 | Golden Histories, etc |  |
145
ROMANTIC POEMS.
Childhood.
Ah! sweet days of my youth!
Are ye vanish'd for aye?
O Beauty! O Truth!
Did ye die in your May?
Are ye vanish'd for aye?
O Beauty! O Truth!
Did ye die in your May?
I was young, I was young,
When the clouds spake of God,
When the trees as they swung,
Seemed to nod to his nod.
When the clouds spake of God,
When the trees as they swung,
Seemed to nod to his nod.
When the summer shook balm,
From her blue glowing wings,
When the sunsets slept calm,
In their purple, like kings.
From her blue glowing wings,
When the sunsets slept calm,
In their purple, like kings.
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When the rainbow stood up,
Like a thing strangely born,
And I drank of the cup
From the red lips of morn.
Like a thing strangely born,
And I drank of the cup
From the red lips of morn.
I was young, I was young,
When I sung, in the wood,
To the birds, as they sung,
And the world seemed so good.
When I sung, in the wood,
To the birds, as they sung,
And the world seemed so good.
How I laugh'd as I sped
By the river's green marge,
How I lifted my head,
When my heart grew too large!
By the river's green marge,
How I lifted my head,
When my heart grew too large!
How the cuckoo would sing,
As she flew down the breeze,
Mid the odours of spring,
And the rustle of trees.
As she flew down the breeze,
Mid the odours of spring,
And the rustle of trees.
O! phantom-like bird,
Full of love, full of awe,
Whom the ear often heard,
But the eye never saw.
Full of love, full of awe,
Whom the ear often heard,
But the eye never saw.
Then the colours that stray'd,
On the roof, on the wall,
Turn'd the room, where I play'd,
To a magical hall.
On the roof, on the wall,
Turn'd the room, where I play'd,
To a magical hall.
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Then I slept in the grass,
Lull'd in dreams of the skies,
And sweet angels would pass,
Raining light from their eyes.
Lull'd in dreams of the skies,
And sweet angels would pass,
Raining light from their eyes.
Then I call'd, then I cried,
To these sons of the Blest,—
But they smil'd when I sigh'd,
And past on to their rest.
To these sons of the Blest,—
But they smil'd when I sigh'd,
And past on to their rest.
Ah! 't is over; but, still,
When I feel like a child,
From the lake, from the hill,
From the wood and the wild,
When I feel like a child,
From the lake, from the hill,
From the wood and the wild,
From the cloud and the bird,
From the trees and the flowers,
Come the voices I heard,
In the bright morning hours.
From the trees and the flowers,
Come the voices I heard,
In the bright morning hours.
And the birds sing again,
As in childhood they sung,
And in heart and in brain
I am young—I am young.
As in childhood they sung,
And in heart and in brain
I am young—I am young.
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Little Boy Blue.
I.
I lay in the rushes,
Where summer light fell
On the trees and the bushes
That bordered the well.
Where summer light fell
On the trees and the bushes
That bordered the well.
All the flowers were gleaming
In crimson and gold,
And the sunlight lay dreaming
On meadow and wold.
In crimson and gold,
And the sunlight lay dreaming
On meadow and wold.
But the bud and the chalice
Are fading away,
From the roses' red palace
Step Genie and Fay.
Are fading away,
From the roses' red palace
Step Genie and Fay.
Step from golden pavilion
In blossoming bowers,
From hall of vermilion,
The Souls of the flowers.
In blossoming bowers,
From hall of vermilion,
The Souls of the flowers.
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They wreathe their wild dances,
They glide and they spring;
Each recedes, each advances,
They laugh and they sing.
They glide and they spring;
Each recedes, each advances,
They laugh and they sing.
But with blushes and flushes,
One sounds on a horn,
And more green grow the rushes,
More yellow the corn.
One sounds on a horn,
And more green grow the rushes,
More yellow the corn.
But she sees, she befriends him,
She smiles on the boy;
She calls him, she lends him
That delicate toy.
She smiles on the boy;
She calls him, she lends him
That delicate toy.
And the Child loves and praises
Its mystical strain,
And Age feels the daisies
Bloom round him again.
Its mystical strain,
And Age feels the daisies
Bloom round him again.
II.
When the corn-fields and meadows
Are pearl'd with the dew,
With the first sunny shadows
Walks little Boy Blue.
Are pearl'd with the dew,
With the first sunny shadows
Walks little Boy Blue.
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O the Nymphs and the Graces
Still gleam on his eyes,
And the kind fairy faces
Look down from the skies;
Still gleam on his eyes,
And the kind fairy faces
Look down from the skies;
And a secret revealing
Of life within life,
When feeling meets feeling
In musical strife;
Of life within life,
When feeling meets feeling
In musical strife;
A winding and weaving
In flowers and in trees,
A floating and heaving
In sunlight and breeze;
In flowers and in trees,
A floating and heaving
In sunlight and breeze;
And a striving and soaring,
A gladness and grace,
Make him kneel, half adoring
The God in the place.
A gladness and grace,
Make him kneel, half adoring
The God in the place.
Then amid the live shadows
Of lambs at their play,
Where the kine scent the meadows,
With breath like the May,
Of lambs at their play,
Where the kine scent the meadows,
With breath like the May,
He stands in the splendour
That waits on the morn,
And a music more tender
Distils from his horn:
That waits on the morn,
And a music more tender
Distils from his horn:
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And he weeps, he rejoices,
He prays, nor in vain,
For soft loving voices
Will answer again.
He prays, nor in vain,
For soft loving voices
Will answer again.
And the Nymphs and the Graces
Still gleam through the dew,
And kind fairy faces
Watch little Boy Blue.
Still gleam through the dew,
And kind fairy faces
Watch little Boy Blue.
152
The Mill-Stream.
A child looks into the mill-stream,
Where the fish glides in and out,
The dace with the coat of silver,
And the crimson-spotted trout.
Where the fish glides in and out,
The dace with the coat of silver,
And the crimson-spotted trout.
He plays with the diamond waters,
He talks to the droning bees,
He sings, and the birds sing with him.
He runs as to catch the breeze.
He talks to the droning bees,
He sings, and the birds sing with him.
He runs as to catch the breeze.
A perfume from wood and meadow
Is wandering round the boy;
He is twining a garland of lilacs,
And joyous he thinks not of joy.
Is wandering round the boy;
He is twining a garland of lilacs,
And joyous he thinks not of joy.
He prays in the eve and morning,
For the Heaven seems always near,
And he thinks that each childish murmur
Is a charm that the angels hear.
For the Heaven seems always near,
And he thinks that each childish murmur
Is a charm that the angels hear.
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O Life! O beautiful picture!
O light, and perfume, and love!
O the grace of the heart that is tender!
O the dream that can lift us above!
O light, and perfume, and love!
O the grace of the heart that is tender!
O the dream that can lift us above!
O Life! no longer a problem,
But a something to see and enjoy,
A brightness on stream and meadow,
A breeze round a dancing boy.
But a something to see and enjoy,
A brightness on stream and meadow,
A breeze round a dancing boy.
Back, back to the fair blue morning
Of wild Hope and of Fancy wild,
Let me watch the fish in the mill-stream,
With the eyes and the heart of a child.
Of wild Hope and of Fancy wild,
Let me watch the fish in the mill-stream,
With the eyes and the heart of a child.
154
The Two Aprils.
Young April treads light in the woodland,
And smiles through her tears in the lane.
And the sun of the old, old spring-tide
Falls warm on the cheek again.
And smiles through her tears in the lane.
And the sun of the old, old spring-tide
Falls warm on the cheek again.
The breath of the old dead breezes
That blew in the face of the boy,
Floats back from my life's faded meadows,
With whispers of Hope and of Joy.
That blew in the face of the boy,
Floats back from my life's faded meadows,
With whispers of Hope and of Joy.
The larks that I heard in my childhood,
Hid deep in the bending blue,
Sing yet of the same old Heaven,
Till that Heaven comes almost true.
Hid deep in the bending blue,
Sing yet of the same old Heaven,
Till that Heaven comes almost true.
Sing yet of the loving and longing
For the beauty of far-off skies,
Of the pleasures that spring like flowers,
Round the steps of the gentle and wise,
For the beauty of far-off skies,
Of the pleasures that spring like flowers,
Round the steps of the gentle and wise,
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And I wake from my dread despairing,
Like a trembling child at night,
And lo! through the darkness of sorrow,
Hope walks with her calm glad light.
Like a trembling child at night,
And lo! through the darkness of sorrow,
Hope walks with her calm glad light.
And still as she passes by me,
I see my pale dreams revive,
And the joy and the courage of spring-time
Makes the dead, cold heart alive.
I see my pale dreams revive,
And the joy and the courage of spring-time
Makes the dead, cold heart alive.
O world! thou art surely youthful!
But the sapling shall grow a tree,
Thou, too, hast a soft green April
Shall bring the great summer to thee.
But the sapling shall grow a tree,
Thou, too, hast a soft green April
Shall bring the great summer to thee.
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Clouds
Clouds in April, large and white,
Freighted full of silver light,
Sail above the tallest trees,
Run before the chasing breeze,
Roll around the hills that lift
Heaven aloft, or, fierce and swift,
In tumultuous splendour fall
Over the round world's blue wall.
Freighted full of silver light,
Sail above the tallest trees,
Run before the chasing breeze,
Roll around the hills that lift
Heaven aloft, or, fierce and swift,
In tumultuous splendour fall
Over the round world's blue wall.
Clouds in August, when the glow
Of the level sun is low,
Crowd the sky with pomp, and seem
Fragments of some land of dream:
Scarlet, purple, dun, and gold,
Wreath on wreath, and fold on fold;
Hall and castle, dome and bower,
Faëry-built at twilight hour.
Of the level sun is low,
Crowd the sky with pomp, and seem
Fragments of some land of dream:
Scarlet, purple, dun, and gold,
Wreath on wreath, and fold on fold;
Hall and castle, dome and bower,
Faëry-built at twilight hour.
Clouds in Winter, when the West
In soft amber flame is drest,
Float before the frosty breeze—
Silver snow on silent seas;
Or they peep thro' tracery fine,
Windowed boughs of larch or pine,
Like the faces saintly men
Once have seen to see agen.
In soft amber flame is drest,
Float before the frosty breeze—
Silver snow on silent seas;
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Windowed boughs of larch or pine,
Like the faces saintly men
Once have seen to see agen.
Clouds to me, in early Spring
Or in later Winter, bring
Messages of calm delight,
Thoughts of still and central might,
Feelings sweeter than the tears
Lovers weep o'er love's dead years,
Holier than the tidings told
By pale seers to ages old.
Or in later Winter, bring
Messages of calm delight,
Thoughts of still and central might,
Feelings sweeter than the tears
Lovers weep o'er love's dead years,
Holier than the tidings told
By pale seers to ages old.
Then I see lost Eden's streams;
Dream as poet rarely dreams;
Hear enormous trumpets blown,
As when gods are overthrown;
See the far-off sunlit shore,
Where I wandered when of yore
Angels showed me all the shells
Wherein Beauty hides her spells,
While they taught my vernal youth,
Many an old celestial truth.
Dream as poet rarely dreams;
Hear enormous trumpets blown,
As when gods are overthrown;
See the far-off sunlit shore,
Where I wandered when of yore
Angels showed me all the shells
Wherein Beauty hides her spells,
While they taught my vernal youth,
Many an old celestial truth.
Cloudlike, thus on clouds I live,
Gladly take what clouds can give:
Fairy feelings, thoughts like flowers,
In my manhood's mellower hours,
As in those ‘first-violet’ days,
Do they bring for love and praise.
Gladly take what clouds can give:
Fairy feelings, thoughts like flowers,
In my manhood's mellower hours,
As in those ‘first-violet’ days,
Do they bring for love and praise.
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May Song
I
When violet odours warm the air,And May is white in hedge and lea,
Soft yearnings seize me unaware,
And gentle longings wake in me,
And I believe in Fairyland.
II
When sunset triumphs thro' the West,In blue and green and lilac bowers,
I hear the trumpets of the Blest,
Blown from those old forgotten towers,
And I believe in Fairyland.
III
When Summer comes with bloom and leaf,And winks and laughs thro' twinkling trees,
When crimson peach and golden sheaf,
Hang mellowing in the sun and breeze,
Then I believe in Fairyland.
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IV
When kindness almost looks like love,And eyes half show, half veil, their light,
When song and perfume float above,
And casements open on the night,
Then I believe in Fairyland.
160
Summer Days
In summer, when the days were long,
We walked, two friends, in field and wood,
Our heart was light, our step was strong,
And life lay round us, fair as good,
In summer, when the days were long.
We walked, two friends, in field and wood,
Our heart was light, our step was strong,
And life lay round us, fair as good,
In summer, when the days were long.
We strayed from morn till evening came,
We gathered flowers, and wove us crowns,
We walked mid poppies red as flame,
Or sat upon the yellow downs,
And always wished our life the same.
We gathered flowers, and wove us crowns,
We walked mid poppies red as flame,
Or sat upon the yellow downs,
And always wished our life the same.
In summer, when the days were long,
We leapt the hedgerow, crost the brook;
And still her voice flowed forth in song,
Or else she read some graceful book,
In summer, when the days were long.
We leapt the hedgerow, crost the brook;
And still her voice flowed forth in song,
Or else she read some graceful book,
In summer, when the days were long.
And then we sat beneath the trees,
With shadows lessening in the noon;
And in the sunlight and the breeze,
We revell'd, many a glorious June,
While larks were singing o'er the leas.
With shadows lessening in the noon;
And in the sunlight and the breeze,
We revell'd, many a glorious June,
While larks were singing o'er the leas.
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In summer, when the days were long,
We plucked wild strawberries, ripe and red,
Or feasted, with no grace but song,
On golden nectar, snow-white bread,
In summer, when the days were long.
We plucked wild strawberries, ripe and red,
Or feasted, with no grace but song,
On golden nectar, snow-white bread,
In summer, when the days were long.
We loved, and yet we knew it not,
For loving seemed like breathing then,
We found a heaven in every spot,
Saw angels, too, in all good men,
And dreamt of gods in grove and grot.
For loving seemed like breathing then,
We found a heaven in every spot,
Saw angels, too, in all good men,
And dreamt of gods in grove and grot.
In summer, when the days are long,
Alone I wander, muse alone;
I see her not, but that old song,
Under the fragrant wind is blown,
In summer, when the days are long.
Alone I wander, muse alone;
I see her not, but that old song,
Under the fragrant wind is blown,
In summer, when the days are long.
Alone I wander in the wood,
But one fair spirit hears my sighs;
And half I see the crimson hood,
The radiant hair, the calm glad eyes.
That charmed me in life's summer mood.
But one fair spirit hears my sighs;
And half I see the crimson hood,
The radiant hair, the calm glad eyes.
That charmed me in life's summer mood.
In summer, when the days are long,
I love her as I loved of old;
My heart is light, my step is strong,
For love brings back those hours of gold.
In summer, when the days are long.
I love her as I loved of old;
My heart is light, my step is strong,
For love brings back those hours of gold.
In summer, when the days are long.
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A Naiad
In the season of roses, when roses are reddest,
She stood in the stream with her feet silver-white;
O Stream! how thou murmuredst, Stream, how thou fleddest,
When she shook her feet over thee, dropping down light,
In the season of roses, when roses are reddest.
She stood in the stream with her feet silver-white;
O Stream! how thou murmuredst, Stream, how thou fleddest,
When she shook her feet over thee, dropping down light,
In the season of roses, when roses are reddest.
With a sweetness that wooed you she stood in the roses,
With a sweetness that sought you and then would retreat.
Like a rosebud that opens, a rosebud that closes,
And flies thro' all changes of wild and of sweet;
With a sweetness that wooed you she stood in the roses.
With a sweetness that sought you and then would retreat.
Like a rosebud that opens, a rosebud that closes,
And flies thro' all changes of wild and of sweet;
With a sweetness that wooed you she stood in the roses.
She stood in the roses, when roses are reddest,
She raised her white hand to a rose in her hair,
O! the rose would blush red, tho' its leaves were the deadest,
When quickened and brightened by fingers so fair,
In the season of roses, when roses are reddest.
She raised her white hand to a rose in her hair,
O! the rose would blush red, tho' its leaves were the deadest,
When quickened and brightened by fingers so fair,
In the season of roses, when roses are reddest.
163
Ballad
“Have you seen her?” he cried; “Have you seen her?” he cried.
“Yester eve,”
I whispered, “To-morrow, my Alice, my bride,
Must not grieve.”
“Yester eve,”
I whispered, “To-morrow, my Alice, my bride,
Must not grieve.”
“She stood in the cornfield, all sprinkled with dew,
“Twining flowers;
“But they were not so fair as her eyes of deep blue,
“Watch'd for hours.”
“Twining flowers;
“But they were not so fair as her eyes of deep blue,
“Watch'd for hours.”
“I saw in the morning,” a neighbour replied,
“As I past,
“A stranger, who called a fair girl to his side,
“They rode fast;
“As I past,
“A stranger, who called a fair girl to his side,
“They rode fast;
“On their bonnie white steeds, thro' the flowers, thro' the corn.
“Did they ride;
“But they soon won the sea, and their vessel was borne
“O'er the tide.”
“Did they ride;
“But they soon won the sea, and their vessel was borne
“O'er the tide.”
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He sought her in vain—she was gone, she was lost;
But old ways
Led him forth to the fields that the maiden had crost.
Many days.
But old ways
Led him forth to the fields that the maiden had crost.
Many days.
Yet he wept not, but work'd, for the heart of a man
Beat within:
He was strong, he believed “Men should do what they can;
“Grief was sin.”
Beat within:
He was strong, he believed “Men should do what they can;
“Grief was sin.”
He was strong, but the gladness had past from his life;
He was brave,
Yet a sweet-smiling patience, precluding all strife,
Made him grave.
He was brave,
Yet a sweet-smiling patience, precluding all strife,
Made him grave.
Still he thinks of her; still sees her eyes of deep blue,
Thro' long hours;
Still she stands in the cornfield, besprinkled with dew,
Twining flowers.
Thro' long hours;
Still she stands in the cornfield, besprinkled with dew,
Twining flowers.
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Birds
Once in my vernal days I stood.
In the green shadow of a wood,
Beneath the breeze and open sky,
And ever as the evening fell,
More darkly over heath and dell,
Saw the belated birds go by.
In the green shadow of a wood,
Beneath the breeze and open sky,
And ever as the evening fell,
More darkly over heath and dell,
Saw the belated birds go by.
Ah, gentle birds! I said, your nest
Receives you soon to dewy rest;
Oh, fly, kind birds, into my hand!
Some darling bird with light-brown wings,
That solely for one darling sings,
And yet delights the listening land.
Receives you soon to dewy rest;
Oh, fly, kind birds, into my hand!
Some darling bird with light-brown wings,
That solely for one darling sings,
And yet delights the listening land.
Oh, beat within this hand of mine,
Beat on my breast; and feeling thine,
O winged love, I'll rest content:
O wanderer wild, be tame with me,
As I am tame; and I shall be
Most happy and most innocent.
Beat on my breast; and feeling thine,
O winged love, I'll rest content:
O wanderer wild, be tame with me,
As I am tame; and I shall be
Most happy and most innocent.
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So in my vernal days I said,
With lifted hand and straining head,
That looked into the darkening sky.
But never, never bird would come;
Each found a fairer, dearer home,
And ever, ever hurried by.
With lifted hand and straining head,
That looked into the darkening sky.
But never, never bird would come;
Each found a fairer, dearer home,
And ever, ever hurried by.
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Advice
Men should get them brains of steel,
Hearts that not too keenly feel;
Men should learn betimes to bear
Blinding cold and burning air.
Hearts that not too keenly feel;
Men should learn betimes to bear
Blinding cold and burning air.
Men should cast aside their books,
Sun themselves in Nature's looks,
Feel the beating heart of things,
Hunt the rivers to their springs.
Sun themselves in Nature's looks,
Feel the beating heart of things,
Hunt the rivers to their springs.
He that has a great intent,
Must not falter nor repent;
Waves and winds alike shall bless
All his efforts with success.
Must not falter nor repent;
Waves and winds alike shall bless
All his efforts with success.
Crime is folly; all the roads
To the still august abodes
Are with Wisdom; Love and Truth
Are her friends, her playmate Youth.
To the still august abodes
Are with Wisdom; Love and Truth
Are her friends, her playmate Youth.
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Recollections
I leapt from my couch, and went forth with the day;
I challenged the brooks, and raced fleetly as they;
I praised the round sun when I saw him unfold
His banner, embroidered with purple and gold;
I waded for king-cups in grass to my knees,
With garlanded forehead I climbed the tall trees,
And I rock'd when they rock'd, shouting loud to the breeze.
I challenged the brooks, and raced fleetly as they;
I praised the round sun when I saw him unfold
His banner, embroidered with purple and gold;
I waded for king-cups in grass to my knees,
With garlanded forehead I climbed the tall trees,
And I rock'd when they rock'd, shouting loud to the breeze.
I wandered with one whom I loved through a wood,
With her golden hair loosed o'er her little red hood:
Oh! her face, like a rose, was so full and so glad,
And her eyes were the sweetest that face ever had:
Her fingers were playing like flashes of light,
And I caught them, and kiss'd them; but fingers so white,
Blushing red on the lips, must bewilder the sight.
With her golden hair loosed o'er her little red hood:
Oh! her face, like a rose, was so full and so glad,
And her eyes were the sweetest that face ever had:
Her fingers were playing like flashes of light,
And I caught them, and kiss'd them; but fingers so white,
Blushing red on the lips, must bewilder the sight.
I read by the marge of a river that flow'd
Through the wood to the mill on the side of the road;
And I knew that grave men and fair women must pass,
But the boy lay concealed by the trees and the grass;
And still, as I read, I could hear them go by,
I was glad that we all were beneath the same sky,
That they could not behold me and yet were so nigh.
Through the wood to the mill on the side of the road;
And I knew that grave men and fair women must pass,
But the boy lay concealed by the trees and the grass;
And still, as I read, I could hear them go by,
I was glad that we all were beneath the same sky,
That they could not behold me and yet were so nigh.
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I wandered one morning when Summer was young—
I sang like a bird to the birds as they sung.
The large lilac flowers waved princely and proud,
And the larks were all choiring above the grey cloud;
Delicious and wild was the blossomy smell,
And I fancied that angels were singing, as well
As the birds in the clouds, to the birds in the dell.
I sang like a bird to the birds as they sung.
The large lilac flowers waved princely and proud,
And the larks were all choiring above the grey cloud;
Delicious and wild was the blossomy smell,
And I fancied that angels were singing, as well
As the birds in the clouds, to the birds in the dell.
I stood on the rocks, with the stars overhead;
There are stars, there are suns underneath me, I said;
And I thought in a moment the earth rolled away,
But the sky still was there, tho' in shadow it lay.
All the black-blue abysses were swarming with light,
And beneath, as above me, pavilioned in night,
The firmament domed, and I wept at the sight.
There are stars, there are suns underneath me, I said;
And I thought in a moment the earth rolled away,
But the sky still was there, tho' in shadow it lay.
All the black-blue abysses were swarming with light,
And beneath, as above me, pavilioned in night,
The firmament domed, and I wept at the sight.
O beauty and gladness, like sorrow and dread,
Track the children of wisdom, wherever they tread;
And I know that the soul that eternally weaves
The garments of worlds, never fails or deceives.
Still the stars climb and fall, still the provident Hours
Bring the babe to the mother, the bird to the bowers,
Crown the autumn with fruit and the summer with flowers.
Track the children of wisdom, wherever they tread;
And I know that the soul that eternally weaves
The garments of worlds, never fails or deceives.
Still the stars climb and fall, still the provident Hours
Bring the babe to the mother, the bird to the bowers,
Crown the autumn with fruit and the summer with flowers.
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My Playmates
I once had a sister: and, loving as fair,
Her face would look out from its soft sunny hair,
Like a lily some tall stately angel may hold,
Half-revealed, half-concealed, in a mist of pure gold.
Her face would look out from its soft sunny hair,
Like a lily some tall stately angel may hold,
Half-revealed, half-concealed, in a mist of pure gold.
I once had a brother, more blithe than the day,
With a temper as sweet as the blossoms in May,
With dark hair, like a cloud; and a face where one rose,
Royal-red, bloom'd half-hid, by his sister of snows.
With a temper as sweet as the blossoms in May,
With dark hair, like a cloud; and a face where one rose,
Royal-red, bloom'd half-hid, by his sister of snows.
We lived in a cottage that stood in a dell.
Were we born there or brought there? I never could tell.
Were we nursed by the angels or clothed by the fays?
Or who led, when we fled, down the dim woodland-ways!
Were we born there or brought there? I never could tell.
Were we nursed by the angels or clothed by the fays?
Or who led, when we fled, down the dim woodland-ways!
In the morn when we rose we cried, Hark! children, hark!
We shall hear, if we listen, the song of the lark;
And we stood with our faces calm, silent, and bright,
While the breeze, in the trees, held his breath with delight.
We shall hear, if we listen, the song of the lark;
And we stood with our faces calm, silent, and bright,
While the breeze, in the trees, held his breath with delight.
171
Oh, the stream ran with silver, the leaves dropped with dew,
And we looked up and saw the great Sun in the Blue.
And we praised him and blessed him but said not a word,
For we soared, we adored, with that worshipping bird.
And we looked up and saw the great Sun in the Blue.
And we praised him and blessed him but said not a word,
For we soared, we adored, with that worshipping bird.
Then with hand linked in hand, how we laughed, how we sung,
How we danced in a ring, when the morning was young.
How we wandered where king-cups, were crusted with gold,
With the bee on the lea, and the bird o'er the wold!
How we danced in a ring, when the morning was young.
How we wandered where king-cups, were crusted with gold,
With the bee on the lea, and the bird o'er the wold!
Oh, well I remember the flowers which we found,
With the red and white blossoms that damasked the ground,
And the long lanes of light that, half yellow, half green,
Seemed to fade, down the glade, where the fairies had been!
With the red and white blossoms that damasked the ground,
And the long lanes of light that, half yellow, half green,
Seemed to fade, down the glade, where the fairies had been!
Still I hear, as I heard them, still laughing they sing,
Still they mingle their song with the voices of Spring,
Still I see, as I saw it, the flame-coloured West,
And the spire, where a fire, from the sun, seemed to rest.
Still they mingle their song with the voices of Spring,
Still I see, as I saw it, the flame-coloured West,
And the spire, where a fire, from the sun, seemed to rest.
Oh, I'll never believe but the fairies were there,
Such a joy, such a brightness passed into the air.
Such a feeling of loving and longing was ours;
And we saw, with glad awe, little hands in the flowers.
Such a joy, such a brightness passed into the air.
Such a feeling of loving and longing was ours;
And we saw, with glad awe, little hands in the flowers.
Oh, weep ye, and wail! for that sister, alas!
And that fair gentle brother lie low in the grass,
Perchance the red robins may strew them with leaves,
That still sing, in the spring, near the pale-ivied eaves.
And that fair gentle brother lie low in the grass,
Perchance the red robins may strew them with leaves,
That still sing, in the spring, near the pale-ivied eaves.
172
Perchance of their dust the new violets are made,
That bloom by the church that lies hid in the glade;
But one day I shall learn, if I pass where they grow,
For more sweet they will greet their old playmate I know.
That bloom by the church that lies hid in the glade;
But one day I shall learn, if I pass where they grow,
For more sweet they will greet their old playmate I know.
Ah! the Cottage is gone, and no longer I see
The old glade, the old paths, and no lark sings for me;
But I still must believe that the fairies are there,
That the light grows more bright, as they glide thro'the air.
The old glade, the old paths, and no lark sings for me;
But I still must believe that the fairies are there,
That the light grows more bright, as they glide thro'the air.
173
Old Playthings
He wondered that the real sports of childhood should not so
delight him, as the emblems of these sports, when the child that
had carried them on was standing, grown up to manhood, in his
presence.—Carlyle's translation of “Life of Quintus
Fixlein.”
Strange memories haunt me from youth's primrose-ways.
As thus mid Toys in sober years I stand,—
Here is the ball that once, in happier days,
Flew lightly bounding from my lifted hand!
As thus mid Toys in sober years I stand,—
Here is the ball that once, in happier days,
Flew lightly bounding from my lifted hand!
Here is the bat that won in well-thought field,
And here the kite that soared above the cloud,
Here is the boyish rapier, here the shield,
And here the bugle that blew long and loud!
And here the kite that soared above the cloud,
Here is the boyish rapier, here the shield,
And here the bugle that blew long and loud!
Here is the fairy boat I loved to sail!—
The sight recalls a calm and liquid joy,
I plunge, I plunge, and now the shore I hail,
Where one dear willow bends to greet the boy.
The sight recalls a calm and liquid joy,
I plunge, I plunge, and now the shore I hail,
Where one dear willow bends to greet the boy.
174
Come back! come back! O tender vernal prime!
Sail, fairy bark, across that mimic sea!
Fly, fly, O Kite! as in that grand old time;
Soar, soar to heaven, and bear my heart with thee.
Sail, fairy bark, across that mimic sea!
Fly, fly, O Kite! as in that grand old time;
Soar, soar to heaven, and bear my heart with thee.
Wave, wave, loved Elm! in whose green throne I read
How fair Prince Ahmed loved the fay of old,
—But ah! Time's silver hand is on my head,
O Friends! I have outlived the age of gold.
How fair Prince Ahmed loved the fay of old,
—But ah! Time's silver hand is on my head,
O Friends! I have outlived the age of gold.
Take, take them hence, the symbols of my youth,
For nevermore my childhood's sun will rise;
Fade gorgeous dream before the dull grey truth!
O rainbow, vanish from these leaden skies!
For nevermore my childhood's sun will rise;
Fade gorgeous dream before the dull grey truth!
O rainbow, vanish from these leaden skies!
—But no! we ne'er unlearn what Life hath taught,
In the grave pauses of our childish-play;—
I hear the dear old voices yet in thought,
I yearn for the still faces far away.
In the grave pauses of our childish-play;—
I hear the dear old voices yet in thought,
I yearn for the still faces far away.
Again I stand in youth's enchanted ground,
That ground whereon no pilgrim ever sleeps,
Again I see the Mill's weird sails go round,
While o'er the stream the one dear willow weeps.
That ground whereon no pilgrim ever sleeps,
Again I see the Mill's weird sails go round,
While o'er the stream the one dear willow weeps.
Again the apple reddens in the leaves,
The gauzy petal drops from sylvan brier,
The tall laburnum, near our cottage eaves,
Dips its long garlands in the sunset's fire.
The gauzy petal drops from sylvan brier,
The tall laburnum, near our cottage eaves,
Dips its long garlands in the sunset's fire.
175
Again I see, encampt in that dim land,
The soldier-poppy in the glad green corn.
Again a child with brave Boy Blue I stand,
And scare the cattle with my elfin horn.
The soldier-poppy in the glad green corn.
Again a child with brave Boy Blue I stand,
And scare the cattle with my elfin horn.
Once more they shine, those summers long and bright,
Their sun, new-set, makes roses in my West,
Soft glows within the consecrating light,
As thus, in youth's green bowers, a man I rest.
Their sun, new-set, makes roses in my West,
Soft glows within the consecrating light,
As thus, in youth's green bowers, a man I rest.
176
Household Words
Words that bring back the glad and peaceful Hours,
That watched our frolics in the sun and shade,
When every wind seemed whispering to the Flowers,
Of lovelier worlds where lovelier children play'd,
Are household words.
That watched our frolics in the sun and shade,
When every wind seemed whispering to the Flowers,
Of lovelier worlds where lovelier children play'd,
Are household words.
Words that recall the feelings of our youth,
The garden where our names in emerald grew,
The truth we loved when fairy tales were truth,
When God and Goddess, Fay and Faun, were true,
Are household words.
The garden where our names in emerald grew,
The truth we loved when fairy tales were truth,
When God and Goddess, Fay and Faun, were true,
Are household words.
The tiny words that grew from tiny acts,
The low love-language of the childish heart,
The stammer that interpreted strange facts,
Or strove some schoolboy legend to impart,
Are household words.
The low love-language of the childish heart,
The stammer that interpreted strange facts,
Or strove some schoolboy legend to impart,
Are household words.
177
The names we drew from dell or mossy bower,
When Mab or Ariel for our sponsors stood,
Names haply borrowed from some Greek-called flower,
Or given in praise by Love when we were good,
Are household words.
When Mab or Ariel for our sponsors stood,
Names haply borrowed from some Greek-called flower,
Or given in praise by Love when we were good,
Are household words.
Nor less the words our statelier years record,
By Fancy coined yet bearing Reason's stamp,
Words with which Wit has played, or Love adored,
Slaves of the Ring, or servants of the Lamp,
Are household words,
By Fancy coined yet bearing Reason's stamp,
Words with which Wit has played, or Love adored,
Slaves of the Ring, or servants of the Lamp,
Are household words,
The words of men who clothe our thoughts with speech,
Gay proverb, sparkling phrase, or road-side song,
Words that like sunbeams through the darkness reach,
Crown lowly worth, or brand imperial wrong,
Are household words.
Gay proverb, sparkling phrase, or road-side song,
Words that like sunbeams through the darkness reach,
Crown lowly worth, or brand imperial wrong,
Are household words.
The words of men who walked in War's red ways,
Or spake their fireside thoughts to child or wife,
The simple words that dealing blame or praise,
Ring down the echoing avenues of life,
Are household words.
Or spake their fireside thoughts to child or wife,
The simple words that dealing blame or praise,
Ring down the echoing avenues of life,
Are household words.
Glad words that breathe of sunshine and of morn,
Sweet words that on the wings of evening fly,
Kind words that greet the child when he is born,
And loving words that bless us when we die,
Are household words.
Sweet words that on the wings of evening fly,
Kind words that greet the child when he is born,
And loving words that bless us when we die,
Are household words.
178
Living
When from the amber clouds, in sunset regions,
The sweet west winds come panting with delight,
When the huge shadows, in their darkening legions,
Break from their grasp and fly o'er plain and height,
I live, I live.
The sweet west winds come panting with delight,
When the huge shadows, in their darkening legions,
Break from their grasp and fly o'er plain and height,
I live, I live.
When in the forest where the wood-doves murmur,
Or with the merle's ripe note the covert rings.
I feel my tread upon the turf grow firmer,
Or half with Plato wave my soul's young wings,
I live, I live.
Or with the merle's ripe note the covert rings.
I feel my tread upon the turf grow firmer,
Or half with Plato wave my soul's young wings,
I live, I live.
When the tall ferns, that house the Fairy people,
Stand trembling round me, as the morning grows,
Or when, far-off, I see the soaring steeple,
That dim and ghostlike on the twilight shows,
I live, I live.
Stand trembling round me, as the morning grows,
Or when, far-off, I see the soaring steeple,
That dim and ghostlike on the twilight shows,
I live, I live.
179
When in the garden's still, embowered recesses,
A crownless king, I lift my regal spade,
And charm from Toil a strength that heals and blesses.
A perfume from the mould my hand has laid,
I live, I live,
A crownless king, I lift my regal spade,
And charm from Toil a strength that heals and blesses.
A perfume from the mould my hand has laid,
I live, I live,
When called by silver trumpets of the Morning,
Forth from his dazzling portals walks the Sun,
And the Earth hears that old melodious warning,
And wakes her happy children, one by one,
I live, I live.
Forth from his dazzling portals walks the Sun,
And the Earth hears that old melodious warning,
And wakes her happy children, one by one,
I live, I live.
When human-like the moon-awakened Ocean,
Slow rolls his hollow echoes on the air,
And from that endless sound and restless motion
I draw a strength that bids man do and dare,
I live, I live.
Slow rolls his hollow echoes on the air,
And from that endless sound and restless motion
I draw a strength that bids man do and dare,
I live, I live.
When on the lonely barren moor I wander,
Lit by the yellow glare of flaming gorse,
Or, plumed with courage, cease to dream and ponder,
And, centaur-like, fly onward, man and horse,
I live, I live.
Lit by the yellow glare of flaming gorse,
Or, plumed with courage, cease to dream and ponder,
And, centaur-like, fly onward, man and horse,
I live, I live.
The wind across the heath I hail delighted,
The hanging round of everlasting blue;
And while I gaze, half glad and half affrighted,
And shadowy faces look me thro' and thro',
I live, I live.
The hanging round of everlasting blue;
And while I gaze, half glad and half affrighted,
And shadowy faces look me thro' and thro',
I live, I live.
180
I live when Hope renews her morning splendour,
When Memory floats the evening clouds above,
By tender fancies linked to truths as tender,
By faith heroic and victorious love,
I live, I live.
When Memory floats the evening clouds above,
By tender fancies linked to truths as tender,
By faith heroic and victorious love,
I live, I live.
181
The Cloister in the Hills
This and the following poem, as well as some sonnets in another part of this volume, are reprinted from the “Children's Summer,” Seventeen Illustrations by E. V. B. The Forest Dream was also written to illustrate a water-colour drawing by the same delightful artist.
There is a cleft in far-off purple hills,
Where angels in a cloister sing and play;
The doubtful moon, while eve outgrows the day,
Hangs her pale crescent o'er the glens and rills.
Where angels in a cloister sing and play;
The doubtful moon, while eve outgrows the day,
Hangs her pale crescent o'er the glens and rills.
There, music of young winds and waters born,
Blends with the angels' music as it fades,
And ever, thro' declining lights and shades,
Sounds far away one wandering bugle-horn.
Blends with the angels' music as it fades,
And ever, thro' declining lights and shades,
Sounds far away one wandering bugle-horn.
And often there a Seraph-woman sings,
Mid purple twilights to the listening moon,
And oft the traveller hears her mystic tune,
Or feels the brightness of her open wings.
Mid purple twilights to the listening moon,
And oft the traveller hears her mystic tune,
Or feels the brightness of her open wings.
And children hear her that belated sleep
In the blue hollow of those shadowy hills,
And far-off sounds, but not of winds or rills,
Stir them with thoughts for childish dreams too deep,
In the blue hollow of those shadowy hills,
And far-off sounds, but not of winds or rills,
Stir them with thoughts for childish dreams too deep,
182
Until they wake and fain to heaven would climb,
To hear the angels sing in purer air;
And as they climb, arises stair on stair,
Far up the hills and into heights sublime.
To hear the angels sing in purer air;
And as they climb, arises stair on stair,
Far up the hills and into heights sublime.
So let them climb and hear the ancient tales
That angels tell, but not of human woes;
So let them climb with palm-branch and with rose,
Where holier moonlight, mellower air, prevails.
That angels tell, but not of human woes;
So let them climb with palm-branch and with rose,
Where holier moonlight, mellower air, prevails.
So let them stand and hear the angels' lay,
And stroke the birds whose song their singing stills,
So touch the stars that diadem the hills,
And feel as angels feel when angels pray.
And stroke the birds whose song their singing stills,
So touch the stars that diadem the hills,
And feel as angels feel when angels pray.
183
Angels in the Woods
Heaven still is with us, and the angels walk,
Seen or unseen, in city and in glen;
And half we hear their old melodious talk,
Half see them crown'd with glory as they walk,
When most we love, and loving most, are men.
Seen or unseen, in city and in glen;
And half we hear their old melodious talk,
Half see them crown'd with glory as they walk,
When most we love, and loving most, are men.
Hence what surprise, what passion can there be
To step at once into the golden air?
Faith still is ours: what better men than we
In this ripe age of our dear world may be?
Hearts that believe and love do well to dare.
To step at once into the golden air?
Faith still is ours: what better men than we
In this ripe age of our dear world may be?
Hearts that believe and love do well to dare.
Step boldly mid the foxglove and the fern,
And kiss the vermeil lips of woodland rose,
And hear the warble of the tripping burn,
That sings amid the foxglove and the fern,
And sobs among the pebbles as it flows.
And kiss the vermeil lips of woodland rose,
And hear the warble of the tripping burn,
That sings amid the foxglove and the fern,
And sobs among the pebbles as it flows.
184
Wade where the reeds and yellow flags are seen,
And mossy stones, a fairy bridge, are laid;
But cease, for gliding the tall flowers between,
The Playmates of the angels, glad, serene,
Chase the long sunbeams flying down the glade.
And mossy stones, a fairy bridge, are laid;
But cease, for gliding the tall flowers between,
The Playmates of the angels, glad, serene,
Chase the long sunbeams flying down the glade.
What tree beyond the stream, across the skies
Spreads its green beauty to the air and sun?
What golden apples, tinct with crimson dyes,
Thro' emerald leaves, before the glimmering skies,
Shine, as that holier fruit, on Eve undone?
Spreads its green beauty to the air and sun?
What golden apples, tinct with crimson dyes,
Thro' emerald leaves, before the glimmering skies,
Shine, as that holier fruit, on Eve undone?
O tree! that yet maturer earth shall bear,
O fruit! one day no fable but a fact,
O child! with king-cups in thy glittering hair,
Glad prophecies of what our earth shall bear,
When song and dream condense to noble act.
O fruit! one day no fable but a fact,
O child! with king-cups in thy glittering hair,
Glad prophecies of what our earth shall bear,
When song and dream condense to noble act.
O lovely Forms! that over reed and grass,
Shed light and fragrance and a vernal morn!
O lovely Forms! that pass me and repass,
Here would I lie for ever on the grass,
And wait until the promised age be born.
Shed light and fragrance and a vernal morn!
O lovely Forms! that pass me and repass,
Here would I lie for ever on the grass,
And wait until the promised age be born.
Here would I watch those Seraph-lords supreme,
With radiant fingers, pointing, hand o'er hand,
To younger angels on the charmèd stream,
While the large shadows of those wings supreme,
Touch with rare moonlight brook and flowery strand.
With radiant fingers, pointing, hand o'er hand,
To younger angels on the charmèd stream,
While the large shadows of those wings supreme,
Touch with rare moonlight brook and flowery strand.
185
Here would I see those children in a ring
Dance with the angels or with angels play,
Or hear the songs those crownèd harpers sing
To angels linked with children in a ring,
And garlanded with the celestial May.
Dance with the angels or with angels play,
Or hear the songs those crownèd harpers sing
To angels linked with children in a ring,
And garlanded with the celestial May.
So grace and gladness in my soul should dwell,
Till the old world again grew young and good:
And holier men should holier children tell,
How dreams come true, and how good angels dwell
By each bright hearth, and haunt each bourne and wood.
Till the old world again grew young and good:
And holier men should holier children tell,
How dreams come true, and how good angels dwell
By each bright hearth, and haunt each bourne and wood.
186
The Forest-Dream
I stood one eve within a forest's shade,
I saw the sunlight flow,
Flickering and dancing down the pillared glade,
A golden shadow, that with shadows played,
On a green floor below.
I saw the sunlight flow,
Flickering and dancing down the pillared glade,
A golden shadow, that with shadows played,
On a green floor below.
I saw the soft blue sky thro' latticed trees-
Soft sky and tender clouds;
I saw the branches tremble to the breeze.
Saw, as they trembled, still and far-off leas
To holy musings bowed.
Soft sky and tender clouds;
I saw the branches tremble to the breeze.
Saw, as they trembled, still and far-off leas
To holy musings bowed.
The sweetness and the quiet of the place
Deep thro' my soul had gone,
Till, in some world not ours, I seemed to trace
The skirts of parting glory, saw the face
Of glory coming on.
Deep thro' my soul had gone,
Till, in some world not ours, I seemed to trace
The skirts of parting glory, saw the face
Of glory coming on.
187
“Ah me!” I said, “how beautiful and glad
“This sylvan realm might be,
“Peopled with shapes too holy to be sad—
“Shapes lovely as the fabled Foreworld had,
“When Fancy yet was free.
“This sylvan realm might be,
“Peopled with shapes too holy to be sad—
“Shapes lovely as the fabled Foreworld had,
“When Fancy yet was free.
“Some pastoral quaint of ancient Greece were fit
“To be enacted here;
“Or haply here the Fairy Court might sit,
“Or fairy children flowery garlands knit,
“To lead the silk-necked steer;
“To be enacted here;
“Or haply here the Fairy Court might sit,
“Or fairy children flowery garlands knit,
“To lead the silk-necked steer;
“Or yet more fit, amid a scene so calm,
“Might deep-winged angels stand,
“Or dance, as in great Milton's lofty psalm,
“Face fronting face, and palm enfolding palm,
“A holy happy band.”
“Might deep-winged angels stand,
“Or dance, as in great Milton's lofty psalm,
“Face fronting face, and palm enfolding palm,
“A holy happy band.”
So mused I, in that sacred forest shade,
When suddenly I heard
Low voices murmuring down the pillared glade,
While, mixed with song, soft music round me played,
Till flowers and leaves were stirred.
When suddenly I heard
Low voices murmuring down the pillared glade,
While, mixed with song, soft music round me played,
Till flowers and leaves were stirred.
See! through the boughs that part on every side,
What children come this way?
See, how the forest opens far and wide
For entrance to the joyous shapes that glide
Into its emerald day.
What children come this way?
See, how the forest opens far and wide
For entrance to the joyous shapes that glide
Into its emerald day.
188
Ah! see what pictures hang upon the air,
Making the sunset dim;
Full eyes, all loaded with dark light, are there,
That gleam mysterious under golden hair,
Round cheek and rosy limb.
Making the sunset dim;
Full eyes, all loaded with dark light, are there,
That gleam mysterious under golden hair,
Round cheek and rosy limb.
Ah, happy steer! by gentle children led,
And wreathed with flowery chain,
Slant ever thus thy meek and graceful head,
And bear us to some Eden, long, long fled,
Or bring it back again.
And wreathed with flowery chain,
Slant ever thus thy meek and graceful head,
And bear us to some Eden, long, long fled,
Or bring it back again.
O wonder not, tho' heaven should open wide,
And o'er its flaming wall,
A wingèd messenger should downward glide,
Angels with children—angels, too, abide,
Or come when children call.
And o'er its flaming wall,
A wingèd messenger should downward glide,
Angels with children—angels, too, abide,
Or come when children call.
Pass on, O Dream of antique truth and love!
Fade, cherub, with thy flowers!
Pass on, O gracious creatures! as ye move,
Fair boys with garlands sing of worlds above,
And bring them down to ours.
Fade, cherub, with thy flowers!
Pass on, O gracious creatures! as ye move,
Fair boys with garlands sing of worlds above,
And bring them down to ours.
Pass on, pass on, with merry shout and play!
Pass on, with flute and reed!
Thro' the long forest aisles ye fade away,
Sweet sounds! sweet shapes!—ye fade with fading day,
And leave us poor, indeed!
Pass on, with flute and reed!
Thro' the long forest aisles ye fade away,
Sweet sounds! sweet shapes!—ye fade with fading day,
And leave us poor, indeed!
189
The Bird and the Bower
I had a little bower when I was young;
A bird sang there,
And I, poor child, still listened while it sung
Its magic air.
A bird sang there,
And I, poor child, still listened while it sung
Its magic air.
For still it said, or still it seemed to say,
“The world is thine;
“See how the roses redden, waters play,
“And moonbeams shine.
“The world is thine;
“See how the roses redden, waters play,
“And moonbeams shine.
“See how the sun, with golden, dreaming light,
“The valley fills;
“See how he crowds with a blue gloom like night
“The noonday hills.
“The valley fills;
“See how he crowds with a blue gloom like night
“The noonday hills.
“Deep in the foxglove's bell, where'er thou go,
“Still drones the bee,
“And the red trout, where warbling brooklets flow,
“Leaps up for thee.
“Still drones the bee,
“And the red trout, where warbling brooklets flow,
“Leaps up for thee.
190
“For thee the sun and moon were made of yore,
“The cloud and star;
“For thee God made the After, the Before,
“The Near and Far.
“The cloud and star;
“For thee God made the After, the Before,
“The Near and Far.
“All love, all power, all worship, all delight,
“All fancies wild;
“All rainbow hopes, all dreams of day and night,
“For thee, O child!
“All fancies wild;
“All rainbow hopes, all dreams of day and night,
“For thee, O child!
“The fairy sitting in her home of fern,
“The piping faun,
“The nymph that bears aloft her river urn,
“Or guards the lawn.
“The piping faun,
“The nymph that bears aloft her river urn,
“Or guards the lawn.
“For thee God made the genii of the air,
“And of the deep,
“And the quaint elves that charm, with witchery rare,
“The world of sleep.
“And of the deep,
“And the quaint elves that charm, with witchery rare,
“The world of sleep.
“All, all is thine! thou, thou alone art king,
“Fair, good, and wise!
“Fresh, fresh from heaven, before thee life's great spring,
“Full-blossomed, lies.”
“Fair, good, and wise!
“Fresh, fresh from heaven, before thee life's great spring,
“Full-blossomed, lies.”
Thus in my little bower, when I was young,
The song began,
And all life's summer through the siren sung,
To lure the man.
The song began,
And all life's summer through the siren sung,
To lure the man.
191
But now grey autumn thins that magic bower,
The green leaves fall,
And the old glory fades from tree and flower,
When wild winds call.
The green leaves fall,
And the old glory fades from tree and flower,
When wild winds call.
I hear no more the fairy bugles blow,
The stars are dim,
I hear no more, at the sea's ebb and flow,
The sea-maid's hymn.
The stars are dim,
I hear no more, at the sea's ebb and flow,
The sea-maid's hymn.
With lowly heart and meek sad thought I stand,
A dreamer vain;
But ah! that vision of the morning land
Returns again.
A dreamer vain;
But ah! that vision of the morning land
Returns again.
I dreamt it once, perchance as childhood dreams,
When life began;
I dream it now, nor think it less beseems
The time-taught man.
When life began;
I dream it now, nor think it less beseems
The time-taught man.
I cannot tell if I shall find it true,
In worlds afar,
If I shall win, in that o'erhanging blue,
My regal star.
In worlds afar,
If I shall win, in that o'erhanging blue,
My regal star.
But still the heart a far-off glory sees,
Strange music hears;
A something not of earth still haunts the breeze,
The sun, and spheres.
Strange music hears;
A something not of earth still haunts the breeze,
The sun, and spheres.
192
Still, still I clasp my hands, still look and pine,
Still weep and pray,
Still, still am followed by a voice divine,
And far away.
Still weep and pray,
Still, still am followed by a voice divine,
And far away.
What mean these yearnings, these mysterious sighs,
This hope like fear,
This feeling in the dark, these sudden cries,
When none are near?
This hope like fear,
This feeling in the dark, these sudden cries,
When none are near?
All things that be, all love, all thought, all joy,
Sky, cloud and star,
Spell-bind the man, as once the growing boy,
And point afar;
Sky, cloud and star,
Spell-bind the man, as once the growing boy,
And point afar;
Point to some world of endless, endless truth,
Delight, and power,
And thus comes back that grand old dream of youth,—
The bird and bower.
Delight, and power,
And thus comes back that grand old dream of youth,—
The bird and bower.
193
Psalm
I
All things good for good unite,Evil things not long are single;
'Tis the dark hours bring the light,
Sightless atoms fashion sight,
Discords still for concord mingle.
II
To the wise and to the brave,Living is as fair as loving;
Death brings flowers, on every grave
Moonlight sleeps, and willows wave
Lifelike while warm winds are moving.
194
Old feelings
Once in my childish days I heard
A woman's voice that slowly read,
How 'twixt two shadowy mountains sped,
Four coloured steeds, four chariots whirr'd.
A woman's voice that slowly read,
How 'twixt two shadowy mountains sped,
Four coloured steeds, four chariots whirr'd.
For a magnificent personification of the winds, see Zechariah, chapter vi.
“In the first chariot were red horses; and in the second chariot black horses; and in the third chariot white horses; and in the fourth chariot grisled and bay horses. Then I answered and said unto the angel that talked with me, What are these, my lord? And the angel answered and said unto me, These are the four spirits of the heavens, which go forth from standing before the Lord of all the earth.”
I watched until she laid the book
On the white casement-ledge again;
My heart beat high with joyful pain
On that strange oracle to look.
On the white casement-ledge again;
My heart beat high with joyful pain
On that strange oracle to look.
Day after day I would ascend
The staircase in that large old house,
And still and timorous as a mouse
I sat and made that book my friend.
The staircase in that large old house,
And still and timorous as a mouse
I sat and made that book my friend.
I saw the birth of seas and skies,
The first sweet woman, first brave man;
I saw how morning light began,
How faded, over Paradise.
The first sweet woman, first brave man;
I saw how morning light began,
How faded, over Paradise.
195
I stood with the first Arab boy;
I saw the mother and the child
Of Oriental vision wild,
Laugh by the well for utter joy.
I saw the mother and the child
Of Oriental vision wild,
Laugh by the well for utter joy.
I saw a youth go forth at morn,
A traveller to the Syrian land,
And in the lonely evening stand,
An exile weary and forlorn.
A traveller to the Syrian land,
And in the lonely evening stand,
An exile weary and forlorn.
I saw him by the roadside lay
His sunken head upon a stone,
And while he slumbered, still and lone,
A dream fell on him, fair as day.
His sunken head upon a stone,
And while he slumbered, still and lone,
A dream fell on him, fair as day.
I saw a golden ladder reach
From earth to heaven among the stars,
And up and down its gleaming bars
Trod stately angels, without speech.
From earth to heaven among the stars,
And up and down its gleaming bars
Trod stately angels, without speech.
What wonders did I not behold!
Dark gorgeous women, turban'd men,
White tents, like ships, in plain and glen,
Slaves, palm-trees, camels, pearls, and gold.
Dark gorgeous women, turban'd men,
White tents, like ships, in plain and glen,
Slaves, palm-trees, camels, pearls, and gold.
Ah! many an hour I sat and read,
And God seemed with me all day long;
Joy murmured a sweet undersong,
I talkt with angels, with them fed.
And God seemed with me all day long;
Joy murmured a sweet undersong,
I talkt with angels, with them fed.
196
It was an old deserted room;
There was a skylight arch'd above,
And the blue heaven look'd thro' like love,
Softening and colouring mortal gloom.
There was a skylight arch'd above,
And the blue heaven look'd thro' like love,
Softening and colouring mortal gloom.
No playmate had I, knew no game,
Yet sometimes left my book to run
And blow bright bubbles in the sun;
In after life we do the same!
Yet sometimes left my book to run
And blow bright bubbles in the sun;
In after life we do the same!
That time is gone; you think me weak.
That I regret that perish'd time,
That I recal my golden prime
With beating heart and blushing cheek.
That I regret that perish'd time,
That I recal my golden prime
With beating heart and blushing cheek.
That time is gone: I live for truth,
Glad to resign each rainbow sham;
But, still remembering what I am,
I praise my sweet and saintly youth.
Glad to resign each rainbow sham;
But, still remembering what I am,
I praise my sweet and saintly youth.
So great a hope made truce with fear.
My joy and wonder were so strong,
So rare and delicate a song
Young Life was singing in mine ear!
My joy and wonder were so strong,
So rare and delicate a song
Young Life was singing in mine ear!
I therefore still in fancy climb
Up to that old and faded room,
Where feelings like fresh roses bloom
Over the grave of that fair time.
Up to that old and faded room,
Where feelings like fresh roses bloom
Over the grave of that fair time.
197
Influences
The World still gives what most seems ours,
Its beauty silent, ripe, and sweet,
Its truth, which we are proud to greet,
Still moulds and strengthens all our powers.
The doctrine embodied in this poem—written more than twenty years ago, and first published in the Athenæum—is finely touched in a remarkable article on Shelley, by “One who knew him,” in the Allantic Monthly for February, 1863. “The ability to receive influence is the most exalted faculty which human nature can attain; while the exercise of an arbitrary power centering in itself is not only debasing, but is an actual destroyer of human faculty.”
Its beauty silent, ripe, and sweet,
Its truth, which we are proud to greet,
Still moulds and strengthens all our powers.
The sun, round whom the planets glide,
The moon, that gives the light she takes,
The flowers in meadows and in brakes,
The flowing and the ebbing tides.
The moon, that gives the light she takes,
The flowers in meadows and in brakes,
The flowing and the ebbing tides.
The granite rock, on which are laid,
Level or slanted, marl and stone,
With blooms and mosses overgrown,
Meek children of the Sun and shade.
Level or slanted, marl and stone,
With blooms and mosses overgrown,
Meek children of the Sun and shade.
The bridging rainbow; the blue gloom
That in romantic gorges sleeps,
The floating amber mist that creeps
O'er dreamy fields where cowslips bloom.
That in romantic gorges sleeps,
The floating amber mist that creeps
O'er dreamy fields where cowslips bloom.
198
The pale-green, azure light that gleams
Round the sky's rim when suns are low,
Full of a sweet dead Long-ago,
Yet breathing Hope's delicious dreams.
Round the sky's rim when suns are low,
Full of a sweet dead Long-ago,
Yet breathing Hope's delicious dreams.
The World still gives what most seems ours,
Sun, moon, and wave, with clouds that die,
And trees that yearn to reach the sky,
Fashion our minds and mould our powers.
Sun, moon, and wave, with clouds that die,
And trees that yearn to reach the sky,
Fashion our minds and mould our powers.
Men whom we champion, wrong or right,
And women fond with fragrant breath,
Flowing thro'lips that kiss till death,
And eyelids trembling with delight.
And women fond with fragrant breath,
Flowing thro'lips that kiss till death,
And eyelids trembling with delight.
The children that about us play,
With golden hair and soft white flesh,
Smooth as magnolia flowers, and fresh
Full cheeks that blush like dawning day.
With golden hair and soft white flesh,
Smooth as magnolia flowers, and fresh
Full cheeks that blush like dawning day.
The songs the elder poets sung,
The lays of Greece, the Hebrew's psalm,
The thought of wise men, grave and calm,
Late-born or dead when Time was young.
The lays of Greece, the Hebrew's psalm,
The thought of wise men, grave and calm,
Late-born or dead when Time was young.
The soul is like a mirror fair,
Reflecting every shape and hue,
Yet as it changes, changing too
All that we know and all we are.
Reflecting every shape and hue,
Yet as it changes, changing too
All that we know and all we are.
199
The World still gives what most seems ours;
As ebbs and flows, in calm and strife,
This everlasting sea of life,
So ebb and flow our human powers.
As ebbs and flows, in calm and strife,
This everlasting sea of life,
So ebb and flow our human powers.
200
The Last Day
All seems eternal now.—Shelley.
One day, my darling lake beside,
In a low reedy marsh I walk'd,
Where swans, like snowy shadows glide,
And as with wildering thoughts I talk'd,
With scornful wail the swans replied.
In a low reedy marsh I walk'd,
Where swans, like snowy shadows glide,
And as with wildering thoughts I talk'd,
With scornful wail the swans replied.
It was a dull still afternoon,
No human voice was in the air,
Nor warbled note nor whistled tune,
Nor shout of one that hath no care,
From sunrise till eve's mellow moon.
No human voice was in the air,
Nor warbled note nor whistled tune,
Nor shout of one that hath no care,
From sunrise till eve's mellow moon.
The reeds stood round me, stiff and lank,
The green-gold beetle on a stone
Lay motionless, and rank on rank,
Red hips and ruby berries shone,
Yet shook not on their mossy bank.
The green-gold beetle on a stone
Lay motionless, and rank on rank,
Red hips and ruby berries shone,
Yet shook not on their mossy bank.
201
The elm-trees crost their arms of green,
And stood erect, like men resign'd
To see what never should be seen,
And bear their fate with equal mind,
Both what will be, and what hath been.
And stood erect, like men resign'd
To see what never should be seen,
And bear their fate with equal mind,
Both what will be, and what hath been.
There were no shadows in the grass,
No spots of brightness near the trees,
No birds to pass me or repass;
There was no motion, was no breeze:
All lifeless stretcht the whole morass.
No spots of brightness near the trees,
No birds to pass me or repass;
There was no motion, was no breeze:
All lifeless stretcht the whole morass.
Dense, grey, and sullen o'er me spread
The low near level of the sky,
No cloud was sailing overhead;
But here and there I saw on high,
Blue breaks, yet blue of greenish dye.
The low near level of the sky,
No cloud was sailing overhead;
But here and there I saw on high,
Blue breaks, yet blue of greenish dye.
There was a smell of mild decay,
Of withering fragrance, mouldering wood.
But how or whence it came that way
I know not; in my strange wild mood
I did not know the hour of day.
Of withering fragrance, mouldering wood.
But how or whence it came that way
I know not; in my strange wild mood
I did not know the hour of day.
To me it seemed there were no hours,
Was neither After nor Before,
Were neither men nor heavenly powers,
And never would be any more,
That God was dead, and all was o'er.
Was neither After nor Before,
Were neither men nor heavenly powers,
And never would be any more,
That God was dead, and all was o'er.
202
It was the last, last day I thought,
Here ended all our bliss and pain,
What God and man had wrought was wrought,
And nothing could be changed again,
Nothing be either lost or sought.
Here ended all our bliss and pain,
What God and man had wrought was wrought,
And nothing could be changed again,
Nothing be either lost or sought.
All is eternal now, I said.
The swans will ever wail and scream,
The flat grey sky still o'er me spread;
And life, one fixed and endless dream,
Shall bring no change to heart or head,
The swans will ever wail and scream,
The flat grey sky still o'er me spread;
And life, one fixed and endless dream,
Shall bring no change to heart or head,
203
Athanase
In the early morning hours.
Wandered Athanase alone,
Ere the dew was off the flowers,
Ere the first fresh light was gone.
When the voices of the Morning,
Wind and water, chimed and rang,
When the lark with regal scorning
Into the blue æther sprang.
Wandered Athanase alone,
Ere the dew was off the flowers,
Ere the first fresh light was gone.
When the voices of the Morning,
Wind and water, chimed and rang,
When the lark with regal scorning
Into the blue æther sprang.
Athanase beheld the splendour
Of the clouds and of the skies,
Saw the colours fair and tender,
Fade before his longing eyes.
Saw a coming and a going,
White and blue, through waving trees,
As though sky and cloud were flowing
Down the smooth stream of the breeze.
Of the clouds and of the skies,
Saw the colours fair and tender,
Fade before his longing eyes.
Saw a coming and a going,
White and blue, through waving trees,
As though sky and cloud were flowing
Down the smooth stream of the breeze.
Sense of wild and wooing sweetness,
On the bosom of the morn,
More complete for incompleteness,
Rose from violets newly born,
Song of lark unseen above him,
Fainted in a long delight,
And the clouds that seemed to love him,
Soared and swooned upon his sight.
On the bosom of the morn,
More complete for incompleteness,
Rose from violets newly born,
204
Fainted in a long delight,
And the clouds that seemed to love him,
Soared and swooned upon his sight.
Then a thought, half thought, half feeling,
With sweet sorrow touch'd his soul,
Glimpses of a world revealing,
Far from man's delight and dole.
Sense of music past him flowing,
Sound of far-off endless seas,
With a coming and a going
Of glad faces in the breeze.
With sweet sorrow touch'd his soul,
Glimpses of a world revealing,
Far from man's delight and dole.
Sense of music past him flowing,
Sound of far-off endless seas,
With a coming and a going
Of glad faces in the breeze.
And advancing and retiring,
Golden shores and rivers bright,
Filled his soul with strange desiring,
And his eyes with starry light.
And he look'd through blue abysses,
Of the heaven above his head,
And he yearned to know what blisses,
Or what griefs await the Dead.
Golden shores and rivers bright,
Filled his soul with strange desiring,
And his eyes with starry light.
And he look'd through blue abysses,
Of the heaven above his head,
And he yearned to know what blisses,
Or what griefs await the Dead.
Upward soar the rocks around him,
Downward dive the rocks below,
And a mighty spell hath bound him-
Vainly, vainly would he go.
On the verge he bends him slowly,
Gazes on a quiet lake;
Deep below its waters holy
For the sky a mirror make.
Downward dive the rocks below,
And a mighty spell hath bound him-
Vainly, vainly would he go.
On the verge he bends him slowly,
Gazes on a quiet lake;
Deep below its waters holy
For the sky a mirror make.
205
Thought of joy and thought of terror!
Gazing down the grey abyss,
He beholds in that fair mirror,
Shadowy forms in shadowy bliss.
Then a yearning for completeness,
And a thirst for ampler life,
And a brightness and a sweetness
Waver in luxurious strife.
Gazing down the grey abyss,
He beholds in that fair mirror,
Shadowy forms in shadowy bliss.
Then a yearning for completeness,
And a thirst for ampler life,
And a brightness and a sweetness
Waver in luxurious strife.
Calmly standing, deeply gazing,
Turning not to left or right,
Nor depressing, nor upraising,
His fix'd vision for delight.
Gazing through those grey abysses,
Drunk with rapture and with dread,
Leaping down, he learns what blisses
And what griefs await the Dead.
Turning not to left or right,
Nor depressing, nor upraising,
His fix'd vision for delight.
Gazing through those grey abysses,
Drunk with rapture and with dread,
Leaping down, he learns what blisses
And what griefs await the Dead.
206
Ascension
I will climb, I will climb,
Up the mountains, I said,
I will hear the glad chime
Of the stars overhead.
Up the mountains, I said,
I will hear the glad chime
Of the stars overhead.
I have listened too long
To the voices of earth,
And I pine for the song
Of the gods in their mirth.
To the voices of earth,
And I pine for the song
Of the gods in their mirth.
On the heights, on the hills,
Where the stars seem to rest,
Where bright manna distils
From the groves of the Blest.
Where the stars seem to rest,
Where bright manna distils
From the groves of the Blest.
I will stand, I will stand,
I will listen, all night,
For the songs of the land
Where the gods walk in light.
I will listen, all night,
For the songs of the land
Where the gods walk in light.
207
Then I climbed, and I climbed.
Thro' the sweet sunset hour,
While the fairy bells chimed
From the castle and tower.
Thro' the sweet sunset hour,
While the fairy bells chimed
From the castle and tower.
I was fed on pure balm,
And I mounted aloft,
Thro' the blue floating calm,
On warm breezes and soft.
And I mounted aloft,
Thro' the blue floating calm,
On warm breezes and soft.
Till the glades and the dells
Vanish'd out of the day,
And the far fairy bells
Faded slowly away.
Vanish'd out of the day,
And the far fairy bells
Faded slowly away.
Then I stood all alone,
And Hope look'd from my eyes;
But the stars they had flown
Higher up, with the skies.
And Hope look'd from my eyes;
But the stars they had flown
Higher up, with the skies.
As I mounted my heaven
Had mounted with me,
And no song from the Seven
Burst majestic and free.
Had mounted with me,
And no song from the Seven
Burst majestic and free.
But mount higher and higher,
O clasper of stars!
Ascend like a fire
O'er the cloud's purple bars.
O clasper of stars!
Ascend like a fire
O'er the cloud's purple bars.
208
If thy goal still retreat,
Know thy goal still is there;
And the starlight is sweet,
As it smiles down the air.
Know thy goal still is there;
And the starlight is sweet,
As it smiles down the air.
O! fed with pure balm,
Can that food be in vain?
Wilt thou leave the blue calm
For the dark earth again?
Can that food be in vain?
Wilt thou leave the blue calm
For the dark earth again?
If thy stars, if thy sky,
Fall and pass from thy sight,
Thou shalt climb till on high
Breaks a lordlier light.
Fall and pass from thy sight,
Thou shalt climb till on high
Breaks a lordlier light.
Thou shalt climb, thou shalt climb,
Up the mountains, and see
How a sky more sublime,
Sweeter stars wait for thee.
Up the mountains, and see
How a sky more sublime,
Sweeter stars wait for thee.
Thou shalt see the abodes
Where, in music and love,
Calm and regal, the gods
Lie and banquet above.
Where, in music and love,
Calm and regal, the gods
Lie and banquet above.
Thou shalt rest as they rest,
Thou shalt smile when they sing;
Thou shalt feast with the Blest,
And with kings be a king.
Thou shalt smile when they sing;
Thou shalt feast with the Blest,
And with kings be a king.
209
Hymn
When in the green and glimmering lanes I linger,
And gather roses, kissing their red lips;
Or when, deep-dyed by Autumn's ruddy finger,
I feast on bunches ripe of coral hips,
I praise thee, World.
And gather roses, kissing their red lips;
Or when, deep-dyed by Autumn's ruddy finger,
I feast on bunches ripe of coral hips,
I praise thee, World.
When I am smothered under children's faces,
Dazzled by floating air and warm blue eyes,
And catching glimpses, mid their wild embraces,
Of delicate white limbs that scorn disguise,
I praise thee, World.
Dazzled by floating air and warm blue eyes,
And catching glimpses, mid their wild embraces,
Of delicate white limbs that scorn disguise,
I praise thee, World.
When I am bedded deep in flowering grasses,
Watching the sailing clouds and wandering air,
Or borrowing wings from every bird that passes,
Or facing the bold sun, with stare for stare,
I praise thee, World.
Watching the sailing clouds and wandering air,
Or borrowing wings from every bird that passes,
Or facing the bold sun, with stare for stare,
I praise thee, World.
210
When by the marbled lake I lie and listen
To one sweet voice that sings to me alone,
Veiled by green leaves whose silver faces glisten
In breezy light down the blue summer blown,
I praise thee, World.
To one sweet voice that sings to me alone,
Veiled by green leaves whose silver faces glisten
In breezy light down the blue summer blown,
I praise thee, World.
When her white ivory fingers twine and quiver,
Twinkling thro' mine, and when her golden hair
Flows down her neck, like sunlight down a river,
And half she is, and half she is not there,
I praise thee, World.
Twinkling thro' mine, and when her golden hair
Flows down her neck, like sunlight down a river,
And half she is, and half she is not there,
I praise thee, World.
When I can look from my proud height above her,
In her quaint faëry face, or o'er her bend,
And know I am her friend but not her lover,
That she is not my lover but my friend,
I praise thee, World.
In her quaint faëry face, or o'er her bend,
And know I am her friend but not her lover,
That she is not my lover but my friend,
I praise thee, World.
When Margaret pale, and rare and gorgeous Helen,
Or sweet Ottilia, love, weep, smile, or feast,
For the still world of lovely forms I dwell in,
And for thy Poet, for our king and priest,
I praise thee, World.
Or sweet Ottilia, love, weep, smile, or feast,
For the still world of lovely forms I dwell in,
And for thy Poet, for our king and priest,
I praise thee, World.
When I have heard the imprisoned echoes breaking
From rolling clouds, like shouts of gods in fight,
Or armies calling armies, when awaking,
They rise all breathless from too large delight,
I praise thee, World.
From rolling clouds, like shouts of gods in fight,
Or armies calling armies, when awaking,
They rise all breathless from too large delight,
I praise thee, World.
211
When I have seen the scarlet lightnings falling
From cloudy battlements, like throneless kings;
Have seen great angels that, to angels calling,
Open and shut their gold and silver wings,
I praise thee. World.
From cloudy battlements, like throneless kings;
Have seen great angels that, to angels calling,
Open and shut their gold and silver wings,
I praise thee. World.
When I have passed a nobler life in sorrow;
Have seen rude masses grow to fulgent spheres;
Seen how To-day is father of To-morrow,
And how the Ages justify the Years,
I praise thee. World.
Have seen rude masses grow to fulgent spheres;
Seen how To-day is father of To-morrow,
And how the Ages justify the Years,
I praise thee. World.
212
A Song of Night
The stars in heaven are silver-fair,
The honied scents of the woodbine float,
On the smooth wave of the moon-warm air;
The thistle-down flies o'er the castle moat,
And no owl is hooting thro' the night.
The honied scents of the woodbine float,
On the smooth wave of the moon-warm air;
The thistle-down flies o'er the castle moat,
And no owl is hooting thro' the night.
Joy wakes and sings in my heart of hearts,
My soul is feeding among the flowers.
The sorrow is dead and the cloud departs,
And I dream once more in youth's glorious bowers,
And no owl is hooting thro' the night.
My soul is feeding among the flowers.
The sorrow is dead and the cloud departs,
And I dream once more in youth's glorious bowers,
And no owl is hooting thro' the night.
But, ah! a voice and a fear within
Seem to hint of grief and of crime unknown,
And over my brightness the shadow of sin,
Like a black veil o'er a fair girl, is thrown,
And the owl is hooting thro' the night.
Seem to hint of grief and of crime unknown,
And over my brightness the shadow of sin,
Like a black veil o'er a fair girl, is thrown,
And the owl is hooting thro' the night.
213
It comes with a clash, it comes with a storm.
The light and the music fade away,
And far above the phantom-form
Of the witch-like moon walks cold and gray,
And the owl is hooting thro' the night.
The light and the music fade away,
And far above the phantom-form
Of the witch-like moon walks cold and gray,
And the owl is hooting thro' the night.
I mount, I float on the wings of the wind,
The terror within me, the storm without,
The death before me, the peril behind,
In the driving mist of an endless doubt,
While the owl is hooting thro' the night.
The terror within me, the storm without,
The death before me, the peril behind,
In the driving mist of an endless doubt,
While the owl is hooting thro' the night.
If Love were near, or if Faith's pale star
Shone on the edge of the trembling cloud,
Where the new spring morning burns afar,
I should rise as the dead rise from their shroud.
When the owl is hooting thro' the night.
Shone on the edge of the trembling cloud,
Where the new spring morning burns afar,
I should rise as the dead rise from their shroud.
When the owl is hooting thro' the night.
I should rise all glad with a radiant hope,
I should rise inflamed with passionate song,
And under the Morning's still blue cope,
Feel the love in my heart grow deep and strong,
Tho' the owl is hooting thro' the night.
I should rise inflamed with passionate song,
And under the Morning's still blue cope,
Feel the love in my heart grow deep and strong,
Tho' the owl is hooting thro' the night.
O, Life, that ever lives in the sky,
That throbs in the star, that flows in the sea,
That still lives on when all things die,
Power, Love or God, live, live in me,
Like music or fragrance or morning light.
That throbs in the star, that flows in the sea,
That still lives on when all things die,
Power, Love or God, live, live in me,
Like music or fragrance or morning light.
214
Hesperia
In those good days, when yet-the world was new,
And man and angel talked, as friends now do,
When woman and her seraph-lover kist
Beneath the veil of that first silver mist
That watered Eden, ere the sinful showers
Began to fall on the young gardener's flowers,
Far off, beyond the mountains of the West,
A second Eve a second Adam blest,
As he blest her, each finding life complete
In their sweet selves, and in their children sweet;
And seraph-lovers oft, at night and morn,
For some dear woman's sake would leave their heaven forlorn.
And man and angel talked, as friends now do,
When woman and her seraph-lover kist
Beneath the veil of that first silver mist
That watered Eden, ere the sinful showers
Began to fall on the young gardener's flowers,
Far off, beyond the mountains of the West,
A second Eve a second Adam blest,
As he blest her, each finding life complete
In their sweet selves, and in their children sweet;
And seraph-lovers oft, at night and morn,
For some dear woman's sake would leave their heaven forlorn.
Beyond these mountains, lone and far away,
Hesperia named, another Eden lay.
Tho' here some raindrops fell, at rise and close of day.
Once, two young sisters—passing where the gate
Of this sweet second Eden, like a fate,
Barring that tempting entrance seemed to wait-
Paused where a forest, sacred, mystic rose.
Breathless and silent with a dread repose,
It reared its walls of emerald, vast and high,
Roofed by the cloudy marble of the sky,
Touched with the dim religion of old days,
A sanctuary for everlasting praise.
Its columns giant trees, whose mighty shades,
Mingling, took shape in aisles and dim arcades;
With gorgeous leaves and blossoms some had bound
Their massive boles and gnarlèd branches round;
Some stood with wide-spread arms; and from aloft
Some drooped green wavering plumes all velvet-soft;
Or half expectant, half in mute surprise,
Watched as some great event were coming from the skies.
Birds of sweet voice as ever God had given
Sang to the royal sun and laughing heaven,
And when he fell into the awful sea
Thanked Him who made the sun with wild melodious glee;
The virgin Earth, all fresh with singing showers,
Wooed to her fragrant breast the first-born flowers;
In kingly purple clothed and turbaned pride,
They in the cool green silence lived and died.
Each as it fell, more beautiful in death,
Gave to a lovelier heir both bloom and breath,
That bud and leaf more richly might unfold,
Arrayed in living cloth of crimson, blue, and gold.
Quick down immeasured depths of forest-night,
Glanced the free insects, waving wings of light,
Or piloted themselves, like rainbow gleams
On the still bosom of the crystal streams,
In which the portraiture of the blue sky
Was mirrored, and in sweet inconstancy
Shone violet cloud and silver mist afar,
Round the pale crescent moon, and one deep distant star.
Hesperia named, another Eden lay.
Tho' here some raindrops fell, at rise and close of day.
Once, two young sisters—passing where the gate
Of this sweet second Eden, like a fate,
Barring that tempting entrance seemed to wait-
215
Breathless and silent with a dread repose,
It reared its walls of emerald, vast and high,
Roofed by the cloudy marble of the sky,
Touched with the dim religion of old days,
A sanctuary for everlasting praise.
Its columns giant trees, whose mighty shades,
Mingling, took shape in aisles and dim arcades;
With gorgeous leaves and blossoms some had bound
Their massive boles and gnarlèd branches round;
Some stood with wide-spread arms; and from aloft
Some drooped green wavering plumes all velvet-soft;
Or half expectant, half in mute surprise,
Watched as some great event were coming from the skies.
Birds of sweet voice as ever God had given
Sang to the royal sun and laughing heaven,
And when he fell into the awful sea
Thanked Him who made the sun with wild melodious glee;
The virgin Earth, all fresh with singing showers,
Wooed to her fragrant breast the first-born flowers;
In kingly purple clothed and turbaned pride,
They in the cool green silence lived and died.
Each as it fell, more beautiful in death,
Gave to a lovelier heir both bloom and breath,
That bud and leaf more richly might unfold,
Arrayed in living cloth of crimson, blue, and gold.
Quick down immeasured depths of forest-night,
Glanced the free insects, waving wings of light,
Or piloted themselves, like rainbow gleams
On the still bosom of the crystal streams,
216
Was mirrored, and in sweet inconstancy
Shone violet cloud and silver mist afar,
Round the pale crescent moon, and one deep distant star.
Hither the sisters came.
217
The Judgment of Uriel
[A large hall open to the sky. Michael is seated on a throne. Before him kneel The rebel angels in complete armour. Uriel stands haughtily on one side.]Angels.
Have mercy, Michael, we that sinned repent.
Mi.
Before such sin as yours, even mercy fades,
As fades the glory from your drooping wings.
The grace ye ask, O angels, is denied.
Ur.
Ha, who denies it?
Mi.
I do, in the name
And with the will of Him who sent me here.
Ur.
But art thou sent?
Mi.
I am.
Ur.
I know not that.
Mi.
Nay; if ye doubt that I am sent by Him,
Demand what sign ye please; it shall be given.
Ur.
Will he refuse no sign that we may ask?
Mi.
None.
Ur.
Let the self-same fire, then, fall from heaven,
Of which the eternal coronet is wrought,
And diadem my brow. So shall I stand
218
The lord of evil I, as he of good.
Mi.
Ah! angel, who can wear God's crown but God?
Ur.
The enemy of God. Do thou my will.
Mi.
What dost thou see?
Ur.
I see the heavens unfold,
And from their dazzling clefts a sunlike flame
Falls and still falls, till, taking shape, it grows,
To likeness of the eternal diadem,
And clasps my brow. I see—
Mi.
Thou feel'st a crown
Woven of scarlet flames, that twist and flow
About thy branded brow. Why dost thou start,
And look up to the heavens, as one struck blind?
Ur.
What, is there no one will put out that fire?
Oh put it out; let it not reach the sky.
Ah! me. The angry drops of blood-red flame
Fall thickly from the warring firmament.
The hail smites sharply, and the wailing winds
Sound through the thunder. 'T is a fearful night!
I thirst! I thirst! There is a lake afar,
A lake of cool fresh water, far away.
Give me one drop to cool my fiery tongue.
Oh take this burning circle off my head!
Indeed, I do not wish to be a king.
It is so sad, so sad, to be alone.
I had a dream, and in my dream I thought
There was an angel once who would be God.
'T was a presumptuous wish to climb so high.
Ah me! the clouds roll off. I see a star
219
The fresh breath of the vigorous morning air.
It is the sun I see, and not a star.
It is the day. I am glad it was a dream.
I had forgotten you were waiting here.
Go, tell your master that I feel his power,
But will not own it. I, too, am a king,
And thus I fold me in my kingliness.
Mi.
I see thee stand and gather up thy robe,
That starts away like some full sail at sea,
By sudden wind inflated. Yet no wind
Is here to lift it, but a whirling flame
Catches the struggling folds with violent grasp.
Now darkness falls, but still I see thee stand
With burning diadem on wasted brows,
And robes from which the fiery flakes fall fast
Drifting against thy angel limbs. Behold
The judgment of the rebel Uriel.
220
The Lost Angel
It was the dawn; the early day
With rosy finger drew away
The veil of night—a various grey.
With rosy finger drew away
The veil of night—a various grey.
The stars that in the dark had stood,
Half prominent and half subdued,
An archangelic multitude,
Half prominent and half subdued,
An archangelic multitude,
On the blue summit of the sky,
Now one by one came down from high,
And died, as all fair things must die.
Now one by one came down from high,
And died, as all fair things must die.
One star alone grew yet more bright,
Grew larger with the death of night,
And cast on flower and tree fresh light:
Grew larger with the death of night,
And cast on flower and tree fresh light:
But chiefly fell its mystic beams
On the pale maiden of my dreams,
Who weeps by Eden's holy streams.
On the pale maiden of my dreams,
Who weeps by Eden's holy streams.
221
She, self-reproached and self-betray'd,
Half sorrowful and half dismay'd,
Grieves under an enchanted shade.
Half sorrowful and half dismay'd,
Grieves under an enchanted shade.
“O star,” she cries, “dost thou regain
“Thine ancient splendour? fair domain
“Made fairer to increase my pain!
“Thine ancient splendour? fair domain
“Made fairer to increase my pain!
“O star! be sad as I am sad,
“Our dear lost angel is not glad,
“And can we have the joy we had?”
“Our dear lost angel is not glad,
“And can we have the joy we had?”
So grieves she still, so still resents
Her angel's fate, and scarce laments
The trespass she but half repents.
Her angel's fate, and scarce laments
The trespass she but half repents.
But through the lattice-work of trees
A red and angry light she sees,
That rolls along the rolling breeze:
A red and angry light she sees,
That rolls along the rolling breeze:
It comes that way, it grows more red,
Self-moving, self-concentrated;
She sees it come, she droops her head.
Self-moving, self-concentrated;
She sees it come, she droops her head.
It comes more near: she sees, she hears,
She moves not: if she fears, she fears
As one who looks for falling spheres;
She moves not: if she fears, she fears
As one who looks for falling spheres;
And may not feel, and cannot know,
Whether such things as weal and woe.
Or love and grief, abide below.
Whether such things as weal and woe.
Or love and grief, abide below.
222
It comes, it stands the dawn beneath,
She feels the presence and the breath
Of him whom we poor men call Death:
She feels the presence and the breath
Of him whom we poor men call Death:
In crimson heart of flaming cloud
His shadowy head a Shadow bowed,
But opened wings like daylight's shroud,
His shadowy head a Shadow bowed,
But opened wings like daylight's shroud,
Embroidered by the sunset skies,
When day lay dead on Paradise,
And Eve taught Adam it would rise.
When day lay dead on Paradise,
And Eve taught Adam it would rise.
It touches her, her heart is cold,
Her eyes may look, but not behold,
And misty waves are round her roll'd.
Her eyes may look, but not behold,
And misty waves are round her roll'd.
223
The Two Sisters
Awake! awake! the royal hills
Are diademed with rosy light,
The forests murmur, warbling rills
Leap, flashing, down the height.
Are diademed with rosy light,
The forests murmur, warbling rills
Leap, flashing, down the height.
Where stately trees like pillars rise,
A child is kneeling on the sod,
Her face is gazing on the skies,
Her heart is fixed on God.
A child is kneeling on the sod,
Her face is gazing on the skies,
Her heart is fixed on God.
Her prayer is said, she rises now,
She seeks the dear familiar bower,
Shadowed by many a leafy bough,
Perfumed by many a flower.
She seeks the dear familiar bower,
Shadowed by many a leafy bough,
Perfumed by many a flower.
With fingers pale the bridal vine
Still clasps her forest lord, and strays
Where warm voluptuous sunbeams shine,
A thousand various ways;
Still clasps her forest lord, and strays
Where warm voluptuous sunbeams shine,
A thousand various ways;
224
Or drops the curtain, that she weaves,
In folds before that temple fair:
A lovely tapestry of leaves,
That stirs with every air.
In folds before that temple fair:
A lovely tapestry of leaves,
That stirs with every air.
The child approacht the lone retreat,
With quickened step and eager eye;
She called—Awake! O sister, sweet!
But there was no reply.
With quickened step and eager eye;
She called—Awake! O sister, sweet!
But there was no reply.
She drew the leafy veil apart,
She looked above, but nothing said,
And entering with a beating heart,
She stood before the dead.
She looked above, but nothing said,
And entering with a beating heart,
She stood before the dead.
Alone and with the Dead she stood,
The Dead, asleep among the flowers,
That yesternight her hand had strew'd,
Marked not the changing hours.
The Dead, asleep among the flowers,
That yesternight her hand had strew'd,
Marked not the changing hours.
She knew not it was morning prime,
Shall never know the silent noon,
Shall never heed the twilight time,
Nor chronicle the moon.
Shall never know the silent noon,
Shall never heed the twilight time,
Nor chronicle the moon.
A broken lily in her hand,
A drooping rose on drooping head;
Even Nature seemed to understand
Her queenliest flower lay dead.
A drooping rose on drooping head;
Even Nature seemed to understand
Her queenliest flower lay dead.
225
The Child, with aspect sad and still,
Stood gazing at her sister's side,
Content, if it had been God's will,
That moment to have died.
Stood gazing at her sister's side,
Content, if it had been God's will,
That moment to have died.
She felt like Eve, when Eden's gate
Had closed on her for evermore,
She felt that life was desolate,
That Paradise was o'er.
Had closed on her for evermore,
She felt that life was desolate,
That Paradise was o'er.
Then drop the curtain, fold by fold,
Over the consecrated Bower,
And veil from curious eyes and cold
The dead and living Flower.
Over the consecrated Bower,
And veil from curious eyes and cold
The dead and living Flower.
226
Uriel
The seraph Uriel, as the records tell
That angels write, from his allegiance fell:
And He who rules the worlds beyond the sun,
He in whom love and wisdom are made one,
Did hurl him from his royalty of light
To dwell amid the souls that wail in night;
Then Uriel felt his beauty fade away,
And a great grief came o'er him day by day,
But as his splendour withered for his sin,
Stronger and brighter grew the love within;
And so in silence, in his fiery gaol
He stood, rejoiced that love could yet prevail.
That angels write, from his allegiance fell:
And He who rules the worlds beyond the sun,
He in whom love and wisdom are made one,
Did hurl him from his royalty of light
To dwell amid the souls that wail in night;
Then Uriel felt his beauty fade away,
And a great grief came o'er him day by day,
But as his splendour withered for his sin,
Stronger and brighter grew the love within;
And so in silence, in his fiery gaol
He stood, rejoiced that love could yet prevail.
One day the ancient Gods that weep below
Accosted Uriel: “Uriel this great woe
“Will never pass, the stars will seek the sun,
“The universe shall end as it begun;
“But thro' the endless circle of the years
“Which angels know, shall neither hopes nor fears
“Visit the dwellers in these realms of fire;
“Therefore, when hate and anguish shall inspire,
“Ease thy full heart with curses deep as ours.
“For love will never win thee Eden's bowers.”
Then Uriel answered: “He who made the night,
“Crowned it with stars, and with the pure delight
“Of the clear moon: He who made all things frail,
“Decrees that sovran beauty shall prevail;
“There is no sorrow, friends, but it has still
“Some soul of sweetness in it; there's no ill
“But comes from him who made it and is good
“As fruit in season, leaf in budding wood,
“But if in this dread world all hope were vain,
“If penance were eternal, if such pain
“He could inflict and I endure, my will
“Would be to love thro' all this cruel ill.”
He ended, and the ancient Gods below
Ceased wailing, when they saw the mild calm glow
That wandered over that good angel's face,
Like moonlight on smooth waters, till the grace
That lay in his brave bearing and soft speech
Melted the hatred from the hearts of each;
And they stood up, and thro' the streets of Hell
The surge of countless voices rose and fell,
Praising the silent Power that dwells above,
Singing, “We love thee, Lord, for thou art Love.”
Accosted Uriel: “Uriel this great woe
“Will never pass, the stars will seek the sun,
“The universe shall end as it begun;
“But thro' the endless circle of the years
“Which angels know, shall neither hopes nor fears
“Visit the dwellers in these realms of fire;
“Therefore, when hate and anguish shall inspire,
227
“For love will never win thee Eden's bowers.”
Then Uriel answered: “He who made the night,
“Crowned it with stars, and with the pure delight
“Of the clear moon: He who made all things frail,
“Decrees that sovran beauty shall prevail;
“There is no sorrow, friends, but it has still
“Some soul of sweetness in it; there's no ill
“But comes from him who made it and is good
“As fruit in season, leaf in budding wood,
“But if in this dread world all hope were vain,
“If penance were eternal, if such pain
“He could inflict and I endure, my will
“Would be to love thro' all this cruel ill.”
He ended, and the ancient Gods below
Ceased wailing, when they saw the mild calm glow
That wandered over that good angel's face,
Like moonlight on smooth waters, till the grace
That lay in his brave bearing and soft speech
Melted the hatred from the hearts of each;
And they stood up, and thro' the streets of Hell
The surge of countless voices rose and fell,
Praising the silent Power that dwells above,
Singing, “We love thee, Lord, for thou art Love.”
Then the red dungeon burst its grates and bars,
And light came leaping in from suns and stars,
Lapsing down dreadful rifts; the Shapes below
Saw fragments of blue sky above them glow,
Like windows, thro' the clefts; they felt the air
Cooling their branded foreheads; everywhere
They saw the faces of young angels shine,
And golden fingers point to thrones divine,
While a low whisper murmured like the breeze
That comes and goes on tops of full-leafed trees,
And thus it said: “O loving angels, rise,
“Borne by your love thro' the unfolding skies;
“There is no sin, no sorrow, and no hell
“But they must cease where hearts love long and well,
“Where lips praise God in anguish, and confess
“There's love in pain, that even wrong can bless.”
And light came leaping in from suns and stars,
Lapsing down dreadful rifts; the Shapes below
Saw fragments of blue sky above them glow,
Like windows, thro' the clefts; they felt the air
Cooling their branded foreheads; everywhere
228
And golden fingers point to thrones divine,
While a low whisper murmured like the breeze
That comes and goes on tops of full-leafed trees,
And thus it said: “O loving angels, rise,
“Borne by your love thro' the unfolding skies;
“There is no sin, no sorrow, and no hell
“But they must cease where hearts love long and well,
“Where lips praise God in anguish, and confess
“There's love in pain, that even wrong can bless.”
The whisper ceased, and every soul, forgiven
By love, for love's sweet sake went up to heaven;
Each stood before his throne, fair, glad, and calm,
And God sat in the midst and heard the psalm
Which joyful angels raised in chorus bland,
And Uriel sat, like God, on God's right hand.
By love, for love's sweet sake went up to heaven;
Each stood before his throne, fair, glad, and calm,
And God sat in the midst and heard the psalm
Which joyful angels raised in chorus bland,
And Uriel sat, like God, on God's right hand.
229
Vesta
No; I did not marry you
That you should enslave my soul;
And this right is somewhat new
Of an absolute control.
That you should enslave my soul;
And this right is somewhat new
Of an absolute control.
Most ignoble is the thought,
Very false the word you say;
Soul and body was I bought,
On that dreadful marriage day!
Very false the word you say;
Soul and body was I bought,
On that dreadful marriage day!
No; in my pure womanhood,
I belong to none on earth.
Henceforth be it understood
That we are of equal birth.
I belong to none on earth.
Henceforth be it understood
That we are of equal birth.
Man art thou and woman I;
Soul and body are our own;
We must live and we must die
Sovrans of ourselves alone.
Soul and body are our own;
We must live and we must die
Sovrans of ourselves alone.
233
Tread rebellious passion down;
Purity is man's best grace;
Fiery gaze and wrathful frown
Drive the godlike from his face.
Purity is man's best grace;
Fiery gaze and wrathful frown
Drive the godlike from his face.
Learn, dear friend, a nobler lore,
Marriage has a sacred dread;
Holy as she was before,
Is the maid when she is wed.
Marriage has a sacred dread;
Holy as she was before,
Is the maid when she is wed.
234
Song
Cold heart, I heed not thee;
Cold heart, judge thou not me;
Soon, soon, must I depart:
Farewell, farewell, cold heart!
Farewell, farewell!
Cold heart, judge thou not me;
Soon, soon, must I depart:
Farewell, farewell, cold heart!
Farewell, farewell!
As in the lonely vale,
Fadeth the windflower pale,
Where bee nor butterfly
Mourns when her blossoms die,
In her sweet cell.
Fadeth the windflower pale,
Where bee nor butterfly
Mourns when her blossoms die,
In her sweet cell.
So none will mourn for me,
Child, man on shore, on sea,
So too, must I depart:
Farewell, farewell, cold heart!
Farewell, farewell!
Child, man on shore, on sea,
So too, must I depart:
Farewell, farewell, cold heart!
Farewell, farewell!
235
Joy and Despondency
In youth's glad hour I left the eddying dance,
When the large shadows hovered on the wall,
And where proud rocks athwart the ocean glance,
I trod the shore alone, the king of all.
When the large shadows hovered on the wall,
And where proud rocks athwart the ocean glance,
I trod the shore alone, the king of all.
There, as the yellow evening faded fast,
I paced with measured step the barren sand,
Or watched the dwarfing sail and dwindling mast
Fly down the sunset to the morning-land.
I paced with measured step the barren sand,
Or watched the dwarfing sail and dwindling mast
Fly down the sunset to the morning-land.
Or when the sky was crost with cloudy bars.
Silent I stood on lone and lovely leas,
Or climbed some hill-top overlook'd by stars,
When God seemed passing in the conscious breeze.
Silent I stood on lone and lovely leas,
Or climbed some hill-top overlook'd by stars,
When God seemed passing in the conscious breeze.
Then strength and gladness to my heart were given,
Then soul grew sense and sense refined to soul:
“I am a king, I cried, elect of Heaven!
“I am a part of one majestic whole.
Then soul grew sense and sense refined to soul:
“I am a king, I cried, elect of Heaven!
“I am a part of one majestic whole.
236
“With the great tide of things I ebb and flow,
“I help to ring the world's melodious chime;
“I know life's fairest mysteries, and I know
“Her music and her universal rhyme.”
“I help to ring the world's melodious chime;
“I know life's fairest mysteries, and I know
“Her music and her universal rhyme.”
Lulled in ambrosial dreams all night I lay;
Through lucid air, God's darling, I was borne:
But, ah! I said, these dreams may pass away,—
I with blank eyes may wake and see the morn.
Through lucid air, God's darling, I was borne:
But, ah! I said, these dreams may pass away,—
I with blank eyes may wake and see the morn.
237
Doubt
It came at length; I rose to face the day;
Rude laughter met me, voices loud and wild,
Music and mystery both had past away,
An orphan I, for God had left his child.
Rude laughter met me, voices loud and wild,
Music and mystery both had past away,
An orphan I, for God had left his child.
I paced the lone uncomfortable sand,
The sea lay flat and sullen as a pond,
Ah! what if there should be no morning-land,
Should be no sunrise and no shore beyond.
The sea lay flat and sullen as a pond,
Ah! what if there should be no morning-land,
Should be no sunrise and no shore beyond.
Then doubt on doubt of subtle thread I spun,
Firm were the strands, the thread was all compact,
From sense and fancy hateful help I won,
Built thought on thought and buttressed fact by fact.
Firm were the strands, the thread was all compact,
From sense and fancy hateful help I won,
Built thought on thought and buttressed fact by fact.
“Spring comes, ” I cried, “but never more return
“The leaf and blossom of the perished year,
“On tree and tower red fruit and berry burn,
“But not the same the old autumn suns held dear.
“The leaf and blossom of the perished year,
“On tree and tower red fruit and berry burn,
“But not the same the old autumn suns held dear.
238
“All grows and ripens, falls, decays, and dies;
“There is no second life for flower or tree,
“O suffering soul! be humble and be wise!
“Nor dream new worlds have any need of thee!
“There is no second life for flower or tree,
“O suffering soul! be humble and be wise!
“Nor dream new worlds have any need of thee!
“Yet, tho'thy fruit must fall, thy blossom fade,
“Like all fair things before the unpitying Hours,
“Live, like thy fellow-mortals of the glade,
“And die like thy co-rivals of the bowers.”
“Like all fair things before the unpitying Hours,
“Live, like thy fellow-mortals of the glade,
“And die like thy co-rivals of the bowers.”
239
Faith
“And yet,” I mused, “the World is deep and wide.
“And the full circle of our life expands,
“Broadening and brightening on an endless tide,
“That ebbs and flows between these mystic lands.
“And the full circle of our life expands,
“Broadening and brightening on an endless tide,
“That ebbs and flows between these mystic lands.
“There is no death for that which dwells apart,
“Mid changing forms a secret strength remains;
“All work endures, strong mind and noble heart
“Touch to fine issues nobler hearts and brains.
“Mid changing forms a secret strength remains;
“All work endures, strong mind and noble heart
“Touch to fine issues nobler hearts and brains.
“True word, kind deed, sweet song shall vibrate still,
“In rings that wander thro' celestial air,
“And human will shall build for human will,
“Fair basement to a palace yet more fair.
“In rings that wander thro' celestial air,
“And human will shall build for human will,
“Fair basement to a palace yet more fair.
“O God! I will not ask to know thy thought,
“I will not climb thy hills or span thy sky,
“Shall the child compass what the man hath wrought.
“Can man do more than feel the God on high!
“I will not climb thy hills or span thy sky,
“Shall the child compass what the man hath wrought.
“Can man do more than feel the God on high!
240
“Not endless life, but endless love, I crave,
“The gladness and the calm of holier springs,
“The hope that makes men resolute and brave,
“The joyful life in the great Life of Things.
“The gladness and the calm of holier springs,
“The hope that makes men resolute and brave,
“The joyful life in the great Life of Things.
“The soul that loves and works will need no praise,
“But, fed with sunlight and with morning breath,
“Will make our common days eternal days,
“And fearless greet the mild and gracious death.”
“But, fed with sunlight and with morning breath,
“Will make our common days eternal days,
“And fearless greet the mild and gracious death.”
241
The Golden City
He shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending
out of Heaven from God, having the glory of God.”—Revelation.
On the green country of the dead I look;
Earth sleeps, and there is silence all around,
I only hear the music of the brook,
I listen, but I hear no other sound.
Earth sleeps, and there is silence all around,
I only hear the music of the brook,
I listen, but I hear no other sound.
I look on heaven, I see the ancient Moon,
I see the eternal Stars, each on his throne;
My spirit fails, I hear no more the tune
Of that sweet brook; earth fades; I am alone.
I see the eternal Stars, each on his throne;
My spirit fails, I hear no more the tune
Of that sweet brook; earth fades; I am alone.
I am alone, far off in some strange land,
Some world of dream, both like and unlike ours;
I hear a music none may understand,
A sound of waters gliding among flowers.
Some world of dream, both like and unlike ours;
I hear a music none may understand,
A sound of waters gliding among flowers.
Glorified multitudes of perfect men,
Giants in intellect, but babes in heart,
Are wandering through a green and sunny glen,
Basking in splendour never to depart.
Giants in intellect, but babes in heart,
Are wandering through a green and sunny glen,
Basking in splendour never to depart.
245
Luminous spirits, angels darkly bright,
And gliding shapes with glories round their head.
And prophets standing in a cloudy light,
And poets that gaze upwards as they tread.
And gliding shapes with glories round their head.
And prophets standing in a cloudy light,
And poets that gaze upwards as they tread.
Far in the distance, even as a star,
A golden city rears its giant towers.
The lightning of its glory shines afar,
I see its wondrous domes, its happy bowers!
A golden city rears its giant towers.
The lightning of its glory shines afar,
I see its wondrous domes, its happy bowers!
No sun is there to light it, not a ray
Falls or from moon or star; it never knows
The death or resurrection of the day,
But in one everlasting summer glows.
Falls or from moon or star; it never knows
The death or resurrection of the day,
But in one everlasting summer glows.
Silent it lies—a wondrous splendour broods
Over each sapphire dome and minaret,
A splendour as of beauteous multitudes
Of setting suns, still setting, never set.
Over each sapphire dome and minaret,
A splendour as of beauteous multitudes
Of setting suns, still setting, never set.
Wondering I turned away, a Shape drew near—
“O son of man, what seest thou?” he said;
I answered not the Shape for very fear,
For awful was the glory round his head.
“O son of man, what seest thou?” he said;
I answered not the Shape for very fear,
For awful was the glory round his head.
“Fear not, O child of Earth!” the spirit cried;
Then spake I, slowly gathering up my powers,
“Spirit, where am I?” “Mortal,” he replied,
“I dare not name to thee this land of ours;
Then spake I, slowly gathering up my powers,
“Spirit, where am I?” “Mortal,” he replied,
“I dare not name to thee this land of ours;
246
“But if aught else thou wouldest understand,
“I will reveal it, if thou question me.”
“Then asked I, “What is that triumphant band,
“Whose is that golden city that I see?”
“I will reveal it, if thou question me.”
“Then asked I, “What is that triumphant band,
“Whose is that golden city that I see?”
“What are those glorious Shapes, broad-browed, heaveneyed,
“Who seek that city, so serenely bright?”
“They are the morning-stars of God,” he cried,
“They are the children of the primal light.
“Who seek that city, so serenely bright?”
“They are the morning-stars of God,” he cried,
“They are the children of the primal light.
“This is the church of the eternal Priest,
“These are the nations of the only King,
“These are the banquetters at his great feast,
“These are the minstrels that his praises sing.
“These are the nations of the only King,
“These are the banquetters at his great feast,
“These are the minstrels that his praises sing.
“That is the golden city of the free,
“Come down from heaven to be man's bright abode.”
“What is the wondrous splendour that I see?”
“The shadow of the beauty men call God.”
“Come down from heaven to be man's bright abode.”
“What is the wondrous splendour that I see?”
“The shadow of the beauty men call God.”
He ceast, and lo, the vision faded fast,
The golden city faded from my view,
Each beauteous figure, as it swiftly past,
Dim and yet dimmer in the distance grew.
The golden city faded from my view,
Each beauteous figure, as it swiftly past,
Dim and yet dimmer in the distance grew.
And now once more upon the earth I look,
I see the Church asleep beneath the moon,
I see the patient moon—the unseen brook
Plays to the quiet woods its pleasant tune.
I see the Church asleep beneath the moon,
I see the patient moon—the unseen brook
Plays to the quiet woods its pleasant tune.
247
Eternal blessings, reverent church! be thine:
O patient moon, my blessing be with thee,
For thou hast raised within this soul of mine
A vision that I never hoped to see.
O patient moon, my blessing be with thee,
For thou hast raised within this soul of mine
A vision that I never hoped to see.
And often when my spirit is brought low,
And when my human heart is out of tune,
Shall I behold that moon in beauty glow,
And see the church asleep beneath the moon.
And when my human heart is out of tune,
Shall I behold that moon in beauty glow,
And see the church asleep beneath the moon.
| Golden Histories, etc | |