 | The Autumn Garden |  |
47
Sonnets
49
Ships on the Sea
Far down the dim horizon of my soul
White are the sails of friends beloved and lost;
Great ships that in mid-sea my pinnace crost,
That hailed it cheerly o'er the long waves' roll.
White are the sails of friends beloved and lost;
Great ships that in mid-sea my pinnace crost,
That hailed it cheerly o'er the long waves' roll.
All, all have reached their harbour and their goal;
I still ride out the storm-wind and the frost;
By futile hopes and wavering passions tost,
I miss their broader sway and strong control.
I still ride out the storm-wind and the frost;
By futile hopes and wavering passions tost,
I miss their broader sway and strong control.
But not in vain beneath their lofty shade
I danced awhile, frail plaything of the seas;
Unfit to brave the ampler main with these;
Yet, by the instinct which their souls obeyed,
Less stedfast, o'er the trackless wave I strayed,
And follow still their vanishing trestle-trees.
I danced awhile, frail plaything of the seas;
Unfit to brave the ampler main with these;
Yet, by the instinct which their souls obeyed,
Less stedfast, o'er the trackless wave I strayed,
And follow still their vanishing trestle-trees.
50
R. B.
His soul went singing like a mountaineer
Who climbs the hills, and carols as he climbs;
Above the snows he heard the faëry chimes
Of God's faint bells, and felt no shade of fear.
Who climbs the hills, and carols as he climbs;
Above the snows he heard the faëry chimes
Of God's faint bells, and felt no shade of fear.
He leaped in faith from year to glimmering year;
Nothing to him seemed poor or vile or vain,
Since all the fibres of his heart and brain
Were braced by hope's high alpine atmosphere.
Nothing to him seemed poor or vile or vain,
Since all the fibres of his heart and brain
Were braced by hope's high alpine atmosphere.
I have known no goodlier spirit! Where he walked,
Love masqueraded in rough skins and claws,
Feigning to be some monster of the woods;
Love masqueraded in rough skins and claws,
Feigning to be some monster of the woods;
Loud was the voice wherewith he rhymed and talked,
But warmer heart, or moved in kindlier cause,
Was never stirred by man's vicissitudes.
But warmer heart, or moved in kindlier cause,
Was never stirred by man's vicissitudes.
51
J. A. S.
Thou, who, in thine own bitter words, did'st keep
A burning heart amid the eternal snows,—
Say, whether in the garth of death there grows
A herb to staunch thy grief and yield thee sleep.
A burning heart amid the eternal snows,—
Say, whether in the garth of death there grows
A herb to staunch thy grief and yield thee sleep.
Breathe gentlier, gentlier there! oh slumber deep!
No more the fangs of fruitless longing close
Fast in that flesh from which the life-blood flows,
Back from that brow the clouds of torture sweep.
No more the fangs of fruitless longing close
Fast in that flesh from which the life-blood flows,
Back from that brow the clouds of torture sweep.
Beyond the lot of man thou sufferedst pain;
But thy great spirit, through the winnowing fire,
Like noblest metal from a raging pyre,
But thy great spirit, through the winnowing fire,
Like noblest metal from a raging pyre,
Ran, liquid light, a stream of sparkling rain,
Indomitably daring, gold of brain
Fused from the ore of torments gross and dire.
Indomitably daring, gold of brain
Fused from the ore of torments gross and dire.
52
R. L. S.
Rest, oh thou restless angel, rest at last,
High on thy mountain peak that caps the waves;
Anguish no more thy delicate soul enslaves,
Dream-clouds no more thy slumber overcast.
High on thy mountain peak that caps the waves;
Anguish no more thy delicate soul enslaves,
Dream-clouds no more thy slumber overcast.
Adventurous angel, fold thy wings! the vast
Pacific forest, with its architraves,
The stillness of its long liana'd naves,
Involves thee in a silence of times past.
Pacific forest, with its architraves,
The stillness of its long liana'd naves,
Involves thee in a silence of times past.
Thou whom we loved, a child of sportive whim,
So fair to play with, comfort, thrill or chide,
Art grown as ancient as thine island gods,
So fair to play with, comfort, thrill or chide,
Art grown as ancient as thine island gods,
As mystic as the menacing seraphim,
As grim as priests upon a red hill-side,
Or lictors shouldering high their sheaves of rods.
As grim as priests upon a red hill-side,
Or lictors shouldering high their sheaves of rods.
53
The Votive Tree
Sprawled on the harsh sea-sand, Lentinus found
A rough wild olive, on whose branches grew
Strange foliage—wind-dried garments not a few,
Festoons of seaweed, battered medals bound
A rough wild olive, on whose branches grew
Strange foliage—wind-dried garments not a few,
Festoons of seaweed, battered medals bound
Like fruits, and tinkling with a shaken sound,—
Things ragged, mean, deplorable to view;
But he was moved and gladdened, for he knew
The pious token and the prayer profound.
Things ragged, mean, deplorable to view;
But he was moved and gladdened, for he knew
The pious token and the prayer profound.
These were the gifts of sailors, who had felt
Death, in a dream, like cold wind thro' their hair,
And, wakening, found the horror ebbed away;
Death, in a dream, like cold wind thro' their hair,
And, wakening, found the horror ebbed away;
So that beneath that tree Lentinus knelt,
As at a chapel entered unaware,
And blessed the gods whom storms and seas obey.
As at a chapel entered unaware,
And blessed the gods whom storms and seas obey.
54
The Rhododendron
Love clasps his arms around the awakening bride,
Till from the sullen foliage of her heart
Passion and thought and hope impulsive start:
So April, down this rolling garden-side,
Till from the sullen foliage of her heart
Passion and thought and hope impulsive start:
So April, down this rolling garden-side,
Wakes blossom on the rhododendron's crest,—
Volcanic crimson from a burning world,
Fire, buried and lost, in maiden foliage furled,
Now blazoned to the waters and the West.
Volcanic crimson from a burning world,
Fire, buried and lost, in maiden foliage furled,
Now blazoned to the waters and the West.
For, all the smouldering embers of her soul
Lay hidden in glossy darkness with no sign,
Till Love, onrushing like a storm unseal'd,
Lay hidden in glossy darkness with no sign,
Till Love, onrushing like a storm unseal'd,
Scatter'd the bud-sheaths, and the glowing coal,
In flames like petals, with a scent of wine,
Leapt furious, and the Woman smiled, reveal'd.
In flames like petals, with a scent of wine,
Leapt furious, and the Woman smiled, reveal'd.
Mountstewart, April 14, 1906.
55
The Tyrant Dream
This living world seems dazed and submarine,
Drenched in the lunar splendour of the night,
And, like owls' golden eyes, are sparkling bright
Stars thro' the beechen boughs that intervene;
Drenched in the lunar splendour of the night,
And, like owls' golden eyes, are sparkling bright
Stars thro' the beechen boughs that intervene;
And down this vitreous wilderness of green
Thy pale fantastic shade, O false delight,
Importunately challenges the flight
Of feebler fancies, cool and mild and mean.
Thy pale fantastic shade, O false delight,
Importunately challenges the flight
Of feebler fancies, cool and mild and mean.
Dream, I forbade thy presence here with me!
Hot shade, I drave thee from my paradise!
Delight, thou shouldst enslave my heart no more!
Hot shade, I drave thee from my paradise!
Delight, thou shouldst enslave my heart no more!
But, in this glassy night of reverie,
Thou hast rent the daylight artifice of lies!
Tyrannic dream, entrance me as before.
Thou hast rent the daylight artifice of lies!
Tyrannic dream, entrance me as before.
56
Melancholy in the Garden
I
The winds that dash these August dahlias down,
And chase the streams of light across the grass,
This solemn watery air, like clouded glass,
This perfume on the terrace bare and brown,
And chase the streams of light across the grass,
This solemn watery air, like clouded glass,
This perfume on the terrace bare and brown,
Are like the soundless flush of full renown
That gathers with the gathering years that pass,
And weaves for happy, glorious life, alas!
Of sorrow and of solitude a crown.
That gathers with the gathering years that pass,
And weaves for happy, glorious life, alas!
Of sorrow and of solitude a crown.
I know not what this load is on my heart,
But in these alleys I have loved so long,
Filled from old years with retrospect and song,
But in these alleys I have loved so long,
Filled from old years with retrospect and song,
I wander aimless, ready to depart,
Prepared to welcome, with no frightened start,
The fatal spectre and the shrouded throng.
Prepared to welcome, with no frightened start,
The fatal spectre and the shrouded throng.
57
II
“Nature hath spent at last her shining store,
And I have lived my day,” the painter said,
Who felt the arrowy throe, the dizzied head,
And laid his palette down for evermore.
And I have lived my day,” the painter said,
Who felt the arrowy throe, the dizzied head,
And laid his palette down for evermore.
Well had he learned the melancholy lore
That trains the rose, without a murmur made,
To break the clusters of her royal red,
And strew her beauty on the windy shore.
That trains the rose, without a murmur made,
To break the clusters of her royal red,
And strew her beauty on the windy shore.
Some warning, surely, must I read to-night,
In flower and tree, in flying light and cloud;
It is the voice of Death, not near, nor loud,
In flower and tree, in flying light and cloud;
It is the voice of Death, not near, nor loud,
But whispering from some cypress out of sight,
That bids me hearken for the feathery flight,
And draw my robes across my shoulders bowed.
That bids me hearken for the feathery flight,
And draw my robes across my shoulders bowed.
58
A Parallel
To R. R.
O'er many a wish frustrated, purpose foiled,
Still dost thou weep, discouraged Soul of Man?
Be comforted, since even Nature can
Too rarely triumph fully where she toiled;
Still dost thou weep, discouraged Soul of Man?
Be comforted, since even Nature can
Too rarely triumph fully where she toiled;
Behold the tree, the flower, the cloud despoiled
Of beauty, which was virtue in her plan;
A thousand times her purposes out-ran
Their issues, maimed and crippled, bent and soiled.
Of beauty, which was virtue in her plan;
A thousand times her purposes out-ran
Their issues, maimed and crippled, bent and soiled.
If many evenings close in faintest gray
Before one glorious sunset crowns the day,
If, for one oak, a myriad acorns rot,
Before one glorious sunset crowns the day,
If, for one oak, a myriad acorns rot,
If Nature fails a thousand times ere one
Clear master-stroke of beauty fronts the sun,
Man's frequent frailty may deject him not.
Clear master-stroke of beauty fronts the sun,
Man's frequent frailty may deject him not.
59
Social Revolution
To A. C. B.
Heroic counsel shook our hearts to-day,
Where new-mown grass perfumed your hedgerow-dell;
Blue lights across your mangold-wurzel fell,
And Ely shone, a phantom far away.
Where new-mown grass perfumed your hedgerow-dell;
Blue lights across your mangold-wurzel fell,
And Ely shone, a phantom far away.
We spoke of coming claims for social sway,
Of rising horde and shattered citadel,
And one thought all things surely must be well,
And one had little faith, and murmured “Nay!”
Of rising horde and shattered citadel,
And one thought all things surely must be well,
And one had little faith, and murmured “Nay!”
Then, in the primrose sunset of July,
Homeward along the Hinton fields we came,
And each to other questioning made reply
Homeward along the Hinton fields we came,
And each to other questioning made reply
That man and God and nation were the same,
When fen-pools mirrored that far minster-flame,—
And would be, while men toil beneath the sky.
When fen-pools mirrored that far minster-flame,—
And would be, while men toil beneath the sky.
60
Labour and Love
To M. B.
Labour and love! there are no other laws
To rule the liberal action of that soul
Which faith hath set beneath thy brief control,
Or lull the empty fear that racks and gnaws;
To rule the liberal action of that soul
Which faith hath set beneath thy brief control,
Or lull the empty fear that racks and gnaws;
Labour! then, like a rising moon, the cause
Of life shall light thine hour from pole to pole;
Thou shalt taste health of purpose, and the roll
Of simple joys unwind without a pause.
Of life shall light thine hour from pole to pole;
Thou shalt taste health of purpose, and the roll
Of simple joys unwind without a pause.
Love! and thy heart shall cease to question why
Its beating pulse was set to rock and rave;
Find but another heart this side the grave
Its beating pulse was set to rock and rave;
Find but another heart this side the grave
To soothe and cling to,—thou hast life's reply.
Labour and love! then fade without a sigh,
Submerged beneath the inexorable wave.
Labour and love! then fade without a sigh,
Submerged beneath the inexorable wave.
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