Part 2

'Be quiet, be quiet, my little child, And watch the moonbeams creep; To-night you may not play about, For your father lies asleep.'

'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one, 'It is not time for bed! Where have you put my little lid? I cannot hide my head.'

'Lie still, lie still, my tiny child, Your father dear is found: We four shall never sleep again In the dark and heavy mound.'

'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one, 'How shall that ever be? We may not bide in the light of day To watch upon the lea.'

'No need, no need, my pretty child, For your father dear has come; We'll kiss him once, we'll kiss him twice, Then seek our own far home.'

He heard them laugh with baby joy, He felt their kisses sweet, He heard the patter to the door Of their unearthly feet....

He could not stir when she bent low To kiss him on the lips-- He could not raise, to hold her fast, His anguished finger-tips;

But his heart against her silent breast Beat loud in wild despair-- He heard the swaying of her skirt, And his soul leapt forth in prayer.

. . . . .

A shepherd rose to call his sheep When the morning sky was gray; The owl flew back to the ruined tower-- He led his flock that way.

And lo! amid the scattered stones That the foe had strewn around, He saw his long-lost chieftain lie A corpse upon the ground.

A smile was on his breathless lips, And he lay on the flowered sward, Where his wife and babes had bled to death Beneath a traitor's sword.

WOMANHOOD

A Woman to her Poet

In three worlds King art thou of my desire, O thou of many crowns! whose brow, birth-bound With light, wears wisdom's diadem. Thou lyre Of the speechless soul, in silence triple-crowned! My love's proud empire smiles to know thee King; And in the realms of Womanhood I wind A coronet of Faith, a blood-rose ring With azure chain of sapphire intertwined; And where the mind's pure kingdom is, I seek Bright crystals, pearls of Truth divine and rare To honour thee; but on the aerial peak That marks the Soul's eternal region--there Thou thronest Monarch of a world serene, Crowned with the emerald's unfathomed green.

The Infidel

My soul at times, outworn by length of woe, A strange appeasement seeks in doubting thee, And cries: My sacred mount's a thing as low As any hillock; shallow rolls the sea That should have quenched my deep unbounded thirst; My star's a lamp that flickers earthly light; Mere surf-worn glass my emerald; why burst, O heart! for love of these?--Then, fullest night Environs me, thou banished; stretching wide My arms, I grope for refuge; all my pain Cries babe-like for a breast whereon to hide, And on to thine I fling myself again.... Thus fools, impatient of God's silence, cry: There is no God!--and seek what they deny.

Love Within Vows

We love, and O! we know it; yet Love's name Upon our lips a tremulous wish must die; We both were made for loving, you and I, And still was Love denied. To both it came, More fleeting than the beauty of a flame: Now each within the other's hungering eye Beholds the corse of Joy embalmed lie, And smiles to know his penury the same. There is no sorrow in this love, O Friend, New-sprung from ruin, tho' our lips be sealed By silence and the world's hard fetter. Dear To me your being; yet we know nor fear Of loss nor of possession; here's a shield Shall part us nobly faithful to the end.

The Exile

You too mistook me; for no man is wise Whom Love enclouds. Nor soul-piercing nor keen Your vision, else there never would have been A cause for parting. Love-enwrapped, your eyes Failed in my love Love's self to recognise: You saw its outer garment, where the green Of perfect faith was marred by passion's sheen, By outworn patience and desire's disguise. Had you but read me to the inner soul, You would have held me fast. I can forego All that is sought of hand and lip, the whole Of Love's poor joy. But I have need to know That, when the heart fails, I may come and rest My head upon your wide and sheltering breast.

The Scar Indelible

O your voice, your voice in the night! How shall I wipe your voice from the night? Only Hope could wipe it away-- And you have driven Hope away.

O your eyes, your eyes in my sight! How shall I hide your eyes from my sight? Only Joy could hide them away, And you have driven Joy away.

O your name, your name in the light! How shall I thrust your name from the light? Only Love could thrust it away, And you have driven Love away.

Revulsion

My heart is weary of Love and Hate: Too sick of its Love to love you still, Too sick of its Hate to hate you yet-- My heart is weary and would forget.

O give me nothing! 'Tis far too late: Your much were little my thirst to fill, Your little were scorn of Faith so deep-- O give me nothing!--and let me sleep.

The Captive

I want to take my heart away, Break it away from the branch where it clings; I want to quit the barren spray Where now no throstle sings.

The butterflies have long since gone, Gone to the bough where the gay blossoms are; The sinking sun now bears the dawn To other lands afar.

I want to break my heart away, Tear it away from the bough where it grows; O for the light of a free new day, On the hill beyond the snows!

Possession's Anguish

One tree in my garden, one tree Out of all the forests of the world: One little ship afloat upon the sea, One shell beneath the waves, flawless and pearled:

One rose on my bower, one rose For a day to scatter on the grass: One shifting star agleam where the wind blows, One gem upheld, that all may share who pass:

One heart to be ached for, one heart Out of all the bosoms that are here: One fragile hope alive, the starver's part, One joy already faint and pale with fear:

One flame in the darkness, one flame For the night to sever with a breath: One poor faith fettered to a mortal name-- And over all, the beating wings of death....

Treasures of Poverty

I sometimes watch the lips of other women And think of all the kisses they have known; I sometimes touch the hands of other women In wonder at the memoried palms they own....

The kiss upon my brow was sadly given, The hands I held but once were not my own; And yet I would not change what I was given For all the kisses I have never known....

Nor would I change again my heart's white desert; O wondrous are the meetings I have known, And strange the eyes that seek me in the desert, Then smiling vanish to rejoin their own....

Solitude

Now empty lies the house. The languid air Unstirred by voices creeps from room to room; No footstep falls upon the silent stair, All's still and dark. In every nook the tomb Of some thought lies; remembrance everywhere Lingers to seek a joy no longer there; And, as I sit here lonely in the gloom, I ask myself which evil I would choose: Never to have, or else to have, and lose.

The Heart Asleep

Within me now my heart's asleep And none shall wake it more; The silence of all pain is deep Within me. Now my heart's asleep, It dreams of joys it might not keep; And nothing looks before Within me now. My heart's asleep And none shall wake it more.

Adversity

Black winds of the world! There is pity in your breath, Against wild tempest weaponing.

Grey clouds of the sky! You are gentle in your shade, Against night-darkness tempering.

Red wounds of the heart! There is mercy in your blood, Against hope-murder hardening.

Pale swoons of the soul! You are tender in your pangs Against dire death emboldening.

Faces of the Dead

I dreamed that, wandering by a river's bank, I came across a lonely ship that sank In lifeless waters. Day was dim;--in dreams We see nor sun, nor moon; unearthly gleams Of deadened light fall strangely from the sky.-- There were but three that struggled not to die: A man, a woman, and a tender child; He sought to save them both with effort wild And dragged his love to the entangled shore; But down the slimy weeds she slid once more Into the water, and her lover's breast Received her, and together they found rest. The child was saved; my hand towards her hand Outstretched, drew all her sweetness to the land, Where naked, like a lily wet with rain, She sank and loudly wept at her life's gain. Quite small she was, and light; I bore her fast To what seemed home, and there she smiled at last And sat upright within my arms; I found A bright-hued veil wherein to wrap her round, Tissues that far in morning-lands were spun By those who love the flowers and the sun. I laid her softly in a silken bed, Strewed fragrant violets about her head And left her. 'Twas my dream then that I slept. But when at dawn unto her bed I crept, The child was lost. Her pillow was all wet With tears that still flowed on; and faster yet They flowed in quickening rills, until I thought I stood beside a torrent wide that sought An unknown sea. The day was sad, tho' young; Upon a misty branch some bird had sung And left a trembling silence; all around I saw the little daisies on the ground Fast closed, with folded arm-petals in vain Shielding their yellow hearts from the cold rain. --A voice invisible made murmur then: 'Come here and look upon these poor drowned men! The ship was sunk a year ago to-day....' But I stepped back and shuddering turned away, For I had never seen the face of Death. Yet Fear itself soon drew me with quick breath Back to the place, even to the river's brink Where I had seen that lonely vessel sink. And there in waters deep I saw them lie, With hands at rest and eyes that sought the sky: Clear eyes wide open to an unseen day. In wondrous silence motionless they lay, With white lips smiling on their spirit's bliss. 'Is Death but this?' I cried, 'no more but this?' And answer came: 'Among those faces there Are all unknown?' 'Twas then I saw him, fair With perfect peace, my enemy, even he Of all the world who most had tortured me. He lay there, blessed among the blessed, and smiled With eyes more pure than any wakening child. The little waves in passing--like the breeze That stirs the foliage of the unmoved trees-- Played in their hair, and fluttering grasses rose And fell and danced about their mute repose. But I gazed on until I too had drunk Of their lips' joy, until their peace had sunk Into my troubling earth-stirred heart that ached To join them ... and then waked....

The Sleeper

There lay a man on clovered ground Whose life was death, he slept so sound; A child bent low to watch his eyes-- He smiling waked, and saw the skies.

I know a soul now, fast asleep, Whose dreams are sad: I hear him weep; I bend and gaze for pity's sake-- But all in vain; he will not wake.

Stars

O Kings and Queens, that in my happy heart, As in a royal chapel, warm and white, Ensanctuaried are! I come to-night Beneath the moonless sky--this radiant chart Of the unfathomable Heavens where dart Beam-trailing stars--with lamp of love alight Unto your images; my reverent sight Enfolds you, and I bring you each your part Of piety. The Will that guides each star Gave jewels to my hands I might not hold, Whose grace remembered fills my palm. So rest, O Joy-givers! your kingdoms are afar, Yet here I own you, shrined in pearls and gold, The sovereign captives of my loyal breast.

Trelawny's Grave

I know a garden near the gates of Rome Where Life and Death hold hands in silence; here In solemn shade where towering cypress rear Their green eternal, white as wind-led foam Lie scattered stones that shield the final home Of exiles. Fair their bed; by violets dear And swaying roses decked; above them, clear In bluest glory arches Heaven's dome. 'Twas here my heart encountered peace one day Beside an old man's grave that said: If God Condemn you live beyond your friend, this way You too may rest.--The heart is childish; dread Of earth-loss fades before Trelawny dead Close-gathered to his Shelley in the sod.

V.R.I.

JANUARY 22, 1901.

As, in a house where solemn-footed Death Has trodden, all the little children stand Before a silent door, with quickened breath, Holding each other tightly by the hand--

So we, O Mother! at the keyless door Stand gathered, heart-astir with nameless fears: A strength has left the hour; the world before Was warmer; and we face the day with tears.

Lines on a Picture by Mary Gow

O whirling World! I know a corner still Unsoiled by Hate and Strife: Where hushed and gentle is the voice of Life: Where Time--a summer rill Soft-flowing through the grass--in measure slow Sings sweetly as we go. Here is a room wherein the white day gleams: Silence o'er Peace has spread her pearly wings: A smiling woman reads of simple things: A child's blue eyes are blinded by their dreams....

To Serenity

Before a Madonna--by Botticelli.

Thine is the face our driven souls shall wear, O sweet serenity!--No earthly wind Can rend thine azure mantle now, nor tear Those veils that shield the radiant locks they bind.

Thy brow is calm with storm appeased; thy lids Are heavy with the wisdom of all tears: Thy mouth is strong with silence that forbids Weary lament and craven wail of fears.

Within thy guarded bosom now no fire Is ardent; thou hast hidden all thy scars: We too may tread the ashes of desire, And wing our spirits thus to touch the stars.

ELEVEN SONNETS

I

I will not close the door, O Love, on thee, Although I fear thee still. In days of old Thy magic echoes lured me on to be The slave of dreams; but now that I behold The earth again, and that my wings are gone, I will take refuge, simply, on thy breast. No miracle I seek, no rapturous dawn Of an unearthly day; I will but rest My weary eyes, and lay between thy hands These empty fingers that have ceased to clutch At stars. Because my spirit understands Renouncement, thou wilt give, maybe. Not much I ask of thee: I only ask to keep Thee near, O Love! until my heart's asleep.

II

My Friend of Friends! in you my heart's at rest, That wandered homeless as the ocean-wind Hither and thither, seeking still to find Some refuge. As a ship that east and west Roams havenless, and quits each shore distressed, So wandered I, so left each land behind, Bearing my soul as helmsman, sage but blind; And still we journeyed on at Fate's behest. But now I hold my harbour, and the ship Casts anchor here. The unnested winds that blow May reach me still and rock me to and fro. What matter? Here is Peace that bids me slip Closer and closer to the enfolding shore, Lower the sails, and stay for evermore.

III

Are we not happy? though this bond of ours Be strange and out of harmony with life As men accept it, in this world of strife Between the spirit and the flesh?--Dark hours Are in the doom of every love; no flowers Bloom rainless; wind and war and pain are rife Within us all.--Yet we are happy. Wife Or sister, these are earth-words; the soul showers Its gifts of love and seeks no earthly bond. So ask we none but, smiling, soul to soul Stand gathered in Love's very essence, whole And indivisible. These white strong bands Suffice; 'tis but the shell, too frail and fond, That weeps, alas! and wrings her mortal hands.

IV

Farewell! you cannot go from me, my dear, For I have closed you in my inmost heart, Beyond the reach of earthly things that part The loving from the loved. Now far or near Ceases to be; I am where you are; here Or there, no matter. Mild should be the smart Of leave-taking, where nothing stays apart But what is mortal, and where souls are clear. Beloved! I can but lose you earthly-wise; The hunger of the years is stilled; no pain Of solitude can chill my heart again, Possessing you. Therefore with steadfast eyes I say farewell, O brother! nor dare weep My little loss, with all this wealth to keep.

V

I seek to call you near me in the dark And silent prison of my solitude, Where Memory with visions heaven-hued Now mocks the night, and Hope with timid spark Kindles vain torches. Lonely in my ark Of Faith, on battling waves I float, pursued By all those doubting monsters that delude Pain-sunken breasts, and bid the soul embark For perilous despair. I call you near That I may cheat the helmsman of his fear: And yet I know you far, I know you lost To me, on this same ocean tempest-tossed Alone--O you who should my pilot be! You, whom my love could steer through any sea....

VI

When Spring awakens and no Spring is there, None for the heart, it is a joyless thing. Yet Winter softens, and all breezes bring To the hard earth now tidings vague and fair. The lilac buds are swelling, the mild air Tempts forth the green; at dusk the thrushes sing Out in the garden, and their raptures wring The heart whose joy is of the past. I bear Remembrance in me of dear foliage gone, Of wilted heather and of perished flowers. For me not one of Spring's foreshadowed hours Is quick with presages of joy. Alone Who cares to creep? The solitary ways Are primrose-less, and vain the violet days.

VII

If I must live without you, I must learn To love the earth and all that grows once more, With the old good love that satisfied before I saw you smile. Now, let me turn and turn, Your memory covers earth and sky; I yearn For you, and not for Spring; my heart is sore With absence, not with Winter's length. Of yore, When climbing noons began to softly burn, There seemed a tender joy in every bud That swelled and burst, in every little spear That broke the clods; and Spring sang in my blood As in the sap; and all that lived was dear. These treasures now are veiled and strange and far, Whilst I go wandering where your footprints are.

VIII

Beloved! are we not wanderers on a road Unknown, that grope their way among the rocks Together?--Yes, together; for these shocks Our hearts have borne and given, part not, goad Unto no hatred. Though I be your load Of care and you my anguish, something locks Our hands, my brother: Destiny, that mocks Man's thinkings, and here finds a new strange mode Of welding chance-divided loves, a link That's more than human, that is half divine, Since, beggared of you, still I hold you mine Above all bonds. So love me well. We'll drink Of all pure streams together, dear, and break These rocks to sand for one another's sake.

IX

Yes, love me, love me well. You need not fear To hurt me further. Like a careless knight That riding lonely, with averted sight, Has struck a passer unawares, so here Have you struck me amid the branches sere Of this dark forest. If you now alight, Give water to my lips and through the night Keep peril from me, with the morning's clear New dawn I'll rise again, and both will reap The mercy of the wound you dealt. Asleep, Awake, I'll be your shield-bearer, and guard Your steps upon this road so long and hard. Then help us both, for all the love you give But turns to strength whereby we both may live.

X

Dearest of all, and nearest though most far! My spirit follows you across both sea And land; all bounds, all spaces, are to me Erased; my heart upon its winged car Of thought outstrips you; nothing now shall mar My joy in you, O brother!--save that we Are of the earth and ask to touch and see The thing we love upon this yearning star. O world of strange desires! Have not we two Lived to behold each other and to smile? Have our two notes not mingled in one chord? What ails us? Were we joined this earthly while, You would not love me better than you do, Nor in my heart be otherwise adored.

XI

Without, you seem forgotten. Am I sad Or happy? None can tell. The lonely days Recur, and draw me on the beaten ways Of all who strive and toil. The things I had Remain; all daily happenings, good or bad, Fall as they did: success and loss, delays That sweeten victory: the balance sways Unceasingly, makes heavy, or makes glad. And this is life, such as the world demands. Within, 'tis otherwise; for in the far Depths where my soul recoiled sits, there are No echoes of such wisdom; there my hands Are folded, and in yours: I seek your eyes, Your voice, your smile.... Within, 'tis otherwise.

THE OPEN AIR

Sunshine in February

O winter Sun! How beautiful thy beams Upon the chained earth! The snows are melting and the gale Is hushed; thou shinest, soft and pale, O Winter Sun! Upon a world that dreams, And trembles with awakened hopes of birth.

O Joyful Green! 'Mid snowy patches gay Thou peerest, and the sky Shines blue through twigged boughs; each tree Is aching now with thoughts of thee, O Joyful Green! Spring's heart is in the day Though Winter's hands upon night's bosom lie.

_Fairseat._

The Cuckoo

Sing, cuckoo, sing, Dear herald of the Spring! Minstrels in all ages born, Hearing thee on such a morn-- When the cowslips all around Waft their fragrance from the ground, And the blossom of the pear Quivers white in bluest air-- Such as I, in all the ages Thus have covered rapturous pages With thy praise, O loveliest bird Ear of man has ever heard!

Though thy note be one of sadness, Messenger thou art of gladness Only; for thou comest first When the buds their prison burst, When, upon an April day, Earth awakes to cast away What remains of wintry sorrow, And to don for summer's morrow Joyful garb of newest green. Spirit-like thou sing'st, unseen: East and west thy piercing note From the forest seems to float Over plain and over hill, And thy echoing cries instil Hope into each breath that blows. Who that hears thy voice but knows That the joys of June are nearing? See the lilies in the clearing, How they raise their green young bells! Every hasty bud that swells Answers thee in joyfulness; And the winter's long distress, Like a lifted cloud at dawn, Melts and quivers and is gone. Autumn leaves that strew the ways Have outlived their kindly days: Now the sun shall warm the earth: Now all things of tender birth, Newly waked from shielded sleep, Lift their coverlet and peep Gaily at the world.