-. '^o V^ K*" ^^^^^^ ''^^<* ^^'^^X^ ^^^*° '^^^'"'^^ ' ^» 4 0» -3 LYRICAL POEMS LUCY LYITELTON LYRICAL POEMS BY LUCY LYTTELTON ^ ^ PORTLAND MAINE THOMAS B MOSHER MDCCCCXII V 2. fK602 5 .A797Lg COPYRIGHT THOMAS B MOSHER I912 ©Ci.A3276 45 x, A S one that keeps an unbeleaguered wall, ■*• -^ From his unthreatened post beholds each day Others go shouting dow7i the road away Unto the battle, hears the bugle call Others to arms, and still the days go by And none requires him, till one mornijtg red He hears the clatter of the courier s tread^ His captain's voice with a new meaning cry. Then from the wall he takes his virgin spear, Girds him with trembling fingers for a fray Long imaged, long desired, after delay Now come at last, his hour, his joy, his fear. So from the quiet shelter of my home I heard your voice, and at your bidding come. CONTENTS PAGE QUOD SEMPER 3 VENI CREATOR .... 6 A VISION 7 A JAPANESE WIDOW ... 9 THE MYSTIC 11 INNOCENTS' DAY .... 13 A WITCH'S SONG .... 15 DREAM GARDEN .... 17 VOX INFIRMITATIS ... 19 ALADDIN 21 THE BLACK MADONNA ... 22 TENEBRi^ 23 THE DEAD SAILOR .... 25 RONDEL OF LONDON ... 26 A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS . 27 SONG OF REVOLUTION ... 29 THE SPHINX 31 UT CARO INFIRMA ... 33 BEFORE SLEEP 34 A RIDING SONG .... 35 Vll CONTENTS FEUILLES D'AUTOMNE . EVEN UNTO THIS DAY . THE CRY OF THE SLAIN CRADLE SONG .... SIMON THE CYRENEAN . THREE YEARS AGO SONG OF AUTOLYCUS MARINER'S SONG WESTMINSTER ABBEY AT MID NIGHT .... THE HARVESTER OF SORROWS A CRY ON CALVARY EVENING HYMN IN A CITY . 36 37 40 41 43 45 46 47 48 49 .SI 52 vm LYRICAL POEMS QUOD SEMPER CHILD HAT wind is this across tiie roofs so softly makes his way, That hardly makes the wires to sing, or soaring smokes to sway ? WIND I am a weary southern wind that blows the livelong day Over the stones of Babylon, Babylon, Babylon, The ruined walls of Babylon, all fallen in decay. Oh, I have blown o'er Babylon when royal was her state, When fifty men in gold and steel kept watch at every gate. When merchant-men and boys and maids thronged early by and late Under the gates of Babylon, Babylon, Babylon, The marble gates of Babylon, when Babylon was great. CHILD Good weary wind, a little while pray let your course be stayed, And tell me of the talk they held and what the people said. The funny folk of Babylon before that they were dead. That walked abroad in Babylon, Babylon, Babylon, Before the towers of Babylon along the ground were laid. WIND The folk that walked in Babylon, they talked of wind and rain. Of ladies' looks, of learned books, of merchants' loss and gain. How such-an-one loved such-a-maid that loved him not again (For maids were fair in Babylon, Babylon, Babylon), Also the poor in Babylon of hunger did com- plain. CHILD But this is what the people say as on their way they go, Under my window in the street, I heard them down below. WIND What other should men talk about five thou- sand years ago ? For men they were in Babylon, Babylon, Babylon, That now are dust in Babylon I scatter to-and- fro. VENI CREATOR OPIRIT of God, Thou whose breath is the ^^ burning flame of a fire, Into the brazier of clay in whose crumbling chalice I keep Under the cumbering ashes a soul that smoulders asleep, Breathe though the clay should consume, breathe, ere the embers expire. Lest all the spirits that throng unseen in the darkness should say, " Surely the sentinel sleeps, for the cresset is empty and dark. O indifferent guard and unkind, to show for us never a spark. Give her no word as you pass, that gives us no light on our way." A VISION /^ WHO are these that gather above the ^-^ glassy sea? These are dead men rising, each in his degree. These are dead men rising to hear their God's decree, For Time is done. " Stand forth, David Morgan, in winter tempests lost." But there came no answer from all the starry host. God spake in heaven above the banners crossed And trumpets blown. " Bring him from the ocean, from the bitter wave and bare, Search the Bay of Biscay from Ushant to Finis- terre. Lapped in ocean tangle you shall find him there, Fathoms down. "Where is Owen Griffiths .f* " Broken and alone Crushed he lies in darkness beneath Festiniog stone. " Bring his broken body before me to the throne For a crown. " Oftentimes in secret in prayer he came to me. Now to men and angels I know him openly. I that was beside him when he came to die Fathoms down. "And, Evan Jones, stand forward, whose life was shut in gloom, And a narrow grave they gave you 'twixt marble tomb and tomb. But now the great that trod you shall give you elbow room And renown. " From the iron cavern, from the bitter tide, Yea I call my chosen to the marriage of the Bride. Up the steep of heaven I call them to my side, And to my throne." A JAPANESE WIDOW V/'ESTEREVE was the fight, and though "*■ far is the alien ocean Where the battleships meeting smote, and thundered, and sank : Though round the staggering hulls the wind is roaring in tempest. Swift is the flight of a soul, soon will the dead be at home. Seemly in porcelain dishes are set the branches I gathered, Where by the window the almond tosses her blossoming boughs. Duly the tablets are graved, and the smoke of the offering rises. And by the doorway the lamp shines through the storm like a star. What is the shape white-winged that is sailing slow by the window ? Only the stork that is flying home to his mate in the reeds. Lo ! as lonely I sit, stirring the slumbering embers. How my desolate heart leaps like a flame in my breast ! ^ Is it but under the storm that the bamboos rustle and shudder? Stand, O ye Mighty, away from the savour till he be refreshed, For the warrior-spirit, weary with flight o'er the ocean, Entered but now in your midst. The dead, my dead, has come home ! 10 THE MYSTIC npH ROUGH all the day our loads we bear, -*■ By common highways we must go, And when at night, we rest, we hear The Voice again, whereby we know Through all the rush of hurrying feet One walked beside us in the street. Then wide your spirit's casement fling, Your censer fill and lift it high ! Behold its flame is flickering Because a Wind is blowing nigh ; Look forth, and see a Shadow fall Upon the common roadside wall. " Folly ! " the world may say ; " We name Your vision empty phantasy. What is the flicker of a flame A wandering shadow passing by?" But we, we know who went unseen Our censer and the world between. O ye that walk this dusty place. Whose spirit in the clamour reels, Whose ears are filled with nothingness, Unmeaning drone of endless wheels. Come walk with us, and you shall learn Whose hands their mighty axles turn. 11 'T is but our nightly way we tread With dizzy brain and bruised feet, While clouds of dust all fiery red Sweep to the sunset up the street, Yet the gloom quivers. Hush ! and hark! Who was it called us from the dark? 12 INNOCENTS' DAY •• /^ WHERE do you come from, chil- r\ WHERE do y^ ^^5 dren, children, Children of the flying hair and shining visage white?" " O, the evening skies were riven. And we tumbled out of heaven, And we run the winter meadows till the coming of the light." "What names are ye called by, children, chil- dren? Above your empty cradles what mother sits forlorn? " " No mother's voice we knew And no mother's breast we drew, And for names, we never bore them, for we died ere we were born." "What have ye forsaken, children, children. To run in furrowed meadows where the winter winds are cold ? " "We have left in heaven high Where the mighty angels fly Our places on the shining steps of Mary's throne of gold." 13 "And how will ye return, my children, chil- dren ? O little-winged and naked limbed, ye cannot fly so far." " O, the good St. John will spread His mantle wide and red, And lift us through the morning and beyond the morning star. He will lift us to the gate where the mighty angels wait. And we shall play their feet among another long year through. For to-night, to-night alone, Forsake we Mary's throne To run the earth a little while, the earth we never knew." 14 A WITCH'S SONG O AITH the bringer of dreams when the day- ^ light was hidden And over the beeches the round moon arose, " Out of the shades where the strawberries redden, Out of the leaves where the flowers unclose, From the green glades where rose-petals, driven By whispering breezes, fall scented and white, What shall I bring you, O what shall I sing you Out of the shadows of midsummer even. Out of the darkness of midsummer night? " From the tall trees shall I bring for your dreaming Ripple and throb of the nightingale's song, Or from still lakes shall I gather the gleaming Shimmers and spreads where the wind goes along ? Shall I bring stars for you out of high heaven Garland the moonbeams to make you delight? What shall I bring you O what shall I sing you Out of the shadows of midsummer even, Out of the darkness of midsummer night ? " Or shall I seek where forgetfulness covers Songs of old revellers, shouts of old strife. 15 Flame of spent torches and vows of dead lovers, Clatter of gallopers riding for life ? Swiftly make choice, for the morning is breaking. Dreams are swift-pinioned, soon lost in delay. What shall I bring you, O what shall I sing you ? Soon dries the dew when the sun is awaking, Who can be dreaming when once it is day?" 16 DREAM GARDEN ENCOMPASSED round about with mighty walls, 'Twixt mill and market all the working day, Our spirits labour till the darkness falls, When none may work and every soul can stray Into the garden still beneath the sky Slumbrous and full of shades that never stir, Where glassy streams are moving silently Through dreaming lotus and red persichier, Where sings no bird in any tangled brake. Nor ever breeze among the branches moves, Where heavy headed lilies, half-awake Fill with their perfume all the orange groves. The souls of sleeping men awake in dreams. On level pinions drift across those glades, And drink and dip their hands in voiceless streams That glimmer under the unwavering shades. And there the lonely are in company And view with quiet and a dimmed surprise, Between the heartease and the rosemary, The souls of unforgotten dead arise. 17 And in the midst a pillar stands to read " Here are all wrongs forgot, all bonds released," O Spirits sapphire-winged and slumber freed, All tangles are undone, all burdens eased ! All cries made quiet ; here are found again Wrath-sundered friends, for here all wrath is still. Strife and misconstruing are far and vain, And things despaired of compassed here at will. Night in the gulf the wheels of night have stayed And sleep the gate of amethyst unbars. And round our borders are arrayed The everlasting armies of the stars. 18 vox INFIRMITATIS ^VTOT for our soon-forgotten day, ■^ ^ Not that our looks are slow and blind, That Thou hast set the mountain way For lame and stumbling feet to find, In hands too small hast lain the sword — Not for our weakness spare us, Lord. But for our single day of might. When, long remote, the tempests blow, The hidden altar flames to sight, And high the immortal beacons show. When these great hours shall lie forgot, Have mercy, Lord, and spare us not. Have mercy, when the glassy tide Stirs not the stiller haven's sleep ; Our coward prayers be then denied, The harbour with Thy surges sweep. And hale into the clamorous seas The ships that shelter there at ease. Now in mine hour of strength I cry The unfettered soul's discerning prayer; Though pain and fear his company. Thy living burden grant me bear. When weakness shall the words unsay, O Thou that hearest, turn away. 19 O Giver of the burning dream To things of clay that fall in dust, Since for no merit fell the gleam, Neither for strength we hold the trust, Not for unworthiness deny The armour and the battle-cry. 20 ALADDIN a '^TEW lamps for old lamps.'" -^ ^ Who is it crying by the door? While the feet of the women move softly On the smooth of the cedarwood floor. The Indian slaves are bringing amber And the black slaves come with gold, While the white slaves pour for me diamonds Who cries " New lamps for old ? " " New lamps for old lamps" Like flowers on a winter-dry thorn My palaces blossom on the desert Who would go crying in the morn ? For the wizard goes the hard way and lonely While here there is pleasure manifold. But the feet of the young men follow after Who cries " New lamps for old." 21 THE BLACK MADONNA T HAVE no memory of my first name. ■*■ Cybele was T when men built this place, And set me here and ringed me round with flame And incense blew in gusts across my face. Mary they name me now, but still the same Sorrows are poured before me for my grace. Amid the colours waning and dim gold I watch the women from my marble throne Shuffle across the pavement as of old And kneel upon the same knee-dinted stone, Crying : "Thy love abides and grows not cold. Mother, have pity upon us, thine own." Then they recount an age-long litany : My love forgets me; mine is oversea; My son is sick ; no son at all have I ; Age overtakes me. Mother succour me ; Be near me in my travail; — when I die; Our crops are thin, replenish field and tree. And so they pray and patter home again. O griefs unchanging while the long years run ! O many prayers and sorrows told in vain ! My hands lie still and I am still a stone. Does any hear and ease them of their pain ? Or are they succourless till life be done ? 22 TENEBR.E (hi Victoria Street) I HE short day wanes, the sunset fills the sky -■- With distant flare of pyre or festival, The town is amber, bronze, chalcedony. The windows flash upon the upper wall. But as a grave laid open, down below In a grey shadow the grey people move. Suddenly, from a tower amid the glow, The great bell tolls above. And in the mastering sound The trivial clamors of the day are drowned. Remember ye the dead, Whose hidden graves ye tread^ Whose words are dumb, tvhose dust is blown abroad. O, soon to join the thronging, shadowy horde, Unchj-onicled, unseen, unpiti'ed. Pray for the dead ! The sun is quenched, the lighted windows close, And blank as dead men's faces stand the walls. Peal upon peal, with ringing passionate blows, Upon the iron town their hammer falls. It seems to shatter our low skies, and bring The stars beyond the smoke before our sight, 23 The silence that engulfs our qLiestioning, The challenge of the night Our dust-bound souls to rend, Crying: Remember, God, the darkness, and the end. Remember ye the dead, O hearts uncomforted 1 From sin and aspiration and despair, Secular sorrow, momentary care, Turn, turn your souls whither their souls are sped, Pray for the dead ! 24 THE DEAD SAILOR TN the churchyard green why have you laid me, ^ Under the tower where the great bells swing, Where from the unshaken elms that shade me The blacks rooks sail upon level wing. I will go down when the night is falling Through the barley that rustles like foam Till I hear the galloping surges calling The dusty soul of the sailor home. Past the wicket and through the heather, Over the turf that is stiff with brine. Then two old friends will be met together And the breath and gulf of the sea be mine. Then I will dance where the sunlight quivers, Rise and fall with the curl of the wave. Laugh while they race up a thousand rivers And boom and hiss in a thousand caves. And, when the saffron of eve grows paler, I will go whisper on Yarmouth shore Where a woman waits for her son a sailor, And looks for a ship that comes no more. 25 RONDEL OF LONDON ^TT^O-DAY I spake with souls that journeyed by. •'• Here in the street they touched me as they passed. Sorrow and Hope and Terror flying fast, Life soon to bud, or, withering, soon to die. And many more with troubled, speechless eye Into my heart their timeless question cast. To-day I spake with souls that journeyed by Here in the street they touched me as they passed. The spires consumed in sunset, ceaselessly The traffic surged with sob and trumpet blast. Dusty, ensnared, immortal, driven fast They raised their faces to the evening sky. — To-day I spake with souls that journeyed by. 26 A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS /^UT in the empty desert all alone, ^^ Blown by the winds and lapped by waves of grass, There stands beneath the unseeing skies a stone, Where nevermore the foot of man shall pass. Set up to mark the grave of one that died Long years ago, whereon may be descried In signs to all but human eyes unknown : Faithful is God, for He remembereth ; The Lord is mighty, and forgetteth none. Here come the deer, because the grass is sweet ; The wounded bird, because the shadow thrown Shelters its aching body from the heat ; And here a thousand flying seeds are blown, And after growth and blossom, here they die, Even as he whose bones beneath them lie. Of men to read the writing comes not one : Faithful is God, for He remembereth ; The Lord is mighty, and forgetteth none. The busy hands that did this carving make, The eyes that wept, the voices that made moan Long respite from their grief and labors take ; Their tears are dry, their lamentation done. 27 The stars, like jewels on a banner spread, Are borne to other battles overhead ; Still cries the grave, taunting oblivion : Faithful is God, for He remembereth ; The Lord is mighty, and forgetteth none. 28 SONG OF REVOLUTION /^\ YE who from your palaces keep rule in ^^ force and fear, (Hear the people muster in the night!) For words of peace we spake our woes, our words ye would not hear. ( And it 's Swords ! and let God defend the right ! ) We prayed to dwell where we had built, to reap where we had sown. (Hear the people muster in the night !) Our answer was your soldiery, that laughing rode us down. ( And it 's Swords ! and let God defend the right! ) Ye may slay us, the forerunners, with the victory unwon, ( Hear the people muster in the night ! ) Ye cannot slay the nation, and our children follow on. Crying, " Swords ! and let God defend the right ! " Sleep soundly oh ! our children and wake mighty in the morn, 29 ( Hear the people muster in the night ! ) For our hour it is midnight, but yours shall be the dawn, When the sword shall be sheathed from the fight. 30 THE SPHINX TT RE days were days upon the earth ^-^ The Lord Almighty laid His hand. I rose an everlasting hill, And round my feet I felt the sand. I felt upon my sightless brows The child-winds leaning in their play, Felt the first ripple of the Nile Slip through my stones its seaward way. Some came and shaped me brows and breast. They gave me hearing, lips, and eyes. I heard the clanging of their gongs, Smelt savour of their sacrifice. I saw the kings in golden prows Row with the flood to crown or bride, I heard the wailing when they came Back to the tomb, against the tide. There passed a word between the winds. They stirred the plains beyond the West. The sands rose high behind my head. The sands surged up against my breast. The two waves meeting on my brows, I waited, hidden in my place. Till man remembered me again And swept the sand from off my face. 31 Now Nile is far, and knows me not, Tile desert sands remorseless rise, My head is battered by the men That used to make me sacrifice. I lift my smitten brows and wait. Men pass as prints of summer rain. Nile will remember and return To flow before my feet again. 32 UT CARO INFIRMA |/"EEP, O my heart, the lifted road, -*-^ Unsoiled and silent and remote, Where, if the mists about me float They stir with whisperings of God. Yet tread my feet, the dusty way, The common highway filled with men ; Give back, mine eyes, their looks again And touch, my hands, their hands all day. Ah God ! that cloud on cloud should roll Down 'twixt the human eyes and me. That darkness in the day should be. Dust in the pathways of the soul. 33 BEFORE SLEEP T AY by, lay by, the viol and the bow, •*— ' Carry away the wine cup and the feast, Cover the lights and bid the singers go, At last, at least, Set wide the window, let the night winds blow. Behold the moon beyond the garden rim Pearl-browed, amid obscuring clouds ascend. Filling the sky with wings of cherubim To hover and befriend. Great pinions spread above the meadows dim. Yet we that have been merry are afraid. Pity of God ! O patient Heart of Christ ! That see'st how easily we are dismayed. Do Thou keep tryst, And in the ultimate terror give us aid. 34 A RIDING SONG A S I was riding through the woods, a-riding "^ ■*■ in the rain, Within the dripping hawthorn brake a bird began to sing ; But could not call my thoughts from her I once besought in vain. Long, long ago in the spring. As I was riding through the dark, a-riding in the West, I saw the roses by the gate ungathered in the moon. There it was she answered me, with roses in her breast, Long, long ago in the noon. As I was riding by the church, a-riding by the wall, "Surely," I said, "the strife is done, 'twas long ago she died." I could not find her grave to bless among the grasses tall ! — Still, from the dead am I denied ! 35 FEUILLES D'AUTOMNE OILENCE and chill ; the beeches stand aflare ^^ 'Twixt pallid elm and pine no years despoil. The golden bracken rusts, and sere and bare The chilling brambles coil. Upon the burnished footing of a glade, Thin as a smoke a phantom shape arose, Who peered and muttered as a man dismayed " Where are my foes ? " Another flickered by his side, who said, " Brother, be comforted, thy foes are gone, Sailed from us long ago and left their dead. For I was one. Our ways are done, our battles at an end Conquest nor overthrows, delights nor grieves. Let us lie down again as friend with friend Under the leaves." I heard no more. The branches dripped, the sun Sank without flames and closed an autumn day. 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