n s-ioi ^ "'''l:-"'7^'c:u-'''?'i'''f;;'^^?'feli '^^.OnsUW^ -p -r/.^^^,~:^. .1.- \'\ ■/■.i--.. i;-'-^ ','fii- i.r-LKse .«? a .i: - w^'-' "^ '•--■• jS m 'iC'^ ^,x^/7^/. Cornell University Library PR 5101.M57G2 Gathered poems of Ernest Myers ... 3 1924 013 529 098 gg \4 Cornell University ^ Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013529098 GATHERED POEMS GATHERED POEMS OF ERNEST MYERS Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever venerable, whatsoever lovely, think on these things. 3Lonli0n MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1904 jiil rights reserved TO THE AUTHOR'S CHILDREN Most of the poems in this selection have been formerly published but are now out of print. To these others hitherto unpublished have been added. Thanks are due to the proprietors of the Cornhill Maga:cine^ the St. 'James's Gazette^ and the Spectator for leave to reprint 'Alfred of England,' ' To Britain Half-armed,' ' Pacisque Imponere Morem,' and 'The Veterans at the Delhi Durbar.' VII CONTENTS HELLENICA— The Judgment of Prometheus Achilles Rhodes . DORIEUS Kallikratidas Pindar . Philhellene The Boy and the Dolphin The Love-lore of Moschus The Lament of Moschus The Olympic Hermes -. 3 i6 •7 24 28 30 31 37 39 40 41 LOCA CARMINE DIGNA- Arcadia Ithome . 49 53 CONTENTS PAGE A Tomb at Athens . . 54 Syracuse . . 56 Lugano .... .58 Vallombrosa ... .61 High Street Fell, Westmoreland . . 62 The Spirit of the Fell . . 64 Folkestone Cliff . . . .66 A Common in Kent . . . .68 Tintagel . . . .71 Champions of Italy ... 73 Italia Una . . 78 The Painter's Death-hour . 80 Fiorentina . . 84 A Singer 86 A Dirge ... 88 A Mourner's Dream Sweet Water and Salt Winter Waste . Arousal . ... 97 A March Day . 98 Midsummer Twilight . . . .100 Probation . . . .102 The Master-Art . . . 104 Darwin . . . .105 90 92 94 CONTENTS XI James Spedding . "The Sea-Maids' Music' PAGE 106 LOVE'S COMMON KINGDOM— The Robe of Light I II Life within Life 112 The Year's Seal •13 Infant Touch .... •15 Infant Eyes .... 117 The River of Love 119 Milton .... 120 A Song of the Thames 121 Gordon ..... 123 To Britain half-armed 128 A Farewell, 1901 132 Alfred of England 13+ To the Army in Africa '37 Pacisque Imponere Morem 138 The Veterans at the Delhi Durbar . 141 The Days of Old 144 Pervigilium Anim:e 148 The Toils of Time '5+ Deus Evocat .... 157 Night ..... 158 HELLENICA THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS Strife having arisen between Zeus and Poseidon for the sake of Thetis, daughter of Nereus the sea-god, Prometheus was delivered from bondage on Caucasus and called to declare the award of Fate, known to him alone. Now through the royal hall, for Heaven's dread Lord Wrought by the Fire-king's hand, the assembled Gods, Upon the morn appointed, thronging ranged Expectant ; mute they moved, and took their thrones, Gloom on their brows, though Gods ; so dark the dread Of huge impending battle held their hearts. Battle of brother Kings, Heaven and the Sea In duel dire, convulsive war of worlds. 3 4 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS So mused they all, and highest throned the Sire, Lord of the lightning ; on one side his Queen, On the other, not less nigh, his chosen child Pallas, most dear of all his race divine. Somewhat aloof, yet in the upper hall. The King Poseidon sate, and round his throne Ocean, and all great Rivers of the world. And all Sea-powers, and hoary Nereus nigh, Nereus the ancient prophet, Thetis' sire. Full many dooms he knew of days to be. Yet fate of his own child no whit foresaw More than the rest, and with the rest must wait Sore wondering : she in a cool cave the while, Her maiden chamber, far beneath the foam, Trembling abode, till Iris flashing down Should stand on the sea-cliiF, and with clear voice Hail her betrothed, and call her forth to hear The dread assignment of her destined lord. Silent the Gods sate all, but now the sound They caught of coming steps, and from the door THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS 5 Hermes drew nigh, and at his side a Form August, of godlike presence, paced the hall. Like to those heavenly Gods yet diverse he. Not quite akin he seemed nor alien quite, Of elder race than they, no seed of Zeus, Earthborn although divine, and conqueror crowned From wrestling long with pain, to other Gods Rare visitant. On his immortal brow, Ploughed by strange pangs, anguish unknown in Heaven, Dwelt weightier thought than theirs, more arduous love. With one accord the congregated Gods In sudden homage from their golden thrones Rose up for reverent greeting, as he came. Then, as he gained their midst, the Thunderer spake : " Hail, wondrous Titan, Earth's mysterious son. Prophet Prometheus ! In this hour of need Welcome thou art returned among the Gods, Thyself a God : assume thy place, sit there Acknowledged arbiter : what present doubt 6 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS Distracts our race divine thou knowest well Already, and already know'st no less The doom revealed that must that doubt dissolve. Judge then, for all the Powers of Heaven are here Expectant, and await thy final word." He said, and all the assembly, when he ceased. Murmuring well-pleased assent, had turned their gaze There where the Titan sate, deep -plunged in thought ; Yet not for long ; scarce had the murmur sunk To silence, when his answering voice was heard : " Gods, and ye Kings of Heaven and of the Sea, Who here demand my doom oracular, That word of Fate ye seek, I bid you hear. Not unto you, world-ruling Thrones divine, Hath Fate this bride awarded whom ye woo. Downward, far downward, bend your search, O Gods, To once-despised earth, where lies a land, lolcus named, nigh to Olympus' foot. THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS 7 There seek the sea-maid's lord by Fate assigned — A man, and born of woman, but his blood From thy celestial ichor, Sire of Gods, Nathless derives ; nor yet in earth nor heaven Beats any heart more valiant or more pure. He hath been tried and hath sore trial borne As steel of surest temper, true at need, Or as that ashen spear from Pelion's woods, His weapon huge that none may wield but he, Peleus, the son of thy son whom erewhile The daughter of the River, once thy love, Bare thee on earth : on Peleus falls the lot. To him this bride is given, but with her bears A sign inseparable, which to learn Shall leave ye well content to yield to-day What might infer far sorer sacrifice. Thus hath Fate spoken : whosoe'er he be That weds the sea-maid Thetis, unto him. Or man or God immortal, must she bear A son that shall be mightier than his sire. Kings of the sky and sea, mark well this word. No more let Peleus for his God-wooed bride 8 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS Be envied, or if envied, only then For lowliness that calms the fear of fall. What hurt have men, brief beings of a day. If thus their sons succeeding top their power ? No hurt but joy, to mark the younger fame Build up the gathering glory of their race. But if, coeval in undying prime. Some mightier son, as needs the mightier must, On trident or on lightning laid his hand, With unimagined iteration dire Rousing wild memories of an elder world. Ruins and revolutions hidden deep In Time's dark gulf whereto no eyes revert. Far other deed were that, far other doom." He ended, and the assembly all amazed At that unlooked-for sentence, in great awe On the two sovran Brethren bent their eyes. No whit had either moved, but on the Seer Kept their large gaze majestic, fixed and full. Then, as one impulse in the twain had stirred, From both with one accord their high assent THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS 9 Rolled through the solemn stillness, deep and clear : " So be it as thou sayest, Voice of Fate." Therewith in confirmation those great Gods, Immortal and imperial, bowed their brows. Heaven stirred at that dread sign, and Earth afar Thrice rocked responsive, heaving all her seas. Again the Thunderer spake : " Titan, thy task Is ended, but not ended be thy stay Among thy peers, this company of Gods. Here is thy place prepared, here dwell content. Our counsellor at need, our new-won friend. Rest here at ease, and learn the unfolded tale By all these ages wrought in Heaven and Earth, And changeful tribes of men, thy chosen care. Once loved by thee alone ; but now, be sure. There is no God that hath not linked his name, Perchance his race, to human hope and fear. Stay then, for change by change is recompensed, And new things now wax old, and old are new." He spake, and all the approving throng divine With acclamation free applauded loud, lo THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS Bidding the Titan welcome and all hail ; Henceforth, they cried, a counsellor of Heaven, Interpreter of Fate, and friend of Man, But when their greeting ceased, and sought reply. He raised his eyes, and with slow-moving gaze Looked round on that celestial company. Then with deep voice and mild he answering said : " Deem not, O Gods, I lightly prize your call. Thought of inveterate wrong, no longer now By hourly instant anguish riveted. Hath fallen from my soul, and left her free To sweep on ample circles of her wing Amid dim visions, slowly growing clear. Of rolling age on age, her proper realm. Her proper lore ; yet all I gladly learn : Either of this new kindlier life of Heaven, Or of that once-scorned world of suffering men. Whereto your world is linked for ever now. Right gladly would I hear, yet not as one Quite shut from knowledge all these exiled years. Think ye' my Mother dear, deep-murmuring Earth, Could find no means of message, when I lay THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS ii On the bare rock between her breast and Heaven ? — That starry Heaven that made me know my life Not unbefriended of celestial Powers, Though other than Olympian ; year by year, Through height ineffable of frozen air, Stooped the keen stars, and graved upon my soul. In fateful characters of golden fire. Deep and more deep, their slow-unfolding lore. And more of what they told I too must tell, Sometime, not now : enough of things to be Hath been to-day revealed. But now, O Gods, Farewell ; I may not tarry for your voice, Your friendly voice ; but other voices call. Inaudible to you, but to this heart Admonitory, o'ermastering, deeply dear. Yea, my racked being yearns for great repose, Deep sleep and sweet, almost the sleep of death : And after that, long time my life must pause In meditative musing, now no more Pierced by abrupt assault of arrowy pain. Not here my place of rest ; far hence I seek 12 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS Beyond or world of Gods or world of men, The Tower of ancient Kronos, where he dwells Amid the Blessed Isles, his final home, The habitation of a holy calm. There evermore the West-winds dewy-winged, Borne o'er the Ocean-river, lightly breathe ; And over all that sweet and solemn realm Broods a mild golden light of mellow beam. Less bright by far than this celestial splendour, A low warm light, as of eternal eve. And there are gathered, or shall gather soon. All my dear kindred, oiFspring of the Earth, The brotherhood Titanic, finding there Harbour desired, and after sore exile Rejoining well content their ancient King. Nor these alone ; for to that saving shore A race far other surely shall be called. Of seed far humbler sprung, but by decree Of dooms august, that doom both God and Man, Raised to high meed, the spirits of just men Made here companions of immortal Gods ; THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS 13 Themselves perchance — grudge not, O seed of Heaven ! — Destined, despite their clay, to conquer death. There for long years, how long I know not yet. My lot is fixed with that dear folk to dwell ; But not for ever ; sometime yet to be (Thus far I know and tell) I come again, To counsel, and to do, and to endure. But whether to this glorious hall of Heaven, Or whether unto Man's long-suffering brood, I know not — nay nor even surely know If this my shape wherein I stand to-day Be changed at my new coming : on such wise Wears my great Mother many a form and name, Yet holds through all her one identity. Thus may I too. Or if the time shall come When all the stored counsel of my soul Is spent, and all mine oracles outworn. There shall not fail a prophet in my place. Some hand to bear the torch, new wisdom bringing Wiser than Promethean ; yet that too Taught him not only by the all-teacher Time, 14 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS But by long toil and travail, hate and love, Design, and disappointment, and defeat. And by rapt converse held with Earth, and Stars, And with deep hidden well-springs of the world. But now to my much-yearned-for rest afar I must begone. Wherefore, for that long way, I pray ye, deathless Presences of Heaven, Suffer one moment in your shining halls The appointed convoy that shall bear me hence. They wait without, and now are near at hand. My strength is spent in speaking : Gods, farewell." He ceased, but with his word they saw descend Two Shapes benign that with wide-hovering wing, Noiseless as birds' that through the brooding night Flit all unheard, and of like feathery form. Close to the Titan's side came floating down. Well known the one, and welcome even in Heaven, For even in Heaven who shall not welcome Sleep ? But round his brother twin a halo hung, Wellnigh invisible, a filmy veil. And his calm lips were paler : through the Gods THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS 15 A brief scarce-heeded shudder lightly ran At that mild Presence, for they looked on Death. Not for dominion came he there that day, But helpmeet of his brother, bound with him To welcome succour of the weary God. So to his side those Forms fraternal drew. His faint eyes half had closed, his failing head Sank on the breast of Sleep : together both Raised him with reverent touch, and spread their plumes Inaudibly. One beat of those wide wings. Fraught with their sacred burden, bare them forth ; And in a moment, lo, the heavenly hall Held them no more, but far they fleeted on Down through the glimmering deep of empty air. ACHILLES Athwart the sunrise of our western day The form of great Achilles, high and clear, Stands forth in arms, wielding the Pelian spear. The sanguine tides of that immortal fray, Swept on by Gods, around him surge and sway. Wherethrough the helms of many a warrior peer. Strong men and swift, their tossing plumes uprear. But stronger, swifter, goodlier he than they. More awful, more divine. Yet mark anigh ; Some fiery pang hath rent his soul within. Some hovering shade his brows encompasseth. What gifts hath Fate for all his chivalry ? Even such as hearts heroic oftenest win ; Honour, a friend, anguish, untimely death. 16 RHODES Beyond the ages far away, When yet the fatefvd Earth was young, And 'mid her seas unfurrowed lay Her lands uncitied and unsung, The Gods in council round their King Were met for her apportioning. Then shook the Sire the golden urn Wherefrom the lots leapt forth to view, And God by God took up in turn The symbol of his kingdom due ; Till each had linked some heavenly name To human hope and human fame. 17 c 1 8 RHODES When lo, a footstep on the floor, A radiance in the radiant air ; A God august, forgot before. Too late arrived, was lastly there — The Sun-god from his fiery car Unyoked beneath the evening star. Then said the Sire : " For thee no lot, O Sun, of all the lots is drawn, For thy bright chariot, well I wot, Hath held thee since the broadening dawn. But come, for all the gods are fain For thy fair sake to cast again." " Nay now, for me is little need New lots to cast " (so spake the Sun) ; " One isle assign me for the meed Of that diurnal course I run : Behold beneath the glimmering sea A land unclaimed, the land for me." RHODES 19 Therewith he shot an arrowy ray Down through the blue ^gean deep ; Thrilled by that magic dart of day, The hidden isle shook off her sleep. She moved, she rose, and with the morn She touched the air, and Rhodes was born. Then all about that starry sea There ran a gratulating stir. Her fellows for all time to be In choral congress greeting her. With air-borne song and flashing smiles, A sisterhood of glorious isles. And still as from his car on high Her Lord his daily splendour sent. She joyed to know his gladdening eye On her, his best-beloved, was bent : And ever in that fostering gaze Grew up the stature of her praise. 20 RHODES What^early wondrous might was hers, The craftsmanship of cunning hands, Of that wise art the harbingers Whose fame is uttered through all lands. Then Rhodians by the Sun-god's side Besought Athene to abide. She came, she loved the Rosy Isle, And Lindos reared her eastward fane ; To Rhodian chiefs she brought the while New thoughts, new valiance in her train, New hope to bind about their brows The olive of her Father's house. Then won Diagoras that prize Yet fairer than his forest crown, That voice whereby in godlike wise His name through time goes deathless down. In graven gold her walls along Flamed forth the proud Pindaric song. RHODES 21 She too her own Athenians stirred To that fair deed of chivalry, That high imperishable word That set the Rhodian Dorieus free, And linked in unison divine Her Lindian to her Attic shrine. Bright hours, too brief ! The shadowing hand Half barbarous of a giant form Even the strong Sun-god's loyal land Must wrap in mist of sombre storm, When HeUas bowed, her birthright gone, Beneath the might of Macedon. Yet even then not lightly bound Was Rhodes of any vanquisher ; With all his engines thundering round The City-stormer ^ stormed not her. In vain : anon the Roman doom Had sealed her spirit in the tomb. ' Demetrius Poliorcetes. 22 RHODES Long ages slept she. Then a dream Once more across her slumber shone, Cleaving the dark, a quickening gleam AU-glorious as in days foregone ; A new God's presence nobler far Than any Lord of sun or star. He showed her him whose prophet eye Hailed him with homage first and best ; " For John," he said, " my herald high. Stand forth, a champion of the West, Sealed with my name, and his in mine. Our vanguard in the war divine." She rose, she stemmed the Moslem flood That roared and ravined for her life. Till drop by drop the knightly blood Was drained in that stupendous strife ; Then, sole amid the o'erwhelming sea. Sank in heroic agony. RHODES 23 Twice born, twice slain ! all this is o'er Three hundred years ; yet may there be (So strong a life is in thy core), O Rhodes, another birth for thee. Look up, behold this banner new. The white cross on the field of blue. Through all the Isles the broadening light Creeps on a sure but lingering way. And half are in the fading night And half are in the dawning day : Thou too, O Rhodes, shalt make thee one Once more with freedom and the Sun. DORIEUS In the year 406 B.C., seven years after the annihilation of the Athenian army before Syracuse, the Athenian fleet took prisoner one Dorieus, a member of the great Rhodian house of the Eratidai, who had brought ships to the aid of Sparta against Athens. Dorieus had himself been thrice crowned at Olympia, and his father Diagoras had won the boxing-match there in the year 464, when Pindar wrote for him the ode called the Seventh Olympian, which the Rhodians engraved in letters of gold in the temple of Athene at Lindos. It was the custom of the time either to release prisoners of war for a ransom or else to put them to death. The Athenians asked no ransom of Dorieus, but set him free on the spot. Queenly Athens, those were years of anguish, Since thy proud host perished o'er the foam, Left to rot upon the field, or languish Pent in Dorian prison-pits of doom : From that dire defeat Turn'st thou back to meet Foes without and fiercer foes at home. 24 DORIEUS 25 Yet in those nine years, when need was sorest, How thy high heart stirs and strives alway ! Still the Queen of Light, whom thou adorest. Breathes some brightness through the dolorous day : As we read, the page Glows with noble rage ; Deadly wounded, thou hast turned to bay. But, more glorious than thy glorious anger, Shines thy sudden mercy in its stead ; Clutched by death, nor agony nor languor Bows the bearing of thy regal head : Fearless yet and free Say est thou, " I am she, Athens yet, though half my force be fled. " Ay, amid this darkened age and dwindled. Still my sons have memory of their fame ; Now for one fair moment see rekindled One divine spark of the ancient flame ; 26 DORIEUS Know them, now as then, Marathonian men, Champions of the high Hellenic name. " Rhodian Dorieus, thou hast fought to tame me, Fought and failed, and yielded to my spear : Hadst thou conquered, conquest could not shame me. So to thee too can no shame come near ; Still thine eager sight Keeps the battle's light. Still thy brave brow fronts me without fear. " But to mine eyes other light around thee Hovers yet upon thy clustering hair. Light of silvery olive-leaves that crown'd thee When the Great Games hailed thee victor there ; When the mid-month moon Heard the swelling tune Heralding the athlete strong and fair. DORIEUS 27 " Nor in vain the Theban eagle, soaring High in heaven the morning clouds among, Bare thy sire's name for eternal storing, Sealed in labyrinth of splendid song ; Still in golden line From the Lindian shrine Flames his praise the sunlit seas along. " By the spell of those Pindaric splendours, By the old Athenian chivalry. By thy sire, and by my sons, defenders Of that God who crowned both him and thee, Noble Rhodian foe. Gird thy sword and go, Athens gives thee greeting, thou art free." KALLIKRATIDAS The Athenians' magnanimity towards Dorieus was even surpassed in the same year by the Spartan admiral Kallikratidas, a noble exception among his countrymen, who, having taken certain Athenians prisoners of war in Lesbos, set them all at liberty, declaring that he would never keep Hellenes in bondage. A few months afterwards Kallikratidas was killed, leading his fleet at the great battle of Arginusas. " I STRIVE with Athens but to win once more Her equal sword among the guardian band Of powers Hellenic for the Hellenic land. Brothers, bear back this message to her door. There lies the foe eternal, there the war Holy and just." He pointed with his hand Eastward to Susa, o'er the Mysian strand And sinuous bays of that ill-trusted shore. 28 KALLIKRATIDAS 29 O heart heroic, Sparta's noblest son, At what a height thy soaring spirit burns Star-like, and floods thy kind with quickening fire ! Too soon, great heart, thy generous race is run. Too soon the scattered night of hate returns, And dark Lysander's unrelenting ire. PINDAR Son of the lightning, fair and fiery star, Strong-winged imperial Pindar, voice divine, Let these deep draughts of thy enchanted wine Lift me with thee in soarings high and far, Prouder than Pegasean, or the car Wherein Apollo rapt the huntress maid. So let me range mine hour, too soon to fade To the dull presence of the things that are. Yet know that even amid this jarring noise Of hates, loves, creeds, together heaped and hurled. Some echo faint of grace and grandeur stirs From thy sweet Hellas, home of noble joys. First fruit and best of all the western world, Whate'er we hold of beauty, half is hers. 30 PHILHELLENE Grant me all the store of knowledge, grant me all the wealth that is, Swiftly, surely, I would answer. Give me rather, give me this : Bear me back across the ages to the years that are no more, Give me one sweet month of spring-time on the old Saronic shore ; Not as one who marvels mournful, seeing with a sad desire Shattered temples, crumbling columns, ashes of a holy fire ; 3" 32 PHILHELLENE But a man with men Hellenic doing that which there was done, There among the sons of Athens, not a stranger but a son. There the blue sea gave them greeting when their triremes' conquering files Swam superb with rhythmic oarage through the multitude of isles. There they met the Mede and brake him, beat him to his slavish East ; Who was he, a guest unwished-for bursting on their freeman's feast ? There the ancient celebration to the maiden queen of fight Led the long august procession upward to the pillared height. PHILHELLENE 33 Man with man they met together in a kindly life and free, And their gods were near about them in the sunlight or the sea. There the light of hidden Wisdom sprang to their compelling quest ; Ray by ray the dawn from Hellas rose upon the wakening West. Every thought of all their thinking swayed the world for good or ill, Every pulse of all their life-blood beats across the ages still. 34 PHILHELLENE II THE LOST BROTHER AMONG THE NATIONS He is no more, that brother brave and fair, Whose living made the whole world glorious ; His wings are closed, and for no sigh or prayer Shall that bright brother fly again to us. What though the earth hath many a son full strong To the wide brotherhood of peoples born. These to a dark and wingless race belong. And with the mother for their lost one mourn. Alas, and yet of old time not in vain The queen of Eryx and Idalion Wept sore for her Adonis, till again From the grim flood of envious Acheron PHILHELLENE 35 The longed-for Hours slow treading, soft and slow, Bare back her love, delivered from the deep ; But our Adonis no return may know ; He sleeps in silence an unending sleep. Far far away in some enchanted glade, The world's most secret and most solemn place. He sleeps unchanging in the twilight shade. Nor life nor death upon his restful face. Yet some, by grace granted to faithful love, Are thither rapt to gaze upon the shrine. Where on his calm couch in the glimmering grove Lie the bright limbs of the lost boy divine. Thenceforth if any time there come to these Some sweeter melody, some sight more fair. They dream they catch his call among the trees. His golden wings upon the whispering air. 36 PHILHELLENE III Ay, let our fates be such, for such they are : So ordereth the voice oracular Of the slow-moving, ever-moving years. Too stern, too kind, to stay them for our fears ; And our own breasts that know a younger age Our creditor for ampler heritage. Yet whoso anywhiles hath lingered long In that high realm of unforgotten song. This man, methinks, shall never quite set free His soul from that constraining phantasy ; Still sometimes in a lonely place and fair. Where the warm south-winds stir the rainy air And sigh themselves to silence, shall his ear In that low wistful sighing seem to hear From dreamy regions of the elder earth A mournful music sweeter than our mirth ; Some harping of the God of golden head By Delian waters wakened from the dead. Some voice of wailing wood-nymphs amorous Far off, within the folds of Maenalus. THE BOY AND THE DOLPHIN A BAND of boys went bathing to the sea, All fair, but one the first in youthftd bloom : Him marked a Dolphin, tenderest of his kind, Far off, and joined his gambols in the wave. And a great love grew up between the twain : For day by day the boy came to the shore. And day by day his faithful friend was there, And on his back would bear him merrily Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear. But on an unblest morn, what time their mirth Was happiest, and the boy in trustful glee Upon his playmate stretched his limbs at length. And backward leaned, and shouted to his steed. Ay me, the sharp spear of the Dolphin's fin Pierced his fair side and spilt his tender life. 37 38 THE BOY AND THE DOLPHIN So there was no more play between the twain. But that poor friend, perceiving how the foam Was crimsoned all with blood about his track, And the sweet voice, which was his music, hushed, Knew that all joy was slain, and agony Seized him, and he desired himself to die. So to the beach he bore him mournfully Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear ; And on the sand he laid him softly down. And by his side gave up his grieving soul. But the boy's comrades, sorrowing for their mate. Took up the corpse and washed it of the blood. And laid it in a grave beside the sea. Beside the sea, above the wave-washed sand, And by his side they laid the Dolphin dead For sake of that true love he bare the boy. THE LOVE-LORE OF MOSCHUS (Idyl vi) Pan loved his neighbour Echo ; Echo loved A gamesome Satyr ; he, by her unmoved, Loved only Lyde ; thus through Echo, Pan, Lyde, and Satyr, Love his circle ran. Thus all, while their true lovers' hearts they grieved, Were scorned in turn, and what they gave received. O all Love's scorners, learn this lesson true : Be kind to Love that he be kind to you. 39 THE LAMENT OF MOSCHUS (Idyl hi. 106-111) Ay me, ay me, the mallow in the mead, The parsley green, the anise-tendril's ring. Fade all and die, but in due season freed Grow yet again and greet another spring : But we, we men, the mighty and the strong, Wise-witted men, when our one life is o'er, Low laid in earth sleep silently and long A sleep that wins no waking, evermore. 40 THE OLYMPIC HERMES (A statue found at Olympia and ascribed to Praxiteles. On the arm of Hermes is a child said to be Bacchus.) From the dim North, from Ister's fount afar, Behind the blast of winter, where abide The Hyperborean folk, a baneless land, Came Heracles, and bare the silvery bough To shade the plain beside Alpheus' bed. And be a crown of valiance evermore. Therefore through all the golden prime of Earth, When her best race was glad beneath the day, Endured that praise ; and as of stars the Sun Is first, and Gold of metals, as of all Earth's primal gifts to man is Water best. So he who spake for understanding ears 41 42 THE OLYMPIC HERMES Words of divine assignment, crowns of song, Of all fair feasts the Olympic deemed most fair. Here was the home of Zeus, the shrines were here Of Gods and sons of Gods, his lineage high, So many ages worshipt where they dwelt. So many ages after, all forgot ; Whether their carven forms by robber hands Were rapt beyond the sea, or ground to dust, Or whether in the kindly breast of Earth Patient they slept, even as dead bones of men. Sleeping or dead alike they sank from sight. And through the ages no man recked to mourn For their mild brows and presence tutelar. Similitude divine, divinely wrought. But now once more with keen remorseful eyes. And hunger of the heart for beauty dead. Men seek them sorrowing, and with painful hands Upturn the sacred soil till, maimed and rare, Strange clouded fragments of the ancient glory. Late lingerers of the company divine, Arise, like glimmering phantoms of a dream. Yet even in ruin of their marble limbs THE OLYMPIC HERMES 43 They breathe of that far world wherefrom they came, Of liquid light and harmonies serene, Lost halls of Heaven and large Olympian air. Thus slept He long, thus hath He risen so late, The Son of Maia : that the earth no more Holds him in night sepulchral, this to him Is nought, or eyes of gazers ; his own world He bears within him, all untoucht of Time. Yet haply if thou gaze upon the God In reverent silence, even to thee shall flow From that high presence of the unconscious form Some effluent spell, whereby thy calmed soul Shall be indrawn to that diviner world Wherein his soul hath being, fair and free. Unharmed of chance and ruin, lo, his head Bends with half-smile benign above his charge. The little child, the son of Semele, Snatched from the fierce tongues of celestial fire, The insupportable blaze of very Zeus, His mother's doom ; but from his baby soul 44 THE OLYMPIC HERMES The terror of that night hath passed away, And left him blithe on his mild brother's arm, His tender hand on that strong shoulder prest. Hermes, was this thy gift ? Yet well thou knewest How wild a sway that babe full-grown would wield, The God of frenzied brain and blood afire, Fired howsoe'er divinely : yea, but thou Could'st turn these too to glory and delight. Spirit more pure and loftier life of man. For thou into man's teeming thoughts pent up, And inarticulate fancies, didst inbreathe Voice like thine own ; and passion's tuneless storm Sweeping therethrough made sudden melodies. The sweeter for its frenzy, for from thee Came spells of song and speech, from thee the lyre. And where the pillared city's festal folk In sunny mart or shadowed portico Were met for converse, or where athlete youth In emulous games honoured the aU-giving Gods, And native Earth, and immemorial power THE OLYMPIC HERMES 45 Of quickening Rivers that right well had reared Their growing manhood, thy grave smile was there. Interpreter of Heaven, these were not all, Not all thy gifts, though plenteous ; nay, though these Be very good, yet one, the best, remains. For thou, fair lord, thou also, having filled Man's little life so full with act and thought, Leadest him lastly down the darkling road To that dim realm where griefs and gains are dead. Or live as dreams dreamed by a dream-like shade. Were they indeed aught more beneath the noon Of this brave Sun that must himself wax cold ? Who knoweth ? Come, dear Guardian, Guide divine ; For this thou art arisen out of earth That held thee there in Elis sleeping well. Give thou the babe to Rhea ; she no less. Mysterious Mother of an elder Heaven, Hath store of spells to heal the coming gust Of his young madness ; take thy serpent-wand. And gather to thee those thy subject souls 46 THE OLYMPIC HERMES Born out of due time in an alien world, To whom are given, in toil or in repose. So rare, so faint, thine advent and thine aid. They shall not shrink or flutter, as the ghosts Of those impure the avenging arrows slew. But follow firmly on, until they come To some fair congress of the noble dead, Set free from flying pain and flying joy, There find their home, and rest for ever there. LOCA CARMINE DIGNA 47 ARCADIA The Temple at Bassae, dedicated to Apollo the Helper bv the people of Phigaleia after a plague Of all fair scenes let this be called most fair ; Not for the prospect only, plain and hill Upsoaring to the solitary snow Or merged in silver shining of the sea, And these grey columns faintly flushed with rose. Divine in ruin — not for these alone : The Presences of Gods are all around. But now amid the oaks of Arcady Pan passed me, hidden by the russet leaves That trembled at his coming, and I knew By their glad shuddering that the God was there ; And far to the East, where stern Taygetus 49 E 50 ARCADIA Rears his white ridge against the boundless blue, Lo, in the hanging cloud-wreaths hardly seen, Stalk the dread phantoms of the Dorian Twins, Still tutelar, and o'er the tomb forlorn Of their discrowned Sparta watching well. But chiefliest where I stand is holy ground. Helper Apollo ! by that name revered In this fair shrine with song and sacrifice. What sacred prompting urged the votive zeal Of Phigaleian folk so high to build Thy temple, lone amid the lonely hills ? Perchance some townsman fleeing in dark dread From the plague-stricken city of his folk Paused in this place ; then suddenly he was ware Of One who stood beside him, whose bright head Makes even Olympus brighter when he comes. And the sweet air wherein Gods breathe more sweet : No rattling darts of death his shoulder bare. As once at Troy, nor like to night he came. But robed in dewy radiance of the dawn. Almost he might have seemed his Healer Son, Koronis' child, yet more august than he. ARCADIA 51 " Return unto thine house ; the plague is stayed " : So spake he ; and the wondering man returned And found the vision true, and told his folk Of that bright God who helped them, and they heard And worshipt, and with full hearts fervently On this high seat, where in the vision stood That mighty Helper of the hurts of men. They reared this pillared temple chastely fair. This sister of the Athenian maiden-shrine. This Dorian mood breathing through silent stone. O noble symbol of a noble life, A life wherein all vigour and all grace. All quickening impulse and all chastening thought. The inspiration of things old and new, Of high tradition and of bold advance. Should meet to mould a human soul divine, Serene and strong, a healthful harmony ; And all this goodly thing be consecrate Unto that Power of Healing, whose high task Is wrought of Man's hands and of God's alike. Of God as Man, at his most godlike then. 52 ARCADIA Verily such life were as this mountain-shrine, Which seems, albeit of sculptured pediment, Of metope and of cornice left forlorn. Yet not less holy therefore or less fair, Only more filled with moving majesty. . ITHOME It is no God that haunts the cloven crest Of this Messenian mountain of old fame, But thou, the peer of Gods, immortal name, Epameinondas, whom these heights attest Saviour and Father of a race opprest. Even now the diadem of thy towered wall Not quite has crumbled, and shall well recall That day of pride, when, at the imperial hest Of thy strong stamp and splendour of thy spears, Messenia stirred, and sprang to reassume Her ancient heritage of the Dorian peers. Grim Sparta's prey ; and after dolorous gloom Of that long death through thrice a hundred years Arose in scorn of tyrants from the tomb. 53 A TOMB AT ATHENS He goeth forth unto the unknown land, Where wife nor child may follow ; thus far tell The lingering clasp of hand in faithful hand, And that brief carven legend, Friend farewell. O pregnant sign, profound simplicity ! All passionate pain and wild remonstrating Being wholly purged, leave this mere memory. Deep but not harsh, a sad and sacred thing. Not otherwise to the hall of Hades dim He fares, than if some summer eventide A message, not unlooked for, came to him Bidding him rise up presently and ride 54 A TOMB AT ATHENS 55 Some few hours' journey to a friendly house, Through feding light, to where within the West, Behind the shadow of Cithaeron's brows. The calm-eyed sun sank to his rosy rest. SYRACUSE This is the seventh morning since mine eyes Beheld the hallowed plain of Marathon. Seven days : but in the story of the Earth Is writ, From Marathon to Syracuse Are seventy years and seven ; for so long Endured that city's prime which was the world's. In this blue slumbering harbour of the Bay Clashed the great combat of extreme despair, The agony of Athens : those grey slopes Hold yet the cruel quarries where the sun Beat fierce upon the pain of fainting limbs. Which erst upon the great day of the feast Rode radiant to Athene's citadel. City of Theseus, thou too, having dared Much nobly, like thy champion prince of old, 56 SYRACUSE 57 Wert lastly over-daring to thy fall. But not on those dark ways shall Memory pause, Dark ways of Erebus and hounds of hell ; Rather shall she bethink her with what front He met the twy-form monster, Minotaur, Unterrified, and smote, and ended him. And with what thanks round that bold rescuer thronged The clinging hands and glad adoring eyes Of those thirteen, helped by his hand from death. Like danger threatened then the hopes of Earth, O saviour City, when the barbarous host Swarmed westward, and the multitude of isles Trembled, and Thebes Kadmean, and the soil Which bred Achilles ; but thy champion arm Took up the perilous challenge, and struck home. LUGANO Te liquidi flevere lac us What time beneath the southern face Of the two-fronted Alpine pile I lingered for a little space Where the blue lakes in sunlight smile, Full fondly memory may recall How all the purple peaks aglow Burned o'er the steep-set woods that wall The length of lordly Lario. Yet was not that the best-loved time, Nor yet when on the evening air The strange soft bells with answering chime Made sound as sweet as sights were fair. 58 LUGANO 59 But this it was that made my gaze With dreamful reminiscence dim, That through the shining nights and days There seemed a voice that spake of him Who surely on these shores had found. As even on his own Mantuan plain, The graver grace wherewith he crowned The wild and sweet Sicilian strain ; Who haply in the summer-tide, Where browsing goats the chestnut stir, Heard from the mountain's shaggy side The singing of the vine-dresser. Beneath such pure nocturnal skies Menalcas' carol rang afar. And Daphnis hailed with hope-lit eyes The welcome wonder of the Star. 6o LUGANO O sweetest singer, stateliest head And gentlest ever crowned with bay, It seemed that from the holy dead Thy soul drew near to mine that day. And all fair places to my view Were fairer ; such delight I had To deem that these thy presence knew And at thy coming oft were glad : That these to thy last going gave Thine own brave Umbro's elegy ; For thee Cerisio's, Lario's wave, The limpid lakes made moan for thee. VALLOMBROSA English wanderer, where Etruria sings to thee Songs of mountain and of forest fair, Each clear stream with its beech-leaf burden brings to thee Days long flown, wherein Milton wandered there. Scenes youth lit for his ardour and his purity Age raised up when his outer eye was dim : Vallombrosa, thy name through all futurity Blends sweet tones with a sweeter tone from him. 6i HIGH STREET FELL, WESTMORELAND (So called from bearing traces of a Roman road) Imperial Rome, whose footprint sparsely seen Stamps the wide face of thy devolved demesne, Whose mighty works in mighty ruin hurled Lie rare and crumbling o'er the western world ; Where'er thy circling galleries now no more Echo to beast and man their murderous roar ; Or where thy conquering arches high and far Bestride the grey bed of the wondering Gard : — Here too, even here, high on our lonely fell, The paven mountains of thy presence tell. Here where the red deer roam, the curlews cry. The Italian watchword rang beneath the sky : Here in proud march, the indignant dales above, 62 HIGH STREET FELL 63 Flashed the bronze birds of Capitolian Jove : Here to rapt thought thy Phantom shall arise, A faded light of lordship in her eyes, And by sad gaze in silence eloquent Charge on our race her dread admonishment : " The word of Rome to Britain, queen to queen ; Would'st thou still be ? Be not what I have been. What though thy standard with true title claim A milder mastery, a nobler name, What though far nations in the shadowing awe Of thy wide rule lie lapt in peace and law. Earth-girdling armies shall no whit avail In thy dark hour, if in thyself thou fail. Boast not thine arms that stretch so large and long, The heart, the heart — that keep thou pure and strong ! Let not the world, let not God mourn once more A giant empire cankered at the core." THE SPIRIT OF THE FELL Dear foster-father, Spirit of the Fell, Haunter of lonely cliff or hidden well, How wert thou wont, by what fair ways and wild, To lead unseen thy glad enchanted child ! For first his path was o'er the mountain's feet, Where sight and sound of wood and moorland meet : Thence might he hear, the happy summer through. The unwearying murmur of the ring-dove's coo ; There are the flowers, more fair than gardens grow. That by moist rock or scattered boskage blow ; Parnassian stars of tender-veined white, Or the frail wind-flower, the spring's delight ; Thick-teeming woodruflF, dear in balmy death, And, best of all, the wind-swept heather's breath. 64 THE SPIRIT OF THE FELL 65 And therewithal would come to him the sound, Or full or faint, of falling waters round, Where fern and birch beside the deep-cleft pool Quiver in bright spray of the torrent cool, Tempting the headlong plunger from the rock To his glad leap and rushing rapturous shock. Then while his feet through broadening upland rise, Thy hand would lead him on toward the skies. The moss grows greyer and the rock more bare. The wind's voice changes in the lonely air. Then higher yet, beyond the noise of riUs, He drank the holy silence of the hUls. There tarrying late he best might know aright The choral starry congress of the night ; And his still soul in free exulting awe Adored the majesty of duteous law. No further needs the spell that led him on ; He is alone, his gentle guide is gone. Nay, rather deem, both spirits, thou and he. Blend each with each and with Infinity. FOLKESTONE CLIFF (When a tunnel under the English Channel was planned.) " Let there be Sea," God said, and there was Sea ; And in the midst thereof an Island set, Wherein the roving strength of nations met. And reared a rugged fortress of the free. " Take back thy Sea," men say, if men they be Who thus their fathers' perilous years forget. Nor reck the gathering thunder-cloud, which yet Looms large from many an envious tyranny. Gropers for gold, come forth ! Let be awhile The stifling dark of your disloyal mine : 66 FOLKESTONE CLIFF 67 Here where no feverish fumes the sense beguile, Where reinless waves race by in endless line, Here stand ! Behind you lies the guarded Isle, And on your brows beats free the guardian brine. 1883. A COMMON IN KENT Amid the heather dry and dark The Spring-time throws her magic spark : The gorse-flower's bursting blooms unfold A thousand isles of glowing gold ; Up through his winter wrack outworn Leaps into life the bracken's horn ; The snowy birch-stems hardly seen Shine through their sunlit garb of green ; The bronze-hued oak-leaves haste to follow, With welcome to the homing swallow : On silent wing the swallows sweep, They hunt and play, they build and sleep ; The lark that hailed the hope of spring Still keeps his joyous carolling ; 68 A COMMON IN KENT 69 While a new voice of richer note Pours nightly from the impassioned throat. So through the fairy forest ground The seasons run their lovely round. The wilding fruit-trees bloom their day, The starry splendour of the may : The peerless wild-rose petals breathe Their fragrance to the rugged heath ; Till last the sombre heather swells To August pomp of purple bells. Then when all flowery days are done, In Autumn's mild Elysian sun The russet bracken lights the earth, As bright in dying as in birth. Nor even though deepest winter brood Yields our fair haunt to mournful mood ; Then gleams the holly glad and free In godlike youth immortally ; The tawny pine-stems unafraid Rear their dark towers of changeless shade, And by warm winds or wintry blown Murmur their deep mysterious tone. 70 A COMMON IN KENT The boons of all the moorland year, Each following each, they all are here, Bidding the son of Northland wild Be of his exile half beguiled. Albeit some few leagues apart Groans the grim city's rumbling mart. A rarer fortune who shall find ? So near in place, so far in kind ; To dwell with woodland sight and song, Yet free to join the workers' throng. Dear Brood, for your sake Heaven hath blest This islet of our heathery nest. TINTAGEL All the terror of the trampling Ocean, All the valour of the rooted rock, Now in fiercer now in fainter combat, Clash together here with countering shock. All along the grim defiant rampart Fling the rolling seas their torrent wrack. Leap and leap in wild repeated onset. Roar and reel and fall in fountains back. Long the way those giant waves have journeyed. Warmed by Gulf suns, chill from Labrador, Blended streams amid the broad Atlantic, Doomed to break on stern Tintagel's shore. 71 72 TINTAGEL Tristram, Mark, the weird of wondrous Arthur, Fair Isolt, and all the fateful tale, Phantom forms about their phantom fortress. Haunt the twilight, hovering in the gale. Round the clifF the prow of friend or foeman Swings within the port with sudden wheel ; From the deck there darts a gleam of armour, In the wind there comes a clash of steel. With the sound or on the gleam they vanish ; Crumble all their castle-walls away ; Laid full low in immemorial ruin. None may read their record maimed and grey. Only ever at their post appointed Stand the swart stern crags enduringly. Greaves of Britain, where the mightiest Island Plants a firm foot in the mightiest Sea. CHAMPIONS OF ITALY I Two Chiefs for her Arm and her Voice New Italy found at her need, Garibaldi breaker of bondage, Mazzini sower of seed. By the fair Ligurian gulf were the lives of the twain begun. On the God-wrought Terrace gigantic, the ledges that look to the sun, Where the gold fruits glow thro' the woods dark- leaved by the red sea-caves. And the mild sea laughs to the mountain with numberless laughter of waves ; Where the opaline light of the olive leaps forth to the stir of the breeze, 73 74 CHAMPIONS OF ITALY And above and beneath thro' her boughs gleams the blue of the skies and the seas ; Where Columbus roamed and mused till his lonely purpose was grown To the height of his chosen achievement, the winning of worlds unknown. Long time he too, Garibaldi, beyond the Atlantic foam In the worlds of Columbus wandered, but now to the land of his home He was come at her call to her side with the west wind out of the sea To smite, nor stay from the smiting, till Italy's children be free. O never was champion or chief since the story of battles began More apt for a perilous venture, more lionlike lordly a man. Nor second the force of his fellow, from exile arisen again, Mazzini, Seer prophetic, the Leader and Lover of men. CHAMPIONS OF ITALY 75 For an ardour of old consumed him, the flame of an inborn fire Fed from the first in his heart, when, a child in the home of his sire, He grieved for the scorned and the smitten, and glowed to the deeds of the brave Who gleam thro' the dim generations, more mighty to suffer and save. Steadfast and strong was the flame ; all doubts and desires and fears Fell into its fervour and fed it thro' wasted and wearisome years : In his high-built cell of Savona, alone with the sea and the sky. Or in exile in lands of the North, where the rains drift drearily, One vision stiU clave to his slumbers, all visions amidst and above, One form, even Italy's phantom, the land of his birth and his love. And his heart beat high with resolve, when he saw in the darkness arise 76 CHAMPIONS OF ITALY That face so fair in her sorrow, those wistful memorial eyes. Such and so piteous they seemed, so piteous and holy and pure, As the eyes of the desolate queen who in Ithaca long must endure Drear yearning for him who came not, and wrongs of a lawless race. Year after year she endured, for Athene gave to her grace. Weaving the web in her chamber, or gazing seaward in care For her lord who tarried long ; yet| in fulness of time he was there. Yea, he came when they looked not for him, as sudden noon in the night. And the mean garb fell from his shoulders, and plain in his terrible might He sprang with a shout to the dais and dealt forth the arrows of doom. And the spoilers were broken before him, their ghosts fled away thro' the gloom. CHAMPIONS OF ITALY 77 II Immortal Brethren, saviour spirits fair, Ye were not born to your dear land alone ; Earth's golden book enrols you as her own, And of your honour all the world is heir. For in an age sunk deep in sordid care Ye stUl had ears to list a nobler tone. Ye called to loyal hearts, and led them on, Loyal to love, disdainful of despair. The earthquake and the thunder and the fire. These in your godlike struggle clothed you o'er, And clouds confused of lurid vapour dire. Now in the firmament's untroubled floor Shine your twin stars whereto our souls aspire. Moved with the moving heaven for evermore. ITALIA UNA "What though the branch be broken And fit for winter flame, Yet shows it still a token Of the high wood whence it came." So sang the ancient singer ^ : And, though men deemed her dead. They saw a radiance linger Around that royal head. But lo, the leaves are springing From that dead branch and dry. New life thy breath is bringing, Thou hard-won Liberty. ' Pindar, Pyth. iv. 78 ITALIA UNA 79 And these memorial mountains, And woods of grey and green, And voice of falling fountains, Shall hail thee for their queen : And gates of song and story, Made pure from shame and sin. Roll back to greet the glory Of thy fair feet entering in. Like mighty waters meeting Our voice with hers shall cry — A great acclaim of greeting — England to Italy : A voice of gratulation O'er Alp and plain and sea, Nation to new-born nation. The free soul to the free. THE PAINTER'S DEATH-HOUR It is all done ; I can no longer move This hand, which while it lived could quicken life Even in dead things, but now itself is dead. Farewell best loved, most magic isle of Earth, O suns and moons of Venice, fare ye well ! Nay, but the life is quick again within me, My heart and all my veins are full of fire, Such as the sunset rains upon the sea In mine own Venice, where these eyes must close. Ay, and in this supreme and speechless hour A hundred hundred sounds and sights of glory, Delicious dreams and multitudinous, All memories ten times intensified Even from the extreme intensity of old, 80 THE PAINTER'S DEATH-HOUR 8i Throng on me and overthrow me and make me mad. They are all singing, all the wondrous voices That sang by night in Venice to the moon : The sound of joy august, a people's voice, Proclaiming triumph of Venetian arms ; The sound of sailors' carol, full and clear, Singing the songs of Venice o'er the brine. Children of Hadria, fierce and frank as he ; The sound of lutes, pleading to charmed ears Of women fair as daughters of the gods ; And when these fail, I hear the evening wave Before the black prow ripple soothingly. Or heave large breasts against the marble stair, Softer than doves' ; but softer yet the sound Of answering heart-beats and of whispered love. They are all glowing, all the glorious colours That swelled my soul with rapturous emulation To flash them back to nature, flame for flame. I see the sunrise flush the northern hills, Toraro to Cavallo, range on range ; And all the pomp of man and pomp of God 82 THE PAINTER'S DEATH-HOUR That met beneath the morning on the waves, When the Republic royally went forth With all her armaments and admirals, Banners and blazons ; and the Ring was thrown, And the City wedded to the enfolding Sea. Lo, in this moment all that I have dreamed And all that I have painted, these I am. I am that youth, his hair with vine -leaves crowned, Who feels amid the revel a mailed hand Set on his shoulder, and at the touch awakes The moan of memories unescapable That murmur in his ear. The end is come. I am the wondrous player making music. Into whose human and mysterious eyes Some spirit, speaking through my hand, has breathed The unread open secret of a soul. And I am there where the hot swooning day Broods o'er the teeming stUlness quiveringly. And golden light distils from golden limbs, Bare at the green edge of the summer bower : THE PAINTER'S DEATH-HOUR 83 While sounds of summer pipings, hardly heard, Stir springs of tears that rise not to the eyes. And all that bower with me is sinking slowly Down through the dark earth, with unchanging air. To the dim realm Elysian, where we dream Beneath another sun and other stars. O other sun be thou as fair as this. But kinder ; send me not so soon away ; Lend me more life before the second death. If second death there be, or second life. A cloud creeps up : the lines, the colours reel ; Mine eyes, that longed for light, are tired of it ; My hand lies by me dead ; and I desire A little space at least of gentler dreams. Of gentle dreams a space, or gentler sleep. FIORENTINA O SURELY surely life is fair, And surely surely hearts are true ; Be witness, balm of April air. And boundless depth of midnight blue. The trouble of an hour ago, That seemed to gather round our way. Is vanished as the last-year snow That hid the hUls of Fesole. And softly still the moonlight falls, O love, and makes for thee and me An Eden 'mid the bay-leaf walls, The fragrant bowers of Boboli, 84 FIORENTINA 85 How gendy o'er our spirits move The golden hours we feared would die ! The very flame that threatened Love Has lent us light to see him by. A SINGER A LIGHT from heaven is on her eyes ; Behold her in the choral throng, Transfigured to angelic guise By potency of solemn song : Her soul with starry radiance crowned Floats upward on the sea of sound. What now to her the chilling fate That binds her life in lifelong gyves ? The drear enclosure of her state That without help or hope deprives Her soul of its ambrosial food — More lonely lot than solitude. 86 A SINGER 87 The painter's subtle curve and hue, The poet's high, heart-echoed word, These touch her, but her ear and view Half shrink from what they saw and heard : For while her thought to heaven flies She feels her feet upon the ice. But now she knows no bar divide. For sense and spirit, life and soul Are melted in the music's tide To one serene ecstatic whole : And all her being to the skies Soars rapturous in her voice and eyes. So leave her singing, soaring there, Ere yet the spell have lost its power, Thrilled through by that harmonious air. All glorious for one golden hour ; And dream of some diviner clime Where ecstasy shall vanquish time. A DIRGE Call her not, nay, for she Silently, piteously Called in her misery, And none might aid. Or aiding might not save Aught more than if the grave And ninefold Stygian wave Held her sad shade. Call her not back again. She is gone forth from pain, Call her not back again. O Earth unreconciled Thou might'st have been more mild To this the choicest chQd Of all thy race : But this is still thy care, 88 A DIRGE 89 With wrecks of thy most fair To feed rank growths that bear Foul fruits and base. Think' st thou thine hour of doom Shall thus less fearful loom For this thy self-wrought gloom ? Through night and day roll on, O Earth, till all be gone Whereo'er the sun hath shone Of joy or fear, Until no human sound Disturb thy tear-stained ground In frost eternal bound, A soulless sphere. It shall be better so When no heart aches to know The ancient waste and woe. Call her not back again, She is gone forth from pain, Call her not back again. A MOURNER'S DREAM In dreams I visited the world below, Where waking yet, alas, I may not go. It was that night, I knew it in my dream, Wherein her shade should reach the Stygian stream. On that drear bank, beneath the sombre air, I waited shivering till her shade were there. But envious ghosts closed round me as I stood, Their chill hands on the fountain of my blood. So when she came I could not speak or stir ; I scarce had joy to look once more on her. 90 A MOURNER'S DREAM 91 Shrouded and veiled she to the shore drew nigh Where that grim bark was waiting silently. Still veiled, she took her place within the boat ; She bowed her sweet head down, and knew me not. She knew me not, and the ghosts froze my breath ; Little I won by that foretaste of death. She took her place within the waiting bark, And it moved forth upon that water dark. Then once, but once, her breast heaved suddenly ; Then knew I well, that was a sigh for me. Ah me, but yet beyond this stream, I think. Another water would they have thee drink. But thou by Lethe's river, O my love. Wilt not as yet be fain to drink thereof. SWEET WATER AND SALT Flow on, sweet stream, and let thy bosom calm To the calm rising moon her mirror be ; While moon and sky and earth are breathing balm, Flow on, sweet stream, on to the bitter sea. Thy breast is still, but down thy bank the wings Of gentle airs creeping scarce visibly Stir the quick sap in all green woodland 'things : Wind, quickening stream, on to the barren sea. But now I past where that broad pleasance lay, Sloping to meet thee its long-shadowed lea. While eager children frolicked in the hay : Laugh, happy stream, on to the moaning sea. 92 SWEET WATER AND SALT 93 Then next I came where gleeful boys would lave Their plunging limbs in healthful revelry, Fresh youth made younger by thy freshening wave : Run, youth-loved stream, on to the ancient sea. A boat I past that man and maiden bare Spell-bound in trustful hope and tender glee ; Their whispered words scarce moved the brooding air : Steal, gentle stream, on to the loveless sea. And there again amid rook-haunted trees Didst thou glide past the ivied priory, A symbol hoar of meditative peace : Glide on, still stream, on to the toilful sea. These hours of setting sun and rising moon Had power to melt my mood to moods of thee, And all my soul to thy sweet soul attune : Flow now, kind stream, on to the soulless sea. WINTER WASTE Ah, would that it were summer, once more the summer prime, When the bloom was on the roses and the bees were in the thyme, In the thyme-flower on the moorland, on the roses in the vale, And there the lark was singing, and here the nightingale. O the still and ancient garden where the nightin- gale sang strong Till the brief sweet night was ended and the morning hushed her song : 94 WINTER WASTE 95 Then the earth put on queen's raiment, glad sounds and lovely light, And the wide heaven widened upward, and our spirits climbed the height. Then the great trees swayed their branches and murmured each to each : The chestnut to the cedar, and the lime-tree to the beech ; O the beech's purple splendour and the fragrance of the lime, Glad gifts from thee their giver, O golden summer-time. And yet with all these fair things there were fairer things than these, Bright -winged Hopes that hovered among the murmuring trees ; With beat of magic plumage their flying fanned the air, And their song divine was singing what our hearts imagined there. 96 WINTER WASTE But now the trees moan leafless, the bleak day's pallid eye Gropes on in stealth ignoble o'er his little space of sky. The east wind whines and whisdes, the air is chill and wan, And all the fragrance scattered, and all the glory gone. AROUSAL Hold us not here ; the flowers have ceased to blow, The frost begun : Hold us not here ; we will arise and go, The dream is done. Our feet are set upon a sterner way, And we must on ; Ease, thou hast dwelt with us a summer day, But now begone. Still deem we vain the strifes whose countering cries Clash from afar, Yet through their midst we seek one purer prize, One beckoning star. 97 H A MARCH DAY This day of sleet and evil cheer How different dawned that roving year, Revealing through the half-lit haze The blue divine Ionian bays. How bright beneath Phaeacian trees Anemone and iris glowed, The olives scattering in the breeze Dark fruit upon the flowery road. Ionian earth, Ionian sea Are vanished from me utterly ; The dull roofs drip, almost it seems That sea and earth were fading dreams. So long the wide and deathlike wings Of winter have possest the land, Almost our souls those radiant things Remember not nor understand. 98 A MARCH DAY 99 What then ? The Northman's lot be ours ! Yield we the South her year-long flowers, Her lizard on the glowing stone, Her glittering sea's mild monotone. Though her rich scenes we gladly range And nurse their memory never pale, For all her charm we would not change Our Ocean-mist, our Ocean-gale. Nay, yet wait on, the tardy smile Of Nature to our wintry isle Shall reach, and make us kin once more To that rejoicing southern shore. We too shall feel some morn in May As felt Alcaeus hearkening, When in the Lesbian dales he lay And heard the footstep of the spring. MIDSUMMER TWILIGHT Now doth the Year forget his far-off birth And his wan winter cradle, bare and cold ; He enters on his heritage of Earth, And crowns his brow with the' strong sunbeam's gold. All the long day in the blue deep of sky The silvery floating cloudlets glide and climb ; The roses burn and breathe, and rich July Unlocks the hoarded sweetness of the lime. The pulse of life is beating full and fast. The hum of wings murmurs through tree and flower : Yet that hot life is hushed asleep at last ; And with the hush comes on a holier hour MIDSUMMER TWILIGHT loi Then broods the grey dove, Twilight, grave and fair ; The fitful wind has lightly fled away : Only dumb settings of the tide of air Breathe a faint fragrance from the fields of hay. Voices of children homing cheerily With softened gladness tinkle from afar. They fade, they cease : lo, in the silent sky. Silent and lone, the sister planet star. Then breathes the spell, melodious, magical ; Voices long lost, and voices yet to be. Half on the sense, half on the spirit fall, Like shells that murmur of the murmuring sea. PROBATION I Now, as when sometime with high festival A conquering king new realms inaugurates, The souls of men go up within the gates Of their new-made mysterious palace-hall. And on their ears in bursts of triumph faU Marches of mighty music, while below, In carven cups with far-sought gems aglow, And lamped by shapes of splendour on the wall, The new wine of Man's kingdom flashes free. Yet some among the wonders wondering there Sit desolate, and shivering inwardly Lack yet some love to make the strange thing fair ; Yea, to their sad souls rather seem to be Sheep from the sheepfold strayed they know not where. PROBATION 103 II Withal a still voice in an under-strain Low in Man's heart half audible there seems : " Visions of visions," saith it, " dreams of dreams, What doth thy soul with these, O over-fain To have done with doubt, to rest, and to see plain ? Yet not without a plea thy yearning eyes : How last a gift is patience to the wise ! But thou art born for more than longing pain. Look forth and know thine order among men : Nor sire nor son but even thyself art thou ; The land for them ; thy home is on the sea. Yet shall the wild waves cast thee now and then Some pearl-like word to bind about thy brow : This first : where Love is, must Faith also be." THE MASTER-ART The old-world builder reared his mount of stone With soaring arch and vaulted vastness blent, A firmament within the firmament. The melodist, inweaving tone with tone, Breathes through the organ's peal his music blown And through the choir, till the high roof be rent, And o'er the stars without impediment Dawn some dim vision of the sovran Throne. Thence we go forth, haply to watch forlorn Through some drear night, where no pure anthems roll. Then come, O mightiest master of them all, Poet, at whose divine deep-breathing call Night melts to golden glow, and homeward borne We rest in the Eternal, soul in soul. 104 DARWIN Unresting and unhasting Labourer, Thy faithful toil and eye intuitive, And all the gifts a lavish life can give, Have crowned thee Nature's chosen Interpreter. The attributes august we feign in her Are verily of thy being, and shall live Linked with thy name, what chance soe'er arrive, A memory and a music rich and clear. Therefore henceforth thy spirit evermore Shall seem inhabitant of each thought and thing It pondered ; whether where the murmuring bee Buries his bright plumes in the flowery store, Or where within the coral's rampart ring Sleep the still pools amid the clamorous sea. 105 JAMES SPEDDING (Expositor and defender of Francis Bacon.) Farewell long-musing spirit, mild and wise, That wert like some still tarn among the hills Of thy fair home ancestral, fed by rills That stir unseen its deep translucencies. Beneath the patient gaze of those calm eyes The inveterate crust of errors and of ills That clings around the past, and clinging kills. Fell off, and earth through thee had fewer lies. To serve one honoured Shade thy life was planned. Riches past by, the noise of fame unheard ; For this not over-rashly may we dare To rank thee with the royal-hearted band Upon whose brows is writ the undying word : Not hate but love this soul was born to share} 1881. ' oiTOL (rvv^xSav iXKi, av/iipiXeiv l