 | Love-Songs |  |
138
CHRIST AND WOMAN.
Are there not, O king,
King of many lands,
Brooding with broad wing
Over seas and sands,
Free yet from thine hands,
Full many shores whereto free joyous spirits cling?
King of many lands,
Brooding with broad wing
Over seas and sands,
Free yet from thine hands,
Full many shores whereto free joyous spirits cling?
Are there not, O lord
Of the church-fed air
Which is round us poured
For our birth-day fare
In England everywhere,
Yet souls untrammelled girt with courage for a sword?
Of the church-fed air
Which is round us poured
For our birth-day fare
In England everywhere,
Yet souls untrammelled girt with courage for a sword?
If our women find
In thee all they seek,
Deaf and pale and blind,
Noble not but weak—
Yet hath not some cheek
Of woman flushed for love of her own kith and kind?
In thee all they seek,
Deaf and pale and blind,
Noble not but weak—
Yet hath not some cheek
Of woman flushed for love of her own kith and kind?
139
If our chur ches groan
With the praise they pour
In their weary tone
On thee evermore,
Yet hath not some shore
Crowns of another Christ, and other worship known?
With the praise they pour
In their weary tone
On thee evermore,
Yet hath not some shore
Crowns of another Christ, and other worship known?
Is the rose more red
Since the Saviour's birth?
Or the lily's head
Tenderer in worth?
Greener is the earth?
Doth any Lazarus here come smiling from the dead?
Since the Saviour's birth?
Or the lily's head
Tenderer in worth?
Greener is the earth?
Doth any Lazarus here come smiling from the dead?
Do the loaves increase
For our needy crowd?
Do our terrors cease?
Doth the ghostlike shroud
Of sorrow at the loud
Mandate of any Christ divide, disclosing peace?
For our needy crowd?
Do our terrors cease?
Doth the ghostlike shroud
Of sorrow at the loud
Mandate of any Christ divide, disclosing peace?
Have the high sheer waves
At Christ's bidding spared
Seamen,—have the graves
That their gulfs prepared
Yielded souls that dared
To tempt the awful deep back from their frothy caves?
At Christ's bidding spared
Seamen,—have the graves
That their gulfs prepared
Yielded souls that dared
To tempt the awful deep back from their frothy caves?
140
Have the breakers stood
Silent at the touch
Of a Saviour good,
Rescuing from their clutch
Souls he valued much?
Have blossoms burned new-born on rods of barren wood?
Silent at the touch
Of a Saviour good,
Rescuing from their clutch
Souls he valued much?
Have blossoms burned new-born on rods of barren wood?
Hath the grave again
Opened to set free
Any sons of men,—
Given to liberty
Any soul that we
Have marked its iron bars and bitter paling pen?
Opened to set free
Any sons of men,—
Given to liberty
Any soul that we
Have marked its iron bars and bitter paling pen?
What hath Christ for these
English yearning souls
Done that they should cease,
As the world-wave rolls
Onward over shoals
And sunken reefs, to seek in their own spirits peace?
English yearning souls
Done that they should cease,
As the world-wave rolls
Onward over shoals
And sunken reefs, to seek in their own spirits peace?
Peace within the shores
Where their life was born,
Over which God pours
Crimson blush of morn,
Which he clothes with corn,—
Round which their sails are white, and round which throb their oars.
Where their life was born,
Over which God pours
Crimson blush of morn,
Which he clothes with corn,—
Round which their sails are white, and round which throb their oars.
141
Pleasure in the land
That indeed their own
They may call, and stand
On it as a throne,
By its breezes blown,
Girt with its cliffs and yellow wastes of seawashed sand.
That indeed their own
They may call, and stand
On it as a throne,
By its breezes blown,
Girt with its cliffs and yellow wastes of seawashed sand.
Oh, is this not ours,
All this island-shore?
Green and glad with bowers;
Undismayed by war;
Over which there pour
Fresh from God's fruitful hand the ever-fruitful showers.
All this island-shore?
Green and glad with bowers;
Undismayed by war;
Over which there pour
Fresh from God's fruitful hand the ever-fruitful showers.
Is it not thine own,
Brother? why then seek
Alien shores and groan,
Awe-struck at the peak
Of Sinai, or some creek
Whose rocky bluffs once rang to Christ's alluring tone?
Brother? why then seek
Alien shores and groan,
Awe-struck at the peak
Of Sinai, or some creek
Whose rocky bluffs once rang to Christ's alluring tone?
Why this discontent?
Why this wild desire,
Longing ever bent
With increasing fire
On an Eastern lyre,
That wayward and harsh-toned uncertain instrument?
Why this wild desire,
Longing ever bent
With increasing fire
On an Eastern lyre,
That wayward and harsh-toned uncertain instrument?
142
Are not the strong seas
Of our pent-up coast
Touched by wintry breeze
Music deep? a host
Of singers we may boast,
Yea may not we?—the birds among our summer trees?
Of our pent-up coast
Touched by wintry breeze
Music deep? a host
Of singers we may boast,
Yea may not we?—the birds among our summer trees?
And have not we the grace
Of perfect womanhood
Among us—yea, each face,
Sweet and pure and good,
Womanly in mood,
Brings God before us, God made plain in every place.
Of perfect womanhood
Among us—yea, each face,
Sweet and pure and good,
Womanly in mood,
Brings God before us, God made plain in every place.
Christs we have, and kings:
Women-Christs divine,
Bearing snowier wings
Than the wings that shine,
Noble in outline,
Upon the Christ who on the rain-dyed gibbet swings.
Women-Christs divine,
Bearing snowier wings
Than the wings that shine,
Noble in outline,
Upon the Christ who on the rain-dyed gibbet swings.
Is not Woman more
Even than the rose?
Shall she not, too, soar
Past all earthly woes,
Till bright gates disclose
In heaven heroic hearts for her too to adore?
Even than the rose?
Shall she not, too, soar
Past all earthly woes,
Till bright gates disclose
In heaven heroic hearts for her too to adore?
143
Are not her lips sweet,
And her tresses fair?
And shall she retreat,
Hustled through the air,
When her foes declare
That God's step sounds alone in Christ's approaching feet?
And her tresses fair?
And shall she retreat,
Hustled through the air,
When her foes declare
That God's step sounds alone in Christ's approaching feet?
Is not every bride
Unto us as pure
As the Christ who sighed
In the groves obscure
Where e'en now endure
Stories that drip with blood, memories of how he died?
Unto us as pure
As the Christ who sighed
In the groves obscure
Where e'en now endure
Stories that drip with blood, memories of how he died?
Did he rise alone?
Shall not we too rise
To our fitting throne,
Triumph in our eyes,
Cleaving sundered skies,—
Have we not too the Father, and his glory known?
Shall not we too rise
To our fitting throne,
Triumph in our eyes,
Cleaving sundered skies,—
Have we not too the Father, and his glory known?
Hath the Father one
Only child and heir?
Favourite chief son,
Who alone may share
All the treasures fair
Amassed since first his Sire creative toil begun?
Only child and heir?
Favourite chief son,
Who alone may share
All the treasures fair
Amassed since first his Sire creative toil begun?
144
Shall not Woman rise
Bursting all the bars
That now mock her sighs,
Sweep along the stars—
All that stays and mars
Long left behind in lower undertrodden skies?
Bursting all the bars
That now mock her sighs,
Sweep along the stars—
All that stays and mars
Long left behind in lower undertrodden skies?
Shall she not surpass
Saviours and ascend
To the seas of glass,
All high heaven for friend?
Is there any end
To blossoms that smile upward, round her, from the grass?
Saviours and ascend
To the seas of glass,
All high heaven for friend?
Is there any end
To blossoms that smile upward, round her, from the grass?
Hath the Holy Ghost
Not a cliff-top lair
Somewhere in our coast?
Is not English air
Sweet enough and fair
Enough to bring down many a bright angelic host?
Not a cliff-top lair
Somewhere in our coast?
Is not English air
Sweet enough and fair
Enough to bring down many a bright angelic host?
White and pure indeed
Are the angels seen
With us, whose feet bleed
'Mid the grasses green;
Thick clouds fail to screen
From us high heaven; we have the angel-help we need.
Are the angels seen
With us, whose feet bleed
'Mid the grasses green;
Thick clouds fail to screen
From us high heaven; we have the angel-help we need.
145
Not in this our age
Did the Christ-king rise:
Not his war we wage
'Neath our stormier skies,
Echo not his sighs;
Contend not, as did he, with winds' and waters' rage.
Did the Christ-king rise:
Not his war we wage
'Neath our stormier skies,
Echo not his sighs;
Contend not, as did he, with winds' and waters' rage.
Rather in the stress
Of our surging thought
Struggle we no less:
No less hearts have brought
Purified of aught
That might obscure or cloud the faith our tongues confess.
Of our surging thought
Struggle we no less:
No less hearts have brought
Purified of aught
That might obscure or cloud the faith our tongues confess.
The utter faith in man
And the Power that leads
Onward through life's span
Man,—who toils and bleeds,
Suffers and succeeds,
Completes at last the work his birthday breath began.
And the Power that leads
Onward through life's span
Man,—who toils and bleeds,
Suffers and succeeds,
Completes at last the work his birthday breath began.
Faith in the great soul
Human, and the Power
Latent in the whole,
Sweet in the rose-bower,
Tender in love's hour,
Who, silent, works on towards the foreseen certain goal.
Human, and the Power
Latent in the whole,
Sweet in the rose-bower,
Tender in love's hour,
Who, silent, works on towards the foreseen certain goal.
146
Faith in man's soul's light,
And the perfect doom
Of day to follow night;
Night again with gloom
To rest us, and entomb
The sadness of the day, healing with gentle might.
And the perfect doom
Of day to follow night;
Night again with gloom
To rest us, and entomb
The sadness of the day, healing with gentle might.
Faith in the course of things,
Certain and sublime,
Towards the utmost springs
Of morning: towards a clime
Sunnier, and a rhyme
Beating more gladsome yet through broad creation's wings.
Certain and sublime,
Towards the utmost springs
Of morning: towards a clime
Sunnier, and a rhyme
Beating more gladsome yet through broad creation's wings.
Therefore not one King
Worship we, but crown
Man, and 'neath man's wing
Gladly rest,—and down
Towards life's furrows brown
We look; no more our hands round heaven's flower-stalks cling.
Worship we, but crown
Man, and 'neath man's wing
Gladly rest,—and down
Towards life's furrows brown
We look; no more our hands round heaven's flower-stalks cling.
Woman we elect
Tender snow-white queen:
Man, the lord, is decked
Now in lordly sheen;
Priests who came between
Man and the Power that made, with anger we reject.
Tender snow-white queen:
Man, the lord, is decked
Now in lordly sheen;
Priests who came between
Man and the Power that made, with anger we reject.
147
For God's mouth shall bend,
Tender, unto each,
Kissing each as Friend,
If we will but reach
Upward, and beseech,
Fearless, the Power that wrought, to mould us to the end.
Tender, unto each,
Kissing each as Friend,
If we will but reach
Upward, and beseech,
Fearless, the Power that wrought, to mould us to the end.
| Love-Songs | |