 | A collection of poems by Ernest Radford |  |
1
I. PART I.
3
DEDICATION.
The world grows older while I tendThe light before thy shrine,
But still the peaceful river runs
Its course through realms of mine,
And still the curtain falls at night,
And still the stars do shine,
And still the mountain streamlet sings
To one for ever thine.
4
THE SEA-SPELL.
What says the placid ocean
When the streamlet greets the sea?
“Room here, room here, my daughter,
For as much as reaches me.”
When the streamlet greets the sea?
“Room here, room here, my daughter,
For as much as reaches me.”
However far from home, Love,
In whatsoever grave,
There cannot fail me ministers
Of the music that I crave;
The rattle of the moorland stream,
The murmur of the wave.
In whatsoever grave,
There cannot fail me ministers
Of the music that I crave;
The rattle of the moorland stream,
The murmur of the wave.
The all-sufficient emblems
Of Life and Love to me,
My course is with the rivulet
That speeds towards the sea.
Is there a deeper love, Love,
Than this that greeteth thee?
Of Life and Love to me,
My course is with the rivulet
That speeds towards the sea.
Is there a deeper love, Love,
Than this that greeteth thee?
6
DEMETER.
The emblem of her station,Upon her forehead bound;
The noblest woman-figure
That Art has ever crowned:—
Oh! Mother, Mother, Mother,
Of the children crowding round,
Does the love-song of thy lover
In the dome o'erhead resound?
The Song of Songs, no other,
Ten Thousand voices found.
8
WILLIAM MORRIS.
Sweet Thames, flow softly as my tears flow.
To Kelmscott Manor, this October morn,
To rest beside thee is my master borne,
And I of those who loved him, may not go.
To Kelmscott Manor, this October morn,
To rest beside thee is my master borne,
And I of those who loved him, may not go.
Because he sorrows best at home, they say,
Who grieves in silence, leaving all unsaid,
Because perhaps, since London gives him bread,
He may not leave her, even for a day.
Who grieves in silence, leaving all unsaid,
Because perhaps, since London gives him bread,
He may not leave her, even for a day.
They would have died to save him who have borne
The brunt of this long battle with the foe;
And they are with him:—naught of empty show
At Kelmscott Manor, this October morn.
The brunt of this long battle with the foe;
And they are with him:—naught of empty show
At Kelmscott Manor, this October morn.
Oct. 6, 1896.
13
SHADOWS.
Bend we together,
Husband and wife,
O'er a child sleeping,
Dearer than life.
Say we together,
Husband and wife,
“The painting will never
Be true to the life.”
Husband and wife,
O'er a child sleeping,
Dearer than life.
Say we together,
Husband and wife,
“The painting will never
Be true to the life.”
Heavy the footfall,
Batèd the breath,
Quit we the chamber
Held by Death.
“Seek ye in marble,”
The comforter saith,
“The semblance of living
The silence of Death.”
Batèd the breath,
Quit we the chamber
Held by Death.
“Seek ye in marble,”
The comforter saith,
“The semblance of living
The silence of Death.”
14
VOCES POPULI.
Lay by him, since 'tis broken
The staff he leanèd on,
And this, the lover's token
That lips have dwelt upon.
The staff he leanèd on,
And this, the lover's token
That lips have dwelt upon.
'Tis not the dead, the living,
That this, ah this, must bear;
Too late to be forgiving,
Too soon to join him there.
That this, ah this, must bear;
Too late to be forgiving,
Too soon to join him there.
“More sinned against than sinning”:—
“No fault of his the pain”:—
“The poet's guerdon winning”:—
While tears fall like rain.
“No fault of his the pain”:—
“The poet's guerdon winning”:—
While tears fall like rain.
15
TRANSLATION.
[On the high mountain range]
On the high mountain rangeThere is rest.
Of wind
Not a breath
On its crest.
In the forest—
Hush, hush,
It is late—
No call of the bird
To his mate.
Lullèd to slumber,
Folded to breast,
“Soon,” saith our Mother,
“Thou too shalt rest.”
16
TRANSLATION.
[Where shall one all travel-weary]
Where shall one all travel-weary
Courting rest at last recline?
In the South beneath the palm tree?
Under lindens by the Rhine?
Courting rest at last recline?
In the South beneath the palm tree?
Under lindens by the Rhine?
Shall it be upon the desert
Covered by a stranger's hand,
Or on billows undulating
Far from any Christian land?
Covered by a stranger's hand,
Or on billows undulating
Far from any Christian land?
Onwards ever—Heaven hanging
Shrouds above me, there and here;
While for torches, stars at midnight
Overhead are burning clear.
Shrouds above me, there and here;
While for torches, stars at midnight
Overhead are burning clear.
18
PRAYER FOR THE RACE.
Mother of mothers,
God grant to thee
Strength that strength may be.
God grant to thee
Strength that strength may be.
One who unchangingly
Loves and reveres,
Penneth these words to thee,
Blindly through tears.
Loves and reveres,
Penneth these words to thee,
Blindly through tears.
Tears that betoken not
Weakness in strife,
But fond irrepressible
Tributes to life.
Weakness in strife,
But fond irrepressible
Tributes to life.
Mother of mothers,
God grant to thee
Strength that strength may be.
God grant to thee
Strength that strength may be.
| A collection of poems by Ernest Radford | |