 | Easter Lilies for nineteen hundred and fifteen |  |
1
Easter Lilies.
The Lilies of Earth's Easter-tideCome year by year to say:
Fair Life for ever shall abide,
Though fair lives pass away.
2
The Golden Record.
The Angel of the Record writes
In blood and tears their roll
Who leave sweet life and its delights
To save their nation's soul.
In blood and tears their roll
Who leave sweet life and its delights
To save their nation's soul.
In blood and tears the roll is writ,
Much blotted. But, behold,
God's finger lightly touches it,
And turns each name to gold.
Much blotted. But, behold,
God's finger lightly touches it,
And turns each name to gold.
3
Under the Starlight.
Yon glorious stars, that night by night go down
From the dark world come night by night again.
Not so, alas! the spirits of renown
Who vanish in Death's all-engulfing main.
From the dark world come night by night again.
Not so, alas! the spirits of renown
Who vanish in Death's all-engulfing main.
On what dim seas do they arise and shine?
In what far countries soothe the eyes of sleep?
In what vast orbit round the Light Divine
Do souls, here setting, luminously sweep?
In what far countries soothe the eyes of sleep?
In what vast orbit round the Light Divine
Do souls, here setting, luminously sweep?
4
Nunc est Vivendum.
Oh, not to-day shall the end be
Of tears, nor yet to-morrow!
Life's to live, tho' each day we spend be
A day of sorrow!
Of tears, nor yet to-morrow!
Life's to live, tho' each day we spend be
A day of sorrow!
Dear dead, beloved and sighed for,
In many a green mound lying!
How shall we make the lives ye died for
Worthy your dying?
In many a green mound lying!
How shall we make the lives ye died for
Worthy your dying?
5
‘Hold on!’
Stout be your hearts, and fail not
As the fitful battle sways!
Strong be your souls, and quail not
Though victory long delays!
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
These be thy Judgment Days!
As the fitful battle sways!
Strong be your souls, and quail not
Though victory long delays!
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
These be thy Judgment Days!
Weary and heavy-hearted,
With the joy of battle spent,
And the light of the eyes departed
As friend or comrade went;
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
This is God's Tournament.
With the joy of battle spent,
And the light of the eyes departed
As friend or comrade went;
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
This is God's Tournament.
6
Ye too, with eyes drained tearless,
Who watch across the seas,
And toil through long days cheerless,
Or pray on weary knees!
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
Thy proof-days too are these!
Who watch across the seas,
And toil through long days cheerless,
Or pray on weary knees!
Hold on, my brother,
This day and another!
Thy proof-days too are these!
7
Freedom Calls.
Hark! who calls? What voices waken
England from her long repose,
Range her thus—old feuds forsaken—
Side by side with ancient foes?
England from her long repose,
Range her thus—old feuds forsaken—
Side by side with ancient foes?
Hark! who calls? What dreams rekindle
Ancient chivalries of France,
Bid the fires that seemed to dwindle
In her eyes again to dance?
Ancient chivalries of France,
Bid the fires that seemed to dwindle
In her eyes again to dance?
Hark! who calls? What spirit quickens
Russia through her mighty frame,
Gathering, as the storm-cloud thickens
Till the lightning leap in flame?
Russia through her mighty frame,
Gathering, as the storm-cloud thickens
Till the lightning leap in flame?
8
Freedom calls! Arise! Confess you
Champions all, ye glorious three!
Strive, till Europe rise and bless you,
Triple-fenced with Liberty!
Champions all, ye glorious three!
Strive, till Europe rise and bless you,
Triple-fenced with Liberty!
9
Russia.
One voice, but million-throated!
One heart, with myriad hands!
One single soul, devoted!
One pulse, that shakes the lands!
One heart, with myriad hands!
One single soul, devoted!
One pulse, that shakes the lands!
Has Earth in all her story
A greater thing to tell?
Valour, that seeks no glory,
Matched soul to soul with Hell!
A greater thing to tell?
Valour, that seeks no glory,
Matched soul to soul with Hell!
10
To Belgium.
Lift thy heart to the Lord, O People,
Though thy head in the dust be laid!
No more are glorious fane and steeple,
No more religion in pride arrayed.
Though thy head in the dust be laid!
No more are glorious fane and steeple,
No more religion in pride arrayed.
Broken images—ruined altars—
Hardly a roof for the thorn-crowned head;
Slain the singers and burnt the psalters—
How shall the ordered rite be said?
Hardly a roof for the thorn-crowned head;
Slain the singers and burnt the psalters—
How shall the ordered rite be said?
Lift thy heart to the Lord, O Nation!
More than these is that faith of thine!
Tho' the house of God be a desolation,
The heart of Man is His dearer shrine.
More than these is that faith of thine!
Tho' the house of God be a desolation,
The heart of Man is His dearer shrine.
11
Under which King?
Who is the King ye are dying for,
Brothers and men of Germany?
Kaiser—Emperor—Lord of War?
Pluck the mask from the face, and see!
Brothers and men of Germany?
Kaiser—Emperor—Lord of War?
Pluck the mask from the face, and see!
Bid for an hour to stand aside
Yon sceptred actor who holds the stage!
What is the Shadow that, stride for stride,
Prompts his motion and pricks his rage?
Yon sceptred actor who holds the stage!
What is the Shadow that, stride for stride,
Prompts his motion and pricks his rage?
Who is the Lord ye are toiling for,
Brothers and men of Germany?
Kaiser—Emperor—Lord of War?
Look to the work of your hands, and see!
Brothers and men of Germany?
Kaiser—Emperor—Lord of War?
Look to the work of your hands, and see!
12
Art and labour and busy brain,
Aching limbs of the pit and forge,
Breathless deeds in the sky or main—
Nought to profit Man, all to scourge!
Aching limbs of the pit and forge,
Breathless deeds in the sky or main—
Nought to profit Man, all to scourge!
Say for whom the Zeppelin flies,
And living men to the deep go down,
And Music, your own sweet daughter, dies,
Wed to a Lord she will not own?
And living men to the deep go down,
And Music, your own sweet daughter, dies,
Wed to a Lord she will not own?
Kaiser—Emperor—Lord of War!
Only a puppet King is he!
Death is the Lord ye are dying for,
Brothers and men of Germany!
Only a puppet King is he!
Death is the Lord ye are dying for,
Brothers and men of Germany!
13
Christmas Morning, 1914.
I slumbered in a dream of dread,
Thunder of cannon in my ears;
Before my eyes were thousands dead,
And in my heart a thousand fears.
Thunder of cannon in my ears;
Before my eyes were thousands dead,
And in my heart a thousand fears.
Is there in Heaven a Love Divine,
Stronger than wickedness and woe?
Or do the Powers of Hell combine
The King of Love to overthrow?
Stronger than wickedness and woe?
Or do the Powers of Hell combine
The King of Love to overthrow?
I wakened in a crystal world;
A silver-point was every tree;
The spider's network, frost-empearled,
Was daintier than filigree.
A silver-point was every tree;
The spider's network, frost-empearled,
Was daintier than filigree.
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Around my spirit's nakedness
A garment of warm thought was wove,
As Nature whispered, Loveliness
Is visibility of Love!
A garment of warm thought was wove,
As Nature whispered, Loveliness
Is visibility of Love!
15
A Dark Night.
What, are the stars yet there,
Sirius, Orion, shining?
Arcturus and the Bear,
Arising and declining?
Sirius, Orion, shining?
Arcturus and the Bear,
Arising and declining?
Yes; from these darkened skies,
Battle and death and sadness,
The eternal lamps shall rise—
Faith, Hope, Love: even Gladness.
Battle and death and sadness,
The eternal lamps shall rise—
Faith, Hope, Love: even Gladness.
16
In Winter.
The woods, that undergo
The fierceness of the wind
And cruelty of the snow,
Change not their mind,
But in their day and hour
Put forth sweet leaf and flower.
The fierceness of the wind
And cruelty of the snow,
Change not their mind,
But in their day and hour
Put forth sweet leaf and flower.
Heart, be it with thee so!
Though the full rage of Death
Fall on thee blow on blow,
Draw deep thy breath
To endure, and after pain
Put on sweet joy again!
Though the full rage of Death
Fall on thee blow on blow,
Draw deep thy breath
To endure, and after pain
Put on sweet joy again!
17
Doubt.
Search now and see
Where Wisdom hides,
If Love there be,
Or Truth abides!
Where Wisdom hides,
If Love there be,
Or Truth abides!
The snow lies deep
On mount and moor,
Our bravest sleep,
And Love is o'er.
On mount and moor,
Our bravest sleep,
And Love is o'er.
Lord of the Spring,
The doubt forgive!
Thy birds yet sing,
Thy flowers live.
The doubt forgive!
Thy birds yet sing,
Thy flowers live.
18
With hills and groves
O heart awake!
And from dead leaves
Bid green hopes break!
O heart awake!
And from dead leaves
Bid green hopes break!
19
In Early Spring.
Still the music of the thrush
Wakes the morning;
Though our hearts would bid her hush
Her blithe warning,
Hearing through her joyous throat
Echoes of another note.
Wakes the morning;
Though our hearts would bid her hush
Her blithe warning,
Hearing through her joyous throat
Echoes of another note.
Still the flowers in woodland ways
Stand entreating,
Though our eyes' averted gaze
Give no greeting,
Fearing 'neath that tender blue
Memories of another hue.
Stand entreating,
Though our eyes' averted gaze
Give no greeting,
Fearing 'neath that tender blue
Memories of another hue.
20
But the Giver of the Spring
Never stayeth
For our sullen looks one thing,
Nor delayeth,
Lest Despair take Sorrow's place,
Saying, God too hides His face!
Never stayeth
For our sullen looks one thing,
Nor delayeth,
Lest Despair take Sorrow's place,
Saying, God too hides His face!
21
The Seed.
In a wild, wild night of tempest,
From its nursing-husk new-freed,
There whirled afar on the storm-wind
A wingèd seed.
From its nursing-husk new-freed,
There whirled afar on the storm-wind
A wingèd seed.
In a wild, wild day of battle,
When struggling nations fought,
There sprang from the soul of a people
A wingèd thought.
When struggling nations fought,
There sprang from the soul of a people
A wingèd thought.
Forests fell in the tempest,
And waste were lawn and lea;
But the seed in the torn earth nestled,
And grew a tree.
And waste were lawn and lea;
But the seed in the torn earth nestled,
And grew a tree.
22
Nations sank in the battle,
Cities in wreck were hurled;
But the thought in silence quickened,
And saved the world.
Cities in wreck were hurled;
But the thought in silence quickened,
And saved the world.
23
Two Sonnets.
I.
[Art thou insatiable, O soul-less Death?]
Art thou insatiable, O soul-less Death?Is thy dread hunger infinite, O Grave?
Enough, enough! For now from hurst and heath
Spring calls, and how shall our dead hearts behave?
Too cruel is the laughter of the wave;
The fluttering Zephyr seems a dying breath;
In this blue Speedwell, Love remembereth
Eyes ne'er again to open clear and brave.
And when, on April evenings, the first star
Brightens before it follow Day to rest,
And in the darkening wood the last-awake
Love-minstrel, from some Heav'n-gate left ajar,
Bid Earth prepare a room for Joy her guest,
Must not the heart—till then enduring—break?
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II.
[Break? Nay! Is there nought mightier in thee]
Break? Nay! Is there nought mightier in thee,O Man, than force which force can overthrow?
Art thou but as the tempest-battling tree,
That yet is broken by soft-falling snow?
Shall Love be tested by the weight of woe
Borne till the burden pass some scaled degree?
Shall Hell but marshal hosts sufficiently,
And man fall unresisting 'neath the blow?
A seed of fire is in the human soul
That tears can quench not. Not our peaceful hours
And prosperous years have made us what we are;
But griefs and labours, and the will-control
Won by resistance to the o'erwhelming Powers—
Hate, Fate, Ill-fortune, and our Evil Star.
25
A Prayer.
Eternal! to the tribes of Man
Revealed as merciful and just,
Since of Thy purpose he began
The part to know, the whole to trust!
We pray Thee in this hour of woe
Thy mercy and Thy justice show!
Revealed as merciful and just,
Since of Thy purpose he began
The part to know, the whole to trust!
We pray Thee in this hour of woe
Thy mercy and Thy justice show!
The wrath of Man shall praise Thee, Lord,
If Thou the lingering feud restrain!
In furrows cloven by the sword
Thy hand can sow a righteous grain.
From graves of rancour bid increase
The vine Goodwill—the olive Peace!
If Thou the lingering feud restrain!
In furrows cloven by the sword
Thy hand can sow a righteous grain.
From graves of rancour bid increase
The vine Goodwill—the olive Peace!
| Easter Lilies for nineteen hundred and fifteen | |