 | A Book of Dreams |  |
15
REMEMBERED PATHS.
I will arise and go to-day;
Surely I cannot miss the way.
It is not far,—one morning fair
We walked in autumn sunshine there;—
How young and strong and glad we were!
Surely I cannot miss the way.
It is not far,—one morning fair
We walked in autumn sunshine there;—
How young and strong and glad we were!
A thinly-wooded glen began,
A hurrying streamlet downward ran;
The woodland ways were soft and green,
The little rivulet between
In merry flashes heard and seen.
A hurrying streamlet downward ran;
The woodland ways were soft and green,
The little rivulet between
In merry flashes heard and seen.
It dances downward from its source
In quick clear streams of mountain force;
Headlong its light cascades it throws,
Over the stones it churns and flows,
And bubbles on without repose.
In quick clear streams of mountain force;
Headlong its light cascades it throws,
Over the stones it churns and flows,
And bubbles on without repose.
16
So narrow that from moss to moss
At first we lightly stepped across;
But as we walk it swells beside,
And now it rushes wild and wide,
All foaming white with rapid tide.
At first we lightly stepped across;
But as we walk it swells beside,
And now it rushes wild and wide,
All foaming white with rapid tide.
The firwood darkens o'er it still,
The odours of the firwood fill
The air, and underneath a bed
Of the dry needles fallen is spread,
Smooth and elastic to our tread.
The odours of the firwood fill
The air, and underneath a bed
Of the dry needles fallen is spread,
Smooth and elastic to our tread.
A river now it rolls along
In the broad valley swift and strong;
Close by, with all their flocks of snow,
Ceaseless against the rocks below
The multitudinous waters flow.
In the broad valley swift and strong;
Close by, with all their flocks of snow,
Ceaseless against the rocks below
The multitudinous waters flow.
So near it is—why has it been
So long since I the place have seen?
When was it last? At least no more
I will delay,—I go before
Another hour of light is o'er.
So long since I the place have seen?
When was it last? At least no more
I will delay,—I go before
Another hour of light is o'er.
17
Neighbours and friends, bridegroom and bride,
We walked that morning side by side;
Our steps were light, our talk was gay;—
Shall we not go again that way?
Will it not be as bright to-day?
We walked that morning side by side;
Our steps were light, our talk was gay;—
Shall we not go again that way?
Will it not be as bright to-day?
Are all of us not here who came?
Why should not all things be the same?
Something is strange,—because I seem
To know so well the rush and gleam
Of that resounding forest stream:
Why should not all things be the same?
Something is strange,—because I seem
To know so well the rush and gleam
Of that resounding forest stream:
And yet I cannot tell the day
When last I saw it,—and alway
When I remember it, my mind
Is to go there once more to find
That morning long since left behind.
When last I saw it,—and alway
When I remember it, my mind
Is to go there once more to find
That morning long since left behind.
And still I stir not, though I know
That close at hand it winds below;
And so the time slips idly on,
Till all is shadowy and unknown;—
Now then at once I will begone.
That close at hand it winds below;
And so the time slips idly on,
Till all is shadowy and unknown;—
Now then at once I will begone.
18
There comes a blinding cloud of rain
And blots all waymarks out again;
Darkness comes on, and it is night,
And suddenly before my sight
Something breaks off the memory quite.
And blots all waymarks out again;
Darkness comes on, and it is night,
And suddenly before my sight
Something breaks off the memory quite.
Again and yet again it calls,
That noise of streaming waterfalls;—
What does it matter, wind or rain?
A few steps bring me there again,
And I shall know it sure and plain.
That noise of streaming waterfalls;—
What does it matter, wind or rain?
A few steps bring me there again,
And I shall know it sure and plain.
And passing that, what came the next
Is somewhat to my sense perplext;
But after no long while our feet
Were on a down whose turf made flee
The miles, with thyme and eyebright sweet.
Is somewhat to my sense perplext;
But after no long while our feet
Were on a down whose turf made flee
The miles, with thyme and eyebright sweet.
The white clouds in the clear blue sky!
Why do the dull dark days go by,
And heavy toils chain down, and care,
While all that open noon is there,
The thistledown upon the air?
Why do the dull dark days go by,
And heavy toils chain down, and care,
While all that open noon is there,
The thistledown upon the air?
19
The careless speech, the sunny hours,
The untired limbs,—and all are ours.
Is it not strange that we who knew,
Meet not more often to renew
The joys so easily that grew?
The untired limbs,—and all are ours.
Is it not strange that we who knew,
Meet not more often to renew
The joys so easily that grew?
And from those grassy slopes, I know
A deep and hollow wood below
We entered,—but beyond no more
Can I recall: these paths of yore
Meseems some wave has here swept o'er.
A deep and hollow wood below
We entered,—but beyond no more
Can I recall: these paths of yore
Meseems some wave has here swept o'er.
I know that at the end of all
There was another waterfall:
But this one from an awful height,
A wonderful and far-famed sight
Fell roaring down and lost in night.
There was another waterfall:
But this one from an awful height,
A wonderful and far-famed sight
Fell roaring down and lost in night.
This was our pilgrimage's goal;
Not far,—for twas a morning's stroll
But if it still be there I doubt,
So many years have blotted out
The paths and country all about.
Not far,—for twas a morning's stroll
But if it still be there I doubt,
So many years have blotted out
The paths and country all about.
20
This moment must I seize to seek,
Or all may vanish as I speak;
So many a day, so many a year
Of fruitless wishes hovering near,
While yet the very scene is here.
Or all may vanish as I speak;
So many a day, so many a year
Of fruitless wishes hovering near,
While yet the very scene is here.
Still I am here—what binds me fast?
Another vision too is cast
Before me, of a field full-blown
I wandered into once alone,
And ever since its place is gone.
Another vision too is cast
Before me, of a field full-blown
I wandered into once alone,
And ever since its place is gone.
It lies high up the meadow land,
All round it other meadows stand,
No landmark shows it—unaware
I entered one cool evening there
Through the grey grasses tall and fair,
All round it other meadows stand,
No landmark shows it—unaware
I entered one cool evening there
Through the grey grasses tall and fair,
Rustling around my knees to pass;
But tall amid the flowering grass
Stood pale rare flowers, long sought unseen,
Orchis, day-lily, and helleborine,
And others crowding through the green.
But tall amid the flowering grass
Stood pale rare flowers, long sought unseen,
Orchis, day-lily, and helleborine,
And others crowding through the green.
21
They vanished with the setting sun,
Before I stooped to gather one;
Nor will they reappear; but still
I wander on with dreaming will,
To find another western hill.
Before I stooped to gather one;
Nor will they reappear; but still
I wander on with dreaming will,
To find another western hill.
But this was far—so far—away,
I reached it but at close of day,
And many a hill which now is lost
I rounded tired and travel-tost,
And many a rivulet I crost.
I reached it but at close of day,
And many a hill which now is lost
I rounded tired and travel-tost,
And many a rivulet I crost.
Till suddenly, I know not how,
I came out on the purple brow,
All mantled with the heather hue;
And mid the bracken-gold I knew
One straight stalk where the moonwort grew.
I came out on the purple brow,
All mantled with the heather hue;
And mid the bracken-gold I knew
One straight stalk where the moonwort grew.
But, facing full, the setting sun
Sank down again, and all was done;
Yet in that moment's russet glow
I caught blue glimpses far below
That seemed like fairy-land to show.
Sank down again, and all was done;
Yet in that moment's russet glow
I caught blue glimpses far below
That seemed like fairy-land to show.
22
And as I trod the lonely ground,
So deep a sense of peace breathed round,
I seemed the borderland to press
Of some enchanted wilderness
Springing in unknown loveliness.
So deep a sense of peace breathed round,
I seemed the borderland to press
Of some enchanted wilderness
Springing in unknown loveliness.
Could I once more that summit win,
It seems as if there would begin
A golden way on every side,
Stretching into the moorland wide,
Irradiate and glorified.
It seems as if there would begin
A golden way on every side,
Stretching into the moorland wide,
Irradiate and glorified.
But when I ponder on the quest,
All things are difficult at best;
Right out of mind the way has past,
And if I find it at the last,
The evening will be closing fast.
All things are difficult at best;
Right out of mind the way has past,
And if I find it at the last,
The evening will be closing fast.
Therefore at least it would be wise
At earliest daylight to arise,
And start;—then if good hap attend,
I might have there, ere daylight end,
Some hours of afternoon to spend.
At earliest daylight to arise,
And start;—then if good hap attend,
I might have there, ere daylight end,
Some hours of afternoon to spend.
23
How many hours, how many days,
How many years the self-same ways
Of thought and memory I have traced.
Now or no more!—At once make haste!
—And still the moments run to waste.
How many years the self-same ways
Of thought and memory I have traced.
Now or no more!—At once make haste!
—And still the moments run to waste.
| A Book of Dreams | |