Class f O Ck /QI- Book - £"7/7^ 5^ 4H- ^w4tw.. ^,^ hi- COPHtlGHT DEPCSm SOMETHING SINGING BY MARGARET PERRY BOSTON SHERMAN, FRENCH 6- COMPANY 1916 ■/: OrO NOV- 17 1318 Copyhight, 1916 Shermak, French df Company 'C1.A4464:>0 TO MY MOTHER CONTENTS Page Something Singing i The VeU 3 Before the Dawn 4 A Pyrrhic \'ictory 6 The Choice 9 The Coward 10 When You were Here 11 At Last 12 A Valentine, Unsent 14 Redemption 15 A Birthday Song 17 Forgiveness 19 Her Ej-es 20 A Prayer 21 Your Colours 22 Mnemosyne 24 In Memoriam 25 A Dream 26 The Audacious Race 2S Mv Prison-wall 29 The Master of the House 30 A Happy Marriage 32 SONNETS AND QUATRAINS In the Train 39 Only a Year Ago 4° The Cost 41 Page A Parting Gift 42 The Harder Task 43 War 44 The Bequest 45 The Trojan Women 46 Mizpah 47 What He Saw 48 To His Old Love 49 Waiting 50 Now Grief is Dead 51 To 52 Hope 53 Peace 54 " Our Doubts are Traitors " 55 Victory and Defeat 56 An Offering 57 Uncertainty 58 Mourn Not 59 At Your Feet 60 Come, Radiant Death 61 TRANSLATIONS Rondel 65 Chant de Mai et de Vertu 66 To Helen 68 Sonnet 69 Sonnet 7° Icarus 71 Epitaph 72 SOMETHING SINGING SOMETHING SINGING "Something singing! Listen! Hark! Is it sparrow, thrush or lark?" All I heard was a bird, Bravely singing. "Something singing!" 'Twas a child. Kin to all things small and wild, Heard him first as he burst Into singing. "Something singing! " Must I too. Never mind what Fate may do, Go ahead, live or dead, Ever singing? "Something singing!" Through the night, Where I lurked in Heaven's despite, Came a tone once well-known. Softly ringing. [i] "Something singing!" Daylight breaks, And my listening heart awakes, Gone is fear now I hear Birds a-singing! [2] THE VEIL My little puss that died last week, Leaving an ever-present pain, Could, as they say, do all but speak, Yet every thought and wish lay plain To those that loved him. Would that we For all our words could say as much! When comes a thought that sets us free. Seeking some well-loved heart to touch. Who has not found between two souls A filmy veil nought can break through? Try as we will, wide as the poles Asunder still am I and you ; And yet how deep our love — O God, Take quite away this gift of speech. Silent I'd be as any clod. Could but our hearts speak each to each! [3] BEFORE THE DAWN Before the dawn, how dark the night! A distant cock-crow brings no cheer, . Reminding me how once through fear A valiant man denied the Light, Before the dawn. The dew lies chill on field and wood, The silent stars, how far away! Though full of dread, I cannot pray, Life irks me, death alone seems good, Before the dawn. The moon is set, no sound is heard, The brooding earth expectant lies, Till through the hush thy rapturous sighs Ascend to Heaven, brave little bird. Before the dawn. [4] O wild wood thrush, that singest best In life's deep shadows, teach me how To lift my voice and praise God now, And trusting in His love, find rest, Before the dawn! [5] A PYRRHIC VICTORY One hour's keen joy he had, when first he saw And recognised in its entirety His sin. Long had he known all was not well, And vaguely sought to grasp and under- stand The cause of his engulfing misery. Until there came a voice from Heaven to tell That this slight shackle to full liberty. This trifling imperfection, merest flaw. Was leading him by dallying paths to Hell. With horror shrinking from a sin so base He felt an angel take him by the hand. As he with new-born courage set his face Against the current that had swept him on. Then in a flash he saw the battle won, And knew, for the first time, content. [6] In the beginning he was kindly spared Knowledge of what it ultimately meant To avert his eyes from those he loved, and fight With loyalty and kindness for his foes. The world saw nothing wrong until he turned From the old ways, and his companions rent Heaven with their outcry, impotently pleading For his return. Why take this lofty pose? They could have borne it if a saint had spurned The careless life which once they all had shared, From him it came as a rebuke, unearned; While they who also battled for the right, Who could have led him upwards to the light, Marked but the broken faith, the armour's dent. And not the man beneath who trembling, bleeding, Stood fast throughout with no thought of receding. [7] The conflict past, he scanned the grim result; Who could in such a victory exult, He pondered, counting all the weary toll? The cost had been too great, that much seemed clear, His life was shattered, hemmed about with fear, The battle's mark had seared his very soul; What though he stood at night-fall on the field, Alone, his foes dispersed, in full control; li over all that he should do or dare There henceforth hung this horror of despair, Whose was the gain, and wherefore should he wield His battered sword? No prize had come, to yield Its measure of encouragement; at best He found himself again Upon the self-same plain Whence the successful started on their quest In radiant youth. He had thought to reach life's goal And found himself at last, the race unrun. Before the starting-post when day was done, [8] THE CHOICE Why do I love you? Well, because When first I met your glance so keen, It flashed upon me what life was, Or might have been. Hating the past, I turned to you. And saw how at your humorous touch. Perplexity and doubt withdrew, And with them, much That long had held my soul in thrall. Flying like dreams the approach of day; But as my spirit's fetters fall, You turn away! Myself to gain and you to lose? That were a cruel bargain, dear; If choice must be, 'tis you I choose. Stay with me here ! [9] THE COWARD No tears let fall for him who from the field Withdrew before the battle was begun, Faint-hearted turned before the race was run, And basely sought a virgin sword to yield. Looking to Heaven to be to him a shield And not a trumpet-call to spurs well-won; Unlike to them who though forspent, undone. Through life's long day their blood-stained weapons wield. [lo] WHEN YOU WERE HERE When you were here, the year was new, You marked the brook and praised its chatter; Since then it only speaks of you, With manner kinder than its matter! When you were here, we strode along. Climbing this mountain road together, While overhead a thrush's song Spoke of love, springtime and fair weather. Now you are gone, the world is changed, The road we trod leads but to you; The silent thrush, from love estranged, No longer sings the song we knew. AT LAST Why should I lay my secret bare, Speak to the world my hidden woe? You'll read my tale, somehow, somewhere, And know. Too long I felt your silent doubt, No other shall suspect, exclaim; To you alone these lines cry out Your name. The truth you sought to disbelieve. The faithful love so long misprised. Shall be throughout the day, till eve Disguised. But when comes night revealing all. Both light of distant stars and scent Of earth, your mask you will let fall — Relent. [12] Our grief-worn hearts in that dim light Shall meet unmindful of the past, And truth shall triumph in the fight, At last. [13] A VALENTINE, UNSENT Stay, flaming rose, 'twould grieve her heart To see you fade away, Unloved, unwelcome and apart From every joy today. Once long ago your tale was new, Days distant yet so dear; Why say her lover still is true. When that is all her fear? Why thus recall another's pain, Her tender heart to fret? Best let her think he loves again. Who never can forget! [14] REDEMPTION O Christ, That savest the world, restoring Our vanished hope, our trust in man, A sinner kneels. Thine aid imploring. Thou must redeem, none other can. Those summer dawns for which he waited. Till he could leave his tear-stained bed, Those days of misery unabated. Through which he crept, once hope was fled. Such horror as his soul has tasted, He cannot tell, not even to Thee, Yet who dare say one pang is wasted If from his bonds it set him free? [15] He sought Thee long and could not find Thee, He sought Thee for himself alone, And in Thy human guise declined Thee, For grief had turned his heart to stone. But now, O Lord, that broken, beaten, Repentant unto Thee he turns. Remember not the husks he has eaten, Remember not the sin he spurns. [i6] A BIRTHDAY SONG Far from the paths of hounds or men, Here where the silence clings, I heard outside my open door Light-footed, furry things. Till with the dawn the stars grew dim They danced for very joy, Scampering shyly round about, Fearless of gun or boy. Low towards the golden East, beneath An iridescent hill, A village lapped in waves of mist Lay unsuspected still. [17] Through a new day made fair by you I spurn the dusty earth, My joyous heart this morning greets The day that saw your birth. But how be sure this is the morn When each one is the same — Since flowers are brighter, stars draw near, If you but speak my name? [i8] FORGIVENESS Let not the past rise up between us, dear, I would not as a suppliant draw near. Nor grant faint absolution for a wrong That memory's ravages would fain prolong; Yet when we meet again, as meet we must, I know that my resentment, your distrust. Shall cease to be. We two who faced to- gether Death and his brother Fear, need not ask whether Your hand or mine shall be the first to grasp The other's in an eager, pardoning clasp. [19] HER EYES Some vow their true love's eyes are blue As gentians in September ; My mistress looked me through and through, Yet can I not remember Whether her eyes are brown or gray, (Pray do not let her hear it!) I think of mountain brooks in May — Her eyes? — I saw her spirit! [20] A PRAYER The past is dead, the present flies, The future far beyond us lies; I can but give thee, O most dear, In memory of that past, a tear, While that thy future may be fair Shall be my never-ceasing prayer. This present grief, to thee unknown. Lord, let it break my heart alone ! [21] YOUR COLOURS Better my fault than yours, I say; At least that love I threw away Was gold, not dross. Mistrust deprived me of life's best, I failed in love's soul-searching test, And now must face with heart oppressed My bitter loss. But you ? I thank the gods alone That I can see you, O my own, Above me still ! What though I fail, if you succeed? Still shall I pray, though my heart bleed. That you may never know my need. Your joy to chill. [22] Forgiveness now I dare not ask, But when I finish life's hard task, Then may you know I did not, through these years of grief Seek in forgetfulness, relief. Nor waver in my firm belief That time would show To Heaven, to all the world and you, Who are my world, that I was true To love at last. How through these dark and lonely years, Down which, perplexed, I groped with tears, I kept your colours, midst all fears, Nailed to the mast! [23] MNEMOSYNE If to remember be to think of thee By day and night, in sunshine and gray weather, Then from this tyranny I would be free, Forget the past, or live it through together. I need no teaching from Mnemosyne How quick hearts are to break, how hard to tether! [24] IN MEMORIAM Some creep into a tardy grave, unsung, Your vigour cannot now grow chill with years. You are for ever eager, active, young; The great adventure past, no earthly fears Can touch that buoyant spirit which among The stars now lives, untrammelled, with its peers. [25] A DREAM Dreaming of you, long j-ears of grief, Like a leaf, Fell away. A leaf, I said? Ah, many a one. Till there shone Through the gray. What but sky overhead ! And I said: " Now at last Lies the truth within my reach. Harsh jour speech In the past; [26] Did you mean each cruel word? " Like a bird Past my cheek, Fluttered yours. "Dear heart, no! But I'll go If you speak Or think of that ! " Though troubled, shy, Fearlessly Our eyes met. There was healing in your glance. Quick, my chance "I forget [27] THE AUDACIOUS RACE With you beside me, easy were the task, Your strengthening hand in mine, light were my grief; Now you have failed me, 'tis of God I ask For help. How often He Who should be chief In all our thoughts must take the second place ! We scorn love infinite and then we wonder That finite love scorns us. Audacious race, That braves the lightning-bolt yet dreads the thunder ! [28] MY PRISON-WALL Now Spring is here, the fields are green, And each day earlier comes the morn; The little birds chirp, sing and preen, I only am forlorn. The earth with warm and misty rain Her youth and innocence renews, The sower scatters, but in vain My soul for pardon sues. I sought to turn love into hate And let mistrust hold me in thrall, And now I see, alas, too late, I built my prison-wall! [29] THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE The Master opened wide the gate That all should enter; desperate And poor, they thronged, maimed, halt and blind. Not one, reluctant, lagged behind, Disconsolate. Hard hit by life and wounded sore They hastened through the welcoming door, Within was rest and heavenly peace, God's promise that their pain should cease For evermore. Behold them clustering round the board: Joy lightens all the motley horde. The Master of the House brings wine. Breaks bread with hands nail-scarred, divine; They know their Lord. [30] Without, there stand with vision sealed The unscathed few, unhurt, unhealed; These trusted in their strength alone, Had wife and oxen for their own, Or new-bought field. Too late for them their joy so bright Proves but the glamour of their night, They had their chance, they made their choice. They heeded not the Master's voice. Nor sought the Light. [31] A HAPPY MARRIAGE She smiled in after years to think she had sent him A blue-bound Landor which to her spelt Greece, And classic clearness and intensity, Proud English passion and that Roman peace Won by the clash of arms; all this she meant him To share with her. She saw in him the young Endymion, And Harry Hotspur mounted on his horse. All pent-up youth struggling for liberty, All strength and beauty lavished on an age Grown tedious, thanks to those dull tasks which he [32] Would willingly forego. Some one, of course, Must plod, but merciless oblivion Envelops plodders in a fog so chill As to warn off the wise. Upon life's stage He sought the centre with unerring skill; He spoke so little, his opinion counted, Though most with those who in a noble rage Scorn the poor high-brow on his high steed mounted. While she, a creature quivering like a flame With life and aspiration, represented To him — not sympathy — why think of others ? Nor poetry — to him the merest name — Nor that divinest love which all true mothers Offer as homage to the young, nor blame The helpless for what is their parents' shame. [33] Now, though to matrimony he had consented, Because at thirty youth flies all too fast. Life did not mean to him that sacred torch, Which stumbling, spent, the dying runner handed To other youths, for but one purpose banded, To guard that flickering light and get it past All obstacles, safe to the goal at last. There is no test like time; his marriage taught him How years could pass, smooth, not devoid of zest. Though he was kept outside, as it were, not wanted. Basking his days out on life's sunny porch. No problem rose at which she quailed and sought him, She grappled with each one alone, un- daunted, While he, spared all misgiving like a child. Lived on complacently and little guessed [34] That on their honeymoon, when doubts as- sailed her She rightly took the blame. He had not failed her; When had he claimed to be a haven of rest, A tower of strength amidst the ravening tribes Of doubt and disillusion and despair? So, sheltered from the fierce and scorching air Of truth, a case for sympathy, not gibes, He throve on that which she, repentant, brought him, In payment of an unsuspected debt. Which he could never guess nor she forget; And when she died, worn out, before her hair Was gray, he thought death for the first time veiled her From his accustomed eyes. She was the best Of women, that he knew, and on her piled Great marble blocks to tell whom she had blessed — Perhaps she, motherly, saw it all, and smiled! [35] SONNETS AND QUATR.AINS IN THE TRAIN Back to the hills at last, eternal, bare, Far from the city's hurrying wharves that reek Of tar and oil and salt sea-foam, to seek Amidst the upland slopes a purer air; Past factory towns and placid streams I fare, Past meadows filled with cattle slow and sleek. To well-cropped pastures girt with ledges bleak And gray, with children picking berries there. You townsman in your counting-house im- mured Think liberty is bought, and gather gold, Hoping to find on your untroubled path The gift that comes but as war's aftermath; Yet God spake through adversity of old. And freedom gave to those who much en- dured. [39] ONLY A YEAR AGO Only a year ago! How strange it seems To look back to the day I saw 30U first; I shall not soon forget those stairs, the worst I know ! I knocked and waited. — In my dreams The memory of that first glimpse of you re- deems This year of every bitterness, you stand With smiling eyes and eager, outstretched hand. But when I wake, my heart with anguish teems, Remembering how these weary months and slow We've met like strangers and your very smile Has raised a barrier hard to overthrow. Yet God must hear my prayer ; at last that door Shall open wide for me, your friend once more — But ah, the long gray years loom dark mean- while! [40] THE COST The thought of help you might have given, For lack of which one soul was lost, Could make the veriest Hell of Heaven. You kept your skirts clean — at what cost! [41] A PARTING GIFT Though all is over, surely when you read This book of verse I give you as I go, My hid intent you'll guess and say: "I know How this wild passage answered to his need And taught him that the fighter's highest meed Is just the clash of battle; here his woe Speaks through another's words; in this fierce glow Of passion, his own heart doth faint and bleed." Here in this treasure-house of time, but wait For me a breathing-space, that I may turn And meet you there in spirit, since harsh Fate, Envying our joy, has placed a barrier stern Between our paths, and I must henceforth learn To live remote from one I met too late. [42] THE HARDER TASK When, years ago, our friendship still was new, I prayed that I might die for you, my friend; Through one supreme endeavour would I send My heart's devotion forth, proving to you And all the world beside, how strong and true The friendship needs must be which at the end Death the inexorable could not bend. And thus love with eternal life endue. My prayer's intent God answered, cast away My vaunting words, for 'tis not death but life, Bereft of you, in endless, lonely strife Which must to you alone my love display. My life for yours I sought but to resign; Yet God is good, a harder task is mine. [43] WAR I dreamt men were indifferent and blind To human suffering, and woke to laugh At this mad fancy. Men, I know, are kind, I whispered, half awake — then thought of war! [44] THE BEQUEST Dying to-night, what could I leave to you Who taught me all that makes life rich and fair, God's immanence felt in the evening air. His mercy in the pang with which we rue The footstep which has crushed the worm? Ah, true As steel were you when blighting doubt else- where O'erwhelmed me; but for you, clouds of de- spair And self-distrust yet hid from me Heaven's blue! Love, courage, constancy and faith are yours, I'd leave to you a world that cries for aid, A suffering multitude whose anguish pours Unheeded down their furrowed cheeks. Dis- mayed By nothing human, your soul heavenward soars In lowly service, loving all God made. ^[45] THE TROJAN WOMEN HARVARD STADIUM, MAY 19TH, 1915 As once in Troy, the sun sinks towards the West, And far off, underneath the self-same sky, Three half-clad runners on the green flit by — So little change the years have wrought! The test Of war proves all our progress vain, con- fessed A failure. Overseas tonight there lie Hosts slain since dawn, while thousands long to die. Women like these, by ruthless War op- pressed. What's Hecuba to us? Ah, here's the gain! While Belgium, Poland, Serbia blot the world Which once has felt the shadow of the Cross, Their deep bereavement is the whole earth's loss; We scorn complacent ease, Christ's flag un- furled, Gethsemane inscribed there, not in vain ! [46] MIZPAH O God, in mercy watch between Two friends whom life alone could sunder; When healing Death wipes out old scores, Forgive my crime, forget his blunder. [47] WHAT HE SAW The world says you are beautiful, how strange To learn this first from others, hear men tell How radiant is the face I know so well. How exquisite that mouth whose strong curves change Through humour to compassion, the whole range Of life. They say those eyes whose depth serene. Unfathomable draws me, when first seen Claim homage in one glance's interchange. Such loveliness escaped me, still T knew That where you were, pain fled and courage grew. I felt, with you to beckon, life should cease To spell despair; while there's a fight to win. Even such as I, struggling afresh with sin, Through this eternal warfare might find peace. [48] TO HIS OLD LOVE "Well met!" As hand grasped hand with words of cheer My new-love's eyes sought mine, a glance that must, From eyes like childhood's own, pierce through the dust Down to the soul beneath. How crystal-clear Her look, sure of herself and me! A year Of misery and doubt and self-distrust Was wiped out for an instant, then I thrust The Lethe-cup aside, remembering, dear, A far off hillside where the sweetbriar grows, At thought of whose brave pungency, the rose I'd sing is clean forgot; my steps are bent Once more to stony paths that upward lead: What though your image ever must recede, If you but show the way, I am content. [49] WAITING Still waiting for the word that might have saved, Punished too harshly for I knew not what, Perplexed, bewildered, through the years I craved My friend's forgiveness. She, instead, for- got. [50] NOW GRIEF IS DEAD Now grief is dead I am indeed forlorn. Hope vanished first with all that I held dear; Then courage, though her voice so clarion- clear Once summoned hosts to battle, as the morn Awoke the thrush to greet a day new-born ; Yet grief trod ever at my side, austere, Silent as the first snowfall of the year; Her face still kept your image, passion-torn. Before my eyes in deathless memory. But now indifferent, my heart a stone, I grope my way in unsought liberty. Through haunts once hallowed by your light, shy tread. Untouched by joy or sorrow, numbed, alone, For I am living, only grief is dead. [51] TO (physician, sculptor) We grow, alas, no younger day by day, And you, whose life is spent in ceaseless toil For others, pouring out the wine and oil With hands so capable and loving, may Before the allotted time be worn and gray; Life's duties multitudinous may foil Once more the artist's heart; beneath the soil, At last, your talent shall be hid away. The inchoate clay and marble shall conceal Beauty still undisclosed, while to your mind. The loveliness you can alone reveal, Throughout the ages shall remain confined; But well know we, whose suffering you heal, To sacrifice like yours God is not blind. [52] HOPE Wild Hope, return, though in nny breast The eternal struggle surge anew; Let others pray for peace and rest, I choose the field, the sword, and you! [53] PEACE When evening falls the wind-tossed boughs are still, And in the quiet pool's mysterious face Lie mirrored breathless; there is now no trace Of the wild blast that whistled keen and shrill, Wreaking since dawn its harsh, relentless will, While red and gold-touched leaves in mad- dest race Swept earthwards fast, leaving bare twigs like lace Outlined against blue sky and purple hill. Thus when life ends, may I find rest at last. And may the doubts and fears that shake my soul Be silenced utterly; while to this heart That beat for one alone, freed from a past So full of anguish, by Death's touch made whole, May God His greatest gift of peace impart. ' [54] "OUR DOUBTS ARE TRAITORS" I asked for trust and gave you as its price Reluctant faith, dishonouring us both; Friendship's deep silence praised, yet nothing loath. Tore words to tatters; nought else would suf- fice But substance for the shade to sacrifice. You watched, uncomprehending, did not blame, While I with souls for counters played Hell's game, And lost it, for the Foe cast loaded dice. Now through the needless ruin of a life, I see you standing patient as before. Only a bit more lonely, as the knife With which I threatened rattles to the floor. Your trust I killed with long and futile strife, And now must walk alone for evermore. [55] VICTORY AND DEFEAT To them that conquer in the fight, Even wounds are welcome, pain is light; But to the vanquished, Death's hand rests. Dreaded, yet longed for, on their breasts. [56] AN OFFERING What can I give to Thee ? The future lies Shrouded in mystery; no man would care To offer such a shadowy gift, though fair It still may seem to his expectant eyes. The fleeting present far too swiftly flies To furnish aught of value. Should I dare Call up the past, lay all its secrets bare Upon Thine altar? Never! my heart cries. Yet through the labyrinth Who traced the road? Who through the mire held out a Hand to save? Homeward I struggled, knowing at the end A Door stood open and, within, a Friend. The past still had its use which by sin's goad Impelled me towards the peace which all men crave. [57] UNCERTAINTY Dear, if in mercy you'd but speak your heart, Whether you loved or hated me, just so I knew the best or worst Time had to show, Even though I saw all hope of bliss depart, I think that I could bear it, hide the smart, Brace shoulders quick beneath the sudden blow, And easier face a shipwrecked life of woe Than this uncertain sea without a chart. And yet to see the years before me spread With courage gone and gray despair instead Dogging my weary footsteps as I passed Dumb, shadow-like through life half-lived and vain — Could I endure this? Ah, let hope again Her saving glamour on the future cast! [58] MOURN NOT Mourn not for happiness once tasted, Though when it flies grief stays behind At least life was not wholly wasted, If once to you the gods were kind. [59] AT YOUR FEET You say your spirit dreads the mountain peaks Where love enshrines you, and that I shall find Too late, alas, my passion made me blind; My soul, misguided, seeking yours, but seeks A phantom of the brain, you say, that speaks From your sweet lips; that could I see behind New love's deep glamour, search your heart and mind. Fled were the spell of these mad, rapturous weeks. You fear I know you not? Though you be right, Yet pity, honour, truth and love I know. And worship at the shrine where best they meet; 'Tis not you only, but the heavenly light Your spirit radiates in a steady glow, Which makes me lay my heart down at your feet. [60] COME, RADIANT DEATH Come, radiant Death, with healing in thy train To where, by treacherous foes beset, I fight. And see the battle lost, though for the right I strove throughout life's lonely press. Again And yet again, undaunted, heart and brain Repelled all day the tireless host, but night Descends at last, even hope is fled, no light Shines on my path, the struggle was in vain. Tarry no longer, Death, men need thee now. Thy healing touch on passion's throbbing brow. Thy seal on wavering promises. Despair Need none, for mercy rules the world, and all, Though beaten in life's battle, hear thy call At last, and know surcease from grief and care. [6i] TRANSLATIONS RONDEL Old Winter has put off his cloak Of bitter winds and piercing rain, And Spring, to make her broidered train, Must the bright sunbeams' aid invoke; While all the furred and feathered folk Lift up their voice in glad refrain: Old Winter has put off his cloak Of bitter winds and piercing rain. Brook, spring and rill their bounds have broke And livery new may now attain; New raiment all things have bespoke. Old Winter has put off his cloak Of bitter winds and piercing rain. Charles d'Orleans. [65] CHANT DE MAI ET DE VERTU Eagerly in the month of May The earth her being doth renew; Lovers this impulse oft obey, To love itself are they untrue; Unstable hearts and minds have they, And elsewhere seek for greater cheer: I in my love take not this view. My love endures from year to year. No maid so fair but shall grow gray, Time soon will dull her beauty's hue, To care and sickness once a prey, 111 looks to all soon find the clue; But she to whom I'm ever true Can calmly let old age draw near, Her beauty seeming ever new, My love endures from year to year. For she of whom all this I say, Is that immortal nymph, Virtue, To honour's heights she showed the way. While her adorers round her drew. " Come, lovers, come, I wait for you, Come up to me, none interfere; Come," cried the maid, seeking her due, " My love endures from year to year." Envoi This mistress. Prince, if you pursue, And learn to make your love sincere, Soon shall you say, and never rue. My love endures from year to year. Clement Marot. [67] TO HELEN When old age comes, at eve by candle-light, Spinning and weaving, seated near the blaze, You'll sing my verses in a glad amaze: Thus Ronsard praised me ere my beauty's flight. The hand-maid, doubting if she hears aright, Through her half-slumber, fruit of weary days. Catching my name, shall wake to hear the lays That bless your name with deathless memo- ries bright. Beneath the sod, safe from life's winds and snows. By myrtled paths my soul shall find repose; While next the hearth, you, bent with age and sorrovjT, Shall mourn my love and your too proud dis- dain. Live now, believe me, such regret is vain. Life's roses pluck today, nor wait the mor- row. Pierre de Ronsard. [68] SONNET If our life here is but a single day In heavenly eyes, if the revolving year Disperses hours which ne'er can reappear, If all we see is born to fade away. Why shouldst thou wish, my captive soul, to stay. Choosing the darkness of our daylight drear? Why dost thou not with heart triumphant steer To brighter dwelling-place thy winged way? There is that virtue which all hearts desire. There is the rest to which we all aspire, There too is love, and joy not known before; There thou, my soul, to highest Heaven led,^ The earth relinquishing, shalt see instead The ideal beauty which we here adore. Joachim du Bellay. [69] SONNET 'Tis good, Ulysses-like, to wander far, Or else to seek and find the golden fleece, Then homeward fare in Wisdom's full in- crease, To dwell amidst- one's own, remote from war. When shall I see, beneath the evening star, My hamlet's smoke-crowned roof, when shall I cease My quest and by my chimney-nook find peace. Secure in my own land from battle's jar? Dearer the hut my forbears built of old Than Roman palace filled with captive gold; Dearer than lustrous marble my dull slate, Dearer my Gallic Loire than Tiber's might, Dearei small Lyre than Rome's lofty site. Higher than briny winds home's air I esti- mate. Joachim du Bell ay. [703 ICARUS 'Twas here fell Icarus! Nought could appal The youth who towards Heaven's ramparts winged his flight; Here fell he vanquished, stript of feathers quite, Yet noble hearts must envy such a fall. O fortunate endeavour! Glory's call Thus answered brings such meed for pain so slight! O fortunate mishap ! Oblivion's night Before such valour stays her leaden pall! At this unwonted path his youth ne'er quailed ; Intrepid still, though powerless, he failed. The sun's all-glorious rays wrought his de- feat; He died, nor sought an easy victory, High Heaven his goal, his shroud the silver sea, Know ye a loftier aim, a kinglier winding- sheet ? Philippe Desportes. [71] EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH RANQUET Shed not a single tear upon this stone, O passer-by, this is a bed of price; Here lies of purest form the ash alone, Blest by her heart's undying sacrifice. With Nature's debt unpaid, this life outgrown. Her soul reached heights still hidden to the eyes; With the Creator was the creature one, Though still on earth, Heaven only could suffice. The poor, not she herself, enjoyed her treas- ure. Humility and care were all her pleasure, Her dying sigh was one of love. Ah, stay, Fired by her faith, nor sorrow overmuch, And far from thinking she has left our day. Believe that souls like hers feel not Death's touch. Pierre de Corneille. [72] iiiiliiliiliiil,..,.,., 018 349 472 7 3S 1