 | Potiphar's Wife and Other Poems |  |
91
Other Poems.
93
A SONG.
[Once—and only once—you gave]
Once—and only once—you gave
One rich gift, which Memory
Shuts within itself, to save
Sweet and fresh, while life may be:
Shuts it like a rose-leaf treasured
In the pages of a book,
Which we open, when heart-leisured,
Now and then—softly to look.
One rich gift, which Memory
Shuts within itself, to save
Sweet and fresh, while life may be:
Shuts it like a rose-leaf treasured
In the pages of a book,
Which we open, when heart-leisured,
Now and then—softly to look.
If I told you of that gift
How and when, the tend'ring of it,
Would you, out of rose-leaf thrift,
Claim from me the rend'ring of it?
That might make it two for one
('Twas of such unwonted kind!)
Half a mind I have to tell you
Not to tell you half a mind.
How and when, the tend'ring of it,
Would you, out of rose-leaf thrift,
Claim from me the rend'ring of it?
94
('Twas of such unwonted kind!)
Half a mind I have to tell you
Not to tell you half a mind.
95
MOTHERS.
(A Dialogue at Boston, Mass., U.S.A.)
“See there,” he said, “my fair American!
Yon noisy child
I'd like to choke, being but ‘brutal man;’
That Mother mild
Yon noisy child
I'd like to choke, being but ‘brutal man;’
That Mother mild
“Takes all its howls for music, comforts it
With song and kiss:
And gives it, at the loudest of its fit,
Her milky bliss.
With song and kiss:
And gives it, at the loudest of its fit,
Her milky bliss.
And there again,—yon little lambkin bleating,
Made for mint-sauce:
At its first cry the Ewe quits clover-eating
And runs, perforce.
Made for mint-sauce:
At its first cry the Ewe quits clover-eating
And runs, perforce.
96
And yet again, that purple-winged hen-starling,
Hungry—I'll vouch it!
Flies with a fat grub to her nested darling,
Nor dreams to pouch it!
Hungry—I'll vouch it!
Flies with a fat grub to her nested darling,
Nor dreams to pouch it!
She-mercy everywhere, she-pitying
In helpless season!
You Boston girls seem up to everything:
Tell me the reason.”
In helpless season!
You Boston girls seem up to everything:
Tell me the reason.”
“Why, certainly!” she smiled, “don't poets know
Better than others?
God can't be always everywhere: and, so,
Invented Mothers.”
Better than others?
God can't be always everywhere: and, so,
Invented Mothers.”
97
INSCRIPTION FOR STAINED-GLASS WINDOW
IN ST. MARGARET'S CHURCH, WESTMINSTER, LONDON.
(To the Memory of Edward Lloyd, Esq.)
A Master-Printer of the Press, he spake
By mouth of many thousand tongues: he swayed
The pens which break the sceptres. Good Lord! make
Thy strong ones faithful and thy bold afraid!
98
SONNET TO AMERICA.
America! At this thy Golden Gate,New travelled from those portals of the West,
Parting—I make my reverence! It were best
With backward looks to quit a Queen in state!
Land of all lands most fair, and free, and great,
Of countless kindred lips, wherefrom I heard
Sweet speech of Shakespeare—keep it consecrate
For noble uses! Land of Freedom's Bird,
Fearless and proud! so let him soar that, stirred
By generous joy, all lands may learn from thee
A larger life, and Europe, undeterred
By ancient dreads, dare also to be free
Body and Soul, seeing thine eagle gaze
Undazzled, upon Freedom's sun full-blaze.
99
THE BRITISH EMPIRE.
FROM CLAUDIAN.
She alone knew, of victors first and best,To fold the vanquished to her pardoning breast:
To gather 'neath her wings, in one great brood,
The tribes of Man, by might, then love, subdued,
Mother, not Queen, calling those sons by birth
Whom she had conquered—linking ends of Earth.
100
THE SULTAN'S RING.
(From the Persian.)
A neck-exalting Lord, a Median King,
Heard one in rags, sore-troubled, say this thing
Under the palace-arch—haggard and faint
Rocking upon the Carpet of Complaint:
“Oh, Sultan! to the Door of God goest thou
As I to thine: therefore accomplish now
Mercy towards me, as thou for mercy prayest:
‘Make glad my heart!’ To Allah so thou sayest,
Therefore, from Sorrow's darkness bring forth mine!”
Now, on that Sultan's thumb a stone did shine,
Pigeon-blood ruby, such a gem the Shroff
Faltered in telling what would weigh enough
In gold tomâns to price it. In the night
It glowed as Day had dropped spark of rose-light
From th' afternoon: and in the Day it seemed
As though a red imprisoned sunbeam gleamed.
Heard one in rags, sore-troubled, say this thing
Under the palace-arch—haggard and faint
Rocking upon the Carpet of Complaint:
“Oh, Sultan! to the Door of God goest thou
As I to thine: therefore accomplish now
Mercy towards me, as thou for mercy prayest:
‘Make glad my heart!’ To Allah so thou sayest,
Therefore, from Sorrow's darkness bring forth mine!”
Now, on that Sultan's thumb a stone did shine,
Pigeon-blood ruby, such a gem the Shroff
Faltered in telling what would weigh enough
In gold tomâns to price it. In the night
It glowed as Day had dropped spark of rose-light
101
As though a red imprisoned sunbeam gleamed.
The Sultan drew this wonder from his thumb,
While, at his stirrup-iron, grim and dumb,
The Aghas watched, stroking their beards. He drew
The ruby off, and quotha: “It was new
Upon our lips that prayer! God may delay
To hear us if we turn our hearts away
When others ask. Go, sell this ring, and buy
Oil of Content for Sore of Misery!”
While, at his stirrup-iron, grim and dumb,
The Aghas watched, stroking their beards. He drew
The ruby off, and quotha: “It was new
Upon our lips that prayer! God may delay
To hear us if we turn our hearts away
When others ask. Go, sell this ring, and buy
Oil of Content for Sore of Misery!”
Better a king's hand lacking royal seal
Than king's ear guilty of unheard appeal!
Than king's ear guilty of unheard appeal!
102
CHAPTER I. OF THE DHAMMAPADA.
Thought in the mind hath made us. What thou art
By thought was wrought and builded. If a soul
Hath evil thoughts, pain comes as wheels of cart
Behind its oxen roll.
By thought was wrought and builded. If a soul
Hath evil thoughts, pain comes as wheels of cart
Behind its oxen roll.
All that we are is what we think and will:
Our thoughts shape us and frame. If one endure
In purity of thought, joy follows still
As his own shadow—sure!
Our thoughts shape us and frame. If one endure
In purity of thought, joy follows still
As his own shadow—sure!
“He hath defamed me, wronged me, broken trust,
Abased me, beaten me!” If one shall keep
Thoughts like these angry words within his breast
Hatreds will never sleep!
Abased me, beaten me!” If one shall keep
Thoughts like these angry words within his breast
Hatreds will never sleep!
103
“He hath defamed me, wronged me, vilely wrought,
Abased me, beaten me!” If one shall send
Such angry words away for pardoning thought
Hatreds will have an end.
Abased me, beaten me!” If one shall send
Such angry words away for pardoning thought
Hatreds will have an end.
For, never anywhere at any time
Did hatred cease by hatred. Always 'tis
By Love that hatred ceaseth. From the prime
The ancient Rule is this.
Did hatred cease by hatred. Always 'tis
By Love that hatred ceaseth. From the prime
The ancient Rule is this.
The many, who live foolish, do forget
Or never knew, how mortal wrongs pass by:
But they who know, and who remember, let
Transient quarrels die.
Or never knew, how mortal wrongs pass by:
But they who know, and who remember, let
Transient quarrels die.
Whoso abides, looking for pleasures, vain,
Gluttonous, proud, in idle luxuries,
Mâra will him o'erthrow, as wind and rain
Level short-rooted trees.
Gluttonous, proud, in idle luxuries,
Mâra will him o'erthrow, as wind and rain
Level short-rooted trees.
104
Whoso abides, disowning joys, controlled,
Temperate, faithful, firm, shunning all ill,
Mâra shall no more shake that man strong-souled
Than the wind doth a hill.
Temperate, faithful, firm, shunning all ill,
Mâra shall no more shake that man strong-souled
Than the wind doth a hill.
Whoso Kâshya bears—the yellow dress—
Being anishkashya , not sin-free
Nor heeding Truth and Law—in wrongfulness
That holy robe wears he.
Being anishkashya , not sin-free
Nor heeding Truth and Law—in wrongfulness
That holy robe wears he.
But whoso, living nishkashya aright,
Clean from offence, doth still in virtue dwell
Observing temperance and truth—that wight
Weareth Kashya well.
Clean from offence, doth still in virtue dwell
Observing temperance and truth—that wight
Weareth Kashya well.
Whoso imagines truth in the untrue
And in the true finds untruth—he expires
Never attaining Knowledge—life's to rue
He follows vain desires.
And in the true finds untruth—he expires
Never attaining Knowledge—life's to rue
He follows vain desires.
105
Whoso discerns in truth the true, and sees
The false in falseness with unblinded eye,
He doth attain to knowledge. Life with these
Aims well before they die.
The false in falseness with unblinded eye,
He doth attain to knowledge. Life with these
Aims well before they die.
As rain breaks through an ill-thatched roof, so break
Passions through minds which holy thoughts despise:
As rain runs from a well-laid roof—so shake
Their passions off, the wise.
Passions through minds which holy thoughts despise:
As rain runs from a well-laid roof—so shake
Their passions off, the wise.
The Evil-doer mourneth this life long
And mourneth in the life to come. In both
He grieveth. When he seeth fruit of wrong
To see he will be loath.
And mourneth in the life to come. In both
He grieveth. When he seeth fruit of wrong
To see he will be loath.
The righteous man in this world hath his boot,
And in the world to come. From both he takes
Pleasaunce. When he doth see his works bear fruit
The good sight gladness makes.
And in the world to come. From both he takes
Pleasaunce. When he doth see his works bear fruit
The good sight gladness makes.
106
Glad is he living, glad in dying, glad
Having once died: glad alway, glad to know
What good deeds he had done, glad that he had
More good where he did go.
Having once died: glad alway, glad to know
What good deeds he had done, glad that he had
More good where he did go.
The lawless man, who Law not following,
Leaf after leaf recites, and line by line;
No Buddhist is he, but a hireling
Who counts another's kine.
Leaf after leaf recites, and line by line;
No Buddhist is he, but a hireling
Who counts another's kine.
The law-obeying, loving one who learns
Only one verse of Dharma, but hath ceased
From envy, hatred, malice, ill concerns,
He is the Buddhist Priest!
Only one verse of Dharma, but hath ceased
From envy, hatred, malice, ill concerns,
He is the Buddhist Priest!
107
THE CHIPMUNK.
Strolling in the city garden
Where the gardens touched the woodlands
(Always with new eyes beholding
Men and beasts and birds and flowers
In your land, so fair and friendly,
In America so wondrous);
Suddenly I spy, careering,
Tail in air, alert, observant,
Glittering with black-beady eyeballs
On the rail-edge, like rope-dancer,
Some small beast not known in England.
“What is that?” I said, inquiring,
“Can it be Longfellow's squirrel,
Hiawatha's Adjidaumo?”
Where the gardens touched the woodlands
(Always with new eyes beholding
Men and beasts and birds and flowers
In your land, so fair and friendly,
In America so wondrous);
Suddenly I spy, careering,
Tail in air, alert, observant,
Glittering with black-beady eyeballs
On the rail-edge, like rope-dancer,
Some small beast not known in England.
“What is that?” I said, inquiring,
“Can it be Longfellow's squirrel,
Hiawatha's Adjidaumo?”
108
“Say! and don't you really know him?”
Laughingly replied my comrade,
Tan-faced, prairie boy of ten;
“That's the Chipmunk, and we kill him
For his smooth, grey, stripey skin.”
Laughingly replied my comrade,
Tan-faced, prairie boy of ten;
“That's the Chipmunk, and we kill him
For his smooth, grey, stripey skin.”
“Ah!” I said, “don't kill the Chipmunk,
If his little coat has stripes!
Brother he must be, or cousin
To a chipmunk that I know
Dwelling in the Indian Jungle.
No one kills the small Geloori
Over there in far-off India,
Ever since they heard the story
How its coat came to be striped.”
If his little coat has stripes!
Brother he must be, or cousin
To a chipmunk that I know
Dwelling in the Indian Jungle.
No one kills the small Geloori
Over there in far-off India,
Ever since they heard the story
How its coat came to be striped.”
“Why, do tell!” cried my companion;
And I told the Hindoo story
All to save chipmunks and squirrels.
And I told the Hindoo story
All to save chipmunks and squirrels.
109
Once, among the palm-groves wandering,
Shiva, Lord and God of all things,
By the sea-shore saw a squirrel
Grey, with bushy tail and bright eyes,
Dipping constantly in ocean—
Dipping twenty times a minute,
Dipping deeply in the salt waves
Bushy tail, and then besprinkling
On the shore the gathered water.
Shiva, Lord and God of all things,
By the sea-shore saw a squirrel
Grey, with bushy tail and bright eyes,
Dipping constantly in ocean—
Dipping twenty times a minute,
Dipping deeply in the salt waves
Bushy tail, and then besprinkling
On the shore the gathered water.
Quoth the God, “What art thou doing,
Little grey, insensate Squirrel!
Dipping in the mighty ocean
Tail so insignificant?”
Little grey, insensate Squirrel!
Dipping in the mighty ocean
Tail so insignificant?”
And the Squirrel meekly answered:
“Oh, Creator of all living,
Glorious Shiva! I am trying
To bale dry the Indian Sea;
For there came a furious tempest
Which laid low this lofty palm-tree
Where I built my happy nest;
And the palm has fallen seaward,
And the nest lies in the water,
And my wife and pretty children
In the nest will float away;
Therefore, all the night and day here
Do I dip my tail and shake it,
Hoping, if I labour stoutly,
At the last to bale the sea dry,
So that I may save my darlings
Even though I spoil my tail.”
“Oh, Creator of all living,
Glorious Shiva! I am trying
To bale dry the Indian Sea;
For there came a furious tempest
110
Where I built my happy nest;
And the palm has fallen seaward,
And the nest lies in the water,
And my wife and pretty children
In the nest will float away;
Therefore, all the night and day here
Do I dip my tail and shake it,
Hoping, if I labour stoutly,
At the last to bale the sea dry,
So that I may save my darlings
Even though I spoil my tail.”
Gravely spake the Lord of Heaven:
“Truly 'tis a good example,
Little, grey, absurd Geloori!
Which you set to families.
If all husbands were as faithful,
And all fathers proved as fond,
Happier would be those I fashion,
Sweet would pass the lives I give!”
Then He stooped, and, with His great hand—
Hand that makes the men and spirits—
Hand that holds the stars and planets
As we grasp a bunch of grapes—
Shiva stroked the toiling squirrel;
“Truly 'tis a good example,
Little, grey, absurd Geloori!
Which you set to families.
If all husbands were as faithful,
And all fathers proved as fond,
Happier would be those I fashion,
111
Then He stooped, and, with His great hand—
Hand that makes the men and spirits—
Hand that holds the stars and planets
As we grasp a bunch of grapes—
Shiva stroked the toiling squirrel;
And there came, from nose to tail-end,
Four green stripes upon the grey;
Marks by the Supreme Hand planted
As a sign of love forever.
Then He lifted high that hand,
Waved it to the rolling waters,
Waved it to the roaring Main,
Which ran back with all its surges
Like white dogs that know their master,
Leaving bare the rocks and seaweed,
Leaving high and dry the palm-tree.
Four green stripes upon the grey;
Marks by the Supreme Hand planted
As a sign of love forever.
Then He lifted high that hand,
Waved it to the rolling waters,
Waved it to the roaring Main,
Which ran back with all its surges
Like white dogs that know their master,
Leaving bare the rocks and seaweed,
Leaving high and dry the palm-tree.
And the little squirrel hastened—
Cocking high his tail again,
Reached his woven house of grass-blades—
Found his wife, and found his children
Dry and well, and chirping welcomes.
So he brought them safe to dry land,
But the wonder was to see
All their little smooth backs “stripey”
With the sign of Shiva's fingers!
Cocking high his tail again,
112
Found his wife, and found his children
Dry and well, and chirping welcomes.
So he brought them safe to dry land,
But the wonder was to see
All their little smooth backs “stripey”
With the sign of Shiva's fingers!
That is why, in distant India,
Good men never kill the chipmunks;
And, I think, his cousins here,
Though no God has ever stroked them,
Would be grateful if you left them
Playing 'mid the scarlet maples
Of your Pennsylvanian woods.
Good men never kill the chipmunks;
And, I think, his cousins here,
Though no God has ever stroked them,
Would be grateful if you left them
Playing 'mid the scarlet maples
Of your Pennsylvanian woods.
113
A ROSE OF THE “GARDEN OF FRAGRANCE.”
(From the Persian of Sâdi's “Bostan.”)
Of hearts disconsolate see to the state:
To bear a breaking heart may prove thy fate.
To bear a breaking heart may prove thy fate.
Help to be happy those thine aid can bless,
Mindful of thine own day of helplessness.
Mindful of thine own day of helplessness.
If thou at others' doors need'st not to pine
In thanks to Allah drive no man from thine.
In thanks to Allah drive no man from thine.
Over the orphan's path protection spread!
Pluck out his heart-grief, lift his drooping head.
Pluck out his heart-grief, lift his drooping head.
When with his neck bent low thou spiest one,
Kiss not the lifted face of thine own son!
Kiss not the lifted face of thine own son!
114
Take heed these go not weeping. Allah's throne
Shakes to the sigh the orphan breathes alone.
Shakes to the sigh the orphan breathes alone.
With kindness wipe the tear-drop from his eye,
Cleanse him from dust of his calamity!
Cleanse him from dust of his calamity!
There was a merchant, who, upon his way—
Meeting one fatherless and lamed—did stay
Meeting one fatherless and lamed—did stay
To draw the thorn which pricked his foot; and passed:
And 'twas forgot: and the man died at last:
And 'twas forgot: and the man died at last:
But in a dream the Prince of Khojand spies
That man again, walking in Paradise;
That man again, walking in Paradise;
Walking and talking in the Blessed Land,
And what he said the Prince could understand:
And what he said the Prince could understand:
For he said this: plucking the heavenly posies,
“Ajâb! that one thorn made me many Roses!”
“Ajâb! that one thorn made me many Roses!”
115
TO MY BIOGRAPHER.
Trace me through my snow,
Track me through my mire,
You shall never know
Half that you desire!
Track me through my mire,
You shall never know
Half that you desire!
Praise me, or asperse,
Deck me, or deride;
In my veil of verse
Safe from you I hide.
Deck me, or deride;
In my veil of verse
Safe from you I hide.
116
A PICTURE.
(From the German of the Queen of Roumania.)
Sits upon the splintered summitSwathed in tempest, by a black gulf,
Wondrous beautiful, a Woman—
Large and strong her body's lines are
As she leans upon the rock
At the crag's edge lightly swaying:
One knee rests across the other
Balanced, and, with fingers clenched,
In her hand she grasps a serpent,
Careless how the monstrous creature
Twines and coils, and shoots its fork forth
Helpless that white grip to loosen,
Helpless to escape her fingers.
Red her hair is; like to flame-tongues
117
Float into the clouds and capture
The chain-lightning as it falls,
Drawing through its skeins those flashes
Which glide harmless down her body,
But, beneath her, split a pine-tree
From its topmost bough to foot.
And the eyes of that wild woman,
In the light which flickers purple
Round and round the summit, glitter
Green beneath great brows of black.
118
DURCH DEN WALD.
(From the German of the Queen of Roumania.)
Through the forest there fluttered a song
Upborne upon airy gay wings:
As the breeze lisps the beech-boughs among
So softly it lit on my strings:
And my harp told the River again:
And the trees and the birds caught the strain:
And the flow'rs set up soft whisperings.
Upborne upon airy gay wings:
As the breeze lisps the beech-boughs among
So softly it lit on my strings:
And my harp told the River again:
And the trees and the birds caught the strain:
And the flow'rs set up soft whisperings.
Through the forest came loitering Love:
There was budding and blooming at this:
The birds woke, with welcome, the grove
And the rocks and the springs felt the bliss;
It seemed 'twould be sunshine forever
As the sun shed red gold on the River
And the waves and the bank-buds did kiss.
There was budding and blooming at this:
The birds woke, with welcome, the grove
And the rocks and the springs felt the bliss;
It seemed 'twould be sunshine forever
As the sun shed red gold on the River
And the waves and the bank-buds did kiss.
119
Through the forest a tempest did roar,
Song and Love in its fury it caught,
And both to the far Sea it bore,
So an end to all singing was brought!
And the River went silently by,
And the gold melted out of the sky,
And the talk of the birds came to naught!
Song and Love in its fury it caught,
And both to the far Sea it bore,
So an end to all singing was brought!
And the River went silently by,
And the gold melted out of the sky,
And the talk of the birds came to naught!
120
THE TOPSAIL OF THE VICTORY.
[_]
(“On the wall is suspended the foretopsail of Lord Nelson's flagship Victory.” Vide “Catalogue of Naval Exhibition, Chelsea, 1891.”)
Oh, Wings of Victory!
Proud battle-plumage, torn with shot and ball,
Draped in wide tattered glory on this wall!
Come hither! Come and see!
Proud battle-plumage, torn with shot and ball,
Draped in wide tattered glory on this wall!
Come hither! Come and see!
Lord Nelson's canvas here!
The topsail of his Flagship, when he sailed
To win Trafalgar for us,—and prevailed
'Mid thunder, flame, and fear.
The topsail of his Flagship, when he sailed
To win Trafalgar for us,—and prevailed
'Mid thunder, flame, and fear.
The cloths she sheeted home
Shining and white that day! hallyard and clew,
Cringle and tack and bolt-rope—clean and new—
Close to the foe to come:
Shining and white that day! hallyard and clew,
Cringle and tack and bolt-rope—clean and new—
Close to the foe to come:
121
Now faded, ragged, frayed:
As yellow as King George's guineas! Rent
From bunt to ear-ring: yet magnificent!
Yet in royal state arrayed!
As yellow as King George's guineas! Rent
From bunt to ear-ring: yet magnificent!
Yet in royal state arrayed!
For, dear and dauntless ship,
Built of the British Oak, and manned with hearts
Staunch as the heart of oak! What pulse but starts?
What pride leaps to the lip
Built of the British Oak, and manned with hearts
Staunch as the heart of oak! What pulse but starts?
What pride leaps to the lip
Thinking how each clout heard
The boatswain pipe: “Hoist the foretopsail, Lads!
Haul home! Haul home!” And then it soars and spreads
Like pinion of sea-bird:
The boatswain pipe: “Hoist the foretopsail, Lads!
Haul home! Haul home!” And then it soars and spreads
Like pinion of sea-bird:
Amongst the clouds a cloud:
And then it sees from foretop—while it holds
The Spanish breeze, and mightily unfolds—
Down on the decks that crowd
And then it sees from foretop—while it holds
The Spanish breeze, and mightily unfolds—
Down on the decks that crowd
122
Of Nelson's lions stand,
Stripped to the waist at stations: every man
Alight with the great signal-words which ran
Joyous, and good, and grand—
Stripped to the waist at stations: every man
Alight with the great signal-words which ran
Joyous, and good, and grand—
“England expects
That every man this day”—“Ay! ay! we hear!
Our duty we shall do: have ye no fear.”
The very cannons' necks
That every man this day”—“Ay! ay! we hear!
Our duty we shall do: have ye no fear.”
The very cannons' necks
Lean hungry o'er the swell,
Craving for battle-food: and, leading all
Nelson's Three-decker goes, majestical!
Beautiful! terrible!
Craving for battle-food: and, leading all
Nelson's Three-decker goes, majestical!
Beautiful! terrible!
Oh, Wings of Victory!
Flew ye indeed that forenoon, white and great,
Wafting our hero to his glorious fate
Over the dancing sea?
Flew ye indeed that forenoon, white and great,
Wafting our hero to his glorious fate
Over the dancing sea?
Marked ye, indeed,
The haughty foemen's challenge-flags unfold
From ship to ship, along the rippled gold?
And, ever true at need
The haughty foemen's challenge-flags unfold
123
And, ever true at need
Collingwood close? And Lake?
And Nelson, from his knees, come brave and gay
To give his bright blood for us? and the array
Of liners, in his wake?
And Nelson, from his knees, come brave and gay
To give his bright blood for us? and the array
Of liners, in his wake?
Gods! How we see
Bullets and round-shot rend thy bellying white!
And scarlet smoke-wreaths from the rattling fight
Enwrap thee, weather and lee!
Bullets and round-shot rend thy bellying white!
And scarlet smoke-wreaths from the rattling fight
Enwrap thee, weather and lee!
And how, below,
'Mid blast of such red thunders, rife with death,
Such terror as no tempest witnesseth,
Our British Jacks, aglow,
'Mid blast of such red thunders, rife with death,
Such terror as no tempest witnesseth,
Our British Jacks, aglow,
Fight on for Britain's Crown
As if each man were not King's man, but King!
And what cheers split the sky, when fluttering,
Flag after flag comes down!
As if each man were not King's man, but King!
And what cheers split the sky, when fluttering,
Flag after flag comes down!
124
And then—there! there!
While thy scorched folds flap triumph—that 'curst ball!
The mortal wound! our matchless Champion's fall!
Loss that made all gain dear.
While thy scorched folds flap triumph—that 'curst ball!
The mortal wound! our matchless Champion's fall!
Loss that made all gain dear.
Foretopsail old!
Under your foot he fell—splendid in death:
Under your shade breathed forth his patriot breath!
Ah! wove with valour's gold.
Under your foot he fell—splendid in death:
Under your shade breathed forth his patriot breath!
Ah! wove with valour's gold.
Heroic Rags!
Flaunt to the world, as once to France and Spain,
Token of England's might upon the main,
Better than blazoned flags.
Flaunt to the world, as once to France and Spain,
Token of England's might upon the main,
Better than blazoned flags.
Flaunt!—for ye may—
Tatters which make it boast enough to be
Of Nelson's blood! Torn Wings of Victory
From dread Trafalgar's day!
Tatters which make it boast enough to be
Of Nelson's blood! Torn Wings of Victory
From dread Trafalgar's day!
125
THE FRIGATE ENDYMION.
[_]
(“Towards the close of the war with France, Captain the Hon. Sir Charles Paget, while cruising in the Endymion frigate on the coast of Spain, descried a French ship of the line in imminent danger, embayed among rocks on a lee shore: bowsprit and foremast gone, and riding by a stream cable, her only remaining one.
Though it was blowing a gale, Sir Charles bore down to the assistance of his enemy, dropped his sheet-anchor on the Frenchman's bow, buoyed the cable, and veered it across his hawser. This the disabled ship succeeded in getting in, and thus seven hundred lives were saved from destruction.
After performing this chivalrous action the Endymion, being herself in great peril, hauled to the wind, let go her bower-anchor, club-hauled, and stood off shore on the other tack.” Vide“Catalogue Royal Naval Exhibition, 1891.”)
The English roses on her face
Blossomed a brighter pink, for pride,
As, through the glories of the place
Wistful, we wandered, side by side.
Blossomed a brighter pink, for pride,
As, through the glories of the place
Wistful, we wandered, side by side.
126
We saw our bygone worthies stand,
Done to the life, in steel and gold,
Howard and Drake—a stately band—
Sir Walter, Anson, Hawkins bold:
Done to the life, in steel and gold,
Howard and Drake—a stately band—
Sir Walter, Anson, Hawkins bold:
By all the martial blazonry
Of Blake's great battles, and the roar
Of Jervis, thundering through the sea:
With Rodney, Hood, and fifty more:
Of Blake's great battles, and the roar
Of Jervis, thundering through the sea:
With Rodney, Hood, and fifty more:
To him, the bravest, gentlest, best,
Duty's dear Hero, Britain's star—
The chieftain of the dauntless breast,
Nelson, our Thunderbolt of War!
Duty's dear Hero, Britain's star—
The chieftain of the dauntless breast,
Nelson, our Thunderbolt of War!
We saw him gathering sword by sword
On conquered decks from Don and Dane,
We saw him Victory's laurelled Lord
Rend the French battle-line a-twain:
On conquered decks from Don and Dane,
We saw him Victory's laurelled Lord
Rend the French battle-line a-twain:
127
We saw the coat, the vest he wore
In thick of dread Trafalgar's day:
The blood-stains, and the ball which tore
Shoulder-gold, lace, and life away.
In thick of dread Trafalgar's day:
The blood-stains, and the ball which tore
Shoulder-gold, lace, and life away.
In countless grand War-pieces there
The green seas foamed with gallant blood:
The skies blazed high with flame and fear,
The tall masts toppled to the flood.
The green seas foamed with gallant blood:
The skies blazed high with flame and fear,
The tall masts toppled to the flood.
But ever, 'mid red rage and glow
Of each tremendous Ocean fight,
Safe, by the strength of those below
The flag of England floated bright!
Of each tremendous Ocean fight,
Safe, by the strength of those below
The flag of England floated bright!
“Ah, dear, brave souls!” she said, “'tis good
To be a British girl and claim
Some drops, too, of such splendid blood,
Some distant share of deathless fame!”
To be a British girl and claim
Some drops, too, of such splendid blood,
Some distant share of deathless fame!”
128
“Yet, still I think of what tears rained
From tender French and Spanish eyes
For all those glorious days we gained.
Oh! the hard price of victories!”
From tender French and Spanish eyes
For all those glorious days we gained.
Oh! the hard price of victories!”
“Come then!” I said:“witness one fight
With triumph crowned, which cost no tear:
Waged gallant 'gainst the tempest's might.”
Then turned we to a canvas near.
With triumph crowned, which cost no tear:
Waged gallant 'gainst the tempest's might.”
Then turned we to a canvas near.
“Look! the King's frigate: and her foe:
The coast is Spain! Cruising to spy
An enemy, she finds him so,
Caught in a death-trap, piteously!”
The coast is Spain! Cruising to spy
An enemy, she finds him so,
Caught in a death-trap, piteously!”
“A great Three-decker! Close a-lee
Wild breakers on the black rocks foam
Will drown the ship's whole company
When that one Anchor's fluke comes home.
Wild breakers on the black rocks foam
Will drown the ship's whole company
When that one Anchor's fluke comes home.
129
“Her foremast gone, she cannot set
Head-sails to cast her off the land:
Those poor souls have to draw breath, yet
As long as while a warp will stand.
Head-sails to cast her off the land:
Those poor souls have to draw breath, yet
As long as while a warp will stand.
“'Tis war-time—time of mutual hate—
Only to keep off, therefore,—tack,
Mark from afar ‘Jean Crapaud's’ fate,
And lightly to “my Lords” bear back
Only to keep off, therefore,—tack,
Mark from afar ‘Jean Crapaud's’ fate,
And lightly to “my Lords” bear back
“Good news of the great Liner, done
To splinters, and some thirty score
Of ‘Mounseers’ perished! Not a gun
To fire! Just stand by—no more!
To splinters, and some thirty score
Of ‘Mounseers’ perished! Not a gun
To fire! Just stand by—no more!
“Also, that Captain who should go—
Eyes open—where this Gaul is driven,
Would steer straight into Hell's mid woe
Out of the easy peace of Heaven.
Eyes open—where this Gaul is driven,
Would steer straight into Hell's mid woe
Out of the easy peace of Heaven.
130
“Well! let them strike and drown! Not he!
Not lion-hearted Paget! No!
The war's forgot! He'll make us see
Seamanship at its topmost. Blow
Not lion-hearted Paget! No!
The war's forgot! He'll make us see
Seamanship at its topmost. Blow
“Boatswain! your pipe! Endymions, hear!
Forward and aft, all hands on deck!
Let my sails draw, range hawsers clear!
Paget from Fate his foe will pluck!”
Forward and aft, all hands on deck!
Let my sails draw, range hawsers clear!
Paget from Fate his foe will pluck!”
“So bears she down: the fair white flag
Hoisted—full friendly—at the main!
Her guns run in: twice to a rag
The stormsail torn: but set again.
Hoisted—full friendly—at the main!
Her guns run in: twice to a rag
The stormsail torn: but set again.
“And when she rounds to wind, they swarm
Into their rigging, and they dip
The tricolor, with hearts made warm
By hope and love. Look now! his ship
Into their rigging, and they dip
The tricolor, with hearts made warm
By hope and love. Look now! his ship
131
“Inside the doomed one! and you note
How, between life and death, he keeps
His Frigate like a pleasure-boat
Clean full and by: and, while he sweeps
How, between life and death, he keeps
His Frigate like a pleasure-boat
Clean full and by: and, while he sweeps
“Athwart the Frenchman's hawse, lets go
His big sheet-anchor: buoys it, cast
Clear o'er the rail. They know, they know!
Here's help! here's hope! here's chance at last!
His big sheet-anchor: buoys it, cast
Clear o'er the rail. They know, they know!
Here's help! here's hope! here's chance at last!
“For hauling (you shall understand)
The English hawser o'er her side,
All fear is fled of yon black strand:
Safely the huge Three-decker rides.
The English hawser o'er her side,
All fear is fled of yon black strand:
Safely the huge Three-decker rides.
“Safe shall she come to Brest again,
With Jean and Jacques, and Paul and Pierre;
And float to fight King George's men
Thanks to the goodly British gear.
With Jean and Jacques, and Paul and Pierre;
And float to fight King George's men
Thanks to the goodly British gear.
132
“But woe to bold Endymion,
Never was darker plight for craft;
Laid-to—all save one anchor gone,
And those black fateful rocks abaft!
Never was darker plight for craft;
Laid-to—all save one anchor gone,
And those black fateful rocks abaft!
“Fresh-plucked from death the Frenchmen watched
A sailor's highest lesson shown;
They view by skill that Frigate snatched
From peril direr than their own.
A sailor's highest lesson shown;
They view by skill that Frigate snatched
From peril direr than their own.
“To beat to windward she must fly
Round to the starboard tack: but drives
Full on the rocks in staying: try
To wear her, the same fate arrives.
Round to the starboard tack: but drives
Full on the rocks in staying: try
To wear her, the same fate arrives.
“One desperate shift remains! She brings
Her cable to the bitts: makes fast;
Drops anchor: by the starboard swings:
And, when a-lee her stern is cast,
Her cable to the bitts: makes fast;
Drops anchor: by the starboard swings:
And, when a-lee her stern is cast,
133
“Hauls on the slack, and cuts adrift:
Sheets home her foresail: fills, and swerves
A ship's length forth. Subtle and swift
Her aim the tempest's wrath now serves.
Sheets home her foresail: fills, and swerves
A ship's length forth. Subtle and swift
Her aim the tempest's wrath now serves.
“In view of those safe, rescued men,
Foot by foot steals she space to live:
Self-stripped of hope, except she win
The offing. None can succour give!
Foot by foot steals she space to live:
Self-stripped of hope, except she win
The offing. None can succour give!
“A ship's length more! One ship's length more!
And then ‘helm down!’ Then, something free
Comes the fierce blast! That leeward shore
Slides slow astern! That raging sea
And then ‘helm down!’ Then, something free
Comes the fierce blast! That leeward shore
Slides slow astern! That raging sea
“Widens! If once yon whitened reef
She weathers! 'tis a saviour saved!—
Seamanship conquers! Past belief
She rounds! The peril hath been braved!
She weathers! 'tis a saviour saved!—
Seamanship conquers! Past belief
She rounds! The peril hath been braved!
134
“Then, louder than the storm-wind's yell,
Rings in her wake the Frenchmen's cheer,
Bidding the good ship glad farewell
While our staunch Frigate draws out clear.
Rings in her wake the Frenchmen's cheer,
Bidding the good ship glad farewell
While our staunch Frigate draws out clear.
“Never was nobler salvage made!
Never a smarter sea-deed done!”
Never a smarter sea-deed done!”
“Best of all fights I love,” she said:
“This fight of the Endymion.”
“This fight of the Endymion.”
135
L'ENVOI.
(From the German of the Queen of Roumania.)
[And that which here I have been singing]
And that which here I have been singing
It was all yours—not mine!
From your joy all its gladness bringing:
Its sad chords from your sorrows ringing:
I did but you divine!
It was all yours—not mine!
From your joy all its gladness bringing:
Its sad chords from your sorrows ringing:
I did but you divine!
Yours were the thoughts forever ranging!
You made the folk-tales true!
In this Earth-show of chance and changing,
Of life uniting, death estranging,
Look, Soul! these things were you!
You made the folk-tales true!
In this Earth-show of chance and changing,
Of life uniting, death estranging,
Look, Soul! these things were you!
136
Perchance when Death shall give me leisure,
And these tired lips lie dumb,
Then you my words will better measure,
And in my love take larger pleasure,
Its meaning being come!
And these tired lips lie dumb,
Then you my words will better measure,
And in my love take larger pleasure,
Its meaning being come!
THE END.
| Potiphar's Wife and Other Poems | |