 | Fleet Street Eclogues |  |
55
MICHAELMAS
BASIL HERBERT BRIAN SANDY MENZIESHerbert
The farmer roasts his stubble goose.
Menzies
The pard and tiger moths are loose.
Sandy
The broom-pods crackle in the sun;
And since the flowers are nearly done,
From thymy slopes and heather hills,
The wearied bee his pocket fills
56
The wearied bee!
Herbert
On ancient walls
The moss turns greener.
Sandy
Hark! St Paul's
Booms midnight.
Brian
Basil is asleep.
Sandy
Boom, iron tongue! boom, slow and deep!
Menzies
The berries on the hawthorn tree
Are red as blood.
Brian
The wearied bee!
57
In Devon cider-presses flow,
And lads and lasses nutting go.
Basil
Twelve notes the bell-voiced midnight pealed;
The moon stood still; the wan stars reeled.
Brian
Lord! Basil, are you off your head?
Basil
The opening knell had wakened me;
The twelfth rang out a lullaby.
Brian
What passion's this? whose mare is dead?
Sandy
Fie, Brian! Let him say his say.
Begin again and fire away.
58
I started from uneasy slumber,
And heard night's stately tongue o'er-number
Twelve measured beats. While rang the last
I slept again; but ere it passed
In still-attenuating sound
I wakened from that sudden swound.
A dream begotten by the bell,
Was born within its lingering knell.
The deep prolonged reverberation
Seized on me like a jubilation,
And from my fleshly jail-garment,
And from the world's imprisonment,
And out of penitential Time
Bore me into a ransomed clime.
The air was balmier than the west
That bends the barley's nodding crest,
When happy folk the greenwood seek,
And summer roasts the apple's cheek.
A darkness of another dye
Than earthly night o'erspread the sky
If any heaven were heaved on high:
The only light that guided me
My soul's enkindled radiancy.
The splendour that my spirit threw
Revealed new green, new golden dew,
Wherein I saw new flowers encamp:
They glimmered in my silvery lamp
Like gems in an illumined grot:
I glided on; my light waned not;
Fresh wonders peered forth as I passed;
Without me brooded darkness vast.
Among the branches of the trees
That trembled to the fingering breeze,
And far more softly sang and sighed
Than soft Æolian harps, I spied
Looks brighter than the liquid gold
That streams before the peal has rolled.
Notes sweeter than the nightingale's,
More piercing than the lowly rail's,
And wealthier than the gorgeous chime
The mocking-bird at coupling time
Re-rings again and o'er and o'er
In changes richer than before,
With ruffling throat and spiral motion—
The vortex of a whirling ocean,
Whose floods are seething music waves
Outwelling from his heart's glad caves—
Surged and re-surged about my sense,
That revelled in their vehemence.
And heard night's stately tongue o'er-number
Twelve measured beats. While rang the last
I slept again; but ere it passed
In still-attenuating sound
I wakened from that sudden swound.
A dream begotten by the bell,
Was born within its lingering knell.
The deep prolonged reverberation
Seized on me like a jubilation,
And from my fleshly jail-garment,
And from the world's imprisonment,
And out of penitential Time
Bore me into a ransomed clime.
The air was balmier than the west
That bends the barley's nodding crest,
When happy folk the greenwood seek,
And summer roasts the apple's cheek.
A darkness of another dye
59
If any heaven were heaved on high:
The only light that guided me
My soul's enkindled radiancy.
The splendour that my spirit threw
Revealed new green, new golden dew,
Wherein I saw new flowers encamp:
They glimmered in my silvery lamp
Like gems in an illumined grot:
I glided on; my light waned not;
Fresh wonders peered forth as I passed;
Without me brooded darkness vast.
Among the branches of the trees
That trembled to the fingering breeze,
And far more softly sang and sighed
Than soft Æolian harps, I spied
Looks brighter than the liquid gold
That streams before the peal has rolled.
Notes sweeter than the nightingale's,
More piercing than the lowly rail's,
60
The mocking-bird at coupling time
Re-rings again and o'er and o'er
In changes richer than before,
With ruffling throat and spiral motion—
The vortex of a whirling ocean,
Whose floods are seething music waves
Outwelling from his heart's glad caves—
Surged and re-surged about my sense,
That revelled in their vehemence.
A blackness then waylaid my soul,
Intense, unfrayed, a perfect whole:
My beams could not irradiate
This ebon front, this cloudy gate.
Far up I saw a shimmer dim,
Like that above a night-cloud's rim,
Left trailing by the long-sunk sun,
When half the summer-time is done:
It coped the high-reared dense black blind:
I wondered what might be behind;
But when I pressed no step might be,
And yet between the wall and me,
The strange sward flower-strewn I could see.
Intense, unfrayed, a perfect whole:
My beams could not irradiate
This ebon front, this cloudy gate.
Far up I saw a shimmer dim,
Like that above a night-cloud's rim,
Left trailing by the long-sunk sun,
When half the summer-time is done:
It coped the high-reared dense black blind:
61
But when I pressed no step might be,
And yet between the wall and me,
The strange sward flower-strewn I could see.
Soon sang a voice; and, strange to tell,
It was my own voice singing well
A new song that I cannot mind:
Vanished at once the dense black blind;
Far, wide, a rainbow heaven of light
Clouded a while my silly sight.
It was my own voice singing well
A new song that I cannot mind:
Vanished at once the dense black blind;
Far, wide, a rainbow heaven of light
Clouded a while my silly sight.
I saw a sky of purple gloom,
That glowed as from a Tyrian loom,
And blushing hills perfumed with heath,
And flower-decked valleys hung beneath,
Where water purled a signal noise,
Melodious, like an angel's voice.
And there were forests great and old,
The carpet of whose fertile mould
Was woven of ferns and lustrous flowers;
And caves were there and pleasant bowers;
And rocks, immortally undressed,
That shone through many a loose green vest.
And in the sky, and on the hills,
And through the woods, and by the rills,
A host of lights of every hue,
And every shape lit up the view.
Some shone with blood-streaked glow of green
Like jasper; the carnation sheen
Of sardonyx beamed bright and pale;
And like a maiden's finger-nail
The hue of chalcedony gleamed;
And some pale blue like jacinth seemed;
And there were flames like crysolites,
And rubies—gems that love delights
Beside the well-loved lips to shame;
And there was many an emerald flame;
And topazes and sapphires came,
And smouldering amethystine hues,
Like purple grapes where lights infuse
A glow of garden violets,
Or women's eyes love's sweet dew wets.
That glowed as from a Tyrian loom,
And blushing hills perfumed with heath,
And flower-decked valleys hung beneath,
Where water purled a signal noise,
Melodious, like an angel's voice.
And there were forests great and old,
The carpet of whose fertile mould
62
And caves were there and pleasant bowers;
And rocks, immortally undressed,
That shone through many a loose green vest.
And in the sky, and on the hills,
And through the woods, and by the rills,
A host of lights of every hue,
And every shape lit up the view.
Some shone with blood-streaked glow of green
Like jasper; the carnation sheen
Of sardonyx beamed bright and pale;
And like a maiden's finger-nail
The hue of chalcedony gleamed;
And some pale blue like jacinth seemed;
And there were flames like crysolites,
And rubies—gems that love delights
Beside the well-loved lips to shame;
And there was many an emerald flame;
And topazes and sapphires came,
And smouldering amethystine hues,
63
A glow of garden violets,
Or women's eyes love's sweet dew wets.
The flaming shapes for ever changed
As fixed they hung or widely ranged.
Like meteors some wide heaven spanned;
Like wisps some shot about the land;
And others moved their scrolls and curls,
Like waving skirts where lovely girls
Evolve from mazy minstrelsy
A moving silk-draped melody,
Dancing at the bridal-feast
Of some grand monarch of the east.
As fixed they hung or widely ranged.
Like meteors some wide heaven spanned;
Like wisps some shot about the land;
And others moved their scrolls and curls,
Like waving skirts where lovely girls
Evolve from mazy minstrelsy
A moving silk-draped melody,
Dancing at the bridal-feast
Of some grand monarch of the east.
Transcending in magnificence,
In beauty, and in eloquence
Of movement, and in variance
Of shapely forms, and in the dance
The loftiest height with poise of state
Maintaining easily, elate
Above the others sailing far,
Now beaming like an opal star,
Now like the rainbow's shifting bridge
Wheeling from mountain ridge to ridge,
And now expanding like the dawn,
Now like the northern lights, there shone
A glorious flame; and one bright form,
As grand in motion as a storm,
Exceeded symmetry. I knew
What these two were; but memory grew
A jumbled chaos when I hoped
To seize their names. While yet I groped
Within the darkened lumber-room
Of memory, a sound did loom
Upon my hearing, which till then
Had been a hollow empty den,
Its sense being stolen into my sight
To give it power to grasp the light.
Eftsoons the looming sound, evolved
Whence I perceived not then, resolved
Its misty volume into dew,
That rose and fell and rose anew,
And showering gently seemed to bear
Odours from Cytherea's hair,
Or from the thousand flowers that please
The vigilant Hesperides
Within their bower on Atlas' top,
Whose shoulders huge the heavens prop,
So dulcet was the harmony.
It rained into my memory,
And, freshening that fallow mead,
Awakened many a sleeping seed
That sprang and blossomed into flower,
A bell for every happy hour.
But yet my wakening intuition
That longed to execute its mission,
To call those two supremest flames,
Bloomed not in flower of their names.
In beauty, and in eloquence
Of movement, and in variance
Of shapely forms, and in the dance
The loftiest height with poise of state
Maintaining easily, elate
64
Now beaming like an opal star,
Now like the rainbow's shifting bridge
Wheeling from mountain ridge to ridge,
And now expanding like the dawn,
Now like the northern lights, there shone
A glorious flame; and one bright form,
As grand in motion as a storm,
Exceeded symmetry. I knew
What these two were; but memory grew
A jumbled chaos when I hoped
To seize their names. While yet I groped
Within the darkened lumber-room
Of memory, a sound did loom
Upon my hearing, which till then
Had been a hollow empty den,
Its sense being stolen into my sight
To give it power to grasp the light.
Eftsoons the looming sound, evolved
Whence I perceived not then, resolved
65
That rose and fell and rose anew,
And showering gently seemed to bear
Odours from Cytherea's hair,
Or from the thousand flowers that please
The vigilant Hesperides
Within their bower on Atlas' top,
Whose shoulders huge the heavens prop,
So dulcet was the harmony.
It rained into my memory,
And, freshening that fallow mead,
Awakened many a sleeping seed
That sprang and blossomed into flower,
A bell for every happy hour.
But yet my wakening intuition
That longed to execute its mission,
To call those two supremest flames,
Bloomed not in flower of their names.
Oh me! that airy melody!
Its memory distresses me,
Like old men's thoughts of love's first kiss,
Like damned imaginings of bliss.
No thrilling movement with me stays;
The shadow of one subtle phrase
Cools not the burning of desire;
Tears cannot quench that ardent fire;
So sweet and low the voices sung,
So deep and high the singing swung,
Or, like the bird of heaven, hung
In joyous swoon, on brooding wing
Intensely, stilly, hovering.
66
Like old men's thoughts of love's first kiss,
Like damned imaginings of bliss.
No thrilling movement with me stays;
The shadow of one subtle phrase
Cools not the burning of desire;
Tears cannot quench that ardent fire;
So sweet and low the voices sung,
So deep and high the singing swung,
Or, like the bird of heaven, hung
In joyous swoon, on brooding wing
Intensely, stilly, hovering.
Then far away across the vale
A sapphire sea with ripples pale
I saw: the golden, further shore
A group of wan lights wandered o'er
Hueless and shadowy: and I thought
That those the airy music wrought.
Sudden a great globe brimmed my sight,
And all my senses took their flight
To it to make it capable;
I was one eye and it was full,
But can a brazier hold the sun,
Or any cup the ocean?
A sapphire sea with ripples pale
I saw: the golden, further shore
A group of wan lights wandered o'er
Hueless and shadowy: and I thought
That those the airy music wrought.
Sudden a great globe brimmed my sight,
67
To it to make it capable;
I was one eye and it was full,
But can a brazier hold the sun,
Or any cup the ocean?
Menzies
None.
Basil
This splendour, now in mist diffused,
Hung like a cloud of diamond-dust;
Contracted to a point anon,
It still so luminously shone
Its dense light could be seen alone.
I was one eye, one questioning gaze:
At once the scintillating haze,
In answer to my inquisition
Appeared as two; and each division
68
Less bright divided than when married
Then straight the black gulf hung between
My aching sight and heaven's scene.
Brian
But this is nonsense triple-piled.
Herbert
Is nonsense then to be reviled?
Menzies
Not so; for fancy where it lists
Breathes like the wind: he who resists
His wanton moods for ever, ends
In being moodless.
Basil
Good, my friends,
Forgive, forget. The dream was long,
Too long.—Let some one sing a song.
69
Your bass is rusty, Herbert; come.
Herbert
I'll sing a song of Harvest-home.
SONG
The frost will bite us soon;
His tooth is on the leaves:
Beneath the golden moon
We bear the golden sheaves:
We care not for the winter's spite,
We keep our Harvest-home to-night.
His tooth is on the leaves:
Beneath the golden moon
We bear the golden sheaves:
We care not for the winter's spite,
We keep our Harvest-home to-night.
Hurrah for the English yeoman!
Fill full, fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
Fill full, fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
The pleasure of a king,
Is tasteless to the mirth
Of peasants when they bring
The harvest of the earth.
With pipe and tabor hither roam
All ye who love our Harvest-home.
Is tasteless to the mirth
70
The harvest of the earth.
With pipe and tabor hither roam
All ye who love our Harvest-home.
Hurrah for the English yeoman!
Fill full; fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
Fill full; fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
The thresher with his flail,
The shepherd with his crook,
The milkmaid with her pail,
The reaper with his hook—
To-night the dullest blooded clods
Are kings and queens, are demigods.
The shepherd with his crook,
The milkmaid with her pail,
The reaper with his hook—
To-night the dullest blooded clods
Are kings and queens, are demigods.
Hurrah for the English yeoman!
Fill full; fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
Fill full; fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!
| Fleet Street Eclogues | |