My Lyrical Life Poems Old and New. By Gerald Massey |
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ROBERT BURNS.
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 | My Lyrical Life |  |
61
ROBERT BURNS.
A CENTENARY SONG.
A hundred years ago this morn
He came to walk our human way;
And we would change the Crown of Thorn
For healing leaves To-day.
He came to walk our human way;
And we would change the Crown of Thorn
For healing leaves To-day.
A vain recall! The dead men do
Not turn back when the Curtain's down,
To smirk and bow their thanks to you
For after-clap or crown!
Not turn back when the Curtain's down,
To smirk and bow their thanks to you
For after-clap or crown!
And we can only hang our wreath
Upon the cold white Marble's brow!
Though loud we speak, or low we breathe,
We cannot change it now.
Upon the cold white Marble's brow!
Though loud we speak, or low we breathe,
We cannot change it now.
He loved us all! He loved so much!
His heart of love the world could hold;
And now the whole wide world with such
A love would him enfold.
His heart of love the world could hold;
And now the whole wide world with such
A love would him enfold.
'Tis long and late before it wakes
So kindly, yet a true world still;
It hath a heart so large, that takes
A century to fill!
So kindly, yet a true world still;
It hath a heart so large, that takes
A century to fill!
62
But tell the wondrous Tale to-day,
While songs are sung, and warm words said,—
Tell how he wore the Hodden Gray,
And won the Oaten bread.
While songs are sung, and warm words said,—
Tell how he wore the Hodden Gray,
And won the Oaten bread.
With wintry welcome at the door
Did Nature greet him to his lot;
Our royal Minstrel of the Poor,
Cradled in his clay-Cot.
Did Nature greet him to his lot;
Our royal Minstrel of the Poor,
Cradled in his clay-Cot.
There, in the bonny Bairntime dawn,
He nestled at his Mother's knee,
With such a face as might have drawn
The Angels down to see
He nestled at his Mother's knee,
With such a face as might have drawn
The Angels down to see
That rosy Innocent at prayer,
So pure and ready for the hand
Of Her who is Guide and Guardian where
Babes sleep in Silent Land.
So pure and ready for the hand
Of Her who is Guide and Guardian where
Babes sleep in Silent Land.
And there she found her darling Child,
The robust Muse of sun-browned health,
Who nursed him up into the wild
Young heir of all her wealth:
The robust Muse of sun-browned health,
Who nursed him up into the wild
Young heir of all her wealth:
And there she rocked his Infant thought,
Asleep with visions glorious
That hallow now the Poor Man's Cot
For evermore to us:
Asleep with visions glorious
That hallow now the Poor Man's Cot
For evermore to us:
Disguised Angelic Playmates were
Those still ideal dreams of Youth,
That drew it on to Greatness; there
We find them shaped in truth!
Those still ideal dreams of Youth,
That drew it on to Greatness; there
We find them shaped in truth!
63
There, young Love slyly came, to bring
Rare balms that will bewitch the blood,
To dance while happy Spirits sing,
With life in hey-day flood.
Rare balms that will bewitch the blood,
To dance while happy Spirits sing,
With life in hey-day flood.
And there he learned the touch that speeds
Right to the natural heart of things;
Struck rootage down to where Life feeds
At the eternal Springs:
Right to the natural heart of things;
Struck rootage down to where Life feeds
At the eternal Springs:
Before the Lords of Earth he stood
A Man by Nature born and bred,
To show us on what simple food
A Poet may be fed.
A Man by Nature born and bred,
To show us on what simple food
A Poet may be fed.
No gifts of gold for him, no crown
Of Fortune ready for his brow;
But wrestling strength to earn his own;
It shines in glory now!
Of Fortune ready for his brow;
But wrestling strength to earn his own;
It shines in glory now!
He rose up cheery as the Lark—
Our dawn-bird of the better day.
Many weird voices of the dark
In his music passed away!
Our dawn-bird of the better day.
Many weird voices of the dark
In his music passed away!
He caught them, Witch and Warlock, ere
They vanished; all the revelry
Of wizard wonder, we must wear
The mask of Sleep to see!
They vanished; all the revelry
Of wizard wonder, we must wear
The mask of Sleep to see!
Droll Humours came for him to paint
Their pictures; straight his merry eye
Had taken them, so queer, so quaint,
We laugh until we cry.
Their pictures; straight his merry eye
Had taken them, so queer, so quaint,
We laugh until we cry.
64
Meek glimpses of peculiar grace,
Where Beauty lieth, in undress,
Asleep in secret hiding-place,
Hushed in the wilderness:
Where Beauty lieth, in undress,
Asleep in secret hiding-place,
Hushed in the wilderness:
Spring-dawns that open heaven-doors;
Wild winds that break in seas of sound;
Sad Gloamings eerie on the moors;
The murdered Martyr's mound;
Wild winds that break in seas of sound;
Sad Gloamings eerie on the moors;
The murdered Martyr's mound;
Wan, awful Shadows, trailing like
The great skirts of the hurrying Storm;
Bronzed-purple thunder-lights that strike
The woodlands wet and warm;
The great skirts of the hurrying Storm;
Bronzed-purple thunder-lights that strike
The woodlands wet and warm;
And glorious Sunsets, God's good-night,
Is smiled through to our world, and felt;
Make rich his soul by ear and sight,—
Through all his being melt.
Is smiled through to our world, and felt;
Make rich his soul by ear and sight,—
Through all his being melt.
He knew the Sorrows of poor folk,
He felt for all their patient pain;
And from his clouded soul he shook
Lark-like the music-rain.
He felt for all their patient pain;
And from his clouded soul he shook
Lark-like the music-rain.
For them his eyes would brim with balm,
Dark eyes, and flashing as the levin—
Grew at a touch as sweet and calm
As are the eyes in heaven.
Dark eyes, and flashing as the levin—
Grew at a touch as sweet and calm
As are the eyes in heaven.
So rich in sadness is his breast
That tenderness, heaven-mirroring, fills,
As lies the soft blue lake at rest
Among the rugged hills;
That tenderness, heaven-mirroring, fills,
As lies the soft blue lake at rest
Among the rugged hills;
65
And quick as Mother's milk will rise,
At thrill of her babe's touch, and strong,
It heaves his heart, and floods his eyes,
And overflows his song.
At thrill of her babe's touch, and strong,
It heaves his heart, and floods his eyes,
And overflows his song.
In Life's low ways, and starless night,
The Poor so often have to creep
Where Manhood may not walk full-height,
And this made Robin weep.
The Poor so often have to creep
Where Manhood may not walk full-height,
And this made Robin weep.
But none dare sneer, who see the tear
In Robin Burns's honest eye,
With all the weakness, it comes clear
From where the Thunders lie.
In Robin Burns's honest eye,
With all the weakness, it comes clear
From where the Thunders lie.
Such Ardours flash from out that dew,
And quiver in its pearl of pain;
The Spirit of Lightning thrilling through
A drop of tempest-rain!
And quiver in its pearl of pain;
The Spirit of Lightning thrilling through
A drop of tempest-rain!
Of all our Birds the Robin he
Is darling of the gentle Poor;
His nest is sacred, he goes free
By window or by door:
Is darling of the gentle Poor;
His nest is sacred, he goes free
By window or by door:
His lot is lowly, and his wings
Are only of the homely brown,
But in the dreary day he sings
When gayer friends have flown,
Are only of the homely brown,
But in the dreary day he sings
When gayer friends have flown,
And hoarded up for us he brings,
In that brave breast of bonny red,
A gathered glory of the Springs
And Summers long, long fled.
In that brave breast of bonny red,
A gathered glory of the Springs
And Summers long, long fled.
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Even so all Birds of Song above,
To which the poor man smiling turns,
The darling of his listening love
Is gentle Robin Burns:
To which the poor man smiling turns,
The darling of his listening love
Is gentle Robin Burns:
His Summer soul our Winter warms,
He makes a glory in our gloom;
His nest is safe from all the storms,
For ever in our Home.
He makes a glory in our gloom;
His nest is safe from all the storms,
For ever in our Home.
Come in, dear Bird, with all the glow
Of life and love that brims thy breast;
A warmth to melt the winter snow
In Poortith's coldest nest.
Of life and love that brims thy breast;
A warmth to melt the winter snow
In Poortith's coldest nest.
When Hesper through some shady nook
Sparkles on Lovers face to face,
Where drooped lids shade a burning look,
With beauty's shyer grace—
Sparkles on Lovers face to face,
Where drooped lids shade a burning look,
With beauty's shyer grace—
And holy is the hour for love,
And all so silent comes the Night,
Lest even a breath of faërie move
That poise so feather-light—
And all so silent comes the Night,
Lest even a breath of faërie move
That poise so feather-light—
Where two hearts weigh, to blight or bless,
Till swarming like a summer hive,
The inner world of happiness
With music grows alive—
Till swarming like a summer hive,
The inner world of happiness
With music grows alive—
There as Life aches so, heart in heart,
And hand in hand so fondly yearns,
Love shakes his wings, and soars and sings
The song of Robin Burns.
And hand in hand so fondly yearns,
Love shakes his wings, and soars and sings
The song of Robin Burns.
67
Auld Scotland's Music waited long,
And wandered wailing through the land,
Divinely yearning in her wrong,
And sorrowfully grand;
And wandered wailing through the land,
Divinely yearning in her wrong,
And sorrowfully grand;
And many touched responsive chords,
But could not tell what She would say;
Till Robin wed her with his words,
And they were One for aye.
But could not tell what She would say;
Till Robin wed her with his words,
And they were One for aye.
His Ministers of Music win
Their way where night is all so mirk,
You scarce can see the Devil in
The darkness at his work,
Their way where night is all so mirk,
You scarce can see the Devil in
The darkness at his work,
Or feel the face of friends from foes;
But these Song-Spirits softly come,
And lo! a light of heaven glows
Within the poorest home.
But these Song-Spirits softly come,
And lo! a light of heaven glows
Within the poorest home.
On either side the hearth they glide,
And take the empty seat of Care,
Immortal Presences that bide
In blessed beauty there.
And take the empty seat of Care,
Immortal Presences that bide
In blessed beauty there.
They set us singing at our work,
Or, where no fitting voice is found,
Out-smiles the music that may lurk
In thoughts too fine for sound.
Or, where no fitting voice is found,
Out-smiles the music that may lurk
In thoughts too fine for sound.
They weave some pictured tints that shine
Luminous in life's cold gray woof;
They make the vine of Patience twine
About the barest roof.
Luminous in life's cold gray woof;
They make the vine of Patience twine
About the barest roof.
68
More sweet his Songs, to him who plods
Shut up in smoky city prison,
Than to the cagèd Lark cool sods
Cut ere the sun be risen.
Shut up in smoky city prison,
Than to the cagèd Lark cool sods
Cut ere the sun be risen.
The Soldier feels them as a spring
Of healing 'mid the Indian sand;
They gush within him, and they bring
Him news of the Old Land!
Of healing 'mid the Indian sand;
They gush within him, and they bring
Him news of the Old Land!
With them the Sailor warms his heart,
By night upon the wintry sea;
With them our Serfs ennobled start
I' the knighthood of the Free!
By night upon the wintry sea;
With them our Serfs ennobled start
I' the knighthood of the Free!
Ah, how some old sweet Cradle-song
The Exile's wandering heart still brings
Home! home again, with ties as strong
As Love's own leading-strings.
The Exile's wandering heart still brings
Home! home again, with ties as strong
As Love's own leading-strings.
We hug the Homestead, and more near
The fresh and fonder tendrils twine
To make our clasp more close for fear
Our dear ones we may tine.
The fresh and fonder tendrils twine
To make our clasp more close for fear
Our dear ones we may tine.
Think how those Heroes, true till death,
In Lucknow listened through the strife,
And held what seemed their latest breath
They had to draw in life,
In Lucknow listened through the strife,
And held what seemed their latest breath
They had to draw in life,
69
To hear the old Scots' Music dear
Ask, down the battle-pauses brief,
As Havelock's men, with fire and cheer,
Swept in to their relief—
Ask, down the battle-pauses brief,
As Havelock's men, with fire and cheer,
Swept in to their relief—
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?”
Through flaming hell we come! we come!
To keep that pledge, not given for nought
Around the hearth at home.
Through flaming hell we come! we come!
To keep that pledge, not given for nought
Around the hearth at home.
“We'll tak a cup o' kindness” yet,
For Scotland dear, and Auld Lang Syne;
Ay, though that cup be redly-wet
With blood as well as wine.
For Scotland dear, and Auld Lang Syne;
Ay, though that cup be redly-wet
With blood as well as wine.
“And here's a hand, my trusty friend,”
And then it seemed the dear Old Land
Did burst their tomb, the death-shroud rend,
With Robin Burns's hand.
And then it seemed the dear Old Land
Did burst their tomb, the death-shroud rend,
With Robin Burns's hand.
How dearly Robin loved the Land
That gave such gallant Heroes birth;
Its wee blue bit of heaven, and
Its dear green nook of earth.
That gave such gallant Heroes birth;
Its wee blue bit of heaven, and
Its dear green nook of earth.
Where he once looked with tender gaze,
In all our way-side wanderings,
Shy Beauty lifts her veil of haze,
And smiles in common things.
In all our way-side wanderings,
Shy Beauty lifts her veil of haze,
And smiles in common things.
More precious is the purple heath,
The bonny broom of beamless gold;
And sweeter is the mellow breath
Of Autumn on the wold!
The bonny broom of beamless gold;
And sweeter is the mellow breath
Of Autumn on the wold!
70
The Daisy opes its eye at dawn,
And straight from Nature's heart so true,
The tear of Burns peeps sparkling! an
Immortal drop of dew!
And straight from Nature's heart so true,
The tear of Burns peeps sparkling! an
Immortal drop of dew!
With eyes a thought more kindly, we
Look on all dumb and helpless things;
In his large love they stand, as He
Had sheltered them with wings.
Look on all dumb and helpless things;
In his large love they stand, as He
Had sheltered them with wings.
Down by the singing burn we greet
His voice of love and liberty;
High on the bleak hill-side we meet
His Spirit blithe and free!
His voice of love and liberty;
High on the bleak hill-side we meet
His Spirit blithe and free!
And on this land should Foe e'er tread,
He will fight for it at our side,
Flame on our Banners overhead,
In songs of victory ride.
He will fight for it at our side,
Flame on our Banners overhead,
In songs of victory ride.
A hundred years ago To-day,
The great and glorious Stranger came;
Men wondered as he went his way
A wild and wandering flame.
The great and glorious Stranger came;
Men wondered as he went his way
A wild and wandering flame.
The fiercer fire of life, confined,
With higher wave will heave and break,
And higher should the mountain-mind
Thrust up its starward peak:
With higher wave will heave and break,
And higher should the mountain-mind
Thrust up its starward peak:
But often is the kindling clay
With its red lavas rent and riven,
And Earth holds up a wreck to pray
The healing hand of Heaven.
With its red lavas rent and riven,
And Earth holds up a wreck to pray
The healing hand of Heaven.
71
Around his soul more sternly warred
The powers that smite for Wrong and Right;
And thunder-scathed and battle-scarred,
Death bore him from the fight.
The powers that smite for Wrong and Right;
And thunder-scathed and battle-scarred,
Death bore him from the fight.
But now we recognize in him,
One of the high and shining race;
All gone the mortal mists that dim
The fair immortal face.
One of the high and shining race;
All gone the mortal mists that dim
The fair immortal face.
The splendour of a thousand Suns
Is shining! and the tearful rain
No more with passionate pathos runs;
He counts his grief our gain.
Is shining! and the tearful rain
No more with passionate pathos runs;
He counts his grief our gain.
The sorrow and suffering, soil and shame
All gone! all far away have passed;
He sitteth in the heavens of fame,
With quiet crowned at last.
All gone! all far away have passed;
He sitteth in the heavens of fame,
With quiet crowned at last.
The prowling Ghoul hath left his grave,
Hushed is the praying Pharisee;
His frailties fade, his Virtues brave
Live everlastingly.
Hushed is the praying Pharisee;
His frailties fade, his Virtues brave
Live everlastingly.
For us he wrought imperishably,
The lowly-born, the peasant's Son;
We weep exulting tears that he
So proud a place hath won!
The lowly-born, the peasant's Son;
We weep exulting tears that he
So proud a place hath won!
And such a Crown to bind thy brow,
Thy glorious Child hath gained for thee,
Thou gray old nurse of Heroes! thou
Proud Mother, Poverty!
Thy glorious Child hath gained for thee,
Thou gray old nurse of Heroes! thou
Proud Mother, Poverty!
72
Look up! and let the big tears be
Triumphant, touched with sparks of pride;
Look up! in his great glory ye
Are also glorified.
Triumphant, touched with sparks of pride;
Look up! in his great glory ye
Are also glorified.
Or weep the tear that Pity wrings
To think his brightness he should dim;
Then 'tis the drop of heart-ache brings
Us nearer unto him:
To think his brightness he should dim;
Then 'tis the drop of heart-ache brings
Us nearer unto him:
'Tis here we touch his garment; here
The poorest or the frailest earns
The right to call him kinsman dear,
Our Brother, Robin Burns.
The poorest or the frailest earns
The right to call him kinsman dear,
Our Brother, Robin Burns.
In fires of suffering far more fair
We forge the precious bond of love.
Ah, Robin, if God hear our prayer
'Tis all made well above,
We forge the precious bond of love.
Ah, Robin, if God hear our prayer
'Tis all made well above,
And you who comforted His Poor
In this world, have eternal home
With those He comforteth, His Poor!
In all the world to come.
In this world, have eternal home
With those He comforteth, His Poor!
In all the world to come.
Dear Highland Mary went before
To plead for you in saintly sooth,
Whom she remembered when you wore
The purity of Youth.
To plead for you in saintly sooth,
Whom she remembered when you wore
The purity of Youth.
With those high Bards who live for aye,
Your faults and failings all forgiven—
May there be festival to-day,
And a great joy in Heaven!
Your faults and failings all forgiven—
May there be festival to-day,
And a great joy in Heaven!
73
The truth afar off found at last;
The triumph rung impetuously
Through all that Crystal Palace vast
Of white Eternity.
The triumph rung impetuously
Through all that Crystal Palace vast
Of white Eternity.
Dear Robin, could you but return
Once more, how changed it all would be;
The heart of this wide world doth yearn
To take you welcomingly:
Once more, how changed it all would be;
The heart of this wide world doth yearn
To take you welcomingly:
Warm eyes would shine at windows; quick
Warm hands would greet you at the door,
Where oft they let you pass heart-sick,
So heedlessly of yore!
Warm hands would greet you at the door,
Where oft they let you pass heart-sick,
So heedlessly of yore!
And they would have you wear the Crown
Who bade you bear the crushing cross;
Their glorious gain was all unknown,
Until they felt the loss:
Who bade you bear the crushing cross;
Their glorious gain was all unknown,
Until they felt the loss:
The cup you carried was so filled,
The pressing crowd, so eager round,
Dragged down your lifted arm, and spilled
Such dear drops on the ground!
The pressing crowd, so eager round,
Dragged down your lifted arm, and spilled
Such dear drops on the ground!
How we would comfort your distress,
Would see you smile as once you smiled,
And hold your hands in silentness,
Strong man and little child!
Would see you smile as once you smiled,
And hold your hands in silentness,
Strong man and little child!
Your poor heart heaving like the waves
Of seas that moan for evermore,
And try to creep into the caves
Of Rest, but find no shore—
Of seas that moan for evermore,
And try to creep into the caves
Of Rest, but find no shore—
74
Poor heart! come rest thee from the strife;
Come, rest thee, rest thee in the calm,
We'd cry: come bathe a weary life
In Love's immortal balm!
Come, rest thee, rest thee in the calm,
We'd cry: come bathe a weary life
In Love's immortal balm!
We cannot see your face, Robin!
Your flashing lip, your fearless brow;
We cannot hear your voice, Robin!
But you are with us now:
Your flashing lip, your fearless brow;
We cannot hear your voice, Robin!
But you are with us now:
Although the mortal face is dark
Behind the veil of spirit-wings,
You draw us up as Heaven the Lark
Whose music in him sings.
Behind the veil of spirit-wings,
You draw us up as Heaven the Lark
Whose music in him sings.
With tender awe we feel you near,
You make our lifted faces shine;
You brim our cup with kindness here,
For sake of Auld Lang Syne.
You make our lifted faces shine;
You brim our cup with kindness here,
For sake of Auld Lang Syne.
We are one at heart as Britain's sons,
Because you join our clasping hands,
While one electric feeling runs
Through all the English lands.
Because you join our clasping hands,
While one electric feeling runs
Through all the English lands.
And near or far where Britons band,
To-day the leal and true heart turns
More fondly to the fatherland
For love of Robin Burns.
To-day the leal and true heart turns
More fondly to the fatherland
For love of Robin Burns.
| My Lyrical Life | |