 | Under The Aspens |  |
Let me look upon the river—it is still, and it is deep,
And would not mock the wretch who clove the silence of its breast;
Eyes that are burning, burning with the tears ye cannot weep,
Brain that to work me more of woe hast robbed the night of sleep,—
Let me look upon the river, let the river give me rest.
And would not mock the wretch who clove the silence of its breast;
Eyes that are burning, burning with the tears ye cannot weep,
Brain that to work me more of woe hast robbed the night of sleep,—
Let me look upon the river, let the river give me rest.
Let me look upon the river; though the stars are overhead,
They are far away and strange to me, a creature of the dust,
They may plough their way in light upon their ordered courses sped,
They may sweep on their long cycles with the patience of the dead:
But they cannot find a cure for grief, a grave for broken trust.
They are far away and strange to me, a creature of the dust,
They may plough their way in light upon their ordered courses sped,
2
But they cannot find a cure for grief, a grave for broken trust.
The bosom of the river is in all the world the one
That is open to my sorrow: let me look upon my friend;
If you only now would take me to your arms, and all were done,
Or my heart against the parapet would harden into stone,
Till I sunk upon your bosom all unconscious of the end.
That is open to my sorrow: let me look upon my friend;
If you only now would take me to your arms, and all were done,
Or my heart against the parapet would harden into stone,
Till I sunk upon your bosom all unconscious of the end.
Hist, there are drowning visions: some have lived their lives again,
When the waters filled the gates of sense as with a lover's kiss;
Some have left upon its surface all the bitter wrong and pain,
Some have lived and loved once more and thought they did not love in vain,
As they met the backward stream of life that bore them into bliss.
When the waters filled the gates of sense as with a lover's kiss;
Some have left upon its surface all the bitter wrong and pain,
Some have lived and loved once more and thought they did not love in vain,
As they met the backward stream of life that bore them into bliss.
3
I shut my weary eyes upon the lamps, and that torn wrack
Of cloud that mounts and drowns the stars and waning moon in night;
I will think that I am drowning, and my willing thought send back
On the way it knows too surely, on the happy beaten track;
I will feed upon the poison of my deadly lost delight.
Of cloud that mounts and drowns the stars and waning moon in night;
I will think that I am drowning, and my willing thought send back
On the way it knows too surely, on the happy beaten track;
I will feed upon the poison of my deadly lost delight.
Only a look exchanged, a look which might have never been,
And the world had still gone round, and I had died one day in sleep,
Never awakened, never having breathed the breath too keen
Of these mountain joys and sorrows, known the gulf they overlean,
The blank rock face that looks upon love's awful sunless deep.
And the world had still gone round, and I had died one day in sleep,
Never awakened, never having breathed the breath too keen
Of these mountain joys and sorrows, known the gulf they overlean,
The blank rock face that looks upon love's awful sunless deep.
Oh river, what am I to you, or what are you to me,
That you mix yourself with all my life? It was upon your breast
That standing in the crowd upon your bank I came to see
Him, swaying in the boat that plunged and panted to get free
And bear him from my sight whom I had singled from the rest.
That you mix yourself with all my life? It was upon your breast
That standing in the crowd upon your bank I came to see
4
And bear him from my sight whom I had singled from the rest.
Stroke oar he was, the calm of gathered power upon his face
Though flushed with coming battle to the shores of yellow hair;
It was a lusty day of March, and this should be the race
Whereto all England's thoughts were set. I know not by what grace
We came to be so near—I only know that I was there,
Though flushed with coming battle to the shores of yellow hair;
It was a lusty day of March, and this should be the race
Whereto all England's thoughts were set. I know not by what grace
We came to be so near—I only know that I was there,
Fluttered with wind and sun, and with the breath that seemed to rise
From out the crowd and float us as a wave; that one by one
We past the crews in gay review, we, feigning to be wise,
And after that no more—my fate had met me in the eyes,
And thence it was another world, ruled by another sun.
From out the crowd and float us as a wave; that one by one
We past the crews in gay review, we, feigning to be wise,
And after that no more—my fate had met me in the eyes,
And thence it was another world, ruled by another sun.
5
He did not light on me at once; his gaze just touched and past
The faces on the crowded bank, until it paused on mine—
Paused, and there rested, and will rest; my face will be the last
To leave him; it will hold him to my love, yes, hold him fast
Though the river rise between us, drink my life, and make no sign.
The faces on the crowded bank, until it paused on mine—
Paused, and there rested, and will rest; my face will be the last
To leave him; it will hold him to my love, yes, hold him fast
Though the river rise between us, drink my life, and make no sign.
Only a look, I know not if of longing or content,
Or just a gleam of glad surprise had past between us two,
But I think that even at the first we both knew what it meant;
While my shaded eyes retiring from the light of his were bent
On the knot of azure ribbons that the mocking March winds blew
Or just a gleam of glad surprise had past between us two,
But I think that even at the first we both knew what it meant;
While my shaded eyes retiring from the light of his were bent
On the knot of azure ribbons that the mocking March winds blew
And flaunted in my face, till hardly looking I could see
He had caught the foolish symbol and was troubled at the sight;
What was Cambridge then, its crew, what all the alien world to me,
That I should stand and vaunt a hope that was not his, and be
The harbinger of failure to my hero in the fight?
He had caught the foolish symbol and was troubled at the sight;
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That I should stand and vaunt a hope that was not his, and be
The harbinger of failure to my hero in the fight?
Then there came a breathless moment, they were waiting for the start,
The rival boats in line, at rest, each hand-grip hard upon
A lifted oar;—through all I feel the beating of one heart;
The signal flashes, oars are wings, they fly; but as we part
He throws a bright appeal, and finds the lying favour gone!
The rival boats in line, at rest, each hand-grip hard upon
A lifted oar;—through all I feel the beating of one heart;
The signal flashes, oars are wings, they fly; but as we part
He throws a bright appeal, and finds the lying favour gone!
I had sent it to the winds of March, scarce knowing what I did,
Not dreaming that his questing glance would come my way again
Till I saw his smile of triumph, and I fear my lips unbid
Must have shaped themselves in answer, for my surging blushes chid
The gladness of a heart that sought to hide itself in vain.
Not dreaming that his questing glance would come my way again
Till I saw his smile of triumph, and I fear my lips unbid
Must have shaped themselves in answer, for my surging blushes chid
The gladness of a heart that sought to hide itself in vain.
7
He went and it was over, it had only been a dream;
But it warned me of a hidden self, a life before unknown,
And it thrilled me as a dream can thrill, with now a hope supreme,
And now a creeping fear, as if in that one lightning gleam
The height of Heaven and depth of hell had suddenly been shown.
But it warned me of a hidden self, a life before unknown,
And it thrilled me as a dream can thrill, with now a hope supreme,
And now a creeping fear, as if in that one lightning gleam
The height of Heaven and depth of hell had suddenly been shown.
It was Alice who was with me; we were free for half a day;
She, the gentlest of my workmates, held me closely by the hand,
So she surely must have felt the shaft that struck me, if no ray
Of the sudden morning-glory touched her eyes or came her way;
Yet she joins my foes and girds at him—the bitterest of the band.
She, the gentlest of my workmates, held me closely by the hand,
So she surely must have felt the shaft that struck me, if no ray
Of the sudden morning-glory touched her eyes or came her way;
Yet she joins my foes and girds at him—the bitterest of the band.
We watched the rise and fall upon the water of those wings—
The oars that flashed on either side the flying boat as one,
And the strength of all my heart that had its own life and the springs
Was transferred to him, or seemed so, in its fond imaginings,
As I hung in utter weakness till the doubtful day was won.
The oars that flashed on either side the flying boat as one,
8
Was transferred to him, or seemed so, in its fond imaginings,
As I hung in utter weakness till the doubtful day was won.
Then my life came back, or nearly, —it was pulsing in the crowd
That ebbed and flowed around us, making music with his name;
It was good to feel it all about, to hear it cry aloud
While I stood in happy silence with my secret unavowed,
But smiling at the pity that I dared not yet disclaim.
That ebbed and flowed around us, making music with his name;
It was good to feel it all about, to hear it cry aloud
While I stood in happy silence with my secret unavowed,
But smiling at the pity that I dared not yet disclaim.
Had it then, indeed, been over, had I seen his face no more,
I had had a harmless vision of the wonders of the deep,
Just a lifting of the vapour as I crouched upon the shore,
And the clouds had settled down, and all had slumbered as before,
While I held a fading image I could hardly hope to keep.
I had had a harmless vision of the wonders of the deep,
Just a lifting of the vapour as I crouched upon the shore,
And the clouds had settled down, and all had slumbered as before,
While I held a fading image I could hardly hope to keep.
9
But the river, yes the river, he has got my life entwined,
In his deadly silver meshes he has got my life in fee;
As the flashing wings came beating up the stream against the wind,
I turned and faced the crowd, and would have fled as flies the hind,
But it held me while the river wrought and brought my fate to me.
In his deadly silver meshes he has got my life in fee;
As the flashing wings came beating up the stream against the wind,
I turned and faced the crowd, and would have fled as flies the hind,
But it held me while the river wrought and brought my fate to me.
It held me fast, the wanton crowd, it forced me on his sight,
Feeling all my heart uncovered, with no favour on my breast;
To be found where he had left me, and to have to meet the light
Of his eyes that spoke their knowledge, and their triumph in my plight,—
Knowing we'l a hidden hope was in my foolish fears confessed.
Feeling all my heart uncovered, with no favour on my breast;
To be found where he had left me, and to have to meet the light
Of his eyes that spoke their knowledge, and their triumph in my plight,—
Knowing we'l a hidden hope was in my foolish fears confessed.
But the river, whether friend or foe, the river was to blame;
Had I fallen in the crowd wherein I sought to make retreat,
It had closed on me unheeding, trampled, left me to my shame,
But it pressed and threw me forward, when the swollen river came
And sucked me in, and drew me drenched and breathless to his feet.
Had I fallen in the crowd wherein I sought to make retreat,
10
But it pressed and threw me forward, when the swollen river came
And sucked me in, and drew me drenched and breathless to his feet.
It had claimed me as his tribute; was he not the river king
Standing upright at the stern in all the glory of his state?
I lay trembling as a bird afeard to get upon the wing,
As he stepped into the stream and took me up, a fluttering thing—
Yes, the river had betrayed me to that baptism of fate.
Standing upright at the stern in all the glory of his state?
I lay trembling as a bird afeard to get upon the wing,
As he stepped into the stream and took me up, a fluttering thing—
Yes, the river had betrayed me to that baptism of fate.
| Under The Aspens | |