING 112
NEAR AUTUMN 114
NOVEMBER 115
THE COMMON WEALTH 117
CHILDHOOD
King Baby
King Baby on his throne Sits reigning O, sits reigning O! King Baby on his throne Sits reigning all alone.
His throne is Mother's knee, So tender O, so tender O! His throne is Mother's knee, Where none may sit but he.
His crown it is of gold, So curly O, so curly O! His crown it is of gold, In shining tendrils rolled.
His kingdom is my heart, So loyal O, so loyal O! His kingdom is my heart, His own in every part.
Divine are all his laws, So simple O, so simple O! Divine are all his laws, With Love for end and cause.
King Baby on his throne Sits reigning O, sits reigning O! King Baby on his throne Sits reigning all alone.
A Blessing for the Blessed
When the sun has left the hill-top, And the daisy-fringe is furled, When the birds from wood and meadow In their hidden nests are curled, Then I think of all the babies That are sleeping in the world....
There are babies in the high lands And babies in the low, There are pale ones wrapped in furry skins On the margin of the snow, And brown ones naked in the isles, Where all the spices grow.
And some are in the palace On a white and downy bed, And some are in the garret With a clout beneath their head, And some are on the cold hard earth, Whose mothers have no bread.
O little men and women, Dear flowers yet unblown! O little kings and beggars Of the pageant yet unshown! Sleep soft and dream pale dreams now, To-morrow is your own....
Though some shall walk in darkness, And others in the light, Though some shall smile and others weep In the silence of the night, When Life has touched with many hues Your souls now clear and white:
God save you, little children! And make your eyes to see His finger pointing in the dark Whatever you may be, Till one and all, through Life and Death, Pass to Eternity....
To Raoul Bouchard
Dear were your kisses, baby boy, Your weight upon my arm: Gay were your tuneful cries of joy As I danced you round the farm: And sweet your softness when we lay Laughing and cooing in the hay.
The summer sun will shine again, Old arms will mow and reap; There'll be new flowers on the plain, New lambs among the sheep; But never in this world of men Shall we two be as we were then.
Your feet have touched the ground, my bird, And now your wondering eyes Will gaze no more as if they heard A seraph in the skies: A little boy, with leap and shout You'll wildly chase your dreams about.
But when you are a man, soft thing, And life has made you stern, May we who watched you in your spring Still feel our babe return In hallowed moments, such as shine When thought or deed makes man divine.
To-day and To-morrow
Little hands--what will you grasp When you leave this nest, O? Little arms--what will you clasp Against that tender breast, O? Cling to mother's finger, babe, Throw sweet arms about me! Here no noons may linger, babe, Soon you'll love without me.
Little toes--where will you turn, East or south or west, O? Little feet--what sands that burn Will you soon have pressed, O? Lie on mother's knee, my own, Dance your heels about me! Apples leave the tree, my own, Soon you'll live without me....
The Nesting Hour
Robin-friend has gone to bed, Little wing to hide his head-- Mother's bird must slumber too Just as baby Robins do-- When the stars begin to rise, Birds and babies close their eyes.
The Little Sister
BATH-TIME:
Baby's got no legs at all, They're soft and pinky, crumpled things; If he stood up he'd only fall: But then, you see, he's used to wings.
BED-TIME:
Baby baby bye, Close your little eye! When the dark begins to creep, Tiny-wees must go to sleep.
Lammy lammy lie, I am seven, I; Little boys must sleep and wait, If they want their bed-time late.
Fidgy fidgy fie, There's no need to cry! Soon you'll never dress in white, But sit up working half the night....
A Twilight Song
Baby moon, 'tis time for bed, Owlet leaves his nest now; Hide your little horned head In the twilight west now; When you're old and round and bright, You shall stay and shine all night.
Baby girl is going too In her bed to creep now; She is little, just like you, Time it is to sleep now; When she's old and tired and wise, She'll be glad to close her eyes.
A Wintry Lullaby
Blow, wind, blow, The fields are white with snow-- Sleeping daisies, deep and warm, Cannot hear the Winter storm.
Freeze, air, freeze, The rime is on the trees-- Sleeping buds within the bough, Dream of spring and cuckoos now.
Turn, earth, turn, The flames of life do burn-- Sleeping girl, my baby dove, Knows no world but mother's love.
The Warm Cradle
Hush, baby, hush, Sweet robin's in the bush-- All the birdies lie so quiet, Won't my little dicky try it? Hush, baby, hush.
Sleep, baby, sleep, The lammies love the sheep-- Woolly babes all nestle cosy, Lie, my lambkin, warm and rosy, Sleep, baby, sleep.
Dream, baby, dream, Our feet are in the stream-- Stones below but stars above, child, Life is warm so long we love, child, Dream, baby, dream.
The Drooping Flower
Baby's rather ill to-night, Little face is long and white, Eyes are all too large and bright-- What shall mother do now?
Never leave him out of sight, Hold him warm and still and tight, Make him well with all her might, That's what she will do now.
Mothers in the Garden
I
Wagtail--pied Wagtail-- What tremor's in your breast? On nimble feet, when we draw near, You run about to hide your fear, As if to say: There's nothing here, I have no nest....
Wagtail--pied Wagtail-- We too their voices heard; Away then to the water-side, And fetch the food for which they cried; From us there is no need to hide, My dainty bird.
II
The thrushes' nest has fallen From the ivy on the wall: The dear blue eggs are broken, All broken by the fall.
But we heard a song at sundown That said: O tears are vain!-- And babe and I ceased grieving: We think they will build again.
The Gravel Path
Tiny mustn't frown When she tumbles down; If the wind should change--Ah me, What a face her face would be!
Rub away the dirt, Say she wasn't hurt; What a world 'twould be--O my, If all who fell began to cry!
The New Pelisse
Baby's got a new pelisse, Very soft and very neat-- Like a lammy in her fleece She's all white from head to feet.
Thirty lambs each gave a curl, Mother sewed them, stitch by stitch-- All to clothe a baby-girl: Don't you think she's very rich?
Solace
Whom does Miss belong to? Just to Mother, Mother only: That's whom Miss belongs to, --And Mother's never lonely.
Whom's this little song to? Just to Baby, Baby only: That's whom little song's to, --And Baby's never lonely.
Strange Lands
Where do you come from, Mr. Jay?-- 'From the land of Play, from the land of Play.' And where can that be, Mr. Jay?-- 'Far away--far away.'
Where do you come from, Mrs. Dove?-- 'From the land of Love, from the land of Love.' And how do you get there, Mrs. Dove?-- 'Look above--look above.'
Where do you come from, Baby Miss?-- 'From the land of Bliss, from the land of Bliss.' And what is the way there, Baby Miss?-- 'Mother's kiss--mother's kiss.'
March Meadows
A LARK:
Lark-bird, lark-bird soaring high, Are you never weary? When you reach the empty sky, Are the clouds not dreary? Don't you sometimes long to be A silent gold-fish in the sea?
Gold-fish, gold-fish diving deep, Are you never sad, say? When you feel the cold waves creep Are you really glad, say? Don't you sometimes long to sing And be a lark-bird on the wing?
LAMBS:
O little lambs! the month is cold, The sky is very gray; You shiver in the misty grass And bleat at all the winds that pass; Wait! when I'm big--some day-- I'll build a roof to every fold.
But now that I am small, I'll pray At mother's knee for you; Perhaps the angels with their wings Will come and warm you, little things; I'm sure that, if God knew, He'd let the lambs be born in May.
The Robin
When father takes his spade to dig, Then Robin comes along; He sits upon a little twig And sings a little song.
Or, if the trees are rather far, He does not stay alone, But comes up close to where we are And bobs upon a stone.
The Mouse
Little Master Mouse, You'd better leave this house; Crumbs are scarce upon the floor, And pussy sleeps behind the door.
Mousie soft and grey, I wish you'd run away! Cook will catch you in a trap, And mice mayn't sit in mother's lap....
The Bat
Bat, Bat, that flies at night When angels' breath has blown the light, When all the bees are hived in bed And swallow sleeps with hidden head: Songless bird! until this hour, Among the bells in the ivied tower Have you hung dreaming in your house? Are you a living winged mouse?-- Bat, Bat, I often doubt; And when I see you flit about, I wonder if the dead birds roam In circles round their nestlings' home....
The Swallow
O Swallow! if I had your wings I would not stay below; I'd leave off catching flies and things And up to Heaven I'd go.
I'd sail above the tallest tree That waves its arms on high; Beyond the furthest cloud we see, And deeper than the sky.
Perhaps, when live birds find the way, They're all sent down again, And that is why you dive to-day For insects in the rain.
Snowdrops
Little ladies, white and green, With your spears about you, Will you tell us where you've been Since we lived without you?
You are sweet, and fresh, and clean, With your pearly faces; In the dark earth where you've been There are wondrous places:
Yet you come again, serene, When the leaves are hidden; Bringing joy from where you've been You return unbidden--
Little ladies, white and green, Are you glad to cheer us? Hunger not for where you've been, Stay till Spring be near us!
Frost
The flowers in the garden Are very cold at night; When I look out of window Their beds are hard and white.
The primrose and the scilla, The merry crocus too-- O Jane! if we were flowers, What should we children do?
We'd have to sleep all naked Beneath the windy trees; Yet we should die, I know it, With even a chemise....
Apples
Red cheeks, red cheeks, Will you play with me? No boy, pale boy, I want to climb that tree.
Red cheeks, red cheeks, You will tumble down-- No boy, pale boy, I'll eat the apples brown.
Red cheeks, red cheeks, Barns are best for rain-- No boy, pale boy, I'll soon be down again.
Lonely Children
I
The trees are dusty in the Park, The grass is hard and brown; I'm glad I've got a Noah's ark, But I'm sorry I'm in town.
A lot of little girls and boys Are not so rich as me; But O! I'd give them all my toys For shells beside the sea....
II
The flowers are happy in the garden, For the bees are always there; The clouds are happy up in Heaven With the angels in the air; But little boy and little mouse Are rather lonely in the house.
Playgrounds
In summer I am very glad We children are so small, For we can see a thousand things That men can't see at all.
They don't know much about the moss And all the stones they pass: They never lie and play among The forests in the grass:
They walk about a long way off; And, when we're at the sea, Let father stoop as best he can He can't find things like me.
But, when the snow is on the ground And all the puddles freeze, I wish that I were very tall, High up above the trees....
Fairings
O, Father has donned his suit of brown And saddled the gelding gray, And he's ridden off to London town Where the streets are fine and gay.
And Mother has asked for a yard of lace, And Kate for a kerchief new, And Moll for a mirror to look at her face, And Bessie for beads, all blue;
And Dick has been promised a kite so tall, And Jamie a leathern whip, And Baby shall play with a painted ball, And O! I have asked for a ship!--
But our eldest sister stood apart, And I think I heard her say: 'O bring me back a little white heart Like the one I lost in May....'
The Flower to the Bud
Tiny heart beneath my hand, Say, what treasures will you hold? O, what blossom will unfold, Late to bloom, or soon to fade, From this bud, my baby-maid? Through what shallows will you wade, To what heights will you aspire In your spirit's white desire? Will you mar or will you make? Will you give or will you take? Will you glow or will you break With the running of the sand-- Tiny heart beneath my hand?...
SIX SONGS OF GIRLHOOD
Love and the Maidens
He seemed asleep; his wings were wet With dew; he lay among the flowers, Sweeter than Spring; his radiant curls With primrose and with violet Were crowned; and in a silent ring the girls Watched, all an April morning's misty hours....
Not one dared wake him--yet each breast Yearned to be pillow to a thing So fair. 'How will he smile?' thought they, 'In waking?...' But between them pressed One who with laughter bore the rogue away, Ere they had touched a feather of his wing.
Awakenings
The first time she awoke, Her room was filled with light; Thought she: They've made a little fire To warm me through the night....
The next time she awoke, Sweet music stirred the air; Thought she: They've brought a magic lyre To make my dreams more fair....
The third time she awoke, The dawn-swept sky was gray; Thought she: I know my heart's desire Will come to me to-day....
But empty was the street, And ashen was the hearth; And the music-maker's nimble feet Were speeding o'er the earth.
The Clouded Soul
O what have you done with your heart, daughter, And what have you done to your soul, my dear? Your heart was like a lily in June, And your soul as a crystal clear....
O, I've thrown my heart in a well, mother, For the lily was sick, and needed rain: O, I've wept a cloud round my soul, mother, And we never shall see it again....
The Healer
O will you have my heart, sweet maid, My heart so true, my heart so red? O will you have my heart, dear maid, And give me yours instead?
O keep your heart, my good young man, For mine is wounded, deep and sore; O keep your heart, my kind young man, For mine shall love no more....
The Open Door
Why have you locked the door, my maid, Why have you locked the door? O! I have let Grief out, she said, Never to enter more.
Open and set it wide, my maid, Open and set it wide! Lest Joy should come one day, he said, And have to stand outside.
The Fugitive
When she returned to the clouded land, She held sweet flowers in her hand; Her eyes were bright With a beaming light That none could understand.
Said they: Where, sister, hast thou been? What hidden glory hast thou seen? What magic sod Has thy white foot trod; What song-filled groves of green?
Said she: I followed across the plain To the gates of Love, to the gates of Pain: By one, by two, All the rest went through: But I came back again....
THE FAITHFUL WIFE
The Faithful Wife
It was a banished chieftain Returned from oversea, And he saw his wife and children Come smiling o'er the lea.
The moon had wrapped them in her beams, The wind was in their hair, Their feet that trod the wild bluebell Were light as wings on air.
'O have you come to meet me, wife, As you once did swear to do? Full seven years have I been gone, And was your word so true?'
He took her by the white cool hand Where the golden rings shone gay; He took her youngest on his arm And joyful led the way.
'O fair are ye, my father's towers, And sweet my garden dear: God grant I never leave you more Till Death o'ertake me here!'
The lights were burning in the hall, As they sat them down to meat; The pipers piped a merry tune The while their lord did eat.
He looked to right, he looked to left, And a happy man was he, As he stroked the head of the good gre-hound That stood beside his knee.
'O, I am weary, wife, my wife, And the flames begin to pale; Lead on, for I would sleep awhile Before I tell my tale.'
She lifted the bright curtain That led into her bower; There came the tramp of parting feet And silence held the tower.
'O wife, how long have I been gone? The room smells of roses still-- O wife, our babes are very young, Their limbs are cold and chill....'
She folded up their raiment small, She smiled but said no word: She laid her children in one bed, Then came beside her lord.
He could not sleep, he could not wake, But lay in silence there; His dear wife held him by the hand, He felt her wind-blown hair--
'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one, 'Why must we sleep so soon? The sun is hidden down below, I still can see the moon.'