 | Verse in bloom |  |
23
TO ALFRED HAYES
'Tis very sad; for you, my Friend,
Have scarcely time to talk to me,
Though once we often used to wend
Along the lanes of liberty
To watch the peaceful pigeons flow
By airy rivers to the oaks;
But that was when the world could go
By leisures, not by lightning-strokes.
Have scarcely time to talk to me,
Though once we often used to wend
Along the lanes of liberty
To watch the peaceful pigeons flow
By airy rivers to the oaks;
But that was when the world could go
By leisures, not by lightning-strokes.
What tribute we have paid to Time,
In puckers, dreams, perplexities,
Since last we saw a generous lime
Give alms of gold to woodland bees!
Warm in the grass, without a care,
Our hearts unloaded, senses blithe,
We watched the swallow reap the air
Above us with his feathered scythe.
In puckers, dreams, perplexities,
Since last we saw a generous lime
Give alms of gold to woodland bees!
Warm in the grass, without a care,
Our hearts unloaded, senses blithe,
We watched the swallow reap the air
Above us with his feathered scythe.
We gazed across Religion's sky
To many worlds succeeding this,
With lives to live, with deaths to die,
And even then but threatened bliss;
Till, daunted by the very heat
Ourselves had fed, we dropped from pain
And loved an English heaven, sweet
With angels flowering in the lane.
To many worlds succeeding this,
With lives to live, with deaths to die,
And even then but threatened bliss;
24
Ourselves had fed, we dropped from pain
And loved an English heaven, sweet
With angels flowering in the lane.
Do you recall, my more than friend,
My brother almost, what we heard
When there was time for us to spend
In seeking night's delicious bird?
Raptured we stood, as if one breast,
One finer breathing, held the pair
As holy pilgrims near the nest
That Love had built so wisely there.
My brother almost, what we heard
When there was time for us to spend
In seeking night's delicious bird?
Raptured we stood, as if one breast,
One finer breathing, held the pair
As holy pilgrims near the nest
That Love had built so wisely there.
'Tis Memory's bird in Memory's ear
That nowadays must sing his song;
For daylight's work is more severe,
And dark must daylight's work prolong.
Not with the peace we knew of yore
We rise from sleep and front our load;
A wolf (beware!) is at the door,
And others wait along the road.
That nowadays must sing his song;
For daylight's work is more severe,
And dark must daylight's work prolong.
Not with the peace we knew of yore
We rise from sleep and front our load;
A wolf (beware!) is at the door,
And others wait along the road.
Seldom again shall we possess
As country gods the moor and down,
And watch the arrowy streamlet press
His lips against the banks of brown;
For man, by daring to despise
Such riches as he would not count,
Has filled with tears the startled eyes
Of Him that preached upon the Mount.
As country gods the moor and down,
And watch the arrowy streamlet press
His lips against the banks of brown;
For man, by daring to despise
Such riches as he would not count,
Has filled with tears the startled eyes
Of Him that preached upon the Mount.
25
There follow wrongs and agonies
In multitudes that shame the Cross
Established for the death of these
By Love that shone divine in loss;
There follow crippled souls, and hate,
Distorted hearts and bleeding time,
Hypocrisy in robes of state,
And labour blackened to a crime.
In multitudes that shame the Cross
Established for the death of these
By Love that shone divine in loss;
There follow crippled souls, and hate,
Distorted hearts and bleeding time,
Hypocrisy in robes of state,
And labour blackened to a crime.
The Spring is here. We see the Spring
From windows misted by our sighs.
The Summer comes, to add the sting
Of prison while the Summer dies.
How many years have left us since
We bronzed in company, and stood
Beneath the shepherd's hoary quince
(Now dead) near Consolation Wood!
From windows misted by our sighs.
The Summer comes, to add the sting
Of prison while the Summer dies.
How many years have left us since
We bronzed in company, and stood
Beneath the shepherd's hoary quince
(Now dead) near Consolation Wood!
Lift up your head, my Friend, to look
Across the widening gulf to me.
Imagine by the careless brook
The daffodils we used to see.
Although the town will have us stay
To share its follies and unrest,
We keep (thank God!) the windy play
Of cowslips nodding in the breast.
Across the widening gulf to me.
Imagine by the careless brook
The daffodils we used to see.
Although the town will have us stay
To share its follies and unrest,
We keep (thank God!) the windy play
Of cowslips nodding in the breast.
I often think the very flowers
Along the lane we loved to roam
Must wonder in the shine and showers
Why both are kept so fast at home.
What of the lustrous clearings set
Within the hyacinth-haunted wood?
Turn, turn to foolscap! We forget
How many covet us our food.
Along the lane we loved to roam
Must wonder in the shine and showers
Why both are kept so fast at home.
26
Within the hyacinth-haunted wood?
Turn, turn to foolscap! We forget
How many covet us our food.
'Tis very sad. My dearest Friend
Has scarcely time to lift his head;
And yet we often used to wend
Along the fields with blossoms spread,
And watch the peaceful pigeons flow
Down airy rivers to the oaks;
But that was when the world could go
By leisures, not by lightning-strokes.
Has scarcely time to lift his head;
And yet we often used to wend
Along the fields with blossoms spread,
And watch the peaceful pigeons flow
Down airy rivers to the oaks;
But that was when the world could go
By leisures, not by lightning-strokes.
| Verse in bloom | |