 | Ballads of the North and Other Poems |  |
69
THE GLASTONBURY THORN.
My son, thou sayest that thy life
Is past its blossom time,
And thou hast neither fruit nor flower
To show for all its prime;
Is past its blossom time,
And thou hast neither fruit nor flower
To show for all its prime;
That thou hast watched and waited long,
Nor spared to toil and pray,
And nought for all thy strife remains,
But to be cast away.
Nor spared to toil and pray,
And nought for all thy strife remains,
But to be cast away.
Now listen what to me befell
When all the year was past,
And in the winter what a grace
Was brought to me at last.
When all the year was past,
And in the winter what a grace
Was brought to me at last.
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For I was old, and all my house
Were sleeping in the tomb,
When came the Word of God to me
To leave my fathers' home.
Were sleeping in the tomb,
When came the Word of God to me
To leave my fathers' home.
I took my staff, and all alone
I wandered to the west;
A long and weary pilgrimage,
Till God should bid me rest.
I wandered to the west;
A long and weary pilgrimage,
Till God should bid me rest.
I passed by sea, I passed by land,
I found strange folk and wild,
Until one day before my feet
This Vale at sunset smiled.
I found strange folk and wild,
Until one day before my feet
This Vale at sunset smiled.
The voice within spake suddenly,
‘Here is thy place to dwell:’
I struck my staff into the ground,
And here I built my cell.
‘Here is thy place to dwell:’
I struck my staff into the ground,
And here I built my cell.
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I cleared a little space of earth
Beside it either hand,
And planted in my garden plot
The flowers of Holy Land.
Beside it either hand,
And planted in my garden plot
The flowers of Holy Land.
Oh, sweet and soft with mist and rain
Is all this island air;
The little birds among the boughs
Make music everywhere.
Is all this island air;
The little birds among the boughs
Make music everywhere.
And when the streams in Spring unbind,
Trickling the moors across,
The violets blue, the violets white,
Are hidden in the moss.
Trickling the moors across,
The violets blue, the violets white,
Are hidden in the moss.
The people came about my door,
A simple woodland race,
And many a meal I shared with them
In many a dwelling-place.
A simple woodland race,
And many a meal I shared with them
In many a dwelling-place.
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I spake to them of Christ the Lord,
And of the things I knew;
They listened, and they made no sign,
No faith among them grew.
And of the things I knew;
They listened, and they made no sign,
No faith among them grew.
But soon my garden flowers took root
With little care or toil,
And flourished through the summer months
Upon the stranger soil.
With little care or toil,
And flourished through the summer months
Upon the stranger soil.
Anemones in April days
Of silver shower and shine
Were messengers from scarlet fields
Of spring in Palestine.
Of silver shower and shine
Were messengers from scarlet fields
Of spring in Palestine.
And starry-pointed, white and gold,
The pale narcissus head,
Along the shady bank in May,
A foreign fragrance shed.
The pale narcissus head,
Along the shady bank in May,
A foreign fragrance shed.
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The rosemary put forth in June
Her shoots both sweet and strong;
I thought of burning rocky paths
The desert sides along.
Her shoots both sweet and strong;
I thought of burning rocky paths
The desert sides along.
Oh, glorious white as heaven's own light,
The Lily rose, a Queen:
A sun by day, a star by night,
Glimmering my prayers between.
The Lily rose, a Queen:
A sun by day, a star by night,
Glimmering my prayers between.
And when the hot and cloudless sky
Lay over field and fold,
In August, in the harvest time,
Flamed forth the marigold.
Lay over field and fold,
In August, in the harvest time,
Flamed forth the marigold.
O Mary! Mary! at thy name
My head in dreams is bowed;
I muse upon thy face with thoughts
I cannot speak aloud,
My head in dreams is bowed;
I muse upon thy face with thoughts
I cannot speak aloud,
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The far-off years roll back, my soul
Across the bitter sea
Returns, and there is only one
Day of all days for me.
Across the bitter sea
Returns, and there is only one
Day of all days for me.
O Mary! Mary! for my loss
I mourn until I die;
The very thieves and murderers had
A better place than I.
I mourn until I die;
The very thieves and murderers had
A better place than I.
Yet I too had my turn at last,
I who awoke too late;
The lowest of thy servants still
Outside the door may wait,
I who awoke too late;
The lowest of thy servants still
Outside the door may wait,
And find forgiveness in his task;
Yea, even unto me
Was granted gift my heart must keep
In mute humility.
Yea, even unto me
Was granted gift my heart must keep
In mute humility.
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O Mary! Mary! I have seen!
It cannot pass away;
Thy face is living in my heart
For ever, night and day.
It cannot pass away;
Thy face is living in my heart
For ever, night and day.
Oh, on one night of wondrous light,
Thy Babe upon thy knee,
When first He smiled, O mother mild,
One Joseph stood by thee.
Thy Babe upon thy knee,
When first He smiled, O mother mild,
One Joseph stood by thee.
But I, another Joseph, stood
Beside thee at the end;
And when thine arms took back their own,
Did I thy will attend.
Beside thee at the end;
And when thine arms took back their own,
Did I thy will attend.
Another night—oh, such a night
Again earth will not see!—
For that night's sake forget me not,
Until I come to thee!
Again earth will not see!—
For that night's sake forget me not,
Until I come to thee!
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I wander far, I lose myself;—
What was the flower, the last,
That told me that the summer days
In this green land were past?
What was the flower, the last,
That told me that the summer days
In this green land were past?
I think it was the myrtle soft,
I sheltered by the wall,
That flower of fate that blooms so late,
For maiden's coronal.
I sheltered by the wall,
That flower of fate that blooms so late,
For maiden's coronal.
But when the time of flowers was past,
And Autumn leaves were sere,
Darkness drew on, and all the wold
With wailing winds was drear.
And Autumn leaves were sere,
Darkness drew on, and all the wold
With wailing winds was drear.
Early the Winter settled down,
The snow fell thick and deep,
The birds were hushed, the frozen rills
Were bound in glassy sleep.
The snow fell thick and deep,
The birds were hushed, the frozen rills
Were bound in glassy sleep.
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And when at last drew nigh at hand
The holy Christmas Eve,
A pathless wilderness of white
Was all I could perceive.
The holy Christmas Eve,
A pathless wilderness of white
Was all I could perceive.
I was alone, and not a step
For many weeks had crossed
The buried moors, and I of men
Forgotten seemed, and lost.
For many weeks had crossed
The buried moors, and I of men
Forgotten seemed, and lost.
My food was spent; for many days
I had not broken fast;
A little bird whose breast was red
Had shared my crumbs—the last.
I had not broken fast;
A little bird whose breast was red
Had shared my crumbs—the last.
And now it seemed my time was come
My labour to forsake;
And sadly and in tears I knelt,
And to my Master spake,—
My labour to forsake;
And sadly and in tears I knelt,
And to my Master spake,—
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‘Lord, Thou hast set me here to sow
The seed of faith for Thee;
I sow in vain, I may not reap,
Nor blade, nor corn I see.
The seed of faith for Thee;
I sow in vain, I may not reap,
Nor blade, nor corn I see.
‘Thou callest me, and I must come
Out of Thy garden ground,
With empty hands, and incomplete,
Once more defaulting found.
Out of Thy garden ground,
With empty hands, and incomplete,
Once more defaulting found.
‘I know I shall forget my fault,
When once I see Thy face;
But, Lord, this is one bitter hour
For the lost time of grace.’
When once I see Thy face;
But, Lord, this is one bitter hour
For the lost time of grace.’
Then at midnight, all silently,
A spirit drew me forth;
The three bright stars high overhead
Were pointing to the North.
A spirit drew me forth;
The three bright stars high overhead
Were pointing to the North.
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But a strange glow was in the air,
Vibrating sparks and strings,
And all the midnight was alive
With throbbing souls of things.
Vibrating sparks and strings,
And all the midnight was alive
With throbbing souls of things.
A quivering pulse of blood-red flame
Leapt up the heavenly height,
And soft and swift the rosy fire
Played in and out the night.
Leapt up the heavenly height,
And soft and swift the rosy fire
Played in and out the night.
And all the world was lighted up,
I could not see from whence;
I heard strange music in my ears,
I could not catch its sense.
I could not see from whence;
I heard strange music in my ears,
I could not catch its sense.
The snow blushed crimson fitfully,
Like water turned to wine;
I stepped into the open air,
And saw a wondrous sign.
Like water turned to wine;
I stepped into the open air,
And saw a wondrous sign.
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For there my staff of pilgrimage,
That in the ground stood fast,
Had shot into a living stem,
Whose boughs were outward cast;
That in the ground stood fast,
Had shot into a living stem,
Whose boughs were outward cast;
And every branch was quick with leaf,
And bud and flower and thorn;
Beneath my gaze in still amaze
The opening blooms were born.
And bud and flower and thorn;
Beneath my gaze in still amaze
The opening blooms were born.
O tree so bright 'mid snowy white,
How didst thou smile on me:
The Master at the Feast to-night
Hath not forgotten thee!
How didst thou smile on me:
The Master at the Feast to-night
Hath not forgotten thee!
And when the Northern Lights had died,
And night lay still and deep,
My eyes for very blissfulness
Did close themselves in sleep.
And night lay still and deep,
My eyes for very blissfulness
Did close themselves in sleep.
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I cannot tell what voices near
In sleep conversed with mine;
I do not know if angels came
To bring me bread and wine.
In sleep conversed with mine;
I do not know if angels came
To bring me bread and wine.
But I lived on, I wanted not,
I was not left alone;
Our Master needs no other help
When He would feed His own.
I was not left alone;
Our Master needs no other help
When He would feed His own.
And the next spring, at Easter-tide,
When the soft ferns unrolled,
And all the moorland sea of gorse
Tossed its fresh waves of gold,
When the soft ferns unrolled,
And all the moorland sea of gorse
Tossed its fresh waves of gold,
A thousand souls with one accord
Came to the water's side,
And bowed themselves beneath the Sign
Of Christ the Crucified.
Came to the water's side,
And bowed themselves beneath the Sign
Of Christ the Crucified.
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And since that day a thousandfold
The word has borne increase;
This fair and fruitful country lies
All in one bond of peace.
The word has borne increase;
This fair and fruitful country lies
All in one bond of peace.
They have not seen what I have seen,
They have not touched the Hand;
Blessèd are they, because by faith
They love and understand.
They have not touched the Hand;
Blessèd are they, because by faith
They love and understand.
O Lord, Thy purpose does not fail,
The work is Thine alone;
All times are harvest times with Thee:
Enough, to be Thine own.
The work is Thine alone;
All times are harvest times with Thee:
Enough, to be Thine own.
| Ballads of the North and Other Poems | |