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Carol and Cadence

New poems: MDCCCCII-MDCCCCVII: By John Payne
Payne, John (1842-1916)

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SONGBIRDS.
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THE BOOK OF DAYS AND NIGHTS.
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THE BOOK OF DAYS AND NIGHTS.
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THE BOOK OF BIRDS.
  
[Ye, that demi-spirits are]
  
THE THRUSH.
  
THE CUCKOO.
  
THE BLACKBIRD.
  
THE NIGHTINGALE.
  
THE LARK.
  
THE HAWFINCH.
  
THE FINCH.
  
THE SWALLOW.
  
THE CUSHAT.
  
THE SEDGE-WARBLER.
  
THE LINNET.
  
WHAT THE WHITETHROAT SANG.
  
THE LORIOT.
  
THE WREN.
  
THE FIELDFARE.
  
THE CROW.
  
THE ROBIN.
  
THE WOODPECKER.
  
BIRDS OF PASSAGE.
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THE BOOK OF BEASTS.
  
THE GROCER'S DOG.
  
THE FISHMONGER'S CAT.
  
THE CARTHORSE.
  
THE ASS.
  
HOUSEHOLD GHOSTS.
  
THE PITY OF IT.
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LONDON VOICES.
  
THE TALE OF TIME.
  
KENSINGTON GARDENS.
  
THE STREETS.
  
WINTER DAWN.
  
SUMMER DAWN.
  
RAIN.
  
LONDON BY NIGHT.
  
VOICES.
  
MAY INTRA MUROS.
  
FOG.
  
MUNDUS SENESCENS.
  
FLOWERS OF NIGHT.
  
THE TELEPHONE HARP.
  
THE BEGGAR.
  
VER IN URBE.
  
ON THE OMNIBUS.
  
THE ALMOND TREE.
  
THE LABURNUM.
  
THE HORSE-CHESTNUT.
  
THE HAWTHORN.
  
SICK LIFE.
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BALLADS AND ROMANCES.
  
THE RIME OF MELISANDE.
  
WANDERERS.
  
NOVEMBER GHOSTS.
  
FLOUTED LOVE.
  
THE DEATH OF HAFIZ.
  
SIR ROSWAL.
  
HER GRAVE.
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THE DEATH OF PAN.
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ANGELS' VISITS.
  
THE WRATH OF VENUS.
  
WIND VOICES.
  
WRECK AND PORT.
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SONNETS.
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MARTYRS OF HISTORY.
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VII. ESAU.
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VIII. HECTOR.
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IX. JULIAN.
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X. CLIVE.
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XI. EDWARD JOHN EYRE.
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XII. TOMAS ZUMALACARREGUI.
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XIII. QUI CARENT VATE SACRO.
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MISCELLANEOUS SONNETS.
  
FRANZ LISZT.
  
MATTHEW ARNOLD.
  
BERKELEY.
  
CHARLES ALLSTON COLLINS.
  
RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON.
  
ST. AMBROSE'S PRAYER.
  
THE DAY'S END.
  
THE INSULTS OF THE VULGAR.
  
SCORN AND SYMPATHY.
  
IN THE CRUCIBLE.
  
THE LATTER DAYS.
  
ULTIMA RATIO.
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TIME AND TIDE.
  
A NEW YEAR'S CHIME.
  
GARDEN DAYS.
  
THE POETS OF THE FRENCH RENAISSANCE.
  
COWPER.
  
ADAM AND EVE.
  
FATUI AMBO.
  
SEX AND SEX.
  
DISEASE AND REMEDY.
  
THIS AND THAT.
  
THE MIGHT-HAVE-BEEN.
  
WHO KNOWS?
  
ON THE BERNINA.
  
AT SILVAPLANA.
  
WILLOW-SONG.
  
COUNTERPARTS.
  
LOVE'S END.
  
WELTSCHMERZ.
  
ALAS!
  
POLARITIES.
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THE MINSTREL'S BOOK.
  
SOLUS IN GREGE.
  
EGOMET.
  
SONG-STRESS.
  
SONG-TIDE.
  
SONGS' END.
  
THE POET'S LOT.
  
NOT ALL IN VAIN.
  
POPULO.
  
QUIA AMORE LANGUEO.
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IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN OF GOLD, THEY THOUGHT.
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FORSITAN.
  
CROSS-PURPOSES.
  
THE LIGHTS OF HEAVEN.
  
MARCH-MUSIC.
  
HORAE.
  
ANIMA CUM ANIMO.
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SONGS OF THE MORROW.
  
INVOCATION.
  
VOX CLAMANTIS.
  
THE SETTING SUN.
  
IN VAIN.
  
ELDORADO.
  
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DE PROFUNDIS.
  
THE TWO GATES.
  
THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD.
  
NATURE AND HER LOVER.
  
KING OF DREAMS.
  
NOX GRAVIDA.
  
RISUS SOLAMEN.
  
YOU AND I.
  
PACEM APPELLANT.
  
THE BREAD OF LIFE.
  
TENEBRÆ.
  
DREAM AND DAWN.
  
ETERNAL QUESTION.
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SAT ME LUSISTIS.
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DIIS VENTURIS.
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SOUL'S TWILIGHT.
  
AN OLD REFRAIN.
  
ON THE BEACH.
  
A LAST TOAST.

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ANGELS' VISITS.

Day drops to night
And a voice in mine ear with the last of the light!
Who else might whisper so soft and clear?
Who else should it be but you, my dear?
A sound of wings,
A sense in my soul of heavenly things,
A waft from the thither side of death;
And the air is full of your balmy breath.
You come once more
To me, my sweet, from the wishless shore:
You have not forgotten, among the blest,
The lover that lay on your living breast.
142

What am I worth
That you still should think of me here on earth,
You that the asphodels pluck in the skies
And drink of the dews of Paradise?
Yet still, my dove,
You stoop to me from your spheres above;
You bring me the honey of highest Heaven
And sing me the songs of the Seraphs Seven.
Where have you been,
Since you leant to me last from the sky serene?
What ways have you wandered in Heaven afar
And what is the news from the latest star?
What worlds are new
In the starry spheres and the bounds of blue?
Is Heaven still deaf to the worldly hum?
Is't not yet time for the Gods to come?
When shall I free,
The heavens with you to wander, be?
When shall I looked on the sorry sun
My last have and you and I be one?
You answer nought;
For the dwellers in Heaven hark not men's thought;
Your speech I catch not; but, oh, your voice!
The sound of it makes my heart rejoice.
Nor what you say
In the tongue of the angels take I may;
I see but the halo your head above,
That thrills my heart with its light of love.
The night wears by;
Alack! The dawn-tide is drawing nigh,
The hour when the roll of the blest they call
And you must be back in the heavenly hall.
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The East grows white;
A spirit-kiss on my lips falls light;
A flutter of wings in the dawning grey;
And nothing is left in the world but Day.
With morning come,
The seraph-voice in my ears is dumb;
The day o'erfloods me with dole and fret:
But all night have I talked with the angels yet.
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