} ! CLIFTON CHAPEL AND OTHER SCHOOL POEMS BY HENRY NEWBOLT LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET 1908 b^ PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD. LONDON AND AYLESBURY. UCSB LIBRARIJ CONTENTS CLIFTON CHAPEL . • " « 5 VITA! LAMPADA. , 8 HE FELL AMONG THIEVES . TO THE SCHOOL AT WAR ' ' 15 THE VOLUNTEER 17 THE SCHOOLFELLOW 18 ON SPION KOP . . 19 FOR A MEMORIAL . . 20 THE NON-COMBATANT . . 21 COMMEMORATION , . ■ 23 THE ECHO. • • • • 27 THE BEST SCHOOL OF ALL. . 29 EPISTLE TO F. E YOUNGHUSBAND . 32 NOTES . 40 O STRENGTH DIVINE OF ROMAN DAYS, O SPIRIT OF THE AGE OF FAITH, GO WITH OUR SONS ON ALL THEIR WAYS, WHEN WE LONG SINCE ARE DUST AND WRAITH. CLIFTON CHAPEL This is the Chapel : here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts of youth, And heard the words that one by one The touch of Life has turned to truth. Here, in a day that is not far. You too may speak with noble ghosts Of manhood and the vows of war You made before the Lord of Hosts. To set the Cause above renown. To love the game beyond the prize, To honour, while you strike him down, The foe that comes with fearless eyes : 5 6 CLIFTON CHAPEL To count the life of battle good, And dear the land that gave you birth, And dearer yet the brotherhood That binds the brave of all the earth — My son, the oath is yours : the end Is His, Who built the world of strife. Who gave His children Pain for friend And Death for surest hope of life. To-day and here the fight's begun, Of the great fellowship you're free ; Henceforth the School and you are one, And what you are, the race shall be. God send you fortune : yet be sure, Among the lights that gleam and pass. You'll live to follow none more pure Than that which glows on yonder brass CLIFTON CHAPEL " Qui procul hinc" the legend's writ — The frontier-grave is far away — Qui ante diem, periit : Sed mi/es, sed pro patrid^ VITAI LAMPADA There's a breathless hush in the Close to night — Ten to make and the match to win — A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in. And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat, Or the selfish hope of a season's fame, But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote — " Play up ! play up ! and play the game ! " The sand of the desert is sodden red — Red with the wreck of a square that broke ; — 8 VITAI LAMPADA 9 The Catling's jammed and the Colonel dead, And the regiment blind with dust and smoke. The river of death has brimmed his banks, And England's far and Honour a name, But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks : " Play up ! play up ! and play the game I " This is the word that year by year, While in her place the School is set, Every one of her sons must hear. And none that hears it dare forget. This they all, with a joyful mind. Bear through life like a torch in flame, And falling fling to the host behind — " Play up ! play up ! and play the game HE FELL AMONG THIEVES " Ye have robbed," said he, " ye have slaughtered and made an end ; Take your ill-got plunder, and bury the dead : What will ye more of your guest and some- time friend ? " " Blood for our blood," they said. He laughed : " If one may settle the score for five I am ready ; but let the reckoning stand till day : I have loved the sunlight as dearly as any alive." " You shall die at dawn," said they. HE FELL AMONG THIEVES ii He flung his empty revolver down the slope, He climbed alone to the eastward edge of the trees ; All night long in a dream untroubled of hope He brooded, clasping his knees. He did not hear the monotonous roar that fills The ravine where the Yassin river sullenly flows ; He did not see the starlight on the Laspur hills. Or the far Afghan snows. He saw the April noon on his books aglow. The wistaria trailing in at the window wide ; He heard his father's voice from the ter- race below Calling him down to ride. 12 HE FELL AMONG THIEVES He saw the gray little church across the park, The mounds that hide the loved and honoured dead ; The Norman arch, the chancel softly dark, The brasses black and red. He saw the School Close, sunny and green, The runner beside him, the stand by the parapet wall, The distant tape, and the crowd roaring between. His own name over all. He saw the dark wainscot and timbered roof, The long tables, and the faces merry and keen ; The College Eight and their trainer dining aloof. The Dons on the dais serene. HE FELL AMONG THIEVES 13 He watched the liner's stem ploughing the foam, He felt her trembling speed and the thrash of her screw ; He heard her passengers' voices talking of home, He saw the flag she flew. And now it was dawn. He rose strong on his feet, And strode to his ruined camp below the wood ; He drank the breath of the morning cool and sweet ; His murderers round him stood. Light on the Laspur hills was broadening fast, The blood-red snow-peaks chilled to a dazzling white ; 14 HE FELL AMONG THIEVES He turned, and saw the golden circle at last, Cut by the eastern height. " O glorious Life, Who dvvellest in earth and sun, I have lived, I praise and adore Thee." A sword swept. Over the pass the voices one by one Faded, and the hill slept. THE SCHOOL AT WAR All night before the brink of death In fitful sleep the army lay, For through the dream that stilled their breath Too gauntly glared the coming day. But we, within whose blood there leaps The fullness of a life as wide As Avon's water where he sweeps Seaward at last with Severn's tide, We heard beyond the desert night The murmur of the fields we knew, And our swift souls with one delight Like homing swallows northward flew. 15 i6 THE SCHOOL AT WAR We played again the immortal games, And grappled with the fierce old friends, And cheered the dead undying names, And sang the song that never ends ; Till, when the hard, familiar bell Told that the summer night was late, Where long ago we said farewell We said farewell by the old gate. " O Captains unforgot," they cried, " Come you again or come no more, Across the world you keep the pride. Across the world we mark the score." THE VOLUNTEER "He leapt to arms unbidden, Unneeded, overbold ; His face by earth is hidden, His heart in earth is cold. " Curse on the reckless daring That could not wait the call, The proud fantastic bearing That would be first to fall ! " O tears of human passion, Blur not the image true ; This was not folly's fashion. This was the man we knew. '^ 3 THE SCHOOLFELLOW Our game was his but yesteryear ; We wished him back ; we could not know The selfsame hour we missed him here He led the line that broke the foe. Blood-red behind our guarded posts Sank as of old the dying day ; The battle ceased ; the mingled hosts Weary and cheery went their way : " To-morrow well may bring," we said, " As fair a fight, as clear a sun." Dear lad, before the word was sped. For evermore thy goal was won. i8 ON SPION KOV Foremost of all on battle's fiery steep Here Vertue ^ fell, and here he sleeps his sleep, A fairer name no Roman ever gave To stand sole monument on Valour's grave. ' Major N. H. Vertue, of the Buffs, Brigade- Major to General Woodgate, was buried where he fell, on the edge of Spion Kop, in front of the British position. 19 FOR A MEMORIAL 1899-1902 Clifton, remember these thy sons who fell Fighting far over sea : For they in a dark hour remembered well Their warfare learned of thee. THE NON-COMBATANT Among a race high-handed, strong of heart, Sea-rovers, conquerors, builders in the waste, He had his birth ; a nature too complete, Eager and doubtful, no man's soldier sworn And no man's chosen captain ; born to fail, A name without an echo : yet he too Within the cloister of his narrow days Fulfilled the ancestral rites, and kept alive The eternal fire ; it may be, not in vain : For out of those who dropped a downward glance Upon the weakling huddled at his prayers. 22 THE NON-COMBATANT Perchance some looked beyond him, and then first Beheld the glory, and what shrine it filled, And to what Spirit sacred : or perchance Some heard him chanting, though but to himself, The old heroic names : and went their way, And hummed his music on the march to death. COMMEMORATION I SAT by the granite pillar, and sunlight fell Where the sunlight fell of old, And the hour was the hour my heart remembered well. And the sermon rolled and rolled As it used to roll when the place was still unhaunted. And the strangest tale in the world was still untold. And I knew that of all this rushing of urgent sound That I so clearly heard, 23 24 COMMEMORATION The green young forest of saplings clustered round Was heeding not one word : Their heads were bowed in a still serried patience Such as an angel's breath could never have stirred. For some were already away to the hazardous pitch, Or lining the parapet wall, And some were in glorious battle, or great and rich, Or throned in a college hall : And among the rest was one like my own young phantom, Dreaming for ever beyond my utmost call. " O Youth," the preacher was crying, " deem not thou Thy life is thine alone ; COMMEMORATION 25 Thou bearest the will of the ages, seeing how They built thee bone by bone, And within thy blood the Great Age sleeps sepulchred Till thou and thine shall roll away the stone. " Therefore the days are coming when thou shalt burn With passion whitely hot ; Rest shall be rest no more ; thy feet shall spurn All that thy hand hath got ; And One that is stronger shall gird thee, and lead thee swiftly Whither, O heart of Youth, thou wouldest not." And the School passed : and I saw the living and dead Set in their seats again, 4 26 COMMEMORATION And I longed to hear them speak of the word that was said, But I knew that I longed in vain. And they stretched forth their hands, and the wind of the spirit took them Lightly as drifted leaves on an endless plain. THE ECHO Of a Ballad sung by Harry Plunket Greene TO HIS old School "... seeing the city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And there/ore built for ever." Twice three hundred boys were we, Long ago, long ago. Where the Downs look out to the Severn Sea. Clifton for aye ! We held by the game and hailed the team, For many could play where few could dream. City of Song shall stand alway. Some were for profit and some for pride, Long ago, long ago. Some for the flag they lived and died. Clifton for aye ! 27 28 THE ECHO The work of the world must still be done, And minds are many though truth be one. City of Song shall stand alway. But a lad there was to his fellows sang, Long ago, long ago, And soon the world to his music rang. Clifton for aye ! Follow your Captains, crown your Kings, But what will ye give to the lad that sings ? City of Song shall stand alway. For the voice ye hear is the voice of home. Long ago, long ago. And the voice of Youth with the world to roam. Clifton for aye I The voice of passion and human tears, And the voice of the vision that lights the years. City of Song shall stand alway. THE BEST SCHOOL OF ALL It's good to see the School we knew, The land of youth and dream, To greet again the rule we knew Before we took the stream : Though long we've missed the sight of her, Our hearts may not forget ; We've lost the old delight of her, We keep her honour yet. We'll honour yet the School we knew, The best School of all : We'll honour yet the rule we knew, Till the last bell call. For, working days or holidays, And glad or melancholy days, They were great days and jolly days A t the best School of all. 29 30 THE BEST SCHOOL OF ALL The stars and sounding vanities That half the crowd bewitch, What are they but inanities To him that treads the pitch ? And Where's the wealth, I'm wondering, Could buy the cheers that roll When the last charge goes thundering Beneath the twilight goal ? The men that tanned the hide of us, Our daily foes and friends, They shall not lose their pride of us Howe'er the journey ends. Their voice, to us who sing of it. No more its message bears. But the round world shall ring of it, And all we are be theirs. To speak of Fame a venture is. There's little here can bide ; But we may face the centuries, And dare the deepening tide : THE BEST SCHOOL OF ALL 31 For though the dust that's part of us To dust again be gone, Yet here shall beat the heart of us — The School we handed on ! WeHl honour yet the School we knew. The best School of all : We' II honour yet the rule tve knew, Till the last bell call. For, working days or holidays, And glad 0? melancholy days, They were great days and jolly days At the best School of all EPISTLE To Colonel Francis Edward Younghusband Across the Western World, the Arabian Sea, The Hundred Kingdoms and the Rivers Three, Beyond the rampart of Himalayan snows, And up the road that only Rumour knows, Unchecked, old friend, from Devon to Thibet, Friendship and Memory dog your foot- steps yet. Let not the scornful ask me what avails So small a pack to follow mighty trails : Long since I saw what difference must be Between a stream like you, a ditch like me. 32 EPISTLE 33 This drains a garden and a homely field Which scarce at times a living current yield ; The other from the high lands of his birth Plunges through rocks and spurns the pastoral earth, Then, settling silent to his deeper course, Draws in his fellows to augment his force. Becomes a name, and broadening as he goes. Gives power and purity where'er he flows, Till, great enough for any commerce grown, He links all nations while he serves his own. Soldier, explorer, statesman, what in truth Have you in common with homekeeping youth ? " Youth," comes your answer like an echo faint ; 5 34 EPISTLE And youth it was that made us first acquaint. Do you remember when the Downs were white With the March dust from highways glaring bright, How you and I, like yachts that toss the foam, From Penpole Fields came stride and stride for home ? One grimly leading, one intent to pass, Mile after mile we measured road and grass, Twin silent shadows, till the hour was done, The shadows parted, and the stouter won. Since then I know one thing beyond appeal — How runs from stem to stern a trim-built keel. EPISTLE 35 Another day — but that's not mine to tell, The man in front does not observe so well ; Though, spite of all these five-and-twenty years, As clear as life our schoolday scene appears. The guarded course, the barriers and the rope ; The runners, stripped of all but shivering hope ; The starter's good grey head ; the sudden hush ; The stern white line ; the half-unconscious rush ; The deadly bend, the pivot of our fate ; The rope again ; the long green level straight ; The lane of heads, the cheering half- unheard. The dying spurt, the tape, the judge's word, 36 EPISTLE You, too, I doubt not, from your Lama's hall Can see the Stand above the worn old wall, Where then they clamoured as our race we sped, Where now they number our heroic dead. As clear as life you, too, can hear the sound Of voices once for all by " lock-up " bound, And see the flash of eyes still nobly bright. But in the " Bigside scrimmage " lost to sight. Old loves, old rivalries, old happy times, These well may move your memory and my rhymes ; These are the Past ; but there is that, my friend, Between us two, that has nor time nor end. Though wide apart the lines our fate has traced EPISTLE 37 Since those far shadows of our boyhood raced, In the dim region all men must explore — The mind's Thibet, where none has gone before — Rounding some shoulder of the lonely trail We met once more, and raised a lusty hail. " Forward ! " cried one, " for us no beaten track, No city continuing, no turning back ; The past we love not for its being past. But for its hope and ardour forward cast : The victories of our youth we count for gain Only because they steeled our hearts to pain. And hold no longer even Clifton great Save as she schooled our wills to serve the State. 38 EPISTLE " Nay, England's self, whose thousand- year-old name Burns in our blood like ever-smouldering flame, Whose Titan shoulders as the world are wide t And her great pulses like the Ocean tide, Lives but to bear the hopes we shall not see — Dear mortal Mother of the race to be." Thereto you answered, "Forward ! in God's name : I own no lesser law, no narrower claim. A freeman's Reason well might think it scorn To toil for those who may be never born, But for some Cause not wholly out of ken, Some all-directing Will that works with men EPISTLE 39 Some Universal under which may fall The minor premiss of our effort small ; In Whose unending purpose, though we cease, We find our impulse and our only peace." So passed our greeting, till we turned once more, I to my desk and you to rule Indore. To meet again — ah ! when ? Yet once we met, And to one dawn our faces still are set. NOTES This collection is published at the request of the Head- master of Clifton. It contains one piece — the Epistle to Younghusband — which has not yet appeared in book form : the remaining poems are taken from The Island Race and The Sailing of the Long-Ships. Page 10. "He Fell among Thieves" is in substance the story of the death of Hayward, the traveller, as told in the Younghusbands' Ckitral, Page 20. "Their warfare." Isaiah xl. 2. Page 27. In this "Echo" as hitherto published the third refrain of the original ballad was retained in each verse without alteration. To those who had heard it sung, its meaning could hardly have been doubtful : but by others it was found obscure ; and at the urgent suggestion of a member of the School (IV )8) a plainer version is now substituted. Page 32. " From Devon to Thibet." This Epistle was written near Exeter, September 10, 1904, and sent to Col. Younghusband, then in Lhassa. Page 34. The Short Penpole, March 16, 1878. Page 35. The Old Cliftonians' Race, March 1882. Printed by Haxell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury. 5\D3 THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. 3 1205 02087 5579 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 001 423 315 9 g«^8