 | [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer |  |
EARLY POEMS
231
IN A BOOK-SHOP
All day I serve among the volumes telling
Old tales of love and war and high romance;
Good company, God wot, is in them dwelling,
Brave knights who dared to scorn untoward chance.
Old tales of love and war and high romance;
Good company, God wot, is in them dwelling,
Brave knights who dared to scorn untoward chance.
King Arthur—Sidney—Copperfield—the daring
And friendly souls of Meredith's bright page—
The Pilgrim on his darksome journey faring,
And Shakespeare's heroes, great in love and rage.
And friendly souls of Meredith's bright page—
The Pilgrim on his darksome journey faring,
And Shakespeare's heroes, great in love and rage.
Fair ladies, too—here Beatricè smiling
Through hell leads Dante to the happy stars;
And Heloise, the cruel guards beguiling,
With Abelard makes mock of convent bars.
Through hell leads Dante to the happy stars;
And Heloise, the cruel guards beguiling,
With Abelard makes mock of convent bars.
Yet when night comes I leave these folks with pleasure
To open Love's great summer-scented tome
Within whose pages—precious beyond measure—
My own White Flower Lady hath her home.
To open Love's great summer-scented tome
Within whose pages—precious beyond measure—
My own White Flower Lady hath her home.
232
SLENDER YOUR HANDS
Slender your hands and soft and white
As petals of moon-kissed roses;
Yet the grasp of your fingers slight
My passionate heart encloses.
As petals of moon-kissed roses;
Yet the grasp of your fingers slight
My passionate heart encloses.
Innocent eyes like delicate spheres
That are born when day is dying;
Yet the wisdom of all the years
Is in their lovelight lying.
That are born when day is dying;
Yet the wisdom of all the years
Is in their lovelight lying.
233
SLEEP SONG
The Lady World
Is sleeping on her white and cloudy bed.
Like petals furled
Her eyelids close. Beside her dream-filled head
Her lover stands in silver cloak and shoon,
The faithful Moon.
Is sleeping on her white and cloudy bed.
Like petals furled
Her eyelids close. Beside her dream-filled head
Her lover stands in silver cloak and shoon,
The faithful Moon.
So Love, my Love,
Sleep on, my Love, my Life, be not afraid.
The Moon above
Shall guard the World, and I my little maid.
Your life, your love, your dreams are mine to keep,
So sleep, so sleep.
Sleep on, my Love, my Life, be not afraid.
The Moon above
Shall guard the World, and I my little maid.
Your life, your love, your dreams are mine to keep,
So sleep, so sleep.
234
WHITE BIRD OF LOVE
Little white bird of the summer sky,
Silver against the golden sun,
Over the green of the hills you fly,
You and the sweet, wild air are one.
Silver against the golden sun,
Over the green of the hills you fly,
You and the sweet, wild air are one.
Glorious sights are in that far place
Reached by your daisy-petal wing,
Rose-coloured meteors dive through space,
Stars made of molten music sing.
Reached by your daisy-petal wing,
Rose-coloured meteors dive through space,
Stars made of molten music sing.
Still, though your quivering eager flight
Reaches the groves by Heaven town,
Where all the angels cry out, “Alight!
Stop, little bird, come down, come down!”
Reaches the groves by Heaven town,
Where all the angels cry out, “Alight!
Stop, little bird, come down, come down!”
Careless you speed over fields of stars,
Darting through Heaven swift and free;
Nothing your arrowy passage bars
Back to the earth and back to me.
Darting through Heaven swift and free;
Nothing your arrowy passage bars
Back to the earth and back to me.
Here in the orchard of dream-fruit fair
Out of my dreams is built your nest.
Blossoming dreams all the branches bear,
Fit for my silver dream-bird's rest.
Out of my dreams is built your nest.
Blossoming dreams all the branches bear,
Fit for my silver dream-bird's rest.
235
Here, since they love you, the young stars shine,
Through the white petals come their beams.
Little white love-laden bird of mine,
Let them shine on you through my dreams.
Through the white petals come their beams.
Little white love-laden bird of mine,
Let them shine on you through my dreams.
236
TRANSFIGURATION
If it should be my task, I being God,
From whirling atoms to evolve your mate,
With hands omnipotent I should create
A great-souled hero, with the starlight shod.
The subject worlds should tremble at his nod
And all the angel host upon him wait,
Yet he should leave his pomp and splendid state
And kneel to kiss the ground whereon you trod.
From whirling atoms to evolve your mate,
With hands omnipotent I should create
A great-souled hero, with the starlight shod.
The subject worlds should tremble at his nod
And all the angel host upon him wait,
Yet he should leave his pomp and splendid state
And kneel to kiss the ground whereon you trod.
But God, who like a little child is wise,
Made me, a common thing of earthly clay;
Then bade me go and see within your eyes
The flame of love that burns more bright than day,
And as I looked I knew with wild surprise
I was transformed—your heart in my heart lay.
Made me, a common thing of earthly clay;
Then bade me go and see within your eyes
The flame of love that burns more bright than day,
And as I looked I knew with wild surprise
I was transformed—your heart in my heart lay.
237
BALLADE OF MY LADY'S BEAUTY
Squire ADAM had two wives, they say,
Two wives had he, for his delight,
He kissed and clypt them all the day
And clypt and kissed them all the night.
Now Eve like ocean foam was white
And Lilith roses dipped in wine,
But though they were a goodly sight
No lady is so fair as mine.
Two wives had he, for his delight,
He kissed and clypt them all the day
And clypt and kissed them all the night.
Now Eve like ocean foam was white
And Lilith roses dipped in wine,
But though they were a goodly sight
No lady is so fair as mine.
To Venus some folk tribute pay
And Queen of Beauty she is hight,
And Sainte Marie the world doth sway
In cerule napery bedight.
My wonderment these twain invite,
Their comeliness it is divine,
And yet I say in their despite,
No lady is so fair as mine.
And Queen of Beauty she is hight,
And Sainte Marie the world doth sway
In cerule napery bedight.
My wonderment these twain invite,
Their comeliness it is divine,
And yet I say in their despite,
No lady is so fair as mine.
Dame Helen caused a grievous fray,
For love of her brave men did fight,
The eyes of her made sages fey
And put their hearts in woful plight.
To her no rhymes will I indite,
For her no garlands will I twine,
Though she be made of flowers and light
No lady is so fair as mine.
For love of her brave men did fight,
The eyes of her made sages fey
And put their hearts in woful plight.
238
For her no garlands will I twine,
Though she be made of flowers and light
No lady is so fair as mine.
L'ENVOI
Prince Eros, Lord of lovely might
Who on Olympus dost recline,
Do I not tell the truth aright?
No lady is so fair as mine.
Who on Olympus dost recline,
Do I not tell the truth aright?
No lady is so fair as mine.
239
FOR A BIRTHDAY
April with her violets,
May and June with roses,
Young July with all her flowers, crimson, gold and white,
Each in place her tribute sets,
Each her wreath composes,
Making glad the roadway for the Lady of Delight.
May and June with roses,
Young July with all her flowers, crimson, gold and white,
Each in place her tribute sets,
Each her wreath composes,
Making glad the roadway for the Lady of Delight.
Birds with many colours gay,
Through the branches flitting,
Sing, to greet my Lady Love, a lusty welcome song.
Even bees make holiday,
Hive and honey quitting,
Tremulous and jubilant they join the eager throng.
Through the branches flitting,
Sing, to greet my Lady Love, a lusty welcome song.
Even bees make holiday,
Hive and honey quitting,
Tremulous and jubilant they join the eager throng.
Now the road is flower-paved;
Timid fawns are peering
From their pleasant vantage in the roadside's leafy green.
All the world in sunlight laved,
Knows the hour is nearing
That shall bring the golden presence of the well-loved Queen.
Timid fawns are peering
From their pleasant vantage in the roadside's leafy green.
240
Knows the hour is nearing
That shall bring the golden presence of the well-loved Queen.
Hark! at last the silver trill
Of a lute is sounding—
Happy August, purple-clad, appears with all her train.
Sudden sweet the branches fill;
Every heart is bounding;
August comes, the kindly nurse of her who is to reign!
Of a lute is sounding—
Happy August, purple-clad, appears with all her train.
Sudden sweet the branches fill;
Every heart is bounding;
August comes, the kindly nurse of her who is to reign!
And now, with proud and valiant gait,
An hundred centaurs come.
Pan rides the foremost one in state;
The waiting crowd grows dumb.
Each centaur wears a jewelled thong
And harness bright of sheen;
They draw through surging floods of song
The carriage of the Queen!
An hundred centaurs come.
Pan rides the foremost one in state;
The waiting crowd grows dumb.
Each centaur wears a jewelled thong
And harness bright of sheen;
They draw through surging floods of song
The carriage of the Queen!
“Hail! Hail! Hail! to the Queen in her moonstone car!
Hail! Hail! Hail! to the Lady whose slaves we are!
We of the meadows, the rocks and the hills,
Dwellers in oceans and rivers and rills,
Beasts of the forests and birds of the air,
Linnet and butterfly, lion and bear,
Daisy and daffodill, spruce-tree and fir,
Yield to our Queen and do homage to her!
Hail! Hail! Hail! we welcome thy royal sway!
Hail! Hail! Hail! O Queen, on this festal day!”
Hail! Hail! Hail! to the Lady whose slaves we are!
241
Dwellers in oceans and rivers and rills,
Beasts of the forests and birds of the air,
Linnet and butterfly, lion and bear,
Daisy and daffodill, spruce-tree and fir,
Yield to our Queen and do homage to her!
Hail! Hail! Hail! we welcome thy royal sway!
Hail! Hail! Hail! O Queen, on this festal day!”
So all the world kneels down to you,
And all things are your own;
Now let a humble rhymer sue
Before your crystal throne.
Fair Queen, at your rose-petal feet
Bid me to live and die!
Not all your world of lovers, Sweet,
Can love so much as I.
And all things are your own;
Now let a humble rhymer sue
Before your crystal throne.
Fair Queen, at your rose-petal feet
Bid me to live and die!
Not all your world of lovers, Sweet,
Can love so much as I.
242
WAYFARERS
Underneath the orchard trees lies a gypsy sleeping,
Tattered cloak and swarthy face and shaggy moonlit hair;
One brown hand his crazy fiddle in its grasp is keeping,
Through the Land of Dreams he strolls and sings his love songs there.
Tattered cloak and swarthy face and shaggy moonlit hair;
One brown hand his crazy fiddle in its grasp is keeping,
Through the Land of Dreams he strolls and sings his love songs there.
Up above the apple blossoms where the stars are shining,
Free and careless wandering among the clouds he goes,
Singing of his lady-love and for her pleasure twining
Wreaths of Heaven flowers, violet and golden rose.
Free and careless wandering among the clouds he goes,
Singing of his lady-love and for her pleasure twining
Wreaths of Heaven flowers, violet and golden rose.
In his sleep he stirs, and wakes to find his love beside him,
Pours his load of Dreamland blooms before her silver feet,
Takes her in his arms and as her soft brown tresses hide him
Both together fare to Dreamland up the star-paved street.
Pours his load of Dreamland blooms before her silver feet,
243
Both together fare to Dreamland up the star-paved street.
244
PRINCESS BALLADE
Never a horn sounds in Sherwood to-night,
Friar Tuck's drinking Olympian ale,
Little John's wandered away from our sight,
Robin Hood's bow hangs unused on its nail.
Even the moon has grown weary and pale
Sick for the glint of Maid Marian's hair,
But there is one joy on mountain and dale,
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
Friar Tuck's drinking Olympian ale,
Little John's wandered away from our sight,
Robin Hood's bow hangs unused on its nail.
Even the moon has grown weary and pale
Sick for the glint of Maid Marian's hair,
But there is one joy on mountain and dale,
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
Saints have attacked them with sacredest might,
They could not shatter their gossamer mail;
Steam-driven engines can never affright
Fairies who dance in their spark-sprinkled trail.
Still for a warning the sad Banshees wail,
Still are the Leprechauns ready to bear
Purses of gold to their captors for bail;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
They could not shatter their gossamer mail;
Steam-driven engines can never affright
Fairies who dance in their spark-sprinkled trail.
Still for a warning the sad Banshees wail,
Still are the Leprechauns ready to bear
Purses of gold to their captors for bail;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
Oberon, king of the realms of delight,
May your domain over us never fail.
Mab, as a rainbow-hued butterfly bright,
Yours is the glory that age cannot stale.
When we are planted down under the shale,
Fairy-folk, drop a few daffodils there,
Comfort our souls in the Stygian vale;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere.
May your domain over us never fail.
Mab, as a rainbow-hued butterfly bright,
Yours is the glory that age cannot stale.
245
Fairy-folk, drop a few daffodils there,
Comfort our souls in the Stygian vale;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere.
L'ENVOI
White Flower Princess, though sophisters rail,
Let us be glad in faith that we share.
None shall the Good People safely assail;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
Let us be glad in faith that we share.
None shall the Good People safely assail;
Fairies abound all the time, everywhere!
246
LULLABY FOR A BABY FAIRY
Night is over; through the clover globes of crystal shine;
Birds are calling; sunlight falling on the wet green vine.
Little wings must folded lie, little lips be still
While the sun is in the sky, over Fairy Hill.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
Baby with buttercup hair,
Golden rays
Into the violet creep.
Dream, dream deep;
Dream of the night-revels fair.
Daylight stays;
Sleep, little fairy child, sleep.
Birds are calling; sunlight falling on the wet green vine.
Little wings must folded lie, little lips be still
While the sun is in the sky, over Fairy Hill.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
Baby with buttercup hair,
Golden rays
Into the violet creep.
Dream, dream deep;
Dream of the night-revels fair.
Daylight stays;
Sleep, little fairy child, sleep.
Rest in daytime; night is playtime, all good fairies know.
Under sighing grasses lying, off to slumber go.
Night will come with stars agleam, lilies in her hand,
Calling you from Hills of Dream back to Fairyland.
Sleep, sleep, sleep,
Baby with buttercup hair;
Golden rays
Into the violet creep.
Dream, dream deep;
Dream of the night-revels fair.
Daylight stays;
Sleep, little fairy child, sleep.
Under sighing grasses lying, off to slumber go.
Night will come with stars agleam, lilies in her hand,
Calling you from Hills of Dream back to Fairyland.
247
Baby with buttercup hair;
Golden rays
Into the violet creep.
Dream, dream deep;
Dream of the night-revels fair.
Daylight stays;
Sleep, little fairy child, sleep.
248
A DEAD POET
Fair Death, kind Death, it was a gracious deedTo take that weary vagrant to thy breast.
Love, Song and Wine had he, and but one need—Rest.
249
THE MAD FIDDLER
I sleep beneath a bracken sheet
In sunlight or in rain,
The road dust burns my naked feet,
The sunrays sear my brain;
But children love my fiddle's sound
And if a lad be straying,
His mother knows he may be found
Where old Mad Larry's playing.
In sunlight or in rain,
The road dust burns my naked feet,
The sunrays sear my brain;
But children love my fiddle's sound
And if a lad be straying,
His mother knows he may be found
Where old Mad Larry's playing.
O fiddle, let us follow, follow,
Till we see my Eileen's face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
Off she flew to some far place.
Till we see my Eileen's face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
Off she flew to some far place.
O, did you ever love a lass?
I loved a lass one day,
And she would lie upon the grass
And sing while I would play.
She was a cruel, lovely thing,
Nor heart nor soul have I,
For Eileen took them that soft spring
When she flew to the sky.
I loved a lass one day,
And she would lie upon the grass
And sing while I would play.
She was a cruel, lovely thing,
Nor heart nor soul have I,
For Eileen took them that soft spring
When she flew to the sky.
250
So fiddle, let us follow, follow,
Till we see my Eileen's face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
Off she flew to some far place.
Till we see my Eileen's face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
Off she flew to some far place.
251
THE GRASS IN MADISON SQUARE
The pleasant turf is dried and marred and seared,
The grass is dead.
No soft green shoot, by rain and sunshine reared,
Lifts up its head.
The grass is dead.
No soft green shoot, by rain and sunshine reared,
Lifts up its head.
I think the grass that made the park so gay
In early spring
Now decks the lawns of Heaven where babies play
And dance and sing.
In early spring
Now decks the lawns of Heaven where babies play
And dance and sing.
And poor old vagabonds who now have left
The dusty street,
Find fields of which they were in life bereft,
Beneath their feet.
The dusty street,
Find fields of which they were in life bereft,
Beneath their feet.
252
SAID THE ROSE
No flower hath so fair a face as this pale love of mine;
When he bends down to kiss my heart, my petals try to twine
About his lips to hold them fast. He is so very fair,
My lover with the pale, sad face and forest-fragrant hair.
When he bends down to kiss my heart, my petals try to twine
About his lips to hold them fast. He is so very fair,
My lover with the pale, sad face and forest-fragrant hair.
I think it is a pleasant place, this garden where I grow,
With gravel walks and grassy mounds and crosses in a row.
There is no toil nor worry here, nor clatter of the street,
And here each night my lover comes, pale, sad and very sweet.
With gravel walks and grassy mounds and crosses in a row.
There is no toil nor worry here, nor clatter of the street,
And here each night my lover comes, pale, sad and very sweet.
He never heeds the violets or lilies tall and white;
I am his love, his only love, his Flower of Delight;
And often when the cold moonbeams are lying all around
My lover kneels the whole night through beside me on the ground.
I am his love, his only love, his Flower of Delight;
And often when the cold moonbeams are lying all around
My lover kneels the whole night through beside me on the ground.
253
How can I miss the sunshine-laden breezes of the south
When all my heart is burning with the kisses of his mouth?
How can I miss the coming of the comfort-bringing rain
When his hot tears are filling me with heaven-sweet love-pain?
When all my heart is burning with the kisses of his mouth?
How can I miss the coming of the comfort-bringing rain
When his hot tears are filling me with heaven-sweet love-pain?
There is a jealous little bird that envies me my love,
He sings this bitter, bitter song from his brown nest above:
“Was ever yet a mortal man who wed a flower wife?
He loves the girl down in your roots whose dead breast gives you life.”
He sings this bitter, bitter song from his brown nest above:
“Was ever yet a mortal man who wed a flower wife?
He loves the girl down in your roots whose dead breast gives you life.”
O little bird, O jealous bird, fly off and cease your chatter!
My lover is my lover, and what can a dead girl matter?
In his hot kisses and sweet tears I shall my petals steep;
I am his love, his only love, I have his heart to keep.
My lover is my lover, and what can a dead girl matter?
In his hot kisses and sweet tears I shall my petals steep;
I am his love, his only love, I have his heart to keep.
254
METAMORPHOSIS
He was an evil thing to see—
Of joy his mouth was desolate;
His body was a stunted tree,
His eyes were pools of lust and hate.
Of joy his mouth was desolate;
His body was a stunted tree,
His eyes were pools of lust and hate.
Now silverly the linnet sings
On leaves that from his temples start,
And gay the yellow crocus springs
From the rich clod that was his heart.
On leaves that from his temples start,
And gay the yellow crocus springs
From the rich clod that was his heart.
255
FOR A CHILD
His mind has neither need nor power to knowThe foolish things that men call right and wrong.
For him the streams of pleasant love-wind flow,
For him the mystic, sleep-compelling song.
Through love he rules his love-made universe,
And sees with eyes by ignorance made keen
The fauns and elves whom older eyes disperse,
Great Pan and all the fairies with their queen.
King gods, I pray, bestow on him this dole,
Not wisdom, wealth, nor mighty deeds to do,
But let him keep his happy pagan soul,
The poet-vision, simple, free and true,
To hunt the rainbow-gold and phantom lights,
And meet with dryads on the wooded heights.
256
THE CLOUDED SUN
(To A. S.)
It is not good for poets to grow old,
For they serve Death that loves and Love that kills;
And Love and Death, enthroned above the hills,
Call back their faithful servants to the fold
Before Age makes them passionless and cold.
For they serve Death that loves and Love that kills;
And Love and Death, enthroned above the hills,
Call back their faithful servants to the fold
Before Age makes them passionless and cold.
Therefore it is that no more sorry thing
Can shut the sunlight from the thirsty grass
Than some grey head through which no longer pass
Wild dreams more lively than the scent of Spring
To fire the blood and make the glad mouth sing.
Can shut the sunlight from the thirsty grass
Than some grey head through which no longer pass
Wild dreams more lively than the scent of Spring
To fire the blood and make the glad mouth sing.
Far happier he, who, young and full of pride
And radiant with the glory of the sun,
Leaves earth before his singing time is done.
All wounds of Time the graveyard flowers hide,
His beauty lives, as fresh as when he died.
And radiant with the glory of the sun,
Leaves earth before his singing time is done.
All wounds of Time the graveyard flowers hide,
His beauty lives, as fresh as when he died.
Then through the words wherein his spirit dwells
The world may see his young impetuous face
Unmarred by Time, with undiminished grace;
While memory no piteous story tells
Of barren days, stale loves and broken spells.
The world may see his young impetuous face
Unmarred by Time, with undiminished grace;
While memory no piteous story tells
Of barren days, stale loves and broken spells.
257
Brother and Master, we are wed with woe.
Yea, Grief's funereal cloud it is that hovers
About the head of us, thy mournful lovers.
Uncomforted and sick with pain we go,
Dust on our brows and at our hearts the snow.
Yea, Grief's funereal cloud it is that hovers
About the head of us, thy mournful lovers.
Uncomforted and sick with pain we go,
Dust on our brows and at our hearts the snow.
The London lights flare on the chattering street,
Young men and maidens love and dance and die;
Wine flows, and the perfumes float up to the sky.
Once thou couldst feel that this was very sweet,
Now thou art still—mouth, hands and weary feet.
Young men and maidens love and dance and die;
Wine flows, and the perfumes float up to the sky.
Once thou couldst feel that this was very sweet,
Now thou art still—mouth, hands and weary feet.
O subtle mouth, whereon the Sphinx has placed
The smile of those she kisses at their birth,
Sing once again, for Spring has thrilled the earth.
Nay, thou art dumb. Not even April's taste
Is sweet to thee in thy live coffin cased.
The smile of those she kisses at their birth,
Sing once again, for Spring has thrilled the earth.
Nay, thou art dumb. Not even April's taste
Is sweet to thee in thy live coffin cased.
There is no harsher tragedy than this—
That thou, who feltest as no man before
Scent, colour, taste and sound and didst outpour
For us rich draughts of thine enchanted bliss
Shouldst be plunged down this cruel black abyss.
That thou, who feltest as no man before
Scent, colour, taste and sound and didst outpour
For us rich draughts of thine enchanted bliss
Shouldst be plunged down this cruel black abyss.
258
Brother and Master, if our love could free
Thy flameborne spirit from its leaden chain,
Thou shouldst rise up from this sad house of pain,
Be young and fair as thou wast wont to be,
And strong with joy as is the boundless sea.
Thy flameborne spirit from its leaden chain,
Thou shouldst rise up from this sad house of pain,
Be young and fair as thou wast wont to be,
And strong with joy as is the boundless sea.
Brother and Master, at thy feet we lay
These roses, red as lips that thou hast sung,
To mingle with the green and fragrant bay,
And cypress wreaths above thy head are hung.
We kneel awhile, then turn in tears away.
These roses, red as lips that thou hast sung,
To mingle with the green and fragrant bay,
And cypress wreaths above thy head are hung.
We kneel awhile, then turn in tears away.
259
THE POET'S EPITAPH
Dreams fade with morning light,
Never a morn for thee,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Never a morn for thee,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Over our earthly sight
Shadows of woe must be;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Shadows of woe must be;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Soldiers awake to fight—
Thou art from strife set free,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Thou art from strife set free,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Day breaketh, cruel, white,
Lovely the forms that flee;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Lovely the forms that flee;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Thine is the sure delight,
Sleep-visions still to see,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Sleep-visions still to see,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Pity us from thy height,
Dawn-haunted slaves are we;
Dreams fade with morning light,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Dawn-haunted slaves are we;
Dreams fade with morning light,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
260
BEAUTY'S HAIR
A gleam of light across the night,
I know that you are there;
The heavens show the lovely glow
Of your transcendent hair,
Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair.
I know that you are there;
The heavens show the lovely glow
Of your transcendent hair,
Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair.
I'll take my silver javelin
And point it with a star,
For I have vowed to climb a cloud
And reach to where you are.
My javelin's barb shall pierce your hair
And pin it to the sky,
And I will run to the island sun
Where captive you will lie,
And then I shall dare to touch your hair,
To steal a tress of your magic hair,
And bring to the world a tress of hair
And win the world thereby.
And point it with a star,
For I have vowed to climb a cloud
And reach to where you are.
My javelin's barb shall pierce your hair
And pin it to the sky,
And I will run to the island sun
Where captive you will lie,
And then I shall dare to touch your hair,
To steal a tress of your magic hair,
And bring to the world a tress of hair
And win the world thereby.
Or shall I put on a green-sea cloak
With sunset laces trimmed,
And shine so gay that the dawn will say
That her radiance is dimmed?
There never was a lover could shine more fair
Than I in my cloak will shine;
And all for the sake of your merry hair,
Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair,
Your lovely, terrible, golden hair,
More sweet than love or wine.
With sunset laces trimmed,
And shine so gay that the dawn will say
That her radiance is dimmed?
There never was a lover could shine more fair
Than I in my cloak will shine;
261
Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair,
Your lovely, terrible, golden hair,
More sweet than love or wine.
A twisted bit of silver
Fell down and bruised my face.
What was it broke my broidered cloak
And tore the sunset lace?
I must be clad in sorrow
Because you are so gay,
And close my eyes if I would see
A whiter light than day.
So lofty is your golden hair,
I cannot climb to touch your hair,
I must kneel down to find your hair
Upon the trampled way.
Fell down and bruised my face.
What was it broke my broidered cloak
And tore the sunset lace?
I must be clad in sorrow
Because you are so gay,
And close my eyes if I would see
A whiter light than day.
So lofty is your golden hair,
I cannot climb to touch your hair,
I must kneel down to find your hair
Upon the trampled way.
262
THE WAY OF LOVE
(An Old Legend)
When darkness hovers over earth
And day gives place to night,
Then lovers see the Milky Way
Gleam mystically bright,
And calling it the Way of Love
They hail it with delight.
And day gives place to night,
Then lovers see the Milky Way
Gleam mystically bright,
And calling it the Way of Love
They hail it with delight.
She was a lady wondrous fair,
A right brave lover he,
And sooth they suffered grievous pain
And sorrowed mightily,
For they were parted during life
By leagues of land and sea.
A right brave lover he,
And sooth they suffered grievous pain
And sorrowed mightily,
For they were parted during life
By leagues of land and sea.
She died. Then Death came to the man.
He met him joyfully,
And said, “Thou Angel Death, well met!
Quick, do thy will with me,
That I may haste to greet my love
In Heaven's company.”
He met him joyfully,
And said, “Thou Angel Death, well met!
Quick, do thy will with me,
That I may haste to greet my love
In Heaven's company.”
263
Now on one side of Heaven he dwelt
And on the other, she;
And broad between them stretched sheer space
Whereon no way might be,
The empty, yawning, awful depth,
Unplumbed infinity.
And on the other, she;
And broad between them stretched sheer space
Whereon no way might be,
The empty, yawning, awful depth,
Unplumbed infinity.
The deathless spheric melody
Came gently to his ear,
And dulcet notes, the harmonies
Of Seraphs chanting near.
He heeded not for listening
His lady's voice to hear.
Came gently to his ear,
And dulcet notes, the harmonies
Of Seraphs chanting near.
He heeded not for listening
His lady's voice to hear.
The Saints and Martyrs round him ranged
A goodly company,
The Virgin, robed in radiance,
The Holy Trinity.
He heeded not, but strained his eyes
His lady's face to see.
A goodly company,
The Virgin, robed in radiance,
The Holy Trinity.
He heeded not, but strained his eyes
His lady's face to see.
At last from far across the void
Her voice came, faint and sweet.
The bright-hued walls of Paradise
Did the glad sound repeat;
The distant stars on which she stood
Shone bright beneath her feet.
Her voice came, faint and sweet.
The bright-hued walls of Paradise
Did the glad sound repeat;
The distant stars on which she stood
Shone bright beneath her feet.
264
“Dear Love,” she said, “Oh, come to me!
I cannot see your face.
O will not Lord Christ grant to us
To cross this sea of space?”
Then thrilled his heart with Love's own might.
He answered, by Love's grace.
I cannot see your face.
O will not Lord Christ grant to us
To cross this sea of space?”
Then thrilled his heart with Love's own might.
He answered, by Love's grace.
“The world is wide, and Heaven is wide,
From me to thee is far,
Alas! across Infinity
No passageways there are.
Sweetheart, I'll make my way to thee,
I'll build it, star by star!”
From me to thee is far,
Alas! across Infinity
No passageways there are.
Sweetheart, I'll make my way to thee,
I'll build it, star by star!”
Through all the curving vault of sky
His lusty blows rang out.
He smote the jewel-studded walls
And with a mighty shout
He tore the gleaming masonry
And posts that stood about.
His lusty blows rang out.
He smote the jewel-studded walls
And with a mighty shout
He tore the gleaming masonry
And posts that stood about.
He strove to build a massive bridge
That should the chasm span.
With heart upheld by hope and love
His great task he began,
And toiled and laboured doughtily
To work his God-like plan.
That should the chasm span.
With heart upheld by hope and love
His great task he began,
And toiled and laboured doughtily
To work his God-like plan.
265
He took the heavy beams of gold
That round him he did see;
The beryl, jacinth, sardius,
That shone so brilliantly,
And no fair jewel would he spare
So zealously worked he.
That round him he did see;
The beryl, jacinth, sardius,
That shone so brilliantly,
And no fair jewel would he spare
So zealously worked he.
He stole the gorgeous tinted stuffs
Whereof are sunsets made,
And his rude, grasping, eager hands
On little stars he laid;
To rob God's sacred treasure-house
He was no whit afraid.
Whereof are sunsets made,
And his rude, grasping, eager hands
On little stars he laid;
To rob God's sacred treasure-house
He was no whit afraid.
And so for centuries he worked.
Across the void at last
A bridge of precious mold did stand
Completed, strong and fast.
So now the faithful lovers met
And all their woe was past.
Across the void at last
A bridge of precious mold did stand
Completed, strong and fast.
So now the faithful lovers met
And all their woe was past.
But soon a shining angel guard
Sped to the throne of gold
And said, “Lord, see yon new-made bridge,
A mortal, overbold,
Has built it, scorning thy desire!”
Straightway the tale he told.
Sped to the throne of gold
And said, “Lord, see yon new-made bridge,
A mortal, overbold,
Has built it, scorning thy desire!”
Straightway the tale he told.
266
Then said: “Now, Master, Thou mayst see
The thing that has been wrought.
Speak, then, the word, stretch forth Thine hand
That with the speed of thought
This poor presumptuous work may fall
And crumble into naught.”
The thing that has been wrought.
Speak, then, the word, stretch forth Thine hand
That with the speed of thought
This poor presumptuous work may fall
And crumble into naught.”
God looked upon the angel then
And on the bridge below.
Then with His smile of majesty
He said: “Let all things know,
This bridge, which has by Love been built,
I will not overthrow.”
And on the bridge below.
Then with His smile of majesty
He said: “Let all things know,
This bridge, which has by Love been built,
I will not overthrow.”
When darkness hovers over earth
And day gives place to night,
Then lovers see the Milky Way
Gleam mystically bright,
And calling it the Way of Love,
They hail it with delight.
And day gives place to night,
Then lovers see the Milky Way
Gleam mystically bright,
And calling it the Way of Love,
They hail it with delight.
267
CHEVELY CROSSING
There two roads cross by Chevely town
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.
Among the pleasant flower-stars
By God's own garden gate,
A little maid fresh come from earth
One summer night did wait;
Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,
With fear her eyes were great.
By God's own garden gate,
A little maid fresh come from earth
One summer night did wait;
Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,
With fear her eyes were great.
The angels saw her sinless face,
The gate was opened wide.
She only shook her dawn-crowned head
And would not come inside.
She was alone, and so afraid—
She hid her face and cried.
The gate was opened wide.
She only shook her dawn-crowned head
And would not come inside.
She was alone, and so afraid—
She hid her face and cried.
268
Her tears dropped down like sun-filled rain
Through stars and starless space,
Until at last in Chevely town
Where in a moonlit place
Her lover knelt upon her grave,
They fell upon his face.
Through stars and starless space,
Until at last in Chevely town
Where in a moonlit place
Her lover knelt upon her grave,
They fell upon his face.
Said he, “My love, my only love,
My Elena, my Sweet!
Through what wild ways of mystery
Have strayed your little feet?
Alone, alone this lonely night
Where only spirits meet!
My Elena, my Sweet!
Through what wild ways of mystery
Have strayed your little feet?
Alone, alone this lonely night
Where only spirits meet!
“It is not my bleak desert life
That turns my heart to lead,
Not for my empty arms I mourn,
Nor for my loveless bed;
But that you wander forth alone
On heights I may not tread.
That turns my heart to lead,
Not for my empty arms I mourn,
Nor for my loveless bed;
But that you wander forth alone
On heights I may not tread.
“If I could stand beside you now,
Sin-burdened though I be,
I'd bear you through the trackless ways
From fear and danger free,
Not God himself could daunt the strong
Undying love of me!
Sin-burdened though I be,
I'd bear you through the trackless ways
From fear and danger free,
Not God himself could daunt the strong
Undying love of me!
269
“Though Heaven is a pleasant place,
What joy for you is there?
Who tread the jewelled streets alone
Without my heart to share
Each throb of your heart, and my arm
Around you, O my Fair!
What joy for you is there?
Who tread the jewelled streets alone
Without my heart to share
Each throb of your heart, and my arm
Around you, O my Fair!
“I hear your sobbing in the wind,
And in the summer rain
I feel your tears. My heart is pierced
With your sad, lonely pain.
My Love! My only Love! I come!
You shall not call in vain!”
And in the summer rain
I feel your tears. My heart is pierced
With your sad, lonely pain.
My Love! My only Love! I come!
You shall not call in vain!”
Where two roads cross by Chevely town
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.
270
THE OTHER LOVER
I'm home from off the stormy sea,
And down the street
The folk come out to welcome me
On eager feet.
O neighbours, God be with you all,
But for my true love I must call;
She lingers in her father's hall
So shy, so sweet!
And down the street
The folk come out to welcome me
On eager feet.
O neighbours, God be with you all,
But for my true love I must call;
She lingers in her father's hall
So shy, so sweet!
Here is a string of milky pearls
For her to wear,
An amber comb to match the curls
Of her bright hair.
O neighbours, do not crowd me so!
Stand by! stand by! for I must go
To put on my love's hand of snow
This gold ring fair.
For her to wear,
An amber comb to match the curls
Of her bright hair.
O neighbours, do not crowd me so!
Stand by! stand by! for I must go
To put on my love's hand of snow
This gold ring fair.
Good dame, why do you block the way
And shake your head?
Must all the things you have to say
Just now be said?
O neighbours, let me pass—but why—
My God, what makes you women cry?
Come tell me that I too may die!
Is my love dead?
And shake your head?
Must all the things you have to say
Just now be said?
O neighbours, let me pass—but why—
My God, what makes you women cry?
Come tell me that I too may die!
Is my love dead?
271
“Nay, Marjorie's a living thing,
And fair and strong.
Yet did you wait to give your ring
A year too long.
To seek her love there came the Moon;
Now Marjorie at night and noon
Is chained and sits alone to croon
The Moon's love-song.”
And fair and strong.
Yet did you wait to give your ring
A year too long.
To seek her love there came the Moon;
Now Marjorie at night and noon
Is chained and sits alone to croon
The Moon's love-song.”
| [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer | |