diss "P S .^ 5 2 9 
 
 PUhSHXTHU i5Y | '^ I *T 
 
CELTIC MEMORIES 
 
CELTIC MEMORIES 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 JOHN LANE COMPANY 
 1914 
 

 TO 
 CATIILEEN NI HOULIHAN 
 
 4AN i0^9^* 
 
Oh ^ for the charm of her , 
 Subtle and strange ! 
 Tang of the ocean^ 
 Scent of the field; 
 Blush of the rosebud^ 
 Grace of the tree ; 
 Dusk on the moorland^ 
 Gentle and grey ; 
 Call of the curlew^ 
 Aloft and alone — 
 Oil, for the charm of her ^ 
 Calling 7Jie home / 
 
' CONTENTS 
 
 CELTIC MEMORIES iace 
 
 The Exile 9 
 
 The Rising of the Moon . . . . . ii 
 
 Saint Patrick 15 
 
 King Muiredach ...... 16 
 
 From the Monastery Door. . . . . 18 
 
 From Kerry 19 
 
 Dedication . . . . . . . . • 21 
 
 At Hollybrooke 22 
 
 The Emigrant 23 
 
 Who? 25 
 
 The Wanderer 26 
 
 SONNETS TO EVA 
 
 For a Book 28 
 
 The Dream City 29 
 
 To Eva in -Paradise 30 
 
 Pearl 31 
 
 Kari^ol 32 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 The Land of Fancy . 
 William Wordsworth 
 My Garden 
 At Twilight 
 A la plus belle 
 The Lonely Road 
 Come Back . 
 On Hearing of a Friend's Engagement 
 My Gift 
 Easter 
 A Valentine 
 At Night . 
 My Prayer. 
 Heart's Garden 
 The Vision . 
 Revelation. 
 The Concert 
 konigskinder 
 On a Line by Henry King 
 Morning Moonrise 
 A Petition to God the Father 
 Love the Guid 
 To One Who Complained of th 
 
 her Face. 
 With a copy of "The Price of 
 Out of the West 
 The Record 
 
 Lis 
 
 E Wi 
 Doris 
 
 in 
 
The Exile 
 
 Tiagam tar muir medraig moill 
 (Let us go over the murmuring, placid sea) 
 
 The Chase of Sid na mBan Finn 
 
 Let us go over the murmuring sea, 
 
 Away from the jarring world, 
 Back to the peace of the Irish hills, 
 
 In the mists of morning curled. 
 
 Let us hark to the song of the fairy folk 
 
 In a moonlit glen at eve, 
 And the half-heard patter of fairy feet 
 
 While their intricate dance they weave. 
 
 Hark to the baying of sweet-mouthed hounds, 
 
 As the Fian host sweeps by, 
 Chasing the boar with bristling back, 
 
 For Failbe's death to die. 
 
 Before me stretches the dancing sea, 
 
 Far out to the Irish shore. 
 And my heart would follow a gull I watched 
 
 Till I could see no more. 
 9 
 
THE EXILE 
 
 My heart would fly to a house that stands 
 By the bay of Cushendun, 
 
 And would wait on the ledge of a window there- 
 May the casement open soon ! 
 
 My lady would take my heart in her hands, 
 
 As a young bird weak of wing, 
 And bending low her lovely head. 
 
 Whisper its comforting. 
 
 My heart would sing its song of joy, 
 
 Filling the world with tune ; 
 And my lady would smile, and say perhaps : 
 
 " Pray God he cometh soon ! " 
 
 lO 
 
The Rising of the Moon 
 
 Come climb the top of Carintoul, 
 
 On Samain Eve with me ; 
 When Caragh Lake hes dark and still, 
 
 And stars shine frostily. 
 
 The leafless trees like Druids stand, 
 Wrapped in the robes of night ; 
 
 Guarding the lore of ancient days 
 From our dull human sight. 
 
 A bank of clouds hangs in the sky, 
 Where the new moon should be ; 
 
 And from the west the night breeze brings 
 The salt smell of the sea. 
 
 Northward I look, toward the land 
 
 Of mighty Conchobar ; 
 Where Emain reared its stately walls, 
 
 Home of the great in war. 
 II 
 
THE RISING OF THE MOON 
 
 E'en as I look a beam of light 
 Crosses the darken'd sky, 
 
 And like a blazing beacon burns 
 Brightly and steadily. 
 
 In this clear glow I see again, 
 'Round Emain's spacious hall. 
 
 The ancient Red Branch chivalry 
 The warrior and the thrall. 
 
 The great king sits upon his throne, 
 
 Cuchulain at his knee ; 
 And 'mid a silence grave, profound. 
 
 The minstrel sings his glee. 
 
 He sings a song of plaintive note, 
 
 Of a lost land far away, 
 Wherein a hundred weary years 
 
 Seem but a happy day. 
 
 The meadows there are ever green, 
 And the angry wind-toss'd sea. 
 
 That lies beyond the headlands far, 
 Another flow'ring lea. 
 
 12 
 
THE RISING OF THE MOON 
 
 There mortal knights are sometimes led 
 
 By damsels passing fair ; 
 And through a fairy's love gain strength 
 
 Their mortal ills to bear. 
 
 Now yet again the minstrel sings 
 
 The valiant deeds of war ; 
 And faint I hear the clash of arms, 
 
 And a mighty muffl'd roar 
 
 Arising from five hundred throats, 
 
 As the picture fades away ; 
 And the murky sky returns again, 
 
 As dark succeeds the day. 
 
 O Erin ! could this latter time 
 
 Call forth a warrior band. 
 Valiant of heart as those I saw, 
 
 And, like them, strong of hand. 
 
 Where are the scholars, where the saints 
 Whom monarchs sought of old ? 
 
 And is that mighty flame of love 
 That burn'd for thee, grown cold ? 
 J3 
 
THE RISING OF THE MOON 
 
 Where now the minstrel, where the bard, 
 
 Thy falt'ring sons to lead 
 Back to the happy other world, 
 
 To gain the strength they need ? 
 
 Such now my thought, as sad 1 turn 
 
 To make my slow descent ; 
 But as I turn, I see the sky, 
 
 And the bank of clouds is rent. 
 
 At the sight I see my heart is glad, 
 
 And sings a merry tune : 
 From out the clouds ; across the lake^ 
 
 The rising of the moon. 
 
 14 
 
Saint Patrick 
 
 In Erin lives an ancient legend still, 
 Of holy Patrick on the hill of Slane, 
 On Easter Even, when he came again 
 
 For service due to work his Master's will ; 
 
 And lit the Paschal fire, so soon to fill 
 All Erin with its light, and tell the pain 
 Of our Lord's death ; by which we too may gain 
 
 His triumph over our last earthly ill. 
 
 How burns the beacon which that Easter Eve 
 Saint Patrick kindled ? Is his faith supreme, 
 
 And the great Church he laboured long to leave 
 In the dear isle of which I fondly dream ? 
 
 I saw to-day a legate sent from Rome — 
 
 Does that dead city rule Saint Patrick's home ? 
 
 15 
 
King Muiredach 
 
 Oroit do Muiredach 
 (A prayer for Muiredach) 
 
 Inscription 07i the Cross oj Muiredach, 
 Monasterhoice 
 
 Pray for King Muiredach, chieftain and priest ; 
 King on the battlefield, king at the feast. 
 
 Great were the deeds of him, gracious to all \ 
 Many the knives he greas'd, seated in hall. 
 
 Deep were the pools of ale ; loud was the praise 
 Shouted by stalwart men, sung in brave lays. 
 
 Doughty the deeds of him, first in the fray. 
 Flashing the Blood Drinker, sullen and grey. 
 
 Rock of the battlefield, dash'd he aside 
 Waves of the foemen that clung to his side. 
 
 Swift flew his chariot, racing the wind : 
 Woe to the laggards 'twas leaving behind ! 
 i6 
 
KING MUIREDACH 
 
 Three waves of Erin cried his distress 
 On the red evening he fell in the press. 
 
 Keen the King, priests of fair Monasterboice ! 
 Dead lies the sov'reign of green Erin's choice. 
 
 Dim grow, the altar lights. Lo ! it is day. 
 Pray for the soul of him ; priests of God, pray ! 
 
 17 
 
From the Monastery Door 
 
 Give me a house where I may see the hills, 
 And past the hills a strip of dark blue sea ; 
 And then a happy bird who sings to me 
 
 Of earth forgotten with its mortal ills. 
 
 This is God's book ; where His blest spirit fills 
 Rocks, rivers, mountains, and the spreading tree 
 Beneath whose boughs I sit and watch the bee, 
 
 Through the still garden darting as he wills. 
 
 This is the page here given us to read ; 
 
 That we may know the worthless world we made. 
 Through the calm loveliness that God has laid 
 
 On the dumb things that we so little heed. 
 
 So will I trust my Father, loving, wise, 
 
 Who for this world will give me Paradise. 
 
 i8 
 
From Kerry 
 
 I HEARD the lilt of my young love's song, 
 
 As he went down the lane ; 
 And I wonder'd as I heard him go, 
 
 " Will he come back again ? " 
 
 'Tis he will dance with ladies gay, 
 
 The finest man of all ; 
 And he'll forget the roadside dance, 
 
 And Kerry in the fall. 
 
 I heard the call of a lone wild goose. 
 
 In her flight toward the sea. 
 " Ah, take my love a thought of home, 
 
 And bring him back to me ! " 
 
 The mist rolls in from the silent hills, 
 And the smell of peat is strong ; 
 
 The kine are gather'd for the night— 
 The twilight hour is long ! 
 
 The lights are lit ; the stars are out ; 
 
 The evening air is cool ; 
 And far away, a dull, dark mass. 
 
 The peak of Carintoul. 
 
 19 c 2 
 
FROM KERRY 
 
 " And yet, perchance, he'll not forget," 
 
 Is what yon star would say. 
 He will unlatch the garden gate — 
 
 The years are yesterday. 
 
 'Tis then the mourning gulls shall scream. 
 
 And wheel, a flash of white, 
 Up, up, towards the new-found sun. 
 
 That bathes them in his light. 
 
 The hills will look a strip of green, 
 
 The bay a streak of blue ; 
 For when my love comes home again. 
 
 It will be springtime too. 
 
 But now the night is come at last. 
 
 The world is dark and cold. 
 Ah, would my love were by my side, 
 
 When all the world grows old ! 
 
 20 
 
Dedication 
 
 Ev'n as lord Tristram went across the sea, 
 Seeking the learning of the Irish land 
 To heal the grievous wound that Morolt's hand 
 
 Had giv'n, through the dread queen's sorcery ; 
 
 Ev'n as Iseult, the wondrous bride-to-be, 
 Rapt him away to Love's bright Fairyland ; 
 Raised him to meet God's love, and understand 
 
 Man's swift obedience to Love's mastery : 
 
 Came I to Erin, pledg'd Love's faithful knight ; 
 
 Not wounded yet but with the pain of bliss, 
 Engender'd by the thought of her whose sight 
 
 Inspires my pen to tell her name in this. 
 Lady ! grant me but leave to sing the praise 
 Love asks of all on whom your eyes may gaze. 
 
 21 
 
At Hollybrooke 
 
 Where in the wonder of the Wicklow hills 
 
 Dwells there a maiden dressed in garments green, 
 Whose fairy loveliness no man has seen, 
 
 Save when the moon the silent valley fills ? 
 
 Joining their music to the bird who trills 
 For fairy dancing, the dim branches lean 
 Like minstrels paying homage to a queen, 
 
 Eager to serve her in whate'er she wills. 
 
 < 
 
 Thus have I come to pay my service due 
 To her whose image lives within my heart. 
 Fairer, through Fancy, than its counterpart 
 
 In mortal guise. Such was my thought till you, 
 
 Dear Cousin, on my waiting vision came : 
 
 A fairy figure with a mortal's name. 
 
 22 
 
The Emigrant 
 
 I CAN see you now, Mavourneen, 
 Just beside your cabin door ; 
 
 And you wave your hand, Mavourneen, 
 As you've often done before. 
 
 See the weary sun, Mavourneen, 
 How he's sinking in the west ; 
 
 And the evening sky behind you, 
 In a thousand colours drest. 
 
 I am coming home, Mavourneen, 
 For the long day's work is done ; 
 
 And the birds are flying homeward. 
 Calling softly, one by one. 
 
 You will lay your hands, Mavourneen, 
 
 - On my shoulders, and will say : 
 " Let me lift the burden, dear one ; 
 'Tis the night gives rest to day." 
 23 
 
THE EMIGRANT 
 
 And your long black hair, Mavourneen, 
 Will fall gently 'round my face ; 
 
 And I'll think that death has found me 
 In the bliss of your embrace. 
 
 'Tis the call of home, Mavourneen, 
 
 'Mid the clang of city cars, 
 And the gaunt, grey office buildings 
 
 That have long shut out the stars. 
 
 I can see you now, Mavourneen, 
 Just beside your cabin door. 
 
 'Tis the good God knows, Mavourneen, 
 If I'll ever see you more. 
 
 24 
 
Who? 
 
 The Lady who loves me, 
 Where does she Hve ? 
 Over the ocean, 
 Over the hill ; 
 Queen of a palace, 
 Light of a mill. 
 The Lady who loves me. 
 What joy does she give ! 
 
 The Lady who loves me. 
 What is her grace ? 
 Whiteness of moonbeams 
 Where fairies are found ; 
 Branch of the rowan 
 When blossoms abound. 
 The Lady who loves me. 
 The sky is her face. 
 
 The Lady who loves me, 
 What is her name ? 
 The wind in the tree-tops. 
 The shine of the sea. 
 Betoken a beauty 
 Less lovely than she. 
 The Lady who loves me— 
 I've mention'd her name. 
 25 
 
The Wanderer 
 
 I HAVE heard the bugles blowing 
 The " Retreat " across the plain, 
 
 And the snow-clad mountains echo 
 The sad signal twice again. 
 
 I have seen the red sun sinking 
 To an Indian river's breast ; 
 
 While I heard the lap of water, 
 And I watched the boats at rest. 
 
 I have heard the breeze at evening 
 Stir the palms above my head, 
 
 While a caravan wound slowly 
 Past a sky of flaming red. 
 
 I have seen the young girls walking 
 Down an English village lane^ 
 
 With their lover's arm around them, 
 While the world grew young again. 
 26 
 
THE WANDERER 
 
 I have heard the darkies singing, 
 As the sun dropped out of sight, 
 
 While through the cabin windows 
 Came a cheerful yellow light. 
 
 But the Irish hills at evening 
 . Are the fairest sight I've seen ; 
 And a li-ttle white-walled cottage 
 Where there waits a glad colleen. 
 
 27 
 
For a Book 
 
 A MONK once laboured in a lonely cell, 
 
 Gilding the pages of a missal rare, 
 
 And those who passed looked in to see him there, 
 His hps soft smiling, and a light that fell 
 Glorious about his head ; and one would tell : 
 
 " Here sits he all the day and will not spare 
 
 Himself for weariness, but his look will bear 
 Such peace as in God's face alone may dwell." 
 
 Lady, I give thee this and ask thee here 
 To read these pages in the light that made 
 
 The monk smile always, and his task, each year 
 Grow lighter and his soul more unafraid ; 
 Love had its wonder on his spirit laid ; 
 
 And in that vision's brightness all was dear. 
 
 28 
 
The Dream City 
 
 I GAZED at you and saw your eyes were sad, 
 
 And in that sadness I, too, had a share ; 
 But your hand crept near mme, and then how glad 
 
 Was I, in turn, that you had placed it there : 
 For we together wandered through the world. 
 
 Amid its darkness we alone could see 
 The path which, 'round a rocky hillside curled, 
 
 Led to the city where our dreams would be. 
 Sombre those walls, like shadows of the night, 
 
 And 'round the turrets ever-changing haze i 
 Within the streets the sad of heart are bright ; 
 
 Love is the stipend paid for happy days. 
 Still stands the city, and the sunset glow 
 Shall lead us thither by the path we know. 
 
 29 
 
To Eva in Paradise 
 
 I GAVE you all my heart so long ago 
 
 I have forgotten when the gift was made, 
 Receiving part of yours, that I might know 
 
 How great a portion in my hands was laid. 
 Each morn I leave the ready task of life. 
 
 And seek the corner where your heart, enshrined, 
 Lends peace which, with a thousand colours rife, 
 
 Fills every chamber of my eager mind. 
 Lady, I look to you as men of old 
 
 Looked to their Virgin, and like them I pray : 
 " Lead me but upward ; give me grace to hold 
 
 Fast to the spirit and escape the clay," 
 Your heart, perchance, some day all mine will be. 
 
 ^Vhy should I ask ? Enough is granted me. 
 
 30 
 
Pearl 
 
 (For the old English poem of that name) 
 
 Were I a diver of the Orient, 
 
 I'd win you pearls such as no queen has worn ; 
 Deeming to match your worth no ornament 
 
 Save these, in the pure depths of ocean born : 
 Were I a merchant, whose unnumbered fleet 
 
 Brought rarest spices, silks and rich perfumes, 
 I'd lay these treasures, also, at your feet. 
 
 To greet that gendeness which Love assumes. 
 I have a gift more precious far than these. 
 
 That none can steal, from which I will not part- 
 Read then this Vision, and therein find ease, 
 
 From contemplation of the human heart. 
 This is my Pearl ; ask not its worth of me : 
 
 You hold my heart ; turn there if you would see. 
 
 31 
 
Kardol 
 
 Like Tristram desolate by a sunlit sea, 
 
 I wait for you, Beloved, and I stand 
 
 Gazing forever toward a foreign land, 
 Where you sojourn and where I cannot be ; 
 But here the waters sparkle joyfully 
 
 And, heartsick, I desire God's almighty hand. 
 
 That I may cross the ocean, as that band 
 Which walked dryshod to life and victory. 
 You wander in old cities, still and grey. 
 
 And with the hum of summer, or the breath 
 Of spring, or thin-toned bells at close of day. 
 
 Perchance the thought of me will come, like Death, 
 To sink into your soul, and take away 
 
 Something of you, to show that you keep faith. 
 
 32 
 
The Land of Fancy 
 
 To John Hall Wheelock 
 
 You taught me, Friend, to love the gift of song, 
 
 And led my steps through Fancy's dim-hued land, 
 
 Fairer than that fair canvas Watteau's hand 
 
 Has sketch'd ; where a gay-coloured, laughing throng. 
 
 On Cytherea's island moves among 
 
 The leafy trees, in stately saraband 
 
 Or measured minuet, while lovers stand 
 
 Beside their lov'd ones ; for Love's day is long. 
 
 How much more rare the realm that you have shown : 
 
 Damsels more lovely, and more shelt'ring trees ; 
 
 And softer music, borne upon a breeze 
 
 Gentler than fairy fingers laid upon 
 
 The cheek, when Day from Evening's path has flown — 
 
 These beauties, by your guidance, I have known. 
 
 33 
 
William Wordsworth 
 
 Enraptured singer of the glorious earth, 
 
 The cloud-capped mountain and the flowery lea, 
 The shining streamlet and the moonlit sea ; 
 The thousand wonders of great Nature's birth : 
 That which I find of most enduring worth, 
 Ringing adown time's paths eternally, 
 As some clear curfew bell is borne to me. 
 When gentle evening stills the noise of earth ; 
 
 Is thy clear summons to the soul of man 
 To turn to Nature, and in her behold 
 
 The mystic symbols of God's loving plan 
 To lead us safely to His heavenly fold. 
 Where we may share the peace that Nature shows 
 In each green pasture and new-budding rose. 
 
 34 
 
My Garden 
 
 I v/ALKED within my garden plot, 
 Where loveHest flow'rs abound ; 
 
 The lazy sun was still abed, 
 My plants in slumber sound. 
 
 But soon the blossoms raised their heads 
 And danced in childish glee. 
 
 Startled, I look'd towards the sun. 
 And found no sun but thee ! 
 
 35 D 2 
 
At Twilight 
 
 Ashes of dead love and dead desire : 
 The silent room, the crackling fire — 
 
 Could you forget, could you forget ? 
 
 Speechless we sat, your eyes downcast ; 
 And, though we had the happy past, 
 
 Your eyes were wet, your eyes were wet. 
 
 Perchance you felt the future days. 
 Which brought the sund'ring of our ways— 
 But we had met, but we had met. 
 
 O happy days ! glad Memory brings 
 Remembrance of forgotten things — 
 Be with us yet, be with us yet. 
 
 36 
 
A la plus belle 
 
 Chanson d'aa-iour, 
 Chanson de jeunessc. 
 Luit le printemps 
 D'eternelle ivresse. 
 
 Chanson de deuil. 
 Chanson de vieillesse 
 Aux mains de Dieu 
 Nouvelle tendresse. 
 
 37 
 
The Lonely Road 
 
 I WALKED along a lonely road, 
 
 O'er many a tedious hill ; 
 While all around me stretch'd a world, 
 
 Dark, desolate, and still. 
 
 Weary and sad of heart I trudged ; 
 
 The harsh ground hurt my feet : 
 I was anhunger'd, yet I saw 
 
 No place to sit and eat. 
 
 I walked along a lonely road. 
 Through many an humble town. 
 
 Where men and maids danced on the green 
 To win a rustic crown. 
 
 The broken road led on and up 
 
 Across a mountain pass : 
 I came into a shady glen, 
 
 And sat me on the grass. 
 
 I walked along a lonely road ; 
 
 A figure came in sight, 
 Which nearer drew, and soon became 
 
 A maiden dressed in white. 
 
 38 
 
THE LONELY ROAD 
 
 I struggled on ; my set eyes burned : 
 The maiden still drew near. 
 
 Her eyes were kind, her voice was like 
 The running streamlet clear. 
 
 I walked along a lonely road, 
 The maiden's hand in mine ; 
 
 While all around, the dull grey world 
 Glowed in the bright sunshine. 
 
 No longer lonely was the road, 
 
 Nor sad of heart was I ; 
 For at the last, my love beside, 
 
 I'll sleep beneath the sky. 
 
 39 
 
Come Back 
 
 Come back ! you have been long away ; 
 
 'Tis almost sunset, and the dimming light 
 Makes the three islands seem so far away 
 
 'Neath the grey wings of the approaching niglit. 
 
 'Tis almost dark. I hear your voice, 
 
 And all the sadness from my tortur'd heart 
 
 Is gone ; as when at dawn a bird's glad voice 
 Makes the long-ling'ring night in haste depart. 
 
 4c 
 
On Hearing of a friend's 
 Engagement 
 
 ''Blight star, would I were steadfast as thou art " 
 
 May I now sing the praise of her who shines 
 Ev'n as a star in the blue dome of night; 
 Lighting the heavens with a lustrous light 
 
 Everlastingly, till the dim dark decHnes. 
 
 As the subhmity of God's designs 
 
 Never is shown to our poor mortal sight, 
 Only by faith may we suspect how bright 
 
 Rises elsewhere the star our night defines. 
 
 Come and shine on me once again, my Star ! 
 Radiant in beauty ; thy presence grant me peace, 
 Or else thine absence faith to know thy rays 
 
 Shine on another, granting him release 
 Beyond this dizzy world ; and all his days 
 Youth, and the love that links the near and far. 
 
 41 
 
My Gift 
 
 " L' amor die move il sole e 1' altre stelle " 
 
 Three kings their gifts before the Christ Child laid 
 
 And knelt in homage to the world's dear king ; 
 While all the angels, in bright ranks arrayed, 
 
 Their splendour lent to grace the offering. 
 Gold, myrrh, frankincense, were the gifts thus brought 
 
 By puissant princes of a time outgrown, 
 To that Immortal Son, who to us taught 
 
 The power almighty ruling Heaven's throne. 
 No gifts have I that royal donors bear : 
 
 Gold in rare patterns, gems of priceless worth ; 
 Yet to your loveliness a gift more rare, 
 
 Even the jewel which Christ gave to earth. 
 Thus, Lady, may this sonnet sing to thee 
 Of Love that is, and at all times shall be. 
 
 42 
 
Easter 
 
 The years are passing, and with Time comes change 
 The rising of the tide Eternity 
 Covers our Hves, as on a beach the sea 
 
 Makes the famihar places new and strange. 
 
 This is the spring, and the cloud-dappl'd skies 
 Gleam with the sunshine ; and the lusty breeze 
 Blows, joyous, through the newly-budding trees, 
 
 And with the birds our waken'd spirits rise. 
 
 The season passes, and the summer days 
 
 With their soft warmth, and languid, perfum'd air. 
 Give place to winter; when the branches bare 
 
 Sigh with the cold, and the glad Yule-logs blaze. 
 
 So with our lives ; to us come days of pain, 
 When we must cry against the bitter world, 
 Forgetting the dim hills, in mist close curl'd. 
 
 And the fresh springtime on the flow'ring plain. 
 43 
 
EASTER 
 
 When you have reached this sad and weary time, 
 Dear Friend, forget me not ; nor this glad spring. 
 When, by the wind-swept river wandering. 
 
 We talked together of the joys of rhyme. 
 
 Open this book, when you have thought of me, 
 And, reading there, perchance the present pain 
 Will be assuaged, and you will smile again 
 
 For the swift heaUng of a memory. 
 
 Yet if we meet not in the passing years. 
 
 We hold God's promise of a bright to-morrow ; 
 When we receive His gift of joy for sorrow. 
 
 And, meeting one another, smile through tears. 
 
 44 
 
A Valentine 
 
 Love is no rosy boy, 
 Young and uncouth ; 
 
 Dark skinn'd, dark ey'd is he, 
 In very truth. 
 
 Ah, Love, thou naughty boy ! 
 
 Bleeding from many wounds, 
 
 On thee I wait. 
 Now heal my hurts, or else 
 
 Death seals my fate 
 
 45 
 
At Night 
 
 Many the stars that come, 
 
 In haste to keep 
 Safely my Lady fair, 
 
 Sound in her sleep. 
 
 Ah, happy stars ! 
 
 Lend me your place awhile ; 
 Let me but stay 
 
 Enraptur'd through the night- 
 Night without day ! 
 
 46 
 
My Prayer 
 
 Send down upon me once again Thy grace, 
 
 God ! Teach me to mortify the clay. 
 And lead me onward by the heavy way 
 
 That comes at length to the most perfect place 
 Where Thou art thron'd, while saints themselves 
 abase ; 
 Guiding the passage of each toilsome day, 
 Knowing the sorrows whose relief we pray, 
 Holding all joy in Thy calm, shining face. 
 
 Lord, as the cripple v/ho once heard Thy voice,- 
 
 1 would beseech Thee come and say to me : 
 " Rise ! thine infirmity put off; rejoice ! 
 
 There is no sin I may not purge from thee." 
 Thou hast the soul ; now let the body be 
 Again the subject of Thy loving choice 
 
 47 
 
Fleart's Garden 
 
 I HAVE a garden fill'd with many flowers : 
 The mignonette, the sweet pea and the rose ; 
 Daisies and daffodils, whose colour glows 
 
 The fairer for the verdure which embowers 
 
 Their beauty, and sets forth their hidden powers 
 To charm my heart, whenever at the close 
 Of day's dull hurry, I would seek repose 
 
 In my still garden in the dark'ning hours. 
 
 Thus, Lady, do I keep a place apart, 
 
 Wherein my love for you cloister'd shall be, 
 
 Far from the rattle of the city cart ; 
 
 Ev'n as my garden ; where daily I may see 
 The flowers of your love, and none from me 
 
 May win the hidden secret of my heart. 
 
 48 
 
The Vision 
 
 I STOOD before the gates of Sin, 
 
 And watched the motley, laughing throng 
 Press eagerly to enter in ; 
 
 And as I went to do her wrong, 
 I saw her face. 
 
 I buffeted the storm of Pain, 
 And nowhere found I any rest ; 
 
 Yet when I thought to seek the main 
 Upon the foaming river's breast, 
 I saw her face. 
 
 O unforgotten sight ! that clears 
 The murky mist of mortal strife ; 
 
 God grant that when my spirit nears 
 The morning of immortal life, 
 I see her face ! 
 
 49 
 
Revelation 
 
 O TIME of rapture, time when first I knew 
 Of thy soft radiance shed athwart my night, 
 My lovely Star, which makest all things bright ; 
 
 The murky false lit by the shining true ! 
 
 Clear were the valleys which I then passed through, 
 Led by the brilliance of thy steady light. 
 To reach the peak whence I could gain a sight 
 
 Of the fair land toward which my footsteps drew. 
 
 Kind Star, come down to earth, again to prove — 
 As Christ once proved of our weak mortal state, 
 
 When thy bright harbinger in splendour stood 
 Above the cradle where great kings did wait. 
 
 In wond'ring worship of God's flesh and blood — • 
 Mankind is naught without Immortal Love. 
 
 50 
 
The Concert 
 
 O MUSIC, when the Hght grows dim, 
 
 Sing thou the praises of my love to me ! 
 
 O Sun, hid by the mountain's rim, 
 Bring me a message of Eternity ! 
 
 Love is but longing ; 
 
 So sing the strings : 
 Man is aspiring 
 
 To higher things. 
 
 Night falls : the spent day quickly dies ; 
 
 The music sounds a perfect final close. ' 
 O Love ! Nature now sleeping lies, 
 
 As we shall sleep, calm in our last repose. 
 
 51 E 2 
 
Konigskinder 
 
 (Suggested by Humperdinck's opera) 
 
 As that young prince who saw his crowned queen, 
 Come through the meadows on a springtide morn, 
 To gladden with her grace his heart forlorn, 
 
 And lead his soul to infinite things unseen : 
 
 Or as, amid harsh winter's lonely sheen. 
 
 The world about them with dumb anguish torn. 
 The twain return'd ; she by her lover borne. 
 
 In that white world a bright branch, blossoming, 
 green. 
 
 Thus, Lady, do I wait the time when you 
 
 Shall burst upon my sight one summer day ; 
 
 Teaching my lips what my dumb heart would say, 
 The silver message of my service true ; 
 
 Of love wherein the wondering world may be 
 
 Partaker of love's immortality. 
 
 ^2 
 
On a Line by Henry King 
 
 ^' Till we shall meet and never part." 
 
 What words more truly tell my hope than these ? 
 
 The gentle freshness of the summer breeze, 
 The lovely fragrance of a field of flowers, 
 The rapid passing of unnumber'd hours — 
 These are the spokesmen of my eager heart. 
 
 Yes, we shall meet and never part. 
 
 Ah, Love ! when shall this happy meeting be — 
 By the broad bosom of this dull gray sea, 
 The restless humming of the city street, 
 Or at the last, when our weak, weary feet 
 Shall do the bidding of a joyful heart? 
 
 53 
 
Morning Moonrise 
 
 O GENTLE Moon ! thy limpid light, 
 With more than lover's constancy, 
 Shall guard the bed whereon I lie, 
 
 From all the terrors of the night. 
 
 No beast shall come, nor goblin bold, 
 
 To fright my mind with dreams of dread ; 
 But laughing fairies 'round my bed 
 
 Shall sing me plaintive songs and old. 
 
 To see thy silver Self appear. 
 
 And slowly climb across the dark. 
 Why should the angry watch-dog bark ? 
 
 O gracious Moon, shine clear, shine clear ! 
 
 54 
 
A Petition to God the Father 
 
 If I may know the perfect truth, 
 The simple innocence of youth, 
 Which, like a garment laid away, 
 I have forgot full many a day : 
 Ah, if I may ! 
 
 If I may know the present pain 
 Is harbinger of joy again ; 
 As this white winter covering 
 Is but the outer cloak of spring. 
 
 If I may know the Church of God 
 Was made for me, poor, worthless clod ; 
 That I am brother to God's Son, 
 Blest by His Spirit, Three in One. 
 
 If I may know that pride of birth 
 Has riven nations of the earth. 
 And [prostitute and beggar are 
 My long-lost brethren from afar. 
 55 
 
A PETITION TO GOD THE FATHER 
 
 If I may know that lust of gold 
 Was his who once my Saviour sold ; 
 And those who buy and sell to-day 
 Would have me bid my soul away. 
 
 If I may know my fellow men 
 Will dub my hopes but " Dreams again ! " 
 For they, perchance, will never see 
 The universal harmony. 
 
 Then I may kneel before my Lord, 
 And say : " I know the world's reward ; 
 But I have seen Thy light. Take me ! 
 My life that some few blind may see ! " 
 Ah, if I may ! 
 
 56 
 
Love the Guide 
 
 Love led my steps through many tortuous ways : 
 
 Through city streets where Love walked close to 
 Sin; 
 
 And past bleak buildings where men toil to win 
 Their daily bread through years of endless days. 
 Love's eyes were laughing when I met his gaze ; 
 
 Yet still I follow'd, ever out and in, 
 
 From the confusion of the city's din 
 To the dim lanes where Love with peasants plays. 
 
 Love came at length to the low-ceiling'd room 
 In which you sat, one cold October eve, 
 And left me ; but before Love took his leave, 
 I saw him from a roguish page become 
 A radiant angel, from whose shining eyes 
 I learned your presence was Love's paradise. 
 
 57 
 
To One Who Complained of the 
 Wind in her Face 
 
 Rough Satyr Wind, forbear thy rude embrace ! 
 
 From such uncouthness must my Lady flee. 
 
 As that fair nymph who underneath the sea 
 Sought from Alpheus a secluded place. 
 Too eager art thou for my Lady's grace ; 
 
 And yet, O Wind ! should I complain of thee ? 
 
 If sight of God the joy of saints shall be, 
 What bliss finds Nature in my Lady's face ! 
 
 Hence ! sylvan creatures whom I sang before ; 
 Hence ! each crude deity beneath whose form 
 Lurks bestial man, as doth in flowers the worm. 
 
 Teach me instead from Crestien's lovely lore, 
 
 Or Gottfried's " Tristram," wherein Passion's storm 
 
 Bursts not its bonds, yet glows for evermore. 
 
 58 
 
With a Copy of '' The Price of 
 Lis Doris " 
 
 Here read the price once gladly paid by Lis, 
 And learn the lesson that a love so slain, 
 May, phoenix-like, in splendour rise again ; 
 
 Devotion crowned with a lasting bliss. 
 
 This is my prayer : at least a share of his 
 
 Supreme surrender, that through years of pain, 
 Steadfast in love and service I remain 
 
 To be rewarded for the joy I miss. 
 
 Grant me the grace, O God, this Christmas Eve 
 To know a part of Thine immortal love ! 
 That by this knowledge I at last may prove 
 
 My worthiness my highest hope to leave. 
 Or else — blest favour of the Lord above — • 
 
 My highest hope from her dear hands receive. 
 
 59 
 
Out of the West 
 
 O TAKE me back to England ! 
 
 Where the grass is growing green, 
 And the trees bend low and v.hisper 
 
 To the stream that flows between. 
 
 There's a tall, grey college tower. 
 And a cloud-deck'd summer sky ; 
 
 And a flash of rippling sunshine 
 Along the spires of the High. 
 
 O take me back to England ! 
 
 Where the bleating of the sheep, 
 And the swish of leafy branches, 
 
 Lull the tired mind to sleep. 
 
 There's a broad and pleasant meadow 
 By a sun-kiss'd classic stream, 
 
 And a walk 'neath lofty tree-tops, 
 
 Where the great have loved to dream. 
 60 
 
OUT OF THE WEST 
 
 take me back to England ! 
 Where the roses now are blown, 
 
 And a fresh-cheek'd girl is waiting 
 For the man she's never known. 
 
 1 have only seen the prairie, 
 
 And the Rocky Mountain snows ; 
 But my heart cries out for England 
 In the month that brings the rose. 
 
 6i 
 
The Record 
 
 E'en as I write upon the frosted pane, 
 And what I write is blotted out again ; 
 So seem my faults, when my dear Lady tries 
 To blot them out from all too curious eyes. 
 
 62 
 
The thanks of the Atitho?' are due to the Editors of 
 the Bellman, Smart Set and Book News Monthly, 
 for permission to reprint verses that first appeared in 
 their magazi7ies. 
 
LONDON : PRINTED BY WM. CLOV/ES AND SONS, LIMITED.