The ghost's entry and other poems | ||
41
QUATRAINS
I
FEUDAL TENURE
On an Estate near Edinburgh.
An old estate bestowed on some one dear,(For love, not gold, Love his best boon bestows,)
The deed provided only—year by year—
The tenant should make payment of a rose.
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II
SAINT CECILIA
(For Picture.)
In high cathedral hush, in holy light,Rapt at her organ, Saint Cecilia stands.
Her voice angelic takes its heavenward flight;
Above her soar and sing celestial bands.
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III
AT AN ANCIENT SHRINE
(In Ireland.)
Oh, Mother-Church! Thine earliest Western lightWas kindled here, where yet it burns to-day!—
Blind with excess of seeing, give me, too, sight;
Borne helpless hither, let me walk whole away!
44
IV
APPRECIATION AND VALUE
In Curio's hoard of coins we see how oldCopper, rust-green, outranks new-minted gold.
One keeps the ghost of some lost empire's sway,
One buys the harvest of the world to-day.
45
V
AT BURIAL SERVICE
‘It might have been,’ we sigh, and then we heaveTo its deep grave our coffin silently;
But our dark tears some unknown gleam receive,—
We lift our eyes and say: ‘It still may be.’
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VI
AFTER-WEALTH
Diamonds in tropic river-beds, they say,Are found when the fierce floods are drained away;
So, in our lives, where passion-torrents flow
No more, shine wisdom's precious stones below.
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VII
NEW LIFE
The Night—it passes, like a burdening dream;Quickened, I walk along a happy shore,
While low despairs, like mist upon the stream,
Climb, wondering at the sun, and are no more.
48
VIII
A WHITE LIAR
Beautiful, bright deceiver!On your lips are numberless lies;
But the truths they slay so lightly
Live, above, in their Heaven, your eyes!
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IX
ON LEAVING AN OLD HOUSE
In happy June, though we depart,The rose shall climb for ever thus,
Hiding the bee within its heart,
And in the window look for us.
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X
AT HOME
Far-off the sunset-smitten spiresBreathe through the wood their golden fires;
Hither the noisy city swells
A dreamy tide of vesper bells.
51
XI
A DEDICATION
I give this Book with sacred gratitude,Dear One, to you, so gentle, gracious, good,—
Whose high and delicate genius breathes but part
Of your pure spirit, sweet person, tender heart.
The ghost's entry and other poems | ||