 | In Russet & Silver |  |
1
In Russet & Silver
2
Life, that, when youth was hot and bold,
Leaped up in scarlet and in gold,
Now walks, by graver hopes possessed,
In russet and in silver dressed.
Leaped up in scarlet and in gold,
Now walks, by graver hopes possessed,
In russet and in silver dressed.
3
IN RUSSET AND SILVER
This body, that was warm of old,
And supple, grows constrained and cold,
These hands are drawn and dry, these eyes
Less eager as they grow more wise.
And supple, grows constrained and cold,
These hands are drawn and dry, these eyes
Less eager as they grow more wise.
The sunlight where I used to lie
And bathe as in a pool of sky,
Is now too violent and bold,
And makes my nerves ache. I grow old.
And bathe as in a pool of sky,
Is now too violent and bold,
And makes my nerves ache. I grow old.
When I was young, and did not know
The blessedness of being so,
Stray glances set me on the rack,
And sent strange shivers down my back.
The blessedness of being so,
Stray glances set me on the rack,
And sent strange shivers down my back.
But now those very glances seem
To come from phantoms in a dream;
The unknown eyes that flashed, divine,
Must now be middle-aged, like mine.
To come from phantoms in a dream;
The unknown eyes that flashed, divine,
Must now be middle-aged, like mine.
4
And tho' I'm blithe and boisterous yet,
With all my cronies round me set,
There enters one who's really young,
And I grow grey. My knell has rung.
With all my cronies round me set,
There enters one who's really young,
And I grow grey. My knell has rung.
Then let me waste no whimpering mood
On languid nerves and refluent blood,
But at this parting of the ways
Take counsel with my length of days.
On languid nerves and refluent blood,
But at this parting of the ways
Take counsel with my length of days.
For this is health, it seems to me,
And not an ill philosophy,
To rise from life's rich board before
The host can point me to the door.
And not an ill philosophy,
To rise from life's rich board before
The host can point me to the door.
So, not forgetful of the past,
Nor sulking that it could not last;
Rememb'ring, like a song's lost notes,
The gleaming husks of my wild oats;
Nor sulking that it could not last;
Rememb'ring, like a song's lost notes,
The gleaming husks of my wild oats;
Not, priggish, glorying in a boast
That I have never lov'd nor lost;
Not, puritanic, with a flail
Destroying others' cakes and ale;
That I have never lov'd nor lost;
Not, puritanic, with a flail
Destroying others' cakes and ale;
5
But, with new aims and hopes, prepare
To love earth less, and more haunt air;
And be as thankful as I can
To miss the beast that harries man.
To love earth less, and more haunt air;
And be as thankful as I can
To miss the beast that harries man.
Thank God, that, while the nerves decay
And muscles desiccate away,
The brain's the hardiest part of men,
And thrives till threescore years and ten;
And muscles desiccate away,
The brain's the hardiest part of men,
And thrives till threescore years and ten;
That, tho' the crescent flesh be wound
In soft unseemly folds around,
The heart may, all the days we live,
Grow more alert and sensitive.
In soft unseemly folds around,
The heart may, all the days we live,
Grow more alert and sensitive.
Then, thews and prickly nerves, adieu!
Thanks for the years I spent with you;
Gently and cheerfully we part;
Now I must live for brain and heart.
Thanks for the years I spent with you;
Gently and cheerfully we part;
Now I must live for brain and heart.
6
IMPRESSION
In these restrained and careful times
Our knowledge petrifies our rhymes;
Ah! for that reckless fire men had
When it was witty to be mad.
Our knowledge petrifies our rhymes;
Ah! for that reckless fire men had
When it was witty to be mad.
When wild conceits were piled in scores,
And lit by flaring metaphors,
When all was crazed and out of tune,—
Yet throbbed with music of the moon.
And lit by flaring metaphors,
When all was crazed and out of tune,—
Yet throbbed with music of the moon.
If we could dare to write as ill
As some whose voices haunt us still,
Even we, perchance, might call our own
Their deep enchanting undertone.
As some whose voices haunt us still,
Even we, perchance, might call our own
Their deep enchanting undertone.
We are too diffident and nice,
Too learned and too over-wise,
Too much afraid of faults to be
The flutes of bold sincerity.
Too learned and too over-wise,
Too much afraid of faults to be
The flutes of bold sincerity.
7
For, as this sweet life passes by,
We blink and nod with critic eye;
We've no words rude enough to give
Its charm so frank and fugitive.
We blink and nod with critic eye;
We've no words rude enough to give
Its charm so frank and fugitive.
The green and scarlet of the Park,
The undulating streets at dark,
The brown smoke blown across the blue,
This coloured city we walk through;—
The undulating streets at dark,
The brown smoke blown across the blue,
This coloured city we walk through;—
The pallid faces full of pain,
The field-smell of the passing wain,
The laughter, longing, perfume, strife,
The daily spectacle of life;—
The field-smell of the passing wain,
The laughter, longing, perfume, strife,
The daily spectacle of life;—
Ah! how shall this be given to rhyme,
By rhymesters of a knowing time?
Ah! for the age when verse was glad
Being godlike, to be bad and mad.
By rhymesters of a knowing time?
Ah! for the age when verse was glad
Being godlike, to be bad and mad.
8
DISCIPLINE
My life is full of scented fruits,
My garden blooms with stocks and cloves;
Yet o'er the wall my fancy shoots,
And hankers after harsher loves.
My garden blooms with stocks and cloves;
Yet o'er the wall my fancy shoots,
And hankers after harsher loves.
‘Ah! why,’—my foolish heart repines,—
‘Was I not housed within a waste?
These velvet flowers and syrop-wines
Are sweet, but are not to my taste.
‘Was I not housed within a waste?
These velvet flowers and syrop-wines
Are sweet, but are not to my taste.
‘A howling moor, a wattled hut,
A piercing smoke of sodden peat,
The savour of a roasted nut,
Would make my weary pulses beat.’
A piercing smoke of sodden peat,
The savour of a roasted nut,
Would make my weary pulses beat.’
O stupid brain that blindly swerves,
O heart that strives not, nor endures,
Since flowers are hardships to your nerves,
Thank heaven a garden-lot is yours.
O heart that strives not, nor endures,
Since flowers are hardships to your nerves,
Thank heaven a garden-lot is yours.
9
A WINTER NIGHT'S DREAM
Dreary seems the task assigned me,
Dull the play;
I would fain leave both behind me,
Steal away
Where no hopes nor cares could find me
Night or day.
Dull the play;
I would fain leave both behind me,
Steal away
Where no hopes nor cares could find me
Night or day.
Where the pirate's teak prow grapples
With pure sand,
Where Hesperidean apples
Hem the strand,
Where the silver sunlight dapples
Lake and land.
With pure sand,
Where Hesperidean apples
Hem the strand,
Where the silver sunlight dapples
Lake and land.
In some charm'd Saturnian island
I would be;
Watch, from glens of billowy highland,
Creeks of sea;
Crush the perfumes there awhile, and
Shake the tree.
I would be;
Watch, from glens of billowy highland,
10
Crush the perfumes there awhile, and
Shake the tree.
Round the brows of naked Summer,
Noon and night,
See soft Rest, the rarest comer,
Winding bright
Garlands that would well become her
Blithe delight.
Noon and night,
See soft Rest, the rarest comer,
Winding bright
Garlands that would well become her
Blithe delight.
See dusk eyes and warm brown faces
And sleek limbs
Peer from shadowy, leafy spaces,
Whence there swims
Praise to gods of unknown graces
In strange hymns.
And sleek limbs
Peer from shadowy, leafy spaces,
Whence there swims
Praise to gods of unknown graces
In strange hymns.
Eat cool fruits of foreign flavour,
Drink from shells
Wine of mild, unharmful savour,
Wine that smells
Like a copse when June winds waver
All its bells.
Drink from shells
Wine of mild, unharmful savour,
Wine that smells
Like a copse when June winds waver
All its bells.
11
Live as live full-feeding cattle;
Purge mine ears
From the echoing roar and rattle
Of the years;
Then return to wholesome battle
With my peers.
Purge mine ears
From the echoing roar and rattle
Of the years;
Then return to wholesome battle
With my peers.
12
REVELATION
Into the silver night
She brought with her pale hand
The topaz lanthorn-light,
And darted splendour o'er the land;
Around her in a band,
Ringstrak'd and pied, the great soft moths came flying,
And, flapping with their mad wings, fanned
The flickering flame, ascending, falling, dying.
She brought with her pale hand
The topaz lanthorn-light,
And darted splendour o'er the land;
Around her in a band,
Ringstrak'd and pied, the great soft moths came flying,
And, flapping with their mad wings, fanned
The flickering flame, ascending, falling, dying.
Behind the thorny pink
Close wall of blossom'd may,
I gaz'd thro' one green chink,
And saw no more than thousands may,—
Saw sweetness, tender and gay,—
Saw full rose lips as rounded as the cherry,
Saw braided locks more dark than bay,
And flashing eyes, decorous, pure and merry.
Close wall of blossom'd may,
I gaz'd thro' one green chink,
And saw no more than thousands may,—
Saw sweetness, tender and gay,—
Saw full rose lips as rounded as the cherry,
Saw braided locks more dark than bay,
And flashing eyes, decorous, pure and merry.
13
With food for furry friends,
She passed, her lamp and she,
Till eaves and gable-ends
Hid all that saffron sheen from me:
Around my rosy tree
Once more the silver-starry night was shining,
With depths of heaven, dewy and free,
And crystals of a carven moon declining.
She passed, her lamp and she,
Till eaves and gable-ends
Hid all that saffron sheen from me:
Around my rosy tree
Once more the silver-starry night was shining,
With depths of heaven, dewy and free,
And crystals of a carven moon declining.
Alas! for him who dwells
In frigid air of thought,
When warmer light dispels
The frozen calm his spirit sought,
By life too lately taught,
He sees the ecstatic Human from him stealing;
Reels from the joy experience brought,
And dares not clutch what Love was half revealing.
In frigid air of thought,
When warmer light dispels
The frozen calm his spirit sought,
By life too lately taught,
He sees the ecstatic Human from him stealing;
Reels from the joy experience brought,
And dares not clutch what Love was half revealing.
14
TRISTIA
Cedar, whose boughs complain
Soft in the sheeted rain,
Cypress, who, o'er the dead,
Noddest thy velvet head,
Oaks, thro' whose casements green
Big drops, like tears, are seen,
Yews bending to and fro,
In this wet court of woe—
Soft in the sheeted rain,
Cypress, who, o'er the dead,
Noddest thy velvet head,
Oaks, thro' whose casements green
Big drops, like tears, are seen,
Yews bending to and fro,
In this wet court of woe—
Weep for the hearts that lie
Under day's maudlin eye,
Hearts that in love's red game
Leaped with the blood's bright flame,
Cared not for mist or fog,
Chirruped life's epilogue;
Now in your drip they soak—
Cedar, yew, cypress, oak!
Under day's maudlin eye,
Hearts that in love's red game
Leaped with the blood's bright flame,
Cared not for mist or fog,
Chirruped life's epilogue;
Now in your drip they soak—
Cedar, yew, cypress, oak!
15
PLAYTHINGS
The streets are full of human toys,
Wound up for threescore years;
Their springs are hungers, hopes and joys,
And jealousies and fears.
Wound up for threescore years;
Their springs are hungers, hopes and joys,
And jealousies and fears.
They move their eyes, their lips, their hands;
They are marvellously dressed;
And here my body stirs or stands,
A plaything like the rest.
They are marvellously dressed;
And here my body stirs or stands,
A plaything like the rest.
The toys are played with till they fall,
Worn out and thrown away.
Why were they ever made at all?
Who sits to watch the play?
Worn out and thrown away.
Why were they ever made at all?
Who sits to watch the play?
16
CLASPING THE CLOUD
Iyearn not for the fighting fate,
That holds and hath achieved,
I live to watch, and meditate,
And dream,—and be deceived.
That holds and hath achieved,
I live to watch, and meditate,
And dream,—and be deceived.
Mine be the visionary star
That vibrates on the sea;
I deem Ixion happier far
Than Jupiter could be.
That vibrates on the sea;
I deem Ixion happier far
Than Jupiter could be.
17
NUNC DIMITTIS
In youth our fiery lips were fed
With fruit in lavish waste;
We watch it now hung o'er our head,—
And, now, at length, can taste.
With fruit in lavish waste;
We watch it now hung o'er our head,—
And, now, at length, can taste.
The boisterous pleasures of the boy
Their own deep rapture steal;
I ask no longer to enjoy,
But ah! to muse and feel.
Their own deep rapture steal;
I ask no longer to enjoy,
But ah! to muse and feel.
18
THE SCHOOL OF FAITH
Long time across my path had lain
A far-off bar like gathering rain;
The sunshine beamed along my way,
But this drew nearer day by day.
A far-off bar like gathering rain;
The sunshine beamed along my way,
But this drew nearer day by day.
I walked amid a laughing throng,
I plucked the flowers, I sang my song;
But all the time my load of care,
My bar of threatening cloud, was there.
I plucked the flowers, I sang my song;
But all the time my load of care,
My bar of threatening cloud, was there.
Some day, I knew, that bar must break
In tempest, fatal for my sake;
And in my heart of hearts I laid
My secret, and was sore afraid.
In tempest, fatal for my sake;
And in my heart of hearts I laid
My secret, and was sore afraid.
And yet it caught me by surprise;
Loud thunders pealed across the skies;
Ere I had time for craven fear
The hour had struck. The end was near.
Loud thunders pealed across the skies;
Ere I had time for craven fear
The hour had struck. The end was near.
19
With lips and lids set hard together
I sank upon the springy heather;
I said farewell to pleasant things,
And waited for the angel's wings.
I sank upon the springy heather;
I said farewell to pleasant things,
And waited for the angel's wings.
When, oh! the marvel! through the rain
Came odours exquisite as pain;
A softer warmth, like lovers' breath,
Danced on my cheek instead of Death.
Came odours exquisite as pain;
A softer warmth, like lovers' breath,
Danced on my cheek instead of Death.
The birds around me sang in choirs;
My eyes unclosed to clearer fires;
The storm was only sent to purge
Of cloud my sky from verge to verge!
My eyes unclosed to clearer fires;
The storm was only sent to purge
Of cloud my sky from verge to verge!
20
AN EVENING VOLUNTARY
A wreath of Turkish odour winds
Among my books in red and gold.
The philosophic spirit finds
Peace through the pain of growing old.
Among my books in red and gold.
The philosophic spirit finds
Peace through the pain of growing old.
The warm blue perfume melts and fades
Around the glowing shaft of gas;
And every nervelet that upbraids
Takes comfort from the pangs that pass.
Around the glowing shaft of gas;
And every nervelet that upbraids
Takes comfort from the pangs that pass.
Purer the folding air repeats
The cones of smoke that upward slope,
And lucid grows the brain that beats
Less turbid with the pulse of hope.
The cones of smoke that upward slope,
And lucid grows the brain that beats
Less turbid with the pulse of hope.
The spirals melt in fragrant mist,
And through that mist my books shine clear;
Life dips in soberer amethyst
The twilights of the fainting year.
And through that mist my books shine clear;
Life dips in soberer amethyst
The twilights of the fainting year.
21
Throb, winding belts of odorous light!
Youth spurns me from its brilliant zest;
But age has yet its prime delight,
For thought survives, and thought is best.
Youth spurns me from its brilliant zest;
But age has yet its prime delight,
For thought survives, and thought is best.
22
SECRETA VITÆ
Like that green marble tower of yore
From which the great carbuncle shone,
When Floris climbed to Blanchiflor
High in the heart of Babylon,—
So steep, so smooth, so hard to reach,
The lesson only Life can teach.
From which the great carbuncle shone,
When Floris climbed to Blanchiflor
High in the heart of Babylon,—
So steep, so smooth, so hard to reach,
The lesson only Life can teach.
She from her window, sighing, leaned
Among the basil-pots and myrrh,
And watched those roses, daily gleaned,
The amorous Emir sent to her;
She sighed; nor dreamed that rose would be
A ladder to her heart set free.
Among the basil-pots and myrrh,
And watched those roses, daily gleaned,
The amorous Emir sent to her;
She sighed; nor dreamed that rose would be
A ladder to her heart set free.
Before her door the flowers lay heaped;
But, heedless while she sat, and span,
Out of the trampled roses leaped
A nameless mother-naked man;
Yet o'er his shoulders straight she threw
The mantle trimmed with watchet blue.
But, heedless while she sat, and span,
Out of the trampled roses leaped
A nameless mother-naked man;
23
The mantle trimmed with watchet blue.
By steps unseen, by cords unknown,
Life scales the tower that hems our hearts;
The soul sits languid and alone,
When, sudden, into flame it starts.
Whence came the stranger? Who can tell?
What matters, now that all is well!
Life scales the tower that hems our hearts;
The soul sits languid and alone,
When, sudden, into flame it starts.
Whence came the stranger? Who can tell?
What matters, now that all is well!
Between the swallows and the stars
To wait is all that hope can do;
Between the weary window-bars,
To watch the fading belts of blue;
To wait, and hold a balanced mind,
Till Life his promised bride shall find.
To wait is all that hope can do;
Between the weary window-bars,
To watch the fading belts of blue;
To wait, and hold a balanced mind,
Till Life his promised bride shall find.
Ah! for the simple guileless faith
That raves not at the bolts of fate;
Ah! for the patient tongue that saith
“Though late he cometh, not too late!”
The heart that beats in coolest rhyme
With “God's good time,” and “in God's good time.”
That raves not at the bolts of fate;
Ah! for the patient tongue that saith
“Though late he cometh, not too late!”
The heart that beats in coolest rhyme
With “God's good time,” and “in God's good time.”
24
Here in my marble tower I sit;
Ah! sick of pacing to and fro;
But the hour's vast ruddy lamp is lit
And stains with rose the world below;
He surely comes! the night-air sings
With tremors of his rushing wings!
Ah! sick of pacing to and fro;
But the hour's vast ruddy lamp is lit
And stains with rose the world below;
He surely comes! the night-air sings
With tremors of his rushing wings!
Long sought, long dreamed of, long withstood,
Cajoled by youth, and foiled by sin,
Ethereal Love! immortal Good!
O, thine own pathway to me win;
Nor let me faint in hopeless strife,
Until I clasp the core of life!
Cajoled by youth, and foiled by sin,
Ethereal Love! immortal Good!
O, thine own pathway to me win;
Nor let me faint in hopeless strife,
Until I clasp the core of life!
| In Russet & Silver | |