The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
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The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||
VI.
The bugle blows from the elfin dells
With a hark and a hey halloo!
The Land where eternal summer dwells,
The Land of magical songs and spells,
Again shines bright and blue!
With a hark and a hey halloo!
The Land where eternal summer dwells,
The Land of magical songs and spells,
Again shines bright and blue!
Be it sun or snow, be it rain or wind,
I echo that music here,
Tho' my heart beats faint and my eyes grow blind
And the wintertide is near.
I echo that music here,
Tho' my heart beats faint and my eyes grow blind
And the wintertide is near.
I hear the sound of a funeral bell
Go thro' the World grown gray,—
I hear the wise men ringing the knell
Of a God that is dead, they say.
Go thro' the World grown gray,—
I hear the wise men ringing the knell
Of a God that is dead, they say.
I hear the weeping, I hear the groans,
I see the mourners stir,
I watch the sextons who heap the stones
On the mouth of the sepulchre!
I see the mourners stir,
I watch the sextons who heap the stones
On the mouth of the sepulchre!
But I only smile, for the Fays by night
Make the day's long labour vain,—
Legions from Elfland, laughing light,
Open the grave again!
Make the day's long labour vain,—
Legions from Elfland, laughing light,
Open the grave again!
When the gates o' the grave are openèd
And the lambs sleep in the fold,
The Fay-King arises, quick not dead,
And the gleam of the moonlight is round his head,
And his shroud is shining gold!
And the lambs sleep in the fold,
The Fay-King arises, quick not dead,
And the gleam of the moonlight is round his head,
And his shroud is shining gold!
He stands and smiles on the folk asleep,
Yea, stoops and comforts them,
But the men and women that sleep not, creep
To touch his raiment-hem!
Yea, stoops and comforts them,
But the men and women that sleep not, creep
To touch his raiment-hem!
And I hear his voice ring clear and mild
Over the earth and the sea,—
‘Except thou be as a little Child,
Thou shalt not come to Me!’
Over the earth and the sea,—
‘Except thou be as a little Child,
Thou shalt not come to Me!’
And I see the faces of old, old men
Grow foolish and glad and young,
And I hear the grandam crooning again
The songs the Fays have sung;
Grow foolish and glad and young,
And I hear the grandam crooning again
The songs the Fays have sung;
And men and women forget their care
And cry like lambs in the night,
For the King of Elfland finds them there,
And the spirits of Elfland fill the air
With dreams from the Land of Light;
And cry like lambs in the night,
For the King of Elfland finds them there,
And the spirits of Elfland fill the air
With dreams from the Land of Light;
And the graves are open, and shining crowds
Throng from the fields of Sleep,
And we see our loved ones in their shrouds,
That fall and leave them like breaking clouds,
And we clasp their hands and weep!
Throng from the fields of Sleep,
And we see our loved ones in their shrouds,
That fall and leave them like breaking clouds,
And we clasp their hands and weep!
Yea, this is the work the Fay-folk do
In the name of their gentle King,—
Ah, well for men if they surelier knew
The message the Good Folk bring!
In the name of their gentle King,—
Ah, well for men if they surelier knew
The message the Good Folk bring!
Alas for the life of ashes and sand,
Alas for the World grown gray,
If the gentle dream of the Fairy Land,
The Light in the lattice of Heaven, the Hand
That beckons, should fade away!
Alas for the World grown gray,
If the gentle dream of the Fairy Land,
The Light in the lattice of Heaven, the Hand
That beckons, should fade away!
The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||