 | In memory of W. V.: William Canton |  |
v
I had no human fears;
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of early years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of early years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
This is He
Of Galilee,
Of Nazareth,
The Christ that conquers Death . . .
Talitha cumi! See
The tumult as of some sweet strife
Strained tremulous up—up—
“Give her to drink!” He saith—
Yea, Lord, behold, a cup!
Of Galilee,
Of Nazareth,
The Christ that conquers Death . . .
Talitha cumi! See
The tumult as of some sweet strife
Strained tremulous up—up—
“Give her to drink!” He saith—
Yea, Lord, behold, a cup!
Thy voice is on the rolling air;
I hear thee where the waters run;
Thou standest in the rising sun,
And in the setting thou art fair.
Far off thou art, but ever nigh;
I have thee still, and I rejoice.
I hear thee where the waters run;
Thou standest in the rising sun,
And in the setting thou art fair.
Far off thou art, but ever nigh;
I have thee still, and I rejoice.
163
Our Poems
164
THE RING-FENCE
Oh, happy garden trees,
By dim degrees
Your subtle branches, muffling me about,
Shut all my neighbours out!
By dim degrees
Your subtle branches, muffling me about,
Shut all my neighbours out!
Not that I love them less, but they
Being fenced away,
'Tis sweet to feel in oh! how small a round
May peace and joy abound.
Being fenced away,
'Tis sweet to feel in oh! how small a round
May peace and joy abound.
165
HOME
East or West, at home is best!
Let the norland blizzard blow
From the icy mountain crest,
While I wade through drifts of snow,
Let the norland blizzard blow
From the icy mountain crest,
While I wade through drifts of snow,
Smoke I'd see—blue smoke alone—
From my own chimney gladlier than
Cheeriest fire on the hearthstone
Of another and better man.
From my own chimney gladlier than
Cheeriest fire on the hearthstone
Of another and better man.
166
THE MIRACULOUS
I left her in the dark to find
Her own way home; she had no fear.
I followed noiselessly behind;
She never dreamed that I was near.
Her own way home; she had no fear.
I followed noiselessly behind;
She never dreamed that I was near.
I let her have her childish will;
But had she cried, why in a wink!—
That would have seemed a miracle.
So in our little life, I think.
But had she cried, why in a wink!—
That would have seemed a miracle.
So in our little life, I think.
167
BEDTIME
She kneels and folds her baby hands,
And gaily babbling lisps her prayer.
What if she laughs? God understands
The joyous heart that knows no care.
And gaily babbling lisps her prayer.
What if she laughs? God understands
The joyous heart that knows no care.
Her prayer is like a new-fledged bird
That cannot flutter to its tree;
But God will lift it, having heard,
Up to the nest where it would be.
That cannot flutter to its tree;
But God will lift it, having heard,
Up to the nest where it would be.
168
SANTA CLAUS
Wee Flaxen-poll and Golden-head,
They both are sleeping, rosy-red;
And loving hands that make no noise
Have filled each stocking full of toys.
They both are sleeping, rosy-red;
And loving hands that make no noise
Have filled each stocking full of toys.
Oh, think!—unslumbering and forlorn,
Perchance one little Babe new-born
Lies wondering that we never saw
Him too, in spirit, in the straw.
Perchance one little Babe new-born
Lies wondering that we never saw
Him too, in spirit, in the straw.
170
IN THE STORM
Thro' half the wild March night the sleet
Against the shuddering windows beat.
“Pity,” a small voice prayed, “dear God,
Our blackbird in the ivy-tod!”
Against the shuddering windows beat.
“Pity,” a small voice prayed, “dear God,
Our blackbird in the ivy-tod!”
The blackbird, darkling in her nest,
Felt five green eggs beneath her breast,
And knew no cold: through all the storm
Five coals of mothering kept her warm.
Felt five green eggs beneath her breast,
And knew no cold: through all the storm
Five coals of mothering kept her warm.
171
ALMOND BLOSSOM
Among the snow-flakes, whirling white,
I saw a vision of delight—
All clotted by the wintry shower,
An almond-tree laughed out in flower!
I saw a vision of delight—
All clotted by the wintry shower,
An almond-tree laughed out in flower!
Blow, wintry years, I shall not care,
If I the almond's joy may share,
And break in bloom at heart, although
My aged head be white with snow!
If I the almond's joy may share,
And break in bloom at heart, although
My aged head be white with snow!
172
MY FRIEND
I saw a little raindrop
Upon a grassy blade;
I touched it not, but in my heart
A home for it I made.
Upon a grassy blade;
I touched it not, but in my heart
A home for it I made.
For mirrored in the raindrop
I saw the skies descend;
And Heaven was there. So in my heart
It came to be my friend.
I saw the skies descend;
And Heaven was there. So in my heart
It came to be my friend.
173
GARDEN-FIRES
What though the snow gleams on the hill!
The sweet west wind blows fresh and clear;
The world feels new.
Tree-tops are full of heavenly blue;
The hollyhock and daffodil
Are shooting leaf and spear;
The rosebush starts from sleep.
And, redding plots and walks,
The gardener rakes into a fiery heap
The dead year's withered leaves and shrivelled stalks.
The sweet west wind blows fresh and clear;
The world feels new.
Tree-tops are full of heavenly blue;
The hollyhock and daffodil
Are shooting leaf and spear;
The rosebush starts from sleep.
And, redding plots and walks,
The gardener rakes into a fiery heap
The dead year's withered leaves and shrivelled stalks.
Blow, wind of heaven, and make me whole!
Oh, blue of heaven, fill full my soul!
And, while the new-born flower springs,
I too will burn all dead and worthless things.
Oh, blue of heaven, fill full my soul!
And, while the new-born flower springs,
I too will burn all dead and worthless things.
174
APRIL SONG—I.
Little Boy Blue, come blow, come blow
Through wood and field your magic horn!
The almond blossom is chilled with snow,
The green bud seared on hazel and thorn.
Through wood and field your magic horn!
The almond blossom is chilled with snow,
The green bud seared on hazel and thorn.
We want to see the spring clouds go
Like lambs through sunny fields of morn;
So wake, you Little Boy Blue, and blow
Through wood and field your April horn!
Like lambs through sunny fields of morn;
So wake, you Little Boy Blue, and blow
Through wood and field your April horn!
175
APRIL SONG—II.
How glad I shall be
When summer comes round—
The leaf on the tree,
The flower on the ground;
When summer comes round—
The leaf on the tree,
The flower on the ground;
A welkin of glass,
A wind from the west,
A nest in the grass,
And eggs in the nest;
A wind from the west,
A nest in the grass,
And eggs in the nest;
Lambs leaping for joy,
My boy in his pram,
My big baby boy,
Half wild for a lamb!
My boy in his pram,
My big baby boy,
Half wild for a lamb!
The snow's on the ground,
No leaf's on the tree;
When summer comes round
How glad shall I be!
No leaf's on the tree;
When summer comes round
How glad shall I be!
176
IN THE WOODLANDS
In the forest lawns I see
Little ring-plots fenced around,
So that shrub and sapling tree
Thrive in safe and happy ground;
Little ring-plots fenced around,
So that shrub and sapling tree
Thrive in safe and happy ground;
And I wonder, Cannot I
Keep some little place apart,
Open to the wind and sky,
For the growing of my heart?
Keep some little place apart,
Open to the wind and sky,
For the growing of my heart?
177
MARTIN-TIDE
When morning rain has washed with sheen
Each blade and flower, and made them sweet,
And twinkling trees stand wet and green,
And rain-pools sparkle in the street,
Oh, then beside some lakelet filled
With quivering shapes of mirrored leaves,
The martin gathers mud to build
His hanging nest beneath the eaves.
Each blade and flower, and made them sweet,
And twinkling trees stand wet and green,
And rain-pools sparkle in the street,
Oh, then beside some lakelet filled
With quivering shapes of mirrored leaves,
The martin gathers mud to build
His hanging nest beneath the eaves.
Then, in a little, you shall hear,
Awaking at the break of light,
Low twitterings, very soft and clear,
For joy of five pure eggs of white;
And so take heart for the new day
That oh, such little things suffice—
Eggs, raindrops, particles of clay—
To make a bower of paradise.
Awaking at the break of light,
Low twitterings, very soft and clear,
For joy of five pure eggs of white;
And so take heart for the new day
That oh, such little things suffice—
Eggs, raindrops, particles of clay—
To make a bower of paradise.
178
MAY-MORNING RAIN
Oh sweet, oh sweet, oh sweet the Spring,
When angels make the world anew,
And gladness gleams from everything
Between the living green and blue;
When angels make the world anew,
And gladness gleams from everything
Between the living green and blue;
And airs that breathed in Paradise
Blow draughts of life through shower and shine,
And the five gifts of sense suffice
To make mere consciousness divine!
Blow draughts of life through shower and shine,
And the five gifts of sense suffice
To make mere consciousness divine!
Oh, fresh on leaf and blossom-flake
The rain of early morning glints;
It lies about in little lakes,
It fills the ruts and horseshoe prints;
The rain of early morning glints;
It lies about in little lakes,
It fills the ruts and horseshoe prints;
179
With leaf and bloom its depths are lit—
How magically deep they seem!
A flock goes by: far down in it
Glide sheep and lambs as in a dream.
How magically deep they seem!
A flock goes by: far down in it
Glide sheep and lambs as in a dream.
A sparrow comes, and bathes and drinks;
Wildly he flounces in his joy,
Breaks the clear glass, and little thinks
What fairy scenes his freaks destroy.
Wildly he flounces in his joy,
Breaks the clear glass, and little thinks
What fairy scenes his freaks destroy.
Yet who'd begrudge him? Off he flies!
And once again, most beautiful,
Leaf, blossom, clouds, and sunny skies
Are pictured in the little pool;
And once again, most beautiful,
Leaf, blossom, clouds, and sunny skies
Are pictured in the little pool;
And, wandering in some fairy deep
Where grass is sweet and sweet the air,
As Winnie knows, the herd and sheep
And bleating lambs are also there.
Where grass is sweet and sweet the air,
As Winnie knows, the herd and sheep
And bleating lambs are also there.
180
FELLOW-FEELING
Poor little soul! We kissed the place
To make the smarting forehead whole,
Then dried the May and April face,
Saying, Poor little soul!
To make the smarting forehead whole,
Then dried the May and April face,
Saying, Poor little soul!
So soothed, he felt within him stir
Some pity for his mate in woe,
And went and kissed the baluster,
Sighing, Poor itty so'!
Some pity for his mate in woe,
And went and kissed the baluster,
Sighing, Poor itty so'!
181
IN THE UNDERWOOD
“I fought you was quite gone away!”
He said, with blue eyes big with tears;
Then hugged and kissed my hands. I'll play
No more upon his childish fears.
He said, with blue eyes big with tears;
Then hugged and kissed my hands. I'll play
No more upon his childish fears.
For, as he frolicked through the wood,
I watched from leafy lurking-place,
And saw how, missing me, he stood
With startled eyes and working face.
I watched from leafy lurking-place,
And saw how, missing me, he stood
With startled eyes and working face.
And thought how soon the day will come,
When shadowed by the cypress-tree
I shall be very cold and dumb,
And he bereft of power to see.
When shadowed by the cypress-tree
I shall be very cold and dumb,
And he bereft of power to see.
And I, too stark to breathe or move,
Shall watch his piteous dismay,
And hear his sob of frightened love—
“Pappa!” grow faint and die away!
Shall watch his piteous dismay,
And hear his sob of frightened love—
“Pappa!” grow faint and die away!
182
FROM FLOWER TO FLOWER
When morning comes with golden air,
Before the garden shadows wane,
Her tenderness delights to bear
From flower to flower the gift of rain.
Before the garden shadows wane,
Her tenderness delights to bear
From flower to flower the gift of rain.
And God, who gives in gracious wise,
Her own sweet gift on her bestows;
Joy flowers, like speedwells, in her eyes,
And in her heart love, like a rose.
Her own sweet gift on her bestows;
Joy flowers, like speedwells, in her eyes,
And in her heart love, like a rose.
183
THE ANGLER
On pool and pinewood, clearly grey,
The twilight deepened, hushed and cool;
The trout swam high in languid play;
Ring-ripples stirred the darkening pool.
The twilight deepened, hushed and cool;
The trout swam high in languid play;
Ring-ripples stirred the darkening pool.
And as I watched in pleased content,
Dim memories of bygone things
Rose softly, and through my spirit sent
A glimmering joy in trembling rings.
Dim memories of bygone things
Rose softly, and through my spirit sent
A glimmering joy in trembling rings.
184
THE WATER-OUSEL
Beneath the brook, with folded wings
The Ousel walks; and one may hear,
In happy hour, the song he sings,
Submerged, yet elfin-sweet and clear.
The Ousel walks; and one may hear,
In happy hour, the song he sings,
Submerged, yet elfin-sweet and clear.
Dear child, I see in those fresh eyes
Far down, drawn deep from troublous things,
Your spirit walking, ousel-wise,
In dreamy song with folded wings.
Far down, drawn deep from troublous things,
Your spirit walking, ousel-wise,
In dreamy song with folded wings.
185
RED-CAP CHERRIES
Red-cap Cherries, hanging high
In the azure and the sun,
Cuckoo now has ceased his cry—
Now his summer song is done.
In the azure and the sun,
Cuckoo now has ceased his cry—
Now his summer song is done.
He with cherries plumped his crop
Three times—so he calls no more.
We'll be dumb too, if you'll drop,
Filling thrice our pinafore.
Three times—so he calls no more.
We'll be dumb too, if you'll drop,
Filling thrice our pinafore.
186
A CHILD'S SONG
The little white clouds are playing to-day,
Playing to-day, playing to-day;
They call to the flowers, Come out and play,
Come out and play!
Playing to-day, playing to-day;
They call to the flowers, Come out and play,
Come out and play!
Come out and play, for the sun is rolled,
Sun is rolled, sun is rolled,
Thro' meadows of blue, like a ball of gold,
A ball of gold.
Sun is rolled, sun is rolled,
Thro' meadows of blue, like a ball of gold,
A ball of gold.
The flowers reply, We see you on high,
See you on high, see you on high,
We flutter our leaves, and long to fly,
And long to fly.
See you on high, see you on high,
We flutter our leaves, and long to fly,
And long to fly.
We dance in the breeze, pirouette and sway,
'ouette and sway, 'ouette and sway,
Pretending we're clouds, and with you at play,
With you at play!
'ouette and sway, 'ouette and sway,
Pretending we're clouds, and with you at play,
With you at play!
187
TO WINIFRED
When I am dead,
And you are old,
You'll sit as we are sitting now,
Close to the fire, hearing the wind blow cold;
And you will stroke a golden head,
And, suddenly, remembering how
I fondled yours, become at last aware
How dear to me was every single hair.
And you are old,
You'll sit as we are sitting now,
Close to the fire, hearing the wind blow cold;
And you will stroke a golden head,
And, suddenly, remembering how
I fondled yours, become at last aware
How dear to me was every single hair.
When I am dead,
And you are old,
You'll clasp in yours a little hand—
A nestling hand, sweet as a flower to hold—
The pretty fingers you will spread,
And kissing them will understand
How kissing yours, I found therein a joy
Beyond the world's to give, or to destroy.
And you are old,
You'll clasp in yours a little hand—
A nestling hand, sweet as a flower to hold—
The pretty fingers you will spread,
And kissing them will understand
How kissing yours, I found therein a joy
Beyond the world's to give, or to destroy.
188
THE LOOK
Beside the fire he sits between my feet,
And, snuggling, feels how winter can be sweet.
Then leaning back—such love in his clear eyes!—
“You look at me a little bit!” he cries.
“I have been looking, dear!” “You look again!”
And, snuggling, feels how winter can be sweet.
Then leaning back—such love in his clear eyes!—
“You look at me a little bit!” he cries.
“I have been looking, dear!” “You look again!”
O least importunate of tiny men,
Have eyes such power? Can such a trifling thing
So lift up your fond heart upon the wing?
Yet I that know Whose eyes upon me brood
Have never felt this child's beatitude.
Have eyes such power? Can such a trifling thing
So lift up your fond heart upon the wing?
Yet I that know Whose eyes upon me brood
Have never felt this child's beatitude.
189
THE CALL
I walked with one whose child had lately died.
We passed the little folk i' the street at play,
When suddenly a clear voice “Father!” cried;
The man turned quick and glad; sighed; moved away.
We passed the little folk i' the street at play,
When suddenly a clear voice “Father!” cried;
The man turned quick and glad; sighed; moved away.
I spoke not, but 'twas given me to discern
The love that watches through th' eternal years;
God surely so must start and quickly turn
Whene'er the cry of “Father!” strikes His ears.
The love that watches through th' eternal years;
God surely so must start and quickly turn
Whene'er the cry of “Father!” strikes His ears.
190
THE MANTELPIECE
The polished oaken lintel showed
Dusk forest, and a winding road.
The grain o' the oak-heart only? Nay,
We trod that road but yesterday.
Through hushed and haunted trees it wound,
To wishing-wells and faerie-ground.
Dusk forest, and a winding road.
The grain o' the oak-heart only? Nay,
We trod that road but yesterday.
Through hushed and haunted trees it wound,
To wishing-wells and faerie-ground.
The elfin horns blew crystal-clear!
No more we two those horns shall hear.
Her sprightly feet are lapped in clay—
Joy's very feet! O Yesterday!
Beloved playmate, are you dead?
Winifred! Winifred!
No more we two those horns shall hear.
Her sprightly feet are lapped in clay—
Joy's very feet! O Yesterday!
Beloved playmate, are you dead?
Winifred! Winifred!
191
THE WELLS OF ELIM
Elim, Elim! Through the sand and heat
I toil with heart uplifted, I toil with bleeding feet,
For Elim, Elim! at the last, I know
That I shall see the palm-trees, and hear the waters flow.
I toil with heart uplifted, I toil with bleeding feet,
For Elim, Elim! at the last, I know
That I shall see the palm-trees, and hear the waters flow.
Elim, Elim! Grows not here a tree,
And all the springs are Marah, and bitter thirst to me;
But Elim, Elim! in thy shady glen
Are twelve sweet wells of water, and palms threescore and ten.
And all the springs are Marah, and bitter thirst to me;
But Elim, Elim! in thy shady glen
Are twelve sweet wells of water, and palms threescore and ten.
Elim, Elim! though the way be long,
Unmurmuring I shall journey, and lift my heart in song;
And Elim, Elim! all my song shall tell
Of rest beneath the palm-tree, and joy beside the well.
Unmurmuring I shall journey, and lift my heart in song;
And Elim, Elim! all my song shall tell
Of rest beneath the palm-tree, and joy beside the well.
192
GLOAMING
The green sky!
The far hills!
My heart fills;
I sigh—sigh!
The far hills!
My heart fills;
I sigh—sigh!
Spirits blest
Surely lie
In green sky
In God's rest.
Surely lie
In green sky
In God's rest.
My heart fills;
I sigh—sigh.
The green sky!
The far hills!
I sigh—sigh.
The green sky!
The far hills!
| In memory of W. V.: William Canton | |