Poems A i : Donald F. Goold Johnson UNiVEKSlT'^ Of GALihURNlA POEMS CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS C. F. CLAY, Manager LONDON : FETTER LANE, E.C. 4 NEW YORK : G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS BOMBAY ■» CALCUTTA j-MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. MADRAS J TORONTO : J. M. DENT AND SONS, LTD. TOKYO : MARUZENKABUSHIKI-KAISHA ALL RIGHTS RESERVED L)(n^^j»-L^ J. jttrC'd yp'^lvwo rv_/ POEMS BY DONALD F. GOOLD JOHNSON WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY P. GILES, LiTT.D., Master of Emmanuel College, Cambridge CAMBRIDGE AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1919 P R E F A C E THE poems in this book are all that remains of one who had hardly begun his work in literature when he had to leave it for the grimmer tasks of the European war. Many of the poems included here were written at the front, some even in the trenches on the battlefield whence the author did not return. Hence there are no doubt some things in these verses which the author, if he had lived longer, would have liked to alter. But there is little either in matter or in manner which he would have been forced to change. Donald Fredric Goold Johnson was a son of the Manse. Born on March 6th, 1890, he received his school education from twelve to seventeen at Cater- ham. His home was at Saffron Walden and it is perhaps not too fanciful to detect in his love for describing quiet rural scenes with streams and wood- land the influence of the landscape which he knew most intimately, even though the scene professes to be laid in Thessaly or some other classical land which, except in imagination, he was never destined to see. As he was the youngest of four brothers it was necessary that he should be a teacher for some years before he could proceed to the University. In 1911 he came into residence at Cambridge, having been elected to a sizarship at Ennnanuel College, and ▼i PREFACE read for the Historical Tripos during his first two years. He was musical and was soon elected to a Choral Scholai-ship. Modest as to his own abilities at first he did not talk much or take any conspicuous part in College life. But by and bye he became better known, spoke at the Union, and took an increasingly important place in College societies. After Part I of the Historical Tripos he elected to read for the English section of the Medieval and Modern Languages Tripos. He was not a good examination candidate, though his teachers were sure that he had the root of the matter in him. Literature to him was a part of life, not knowledge to be pursued for gain. But though he took only a low place in the Tripos, he won the Chancellor*'s Medal for English Verse in 1914. Captain Scott's expedition was then much in men's minds and the poem is that headed TJie Soutliern Pole. Johnson wished to make a special study of the text of Chaucer in the year after he gi-aduated and to investigate carefully some of the less well-known manuscripts; and for this purpose his College pro- vided him with the necessary means. But the war was at hand. By the end of the year it was clear to him that the country needed his help and he joined up. Soon he was posted to the Manchester Regiment and in the end of 1915 he went to France. He had previously joined the Roman Catholic Church, and so PREFACE vu some of the poems show perhaps a clearer under- standing than is common of the point of view of the village priest behind the lines and of his congregation. Ever susceptible to the beauty of the quiet country- side, Johnson delighted in the little French villages in which he found himself while he was still far behind the battle line. In the struggle of 1916 he played his part as a brave soldier and a gallant officer. A trench had to be held at all costs and the Germans prevented from advancing. Johnson without hesitation undertook the task but bade his friends good-bye, fully certain that he should not return. ' First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." What harvest Donald Johnson might have reaped in the fulness of time no man can tell ; only a tiny sheaf of the firstfruits remains. And yet from this the reader may augur what the full grain would have been. P. GILES. 11 A^il 1919. CON TE N T S Poems written during the War 1914-1916 PAGE MOTHER AND SONS 1 RESURGIT 2 SPRING, 191o 3 RUPERT BROOKE 4 JUSTITIA VICTRIX 5 CHARLES LAMB 8 VICTOR VICTIMA 9 ADVENT SONG 10 H. M. J. (diedJuly 24tli, 1915) 11 YOUTH AND WAR 12 LES PAUVRES MORTS 14 ODE ON THE RESURRECTION 15 REIMS 20 LOVE IN WAR 21 l'inconnue 22 BATTLE HYMN 24 X CONTENTS Earlier Poems PAGE JUNE 25 COMBIEN APRES^ 26 SUNT LACRIMAE RERUM 28 A VISION 29 ST DYMAS 30 NOX BENIGNA 32 THE RIVER-BRIDGE 33 MY LADY OF THE JOUST 36 A MEMORY 38 A WISH 40 TO A SUNDIAL, SET IN AN OLD ENGLISH GARDEN 41 'CHILD-FORM OF FLESH AND BLOOD' 42 THREE AGES 43 THE GARDEN OF PEACE 47 PERSEPHONE 48 HYLAS 58 THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH 63 THE SOUTHERN POLE 74 MOTHER AND SONS {Cambridge, Easter Term, 1915) We who have loved thee in days long over, Mistress innnortal and Queen of our hearts ; With the passionate strength of a youthful lover, Take, ere for ever the glow departs. Ere the flaming glead of our heart's devotion Flicker and fail as the night blows chill. The homage that stirs no mock emotion 'Tis thine, our Mother, to claim it still. Dear to remember, the high June weather! (Soft thro' the shadows the boat glides on). Rich are the dreams we have gathered together From the long hours of rapturous sun : Tho' now with echoes of warfare sounding. Thy groves remember the cries of old ; And still, with their distant peace surrounding, Thy sons to thy bosom those arms enfold. Then whether the sharp death face us daily, Thy youthful warriors lov'd of thee, Thy towVs and palaces smiling gaily. In vision, our wishful eyes may see: For all the hours of life and pleasure. For all the beauty by thee made known, We pay thee in no stinted measure. But gladly lay our young lives down. RESURGIT Thkv said that strength had passed from off' the eartli With the last blazon of dead Chivalry; That Faith had dipped its lance to Revelry, And God been banished to the strains of mirth. I think not that the blood of them that die Lifts to the stars an empty sacrifice, That prayers but batter a closed Paradise, That heaven can answer not the hearts that cry Upward for comfort; clearer now there ring The song of faith triumphant over death, The sound of praises thro** a mist of tears: And not in vain they make their offering Who, spent and shattered, clutch their dying breath; Behold, the Son of Manhood reappears ! SPRING, 1915 Look long on the last lilac ere it fade; So soon it dies; and when it flowers again Thy body in the still earth will be laid, Asleep to memory, and numb to pain; Deaf to earth"'s music; and for thee no more The crocus-shower'd laburnum shall awake, And to the dawn its dancing tresses shake — Tresses more radiant than Apollo wore. Next year these shall renew their youth, but thou No more may'st look upon the bursting flow'rs. Nor daze thy senses with the breaths of Spring: Silent thou'lt lie throughout the endless hours; And all the pangs of earth"'s awakening Shall not uncalm the stillness of thy brow. RUPERT BROOKE O WHAT fair death could greet him fairer vet Than to be gathered where the sweet sea smiles Lapping so tenderly the Grecian isles ? — Too sad for speech: too beauteous for regret — His mother, England, shall not soon forget Her youngest singer, lovely as the sea: Within the glades of her deep memory His name, his love, his glory she shall set. The flowers are waking in her quiet fields. The woods are robing for their festival. By hedge and stream again the dear birds sing: And all the beauty that the fresh earth yields, And all the springtime''s maiden coronal. Shall be to him a silent offering. JUSTITIA VICTRIX * England sliall ne'er be poor if England strive Rather by virtue than by wealth to thrive.' Dekk Kit's Old Fortunatim , v. 2. ' See how my brave English fight !"' So our last Stuart spake, that day When on the battle's issue lay / His claim to rule of sacred right. Yea, tho' he faced an English foe Whose gain would meaii a fallen crown, Not this might keep the triumph down. Nor could his blood its pride forgo. Two hundred years have passed anon Since in Saint Germain's gloomy pile, 'Mid empty pomp of royal style, His soul unto its King is gone. To-day those hostile banners fly Blown by one breeze and side by side. One common purpose Hames the pride For which their warriors strike and die. And still the claim of heavenly right Flaunts o'er the armies of their foe. To cover up a traitor's blow, To mask the wounds of hell's despite. 5 We mock not thus the Lord of Hosts, Make Him a vassal to oui- praise, Nor echo in earth's stricken ways Demonic taunts and godless boasts. O" Not thus self-satisfied we stand To face the lords of lust and blood, But as in ancient days we stood \\'ith Freedom's banner in our hand. Strong in the panoply of Truth With iron will we take the field, Justice our Captain, Faith the Shield Girding the flower of Britain's youth. On Belgian fields the slaughter'd dead Cry out with louder voices now That their dear land shall never bow To Tyranny her laurell'd head. Low lie the victims on the plain, And smoulder'd cities echo still Their tale of woe from hill to hill: No hand can e'er restore again. Their mighty works of skill and gi-ace — Tow'rs, halls and temples which the dead Had reared, and Time had garlanded With beauty none can now replace. 6 March ! nmrch ! brave comrades, march again ! Strike still to crush the vandal horde, Till Justice bid you sheathe tiie sword, And Victory stay your blood and pain. Till beautiful the flowVs of peace Break from their buds so long up-seaFd, Till Truth shall triumph in the field, And all the red contention cease. And they whose bones for ever lie Deep in that earth whose face grew red With the brave blood these heroes shed — Can human hearts more nobly die.'' Praise is no idle gift, the praise Of lands and races that their might Frees from the menace and the blight Of feckless woes and servile days. Their glorious names shall be adored; Great was their love and gi-eat their worth; Their fame shall purify the earth. And Honour be their dear reward. CHARLES LAMB There are who win on tented fields the prize Of glory, and achieve a moon of fame: Bv fearless deeds these consecrate a name, Gaining an added grace in Beauty ""s eyes. And some there are for whom stern duty lies In paths obscure, lit by no perilous flame; Whose simple worth no plauding lips proclaim, Nor voice of after ages glorifies. Thy path was humble, and thy load of care No fancied burden lightly to appraise; Yet while Fame lives thy memory shall remain ! Rich was thy store of wit and genius rare, And great shall be the harvest of the days Ere kindlier heart than thine can beat again. VICTOR VICTIMA O SOVEREIGN Body broken on the tree, Mine is the traitor kiss that hangs Thee there: Yea, and the garden of 'Vhy pale despair My heart's Gethseniane, That garden where, upon the darkling sward Drunk with the greed of hell, the wage of death, Stealing upon Thee, with her treacherous breath My soul betrays her Lord. Lo ! mine the anguish of Thy pierced side. My malice is that spear that woundeth Thee; Yet for Thy recreant lover. Lord, for me. In silence Thou hast died. Still move Thy gentle lips to love and rue. While round Thee mock the children of Thy pain, ' Forgive them. Father, for their hearts' disdain. They know not what they do."" Breathe now, dear Jesus, as Thy darkness falls The peace no terroi-s quench, no pains dismay; Bring me, all-crucified, with Thee to-day Into Thv Father's halls. ADVENT SONG Jesu ! sweet Fruit of that glad Tree That God Himself did bless With heavenly pure caress, When Gabriel hailed with hiy-h decree Our Lady full of grace, Whose stainless heart Thyself didst fill; Smile with Thy childish face Free us from all peril. Make Thou our hearts so to increase In lowly purity. That ever they may flee The things that are not of Thy peace; But Thou our spirits sway With Thy dear love that may control. Each hour of night or day, Our wantonness of soul. Guard us, dear Saviour, with Thy hand That pierced was for us; So, led and fostered thus. We find at last Thy pleasant land, ^Vhere, purged and purified. We too may dwell within Thy bow'rs With all the sanctified Thro' the eternal hours. 10 H. M. J. {Died July ^J^th^ 19 lo) God fashions for the hearts of men To love, rare souls whose radiant light Thrills like a meteor thro' our ken Streaking the greyness of the night. Not theirs the slow long-numbered yeai-s That smoulder without heat or flame; With fiercer joys and sadder tears These weave a glory for their name. Such light was hers, whom Beauty lent So sweet a temple for the soul; Freely for others it was spent, Till, deepening, the shadows stole. There where beneath the Indian sky, By banks the Ganges' waters lave, Among the swampy rice- fields lie The homes of them she lived to save. Youth, beauty, charm, and strength and health- She laid them at the feet of Love, Gaining a far diviner wealth That pain and death could not remove. After her labour and her pain She tastes the fountains of delight. Counting her human loss but gain : The handmaid in her Master's sight. 11 YOUTH AND WAR Amon'g the windy spaces The star-buds grow to hght ; With pale and weeping faces The day -hours bow to night; Where down the gusty valleys A blast of thunder dies, And in the forest alleys A startled night-bird cries. Not pain but bitter pleasure SuiTounds my spirit here, For life's supernal treasure Is garlanded with fear; Bright trees delight the garden About my love's glad home. But all the flower-roots harden Under the frost of doom. Like the bright stars above me My youthful hopes were set! Yearning for lips that love me; how can I forget The boyish dreams that brought me To the high azure gate Of heaven, where beauty sought me. And love was satiate.'' 12 Now honoiu' lets me dally No longer with desire, But goads me to the valley Of death, and pain, and fire; Not love but hate constraining The soldier in the field. Honour alone remaining Of virtue for a shield. Yet who dare doubt, resigning The joys that mortals prize — Beyond the heart's repining, Behind the sightless eyes — For all the tears and anguish. The piteous dismay — True love at length shall vanquish. And crown the dawning day? 13 LES PAUVRES MORTS At evening thro'' the garden ground I strayed Among the peasant graves of years gone by, A\'here now too many of our youth are laid, The dear, dead flowers of English soldiery; And there an ancient village dame who prayed And wept for that strange-harbour'd argosy I saw, beside a row of mounds new made, Sobbing her mother's heart so piteously. Not for her own she wept ; for she could care For their quiet heritage from day to day; But for the mothers whose sad hearths are bare, Whose poor dear sons Hnd rest so far away From home and England and their Mother's teai-s, To sleep so lonely through the silent yeai-s. 14 ODE ON THE RESURRECTION Out from the womb of Time, 'ITie young day came to birth. Startling with praise sublime The silence of the earth; Till all the skies around Trembled to shimmering light and soft harmonious sound. This is the day designed Thro' all the tale of years, When He whom death confined In triumph reappears. To claim His glorious crown. Hell vanquished, and the might of Satan beaten down. Where pale light crowns the hills With the first flush of dawn, Whose gradual bounty fills The spaces of the morn, Against the eastern skies One awful picture greets the fearful watchers' eyes. Above dark Calvary A lonely rood -tree shows Its hateful imagery, Its panoply of woes : And there the Lord of I^ove did die ; O bitter were the tears of Mary standmg by ! 1.5 How tenderly they bare That Body from the tree, \Vith looks of wan despair. And speechless misery; To the cool garden cave Whose depths should serve the King of Glory for a grave. How lovinglv thev dressed The wounds that Love had borne; How reverently caressed Those features so forlorn ; Smoothed back the tussled hair, Anointing each pale limb with oils and spices rare. The guardian tomb was sealed With the Imperial sign, But breaking day revealed No shackles might confine, Nor watch nor ward restrain The Prince of Life who rose to glorious life again. \\'^hen early in the morn Of that expected day Ere the first light was born On dim hills far away. Those two disciples came Breathing in hopeless hope that son'ow -shrouded name, 16 () what celestial sight Struck their sad imirimus dimib. Of angels radiant bright Guarding an empty tonil)? (No silent body there, Onlv the linen clothes of costly texture fair.) ' What seek ye here?' they cry, ' Have ye so soon forgot ? Behold The Day is nigh, Give praise and sorrow not; Your Master, risen indeed, Goeth to Galilee; speed ye where Ho doth lead/ As sadly they had come, Cerborne with doubt and fear. Thro' the cool garden gloom To that dark sepulchre. Now each heart leaps and thrills With wild delight, and song each soul exultant fills. The dull relentless skies Break into hues of dawn, The sleepy flowers arise And curtsy to the morn. Where thro' the garden way The clustered dew lies fresh, catching the fires of day J. 17 2 And one alone who c-anie — Ere the first morning glow Had sparkled into Hanie — In bitterness of woe; And doubtingly espied Before the cavernous tonib the great stone rolled aside: As she with breaking day Thro' the wet garden fares, She meets upon her way Her Master unawares, And questions Him if He Can tell her where the body of her Lord may be. Then He in answer sweet That puts to flight her fear Doth her, all-wond'ring, greet, And make His presence clear: ' Mary ' — He saith, and she — ' Master ' amazed replies, and bendeth low the knee. ' Arise, arise, Mary, And love shall be your speed, Tell them that mourn for me Their Lord is risen indeed ' — Heaven's purpose is fulfilled. Death may no longer keep the God whom sin had killed. 18 'Twas thus the Prince of Love From rueful death did rise, And bore His wounded shape Inunort to Paradise; Where now He stays in bliss, Till every soul that is Endued with mortal flesh No more shall seek the bitterness of sin. But, clarified within, May potent rise and break the fowler's mesh. Then when the souls made true Do seek the heavenly floor. And Michael with his fieiy sword Guarding the flaming door Doth those proud gates unfurl. That gracious Prince of Love shall stand, Gold-rob\l, and crown'd with diadems of pearl ; And stretching wide each wounded hand, Shall greet with snn'ling face Each soul to that dear place. 19 2—2 REIMS Thy altars smoulder, yet if Europe''s tears Can stav the doom of malice, they are thine To quench the fires that lick thv sacred shrine, And scar the treasures of thy glorious years. Yet nought can salve the heart's despairing fears That knows its Head dishonourd, while rapine Thunders upon His citadel divine, Till all its ancient splendour disappeai's. But courage! tho' no hand can raise again Thy perished glories, garlanded by Time, The arm yet faileth not that ruleth all ! And God Himself the guilty shall arraign, Bidding them answer their inhuman crime Before His everlasting doom shall fall. 20 LOVE IN WAR FOR your mouth's vermilion stain, To watch and love thro' night and day, To sip and taste and drink again, Fragrant as gardens after rain On golden nights of May ! 1 long to steep my eager sight In your young limbs'' deliciousness, Their naked beauty, soft and white. Yielding its grace for my delight. To cure my vain distress. But lips to crush and limbs to bind In silent rapture of desire — Youth's crowning joys — IVe left behind: Yet who to death would be resigned Whose heart love sets afire? When life is free and fighting's done, Will love be sweeter than before? (Hope will not think of you left lone), But when the crowning triumph's won Will ever peace restore Those precious dreams that silent came To soothe my troubled sleep at night? Will love burn with as fierce a flame, And only to repeat your name Bring as secure delight? 21 LINCONNUE I WHO have lived for beauty And found strange comfort so, Since love is all my duty O what can I bestow Save love, unsought, unheeded, As incense for your grace, A gift of adoration For love's dear face. Thro' spring-time dawns of singing. In sunset flowers of flame, I hear for ever ringing The wonder of your name. The magic charm that bears me Behind the fires of dawn, Beyond the smiset silence, All love-forlorn. Tho' other lips shall kiss you And quaff* my wine of love. Shall savour the soft tissue Of lips the fairies wove; Tho' round your fragrant body Twine limbs of living fire. They will not know the passion Of mv desire. 22 Pure as the crystal beaker That but reflects the wine, Your spirit is the liquor With which those bright eyes shine; With half the world to flatter, And all the world to praise. Unspoiled, you taste the rapture, Of youthful days. O gay light-hearted singer Whose song no tremor shows That death with chilly finger Lurks in the shadows close; Wise, you refuse to hearken For whispers of his call; But oh, the heavens would darken If Love should fall ! Ah many are the faces That I have fairest found, In strange and distant places Tve sought the long world round; Yours now, the last and rarest, Of beauty's grace the crown, The gayest and the fairest, I love unknown. 23 BATTLE HYMN Lord God of battle and of pain, Of triumph and defeat. Our human pride, our strength's disdain Judge from Thy mercy -seat; Turn Thou our blows of bitter death ' To Thine appointed end; Open our eves to see beneath Each honest foe a friend. Give us to fight with banners bright And flaming swords of faith; We pray Thee to maintain Thy right In face of hell and death. Smile Thou upon our arms, and bless Our colours in the field. Add Thou, to righteous aims, success With peace and mercy seaPd. Father and Lord of friend and foe Ail-seeing and all-wise. Thy balm to dying hearts bestow, Thy sight to sightless eyes; To the dear dead give life, where pain And death no more dismay. Where, amid Love's long terrorless Reign, All tears are wiped away. 2* JUNE Sweet month of love and roses, hail ! Queen of all joys that never fail; The grasping fingers of fern are open. The may still blossoms adown the vale. And all thy bevy of maiden flow'rs Blush and bloom thro' the golden hours, Where pink, full-blown rhododendron bushes Make on the green lawn fairy bowVs. Softly thy evening sunbeams play. Thine are the iris nights that are day. Thine are the love-born hearts that blossom, Kissing the languorous hours away. O June, Queen June, thy reign is here ! In the palace of days thou hast never a peer; For the voices of bird -throats richly mellow Hail thee as Queen of the garland year. 25 COMBIEN APRES? It mav be, in the after-years, Our souls shall touch across the space, It may be, on my heart of tears Shall break the music of thy grace; But who can make again for me That perfect form, that maddening glee? It may be that thy voice shall speak Across a universe unknown. Like some gold -fleckered sunset streak That crowns one moment's bliss alone; But shall I know in Paradise Thy godly lips and hands and eyes? It may be, in that heavenly land All priests and prophets have foretold. That spectre beings hand in hand The great white throne of God enfold; But shall \feel and see thee there, Ajid kiss the flowers of thy hair? It may be, Sweet, that love shall live Beyond the shadow-hours of Death, That Hope some comfort still shall give When this fond body yields its breath; But could I know that I should see Thy glorious lips, all fear woidd flee. 26 It may be, in another world Far from the sorrowings of this, I still shall watch thy lips shy-curFd And taste their beauty in a kiss; It may be — but the very may Takes half the glorious hope away. Then, Darling, kiss me while the light Shines on thy hair and radiant form, This day at least the sun is bright And bodes no darkness of the storm; Come, let us join our sweet lips fast Tho' this same hour should be our last. 27 SUNT LACRIMAE RERIJM O TO think that Beauty hveth Such a little while, All the sweets of joy it giveth, Kiss and glance and smile, Fading like the fallen day. Dying evermore away, O to think that Love can ever Feel the ice of Death, That the earth it spurns can sever Mingling lips and breath: Cold and sad it lieth still. Once so glowing, now so chill. O to think that Thou my fairest Far away shall fly, And the angel form thou wearest Droop to earth and die; O what joy can overweigh Such deep burdens of dismay ? to think that Beauty dieth Like a thing of dross, Broken in the grave-way lieth Under leaf and moss, All its passion and delight Quench'd amid the voiceless night. 28 A VISION As down from out the flaming quire, The white-cloth''d singers pass'd, And from the carven organ's throat Echo'd a trumpet blast, I saw thy winsome, graceful form Thread the slow-pacing throng. And turn to climb the ancient stair. My sweet-mouthed child of song. And then into my heart there came A strange and sudden glee: I saw an angel pass to heaven, And thou thyself wert he. 29 ST DYMAS Hot was the noon and weary was the road, Dusty and spent the travellers thereon, The Father walking by the ass's head The Mother with her Son. Down into Egypt fleeing from the wrath Of the fierce king who fear'd a rival's birth A lowly babe in Mary's arms He passed Whose Name should rule the earth. So faint and weary to a well-head came, That tiny band of travellers at last, And paused to rest until the heat of day Should all be overpast. A woman drawing water there they meet Who smiles a kindly smile upon the Child, Which sweetly He gives back, and turns in glee Unto that Mother mild. Then Mary to the village maiden spake: ' Give me, I pray thee, of thy water there, For we are hot and parch'd and travel-sore Under this burning air.' 30 Then gave the woman water in her bowl, And Mary drank, and wash'd the babe, and spake Sweet words of blessing to the peasant girl Who gave, their thirst to slake. Then they moved onward, while the woman stood And watched them till the three had pass'd from sight; When homewards gaily singing she did go, A song of glad delight. And took the self-same water in the bowl Wherein the Holy Mother bathed the Child, For pure and clear and bright it sparkled still A fountain undefiPd. And plac'd therein her own poor leprous babe, Dymas his name, and leprous from his birth: Some said as penance for his sire's ill-fame, A robber nothing worth. And she, poor mother, laid him with a sigh Of wondrous pitying love within the bowl; A leper-babe she sprinkled, but drew out A babe all cleans'd and whole. 31 NOX BENIGNA Thro'' the midst of the starlight you came to my soul To lie once again on my breast, And dreams of thy rapturous loveliness stole Across the dark veil of my rest. I saw thee, I touched thee, my arms did entwine Thy body of gossamer flesh, I kissed thy soft hair, than spun silk-thread more fine, Thy lips than dew-roses more fresh. I searchM thy deep eyes for the tale of thy love, Those eyes of so wondrous a hue. For ne'er in the sea nor the star-space above Was seen so enchanted a blue. I kiss'd thy clear cheek, thy soft neck, thy white hands. And mingled thy breath with my own, I bound thy soft arms like sweet osier-bands To the breast where my passion is sown. I awoke ! and the night that was kindled with light Was turnM to the darkness of day; Thy body had pass'd from my touch and my sight. Thy beauty had vanished away, O rapture of God that was mine for an hour. And taken as swiftly as giv'n, O bring me again with my blossoming flow'r The bliss of the angels of heav'n. 32 THE RIVER-BRIDGE The sacred hour again! O silent years, Scarce may I feel how far Time's feet have run Since this dear place I hallow"'d first with tears. Still over lawn and meadow plays the sun, As on that blessed even long ago It deck'd my love and glorified my woe. Here by this crumbling parapet I stood Beneath the drooping willow's veil of June, Teaching my eyes to sound the dreamy flood Whose depths just mirror'd the awakening moon, Like a pale spectral spirit of the sky To mark how soon the golden hour must fly. The golden hour! how could my heart foretell That this one heedless hour should shine alone? Like some green isle where syren-voices dwell. With rose-strewn lawns and dreamy bowers sown, \Miere Love and I might dwell for evermore Nor heed the moaning breakers on the shore. J. 33 3 I knew not that the sun-bath\i hour should be Like this enchanted bridiving when all but life's happiness fades. Peace to thee ! Peace to thee ! arbour of melody, Ne'er may the balm of thy solitude cease. Neighboured and hallow'd by Temple of sanctity. Sleep in thy loveliness, Garden of Peace ! 47 PERSEPHONE PROLOGUE Boy. O FATHEK, I am tir'd with play ; The night is hot, no breeze cloth stir Thro' the tall pine-tops on the hills And all the boys are gone away Back to their homes to cool themselves. Thv work is done, come tell to me Out here upon the cool hillside As is thv wont on summer eves. An ancient tale of Gods and men. Father. The Gods are gracious, The Gods are just; From Olympus their dwelling. The home of immortals. They look upon all men The Children of Earth. The strong and the mighty. The frail and the helpless, The good and the godless, They care for us all. Nor least doth the Mother Of fulness and plenty, ^ Demeter, sweet goddess Of corn and of wine — Of her will I tell thee. Of her and her daughter Fairest Persephone, 48 Queen of Immortals Save Aphrodite Goddess of Beauty Of Beautv and Love. 'Twas summer in the fields of Sicily Long, long ago when yet the earth was young. And that fair footstool of proud Italy Knew not, as yet, the poet's magic tongue ; Still were immortals seen by stream and glen, Nor veiPd their faces from the eyes of men. There came to those glad vales of summer sun Demeter sweet, and fair Persephone, The fairest of immortal maids save one E'er mortal or immortal eye did see. No necklet ever knew such radiant pearls As that sweet maiden with her train of girls. In Enna's fields at break of day they pass, Thro' lily cups and ringing daffodils And violets among the shining grass, To cull the white narcissus from the hills. Persephone with all her girlish train. Alas ! this way she ne'er shall pass again. For far within his darksome realm below, In murky climes that never know the sun, Proud Hades sadly wanders to and fro ; Forth to the earth his wistful gazes run. He sees its Princes gaily wed but he For ever there in loneliness must be. J. 49 Since no immortal maid to be his bride Would leave the sunshine and the suuuuer air, For tiiose sad shades where mortals that have died Make constant moan and wailing ever there. Dark is the cloudy barrier that shields That land from Heroes in Elvsian fields. There Hades reigns alone in sad complain That he alone must reign for evermore, Till Hermes hears his solitary strain And speeds his flight to that forgotten shore- Swift Hermes, winged messenger of heav'n, By whom the edicts of the Gods are giv''n. To him he tells the cause of all his woe. How love to him for ever is denied. For no immortal girl would ever go To P^rebus profound, his willing bride ; And mortal maiden could he never wed, Nor seek a bride among the ghostly dead. But Hermes bids him cheer his troubled breast And stem the tide of all his galling fears. For gods have strength to aid a god's behest, And dry the fountain-heart of all his tears. As thus he spake he cast his gaze above To that sweet vision of immortal love. 50 Thro' garland glades their sweet way gaily wend Persephone and all her maiden band ; They sing a song of love that hath no end And pass the fresh-pulTd Howers from hand to hand. These Hermes sees upgazing from below, And doleful Hades from that land of woe. 'Behold a queen among immortal maids Sweet goddess blossom -eyVl Persephone, Whose fairy foot thro' Enna's sunny glades Makes music in a flowery symphony. No fairer wilt thou gain to be thy bride Tho' thou shalt cross the world from side to side.' Thus Hermes spake and straightway thence did fly Back to the gardens and the halls of heav'n ; And Hades watch'd his going, with a sigh Of blessing for the comfort he had giv'n. Then turn'd again his gaze to earth above And fiird his spirit with the thoughts of love. Then by his magic art he caused to grow Up from the bosom of the radiant earth. Where that sweet goddess walk'd with footsteps slow, The fairest flower e'er beauty brought to birth ; A perfect narcissus of stainless hue Full in her path was sudden brought to view. 51 4—2 For Narcissus was once a mortal boy Who lay beside the marge of a fair lake And saw his image dear ; with wondVing joy He tried but faiPd to reach ; and for its sake He pin"d away with sorrow from that hour And him the gods changed to a lovely flower. She darted forward with a merry cry To pluck a bloom of loveliness so rare. Alas ! no guardian form was standing by, No heavenly warning shook the upper air ! And so in girlish innocence she took The fateful flower, whereat the whole earth shook. The earth was parted at her very feet. And forth a fiery chariot did spring With horses wild, whose breath was burning heat And deadly vapour overpowering; And Hades in the chariot did ride And snatch'd the unwilling goddess to his side. Then quick as he had come they disappear From the sad gaze of all her girlish train. Who fill with bitter groans the callous air With lamentation deep and loud complain ; But sad Persephone with stifl'd breath Is borne to darkness and the land of death. 52 Oh ! loudly mourned Dcmoter for her child. Nor ever might her heart be comforted ; No longer to the silver morn she smiled, But with a dark cloak gathered o'er her head Nine days she wandered all the world around, Holding a flaming torch to scan the ground. Yet still no traces of Persephone Her watchful eyes espied ; but on the morn Of the tenth day, the maiden Hecate She chanc'd to see among the golden corn : Sweet Hecate, the maid of ankle rare, If she might haply lighten her despair. She had but seen the chariot to pass Nor knew or whence it came or whither fled. But the great sun-god, flery Helius, ViewVl all things from his flaming palace dread. And he could tell her where her child was gone And by whose hand the hateful deed was done. Thus Hecate. Demeter forth doth wend Her sad way to the palace of the Sun, If Helius might any comfort lend Or give her tidings of her truant one ; He in his lofty chariot is set 'Where all the streaking flames of dawn are met. 53 He tells her all the melancholy tale : How it had been ordained of Father Zeus Persephone to Erebus' dark pale Should be betrayed by Hades' cunning ruse ; And what great Zeus ordaincth it must be, For he is Lord of Man and Deity. Demeter sad forsook the halls of Heaven, Nor sweet ambrosia tasted any more. But wander'd thro"" the earth, her sad heart riv'n. Nor knew the gladness she had known before ; Thro' ways untrod by men and paths unknown And silent wilderness she pass'd alone. In golden Attica one sunny morn In sweet Eleusis 'neath a crystal sky By a cool well Demeter sat forlorn And bitterly, oh bitterly did cry For her lost child in Erebus' dim shade, With weeping she did mourn and looks dismayM. Forth to the well-side came at early morn The daughters of the King of that bright land ; They see an ancient dame with look forlorn, But nought of her true race they understand, For she had veiled her divinity In garb of eld and looks of misery. 54 Their pitchers filPd they ask her to repair Unto their Father"'s home and there to rest, For that the sun had scorch'd the parched air, And there she might find comfort for her breast. Then gladly with them doth she leave the well A season in that kindlv home to dwell. Now Celeus was the King of that brave land, And Metaneira was his gentle queen ; A fair-fac'd boy they had, of visage tann'd Where the fierce sun and blue sea's kiss had been, A Prince in heart and limb and spirit mild. And him the goddess lov'd as her own child. Demophoon his name, and him she lov'd And sought to make innnortal, but the fear Of his own mother Metaneira prov'd A let to cause the goddess many a tear. For, sleeping, she had plac'd him in the fire With mutter'd charm and incantation dire. But when those magic rites were all but done And all his mortal parts were purg'd away. To that dread room the fearful queen did run And ' Lack a day ! ' she cried ' O lack a day ! "" By mortal speech the awful spell was broke And, mortal still, the hapless boy awoke. 55 Then all the earth was stricken for her woe, For ever did she mourn Persephone, Nor corn, nor fruitful herb, nor How'r did grow, Nor leafy veil put on a single tree ; But all the earth did mourn in visage sad And sombre garb of death and winter clad. Then had the race of mortals perished quite From off the earth and vanished utterly, Yet Father Zeus had pity on their plight And hearken'd to their cry of misery. And Hermes sent across the halcyon seas If he the goddess' sorrow might appease. He proffered all the glory, all the fame That to immortal soul could e'er be giv'n, And wondrous wealth of riches in the name Of Zeus the Father and the King of Heaven, Would she but cease to mourn and freely yield Her balm of life again to grove and field. But ever she in lonely misery With many a broken sigh and many a moan Calls softly for her child Persephone ; Not wealth nor fame she seeks, but her alone, Her daughter, her sweet maid, her lily fair AVith flowVy eyes and flower-encirclVl hair. 56 So Zeus did promise her her child again, If she had tasted nought of food below ; Then lost the goddess all her mighty pain And dried her heart of all its tears of woe. And Hermes crossed again the sullen strand That bounds the borders of that twilight land, And bade proud Hades yield again his bride To the pure sunlight and the mellow air, Who at the bidding of dread Zeus complied Tho** dearly did he love his lady fair, And she at length had listened to his suit And, parting, ate with him a pledge of fruit. Then upwards to her mother's arms she sped ; Yet for that she had tasted food below. For half the year among the ghostly dead To Erebus' dark shadows she must go ; Then back to earth she comes to stray in glee For ever thro' the vales of Sicily. 57 HYLAS Great Heracles was lord of limb and might. A merry boy was master of his heart : His name was Hylas, whom the hero lov'd With a n;reat love of noble purity. Winsome was his beauty as the light That streams from off the very throne of Zeus ; His hair as sunbeams ; and his eyes as blue As the soft waters of the Midland Sea That shine beneath the star-light and the moon ; His lips as rich in beauty as the line Of tender, chasten 'd flame, that mounts and makes Olympus shrouded in a veil of fire. Ever were they together, morn and night. And thro' the long hot day ; and Heracles Taught the fair youth all prowess and delight In manly deeds of arms and venery. So he could box and wrestle with the boys Of his own age and beat them, with the skill That he had learned of Heracles ; and swim Thro' the cool waters of the mountain pools Swifter than they ; and chase the soft-ear'd hare With feet as light and nimble as a hound. Or dapple-breasted fawn ; so gay was he. And he was lov'd and honoured by the boys Who own\l him as their leader in all games Of woodland skill and daring ; and the girls 58 Eyed him with hhishes, and all lov^d him well. But he lov^d Heraclep, and oft with him Roani'd thro' the silent passes of the hills In purest love and highest happiness That mortal souls may know. And when the good ship Argo started forth With bright-ey'd Jason and the heroes all To fetch the Golden Fleece, and Heracles Sailed with them, Hylas followed ; and the life Of all the ship was he ; and when the toil And hardships of the voyage overweighed The hearts of doughty heroes with the thought That they should see their country nevermore, Nevermore see the blue hills in the sun. Or hear the voices of the Grecian girls Laughing in merry welcome, then the boy Hylas bore up their heavy hearts with song Sweeter than any sky-lark's, in the spring. That circles to the sun. And now at length To the Propontine shores the heroes come. And stop to rest and fresh their limbs awhile After their weary rowing ; for the way Was long and full of danger and distress. The rocks were green with mosses and the tin-f Softer than any bed of down, and there They lay and slept, and dream'd of the fair land Whence they had come, and of the noble prize To which they went : and on the morrow morn Rose up renewed in strength of heart and liinb To face the sea again ; yet ere they saiPd They stay VI for one last meal on the firm land, And to refill their cruses from the springs That bubbled soft and fresh within the woods Girding the quiet shore ; and Heracles Apart with Hvlas sat and Telamon, The steadfast hero and the lovely boy, To take his meal ; but Hylas soon uprose And fetched his pitcher from the ship and went Oft' to a little pool within the woods That bubbled with fresh water cool and clear, That Heracles might drink and 'suage his thirst, And live again rejoicing in his strength. Slowly he went his way, and on a pipe Blowing a merry air of youth and glee ; Heracles watch'd his going, and a smile Of pleasure in his beauty lit his face AVith happiness and love. And now the boy To the green margin of the pool is come, Green with all tender growths and gay with flowers That miiTor back the sun, and to the pool His pitcher now he dips, and stooping low- Watches the water sparkle as it fills With a deep gulping sound ; when suddenly From the still water at his very feet He sees a fairy form rise up, and then Another and another till the pool Is fiird with laughing Naiads ; all about His feet they play and blush with rosiness ; Bright, radiant forms of youth, and beauteous As anythi]ig in earth or heaven above. 60 They wind their soft white arms about his neck, And kiss his ruddy hps, and bear him down, Down to their sandy palace far beneath The gHttering water : for his beauty rare Had stoPn their hearts ; and nevermore could they Lose sight of him again. But Hylas, he Cried bitterly and struggled in their arms, For he, poor boy, was loth to leave the sun And the free sky and air, and Heracles And all the hero band ; but nought avail His piteous cries ; alone for answer came The ripple of the water overhead, Stirr'd by the breeze, and softly splash'd across The rocks that lay beside the clear pool's rim Half hidden in the rushes and the sedge. And now the water-nymphs have borne him down, Down in their white arms to the depths below. And now they seek to comfort him, in vain ; All, all in vain ; his tears and bitter cries For help avail not, for they only rise As plaintive whispers to the upper air. But Heracles had miss''d the boy and comes To seek him thro' the woodlands ; but in vain He shouts his name, for only echoes come. ' Hylas ' he cries, and only ' Hylas "■ comes. An empty voice to mock him where he stands. Then over hill and vale the hero goes Crying aloud ; but only to his ear The sound of the soft trickling water comes To answer his despair. Oh nevermore 61 Those happy lovers there shall meet again. Then all the heroes mouni'd for Hylas lost. But the good Argo longs to be away, Nor may they longer stay ; but on again, On to the toil and glory of the quest That they have sworn to seek. But Heracles Passes alone in sadness and dismay. Over the desolate shore and on alone. Nor heeds he in his gi-ief the world around, Hunger, or thirst, or pain ; but comes, at last, After long toils, and many a weary day. To the wide Phasis and the far Colchian shore. t)2 THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH In Tenebros above tlie purple seas, Upon a throne of beryl and of pearl, High in a mount whose brow pierced to the stars Sat Solomon, the Wisdom of the world, The Prince of Men, and all about him lay His Kingdom, the far reaches of the Earth. Pillar and pinnacle and towV and town Stretched to the sky's pale margin, many a plain Traversed by cattle and a thousand Hocks Lay there beneath the dawn ; for he was lord Of Earth and mortal creatures, birds and flowVs, Fish of the sea, beasts of the forest, all Held him for ruler and his voice obey'd. From that dread hour when in the still midnight God had held up the balances of fate Before his dreamy eyes, wherein he saw On this side all the wealth of Earth's desire. Riches and length of days and pow'r and fame. And all of worldly glory ; and on that. Like to a single gem of costliest price, Outweighing all, eternal wisdom lay ; Whose light alone can pierce beyond the world And taste on earth the blessedness of heaven. Then Solomon chose wisdom, and for this. Since neither human joys nor gloried fame Enticed his heart, the Lord of Heaven decreed These also should be added unto him. So kingly now he sat and ruled the world, 63 While round him rolled the panoply of heaven. White mist and Hoating vapours gossamer In wreaths of cloud majestic ; but his throne Shone with the purple splendour of a dawn In high midsunnner ; for whose canopy Tendrils of creeping plants and languorous flow^'s Wove a cool bow "r u})on the mountain side : Frail honeysuckle and pink eglantine And Posidonian roses drenched with dew, Where all around a radiant galaxy Of youthful forms, glowing with slender grace, Shone like pale stars across a summer night ; And many an ancient sage and warrior scarr''d Stood round their lord in counsel, while above, His merry-throated courtiers of the sky Offered their praise of ceaseless symphony. Then thro' the haze that heralded the splendour Of the triumphant pageant of the sun, Riding in golden glory o'er the earth, Father of life and lord of hearts that kindle With the deep fire of love, there broke to sight. Sudden and awful like a cloud of fear That breaks upon a heedless merriment, A phantom hand whose fingers bore aloft A chalice of cool jasper, wherein flamed Deep lustrous wine as crimson as the lips Of young Adonis ; clearer than the dew. And fragrant as the passion-kindled breath Of youthful lovers kissing like twin flow'rs 64 Tliro'' all a suiiiiuer night ; so sweet it lose Upon the mountain air, till all the throng That smelt its beauty felt their drowsy hearts Wake to such life each pulse was ecstasy : While tender music seemed to (ill their ears Till all their being throbbVl to wondrous love That knew not baseness nor impure desire. Then from the mist an airy voice uprose In song that dazed the echoes with delight ; In tones as softly precious as the shower Of crystal music springing from the lips Of some fresh-throated singing-boy, whose praise Soars to the rafters of a chapel bow'r, In rich unclouded beauty, till the heart Sinks into dreams of rapture ; so the burden Trailed now upon the summer-honey'd air, In accents magical — ' To thee, great King, From the dread Warden of the world I bring This precious cup and still more precious potion Fairer than wine, more mighty than old ocean To work man weal or sorrow ; if in truth Thy heart desireth an eternal youth Of strength and joy and love's soft ravishment. Of supple grace and beauty's blandishment — If thou dost yearn for an immortal Spring, Flowers that fade not, birds that ever sing. Lift this enchanted beaker to thy lips. Sweet is its savour and whoever sips Never shall feel his joyous life decay. But heaven shall crown him with innnortal day, J. 65 Still shall he feel his blood kindle and glow With love's warm dalliance; still his spirits flow In floods of rapturous music at the thrill Of youthful beauty, and his being fill With all the tender yearnings of desire, With all the heat of passion's restless fire ; For tho' the forms he cherish pass away, New loves shall spring like blossoms of the May For each succeeding year; the choice is thine — Drink for thy pleasure and no more repine At thoughts of passing life, and the dark night. Whose shades up-gather that must quench delight, And hide the beauty that thine eyes adore In clouds of darkling sorrow evermore.** So sang the voice and ceased, and sound was still. Then Solomon sighed deeply, for the choice. True love and death, life and the passing light Of fleeting whims, lay heavy at his heart. So sweet the morn ! so dear the leaping tide Of days that sweep life with them to the sea Whence no belated mariner returns To breathe a murmur of the lonely shore In eager ears that mourn for lost delight ! So sweet the pomp, so glorious the power. To rule in splendour over hosts of men That answer to his sway ; and still the doubt — ' True-love may die beyond the bourn of death,' Throbs ever at the portals of his brain. Seeking for entrance, and what then avail The troth and faith of lovers, if the dead 6() Feel not the glow of beauty, nor can hear The precious music of fulfilled desire ? Then took he counsel of the sons of men, And all the mortal children of the earth, That still must die and perish, still must see The lovely hues of beauty pale anon To bloodless age, and passionate limbs decav From strength and grace, to weakness, and the slow Living corruption, mocking in its sadness The ghastly face of death, and the dark tomb. Then spake those hollow servitors whose lips Echo but flattery and ignoble thoughts — That think not of true counsel nor the words Of guileless friendship, but of their own ends. Which they to serve strive ever, yet would seem But offering still the tribute of their love — ' Yea, drink, dear lord,' they cry, ' for not alone Hangeth thy fate upon the solemn choice. Fear for the passing of thv glorious life All nature and all races doth dismay : For who like thee can sway the peopled earth, AVno shall arise to grasp with mighty hand Thy sovVeign sceptre, thy imperial crown ? Nay, drink, dear lord, nor fear the charmed cup, 'Tis but a presage from the eternal God To try thee if thy heart repineth now : If all the care and labour of the world, And loss of friends, and the sore wounds of love, 6'7 5—2 Wrenched from thy sorrowing heart by greedy Death, Can tempt thee to forgo thy furnished power, And reign of His vicegerent upon Earth ; Can draw thy heart away from that high trust Thy God bestoweth ever upon thee, With dreams of quiet and obscure repose, To seek a paradise of idle rest/ Thus said they all, yet had their specious words No power to beguile their wary king ; He saw the cautious mockery of their hearts And double-speeched tongues, and could descry Beneath their open counsel and loud praise, The laughter of their self-encumbered souls. Next spake the preying beasts whose hearts obey Nought but high AVisdom and her master, Love ; No fear they knew of Solomon, for he. Alone of mortal beings, could discern The secrets of their souls ; alone could read The darkness of their passion and their pain. And draw them with love's fetters to himself Out of the mists and perils of that life God had ordained for them; and could soothe Their querulous moods and passionate, fierce breasts To gentleness and trust, and bid dismay Be absent at their coming among men. So calm they came as servants to his best And licked with docile tongues his outstretched hands, To pay their homage to the king of earth, Ready to do his bidding, and obey 68 The teaching's of his mouth, with that shy rev"'rcnce Of turbulent creatures tamed to human pow 'r ; And all the pathos of their lonely })ride. And all the wonder of their glorious strength, Spake to the wistful heart of Solomon. For these were children of the Prince of Heaven, Living to praise him after their desire With all the beauty of their supple limbs And restless woodland grace, and tenderness For their young, helpless offspring : to fulfil Their ordered life ; and tread the paths none fixed But the all-seeing eye and burning breast Alone of that unfathomable Love. Then spake they each to Solomon their king^ — The crested lion in his lowering pride, The tiger with her cunning, pard and bear, And solemn elephant, and wolf and ape, And all the fierce-eyed strangers of the wild. Gave counsel to their Sov^-eign in his hour Of gloom and doubt, and dark perplexity. Yet, for the bonds that drew them were not wrought Of Reason but the braided strands of I^ove, Their speech came from the chambers of the heart That brooks not cession of the thing beloved. And thus they also counselled him to drink Of the distilled enchant)nent, that could yield — If the veird voice spake truth — undying life On the familiar earth ; with all its deeps Of joy, and the cjuick pulse of dear desire, Yearninjj to be fulfilled with love's intent. 69 So spake they, and again the illumined eye Of Solomon, lit with ineffable Clear radiancy of wisdom, viewed their minds. And read the pathos of their simple trust. And fiercer yet the dark enticement came, For now the doubt shot over the still deeps Of reason whether verily the choice Were proffered him of God or that fell power That striveth e'er for man's allegiance. -to' Then lastly called he to him from the depths Of a great forest where the sun's masked fire Slants chastenedly across the lonely glades. His aery agent, Bontimar the dove, Faithful thro' years of quiet confidence, By gentle life proved seemly and sedate To weigh a matter and adjust the scale, And strike a balance between heart and soul : But Bontimar flew sadly to her lord Knowing the truth and gauging in its light The strife of spirit for the victory ; And all the weary combat of the heart 'Twixt present gladness and the uncertain gloom That flits so fitfully o'er the hills of death. And sorrowfully she spake as if in fear J^st all the earthly glamour should prevail Against her single rede, lest at the last The heavenly seed might perish, lest the tares That choked it, for true fruit be garnered in. ' Master,' she softly spake — ' though joy is dear, 70 And for man's life as the clear sparkling wine, Gladding the heart and lifting np the soul From its frail diaphane of petulant flesh, Yet whence doth flow this liquor of delight? From what full-swelling grapes, from what sweet vines, That trellis the fair hills of heart's desire, Do such founts spring ? Love is alone the source Of that deep magic wine of joy, for Love Swelleth beneath the sunny hours of life. Clinging with burning tendrils to that vine Whose leaves are beauty and whose branches gi-ace ; And love, true love, no years can bring again Strong as the bands that bind the heart of youth, \Vhen life is grace, and beauty is desire ; For thou hast known the mantling of the cheek, And all the blissful sorrow that attends The first full rush of love ; the secret speech Eyes teach each other, and the deep content Born of that precious madness of delight When lips of love seek beauty from thy own. Then wish not the dull years of deathless life, While all that made life sweetest must decay And draw beyond the impenetrable shade That masketh pleasure from the eyes of light. Thou hast drunk deeply of the wine of love. Drink not then of this other, but await (Tho' the long years yield sadness, and tho' fear Grippeth the bravest at the touch of doom ) That silent last adventure, that shall bring Thee with thy dearest to the glades of peace, 71 Where joy uiidviiig reigneth evermore.' Thus spake she and grew silent, for }ier tongue Reclc'd nought of eloquence, but spelt alone Her sweet untuned singleness of heart. And Solomon perceived the charity And blessing of his simple counsellor. Who sought not honey'd sentences, but framed Rude words to clothe the naked truths that throng'd Blunt and ill-pleasing thro' her patient soul ; And all the dear illusions vanished That he had sought to bind about his sight, And now again the beams of wisdom shone Scorning the mists of vanity and care For soft inglorious ease and dull content ; And all the love that smouldered in his soul Broke to fierce flame that rankled and consumed The pyre of dark inanity within. Then sorrowfully he spake, as feeling yet The sway of mortal pleasure, tho' his will Bowed as a vassal before Wisdom's throne, ' () Bontimar, thou hast conquered, for my heart Rings with true music that thy words set free. There is for all a fearsome way to tread Thro' the dark distance, where no radiancy Shines on the path we traverse from the known Lost borders of the dear familiar land Whence we set out, nor any beacon light Glows to clear triumph from the land of joy Our spirits yearn to dwell in ; and for this, 72 We clutch at the last strands that bind our life To mortal dwellings, and the sweet caress Of friendly wayfarers whose ears as yet Hear not the heavenly sununons ; yet for truth We snatch at empty phantoms that impede Our passage to the long eternal home : There shall we know the plenitude of love, There taste its perfect rapture, and receive The key that frees the secrets of desire. Take then, O mystic voice, thy answer now. Not for eternal youth and all the pride Of earthly pomp and glory, I forgo The boon of death that maketh ever new The hearts of mortals ; that alone can quench Their burning thirst for beauty and delight In the fresh fount of everlastiuir Love.' 'r> He ceased, and on the sullen air there fell A deep and pregnant veil of quietness : Into the haze the flaming cup withdrew, And the mist trembled into tenuous day. 73 THK SOUTHERN POLE \'ideo nieliora probocjue^ deteriora sequor. (Ovin. ) I \'k clijnes of frozen silence and still deeps ! Ye wastes of voiceless waters armour''d o^er With crystal, for a path from shoi-e to shore ! And you ye snowy steeps ! N'oices of ageless mvsterv and fear Whisper vour secret to the echoing- \\ ind, Moanini; and wailing; as it travels on To realms more smiled on by the blessed sun, To lands that bear the mark of human kind, From ways forlorn and desolation drear. II Thro' the long vigil of the dawnless night. Thro"' the pale twilight of the eveless day. Wardens of solitude ! ye hold vour swav Far from all human sight. Youi- kingdoms of sad silence and pale gloom RuPd by no human powers the years pursue ; Vour subjects are the strange sea-monster"'s brootl, Half fish, half beast, of loathly form endued. And glossy seals with Bkins of silvery hue That make the ice their lair, the sea their tomb. 74 ill What far-off, echoing, syren -voices call ? What soft enchantment do your breezes blow ? What deathly lures, what harbingers of woe Our human hearts enthral ? Doth some live murmur touch our spirits still. Some long-forgotten human memory, From the far ages of man's early birth. When frozen glooms coverd the fruitful earth, While towering ice-bergs sailed our English sea, And the snows thickened upon crag and hill ? IV For still some strange irrefutable spell Draws human footsteps to your dreary shore ! Thro' weary labour and privation sore The lonely hours they tell, Who far away from haunt of human-kind. The loves they cherish and the homes they prize. To that bleak barren world of silence go. Where, for their homeland, lies the eternal snow. For friendly welcome, but the cheerless skies : What guerdon meetly glorious can they find ? /■■J ( ) Wisdom, glorious mistress of the soul ! And of such children doubly justified, For thee they live ; thy glory all their pride, Who to no fruitless goal Press on in spite of hazard and distress, Of numbing peril and of dread alarm, To lay so rich a trophy at thy feet. For thee they face the blinding blizzard's sleet, For thee they seek the laurel and the palm, And toil to feed thy flame thro' weariness. VI And we whose life is wayward, whom shy Hope Never hath lured across the trackless sea, In some great emprise of high chivalry, We who but blindly grope. Till dull Convention's gloom our souls enslave. Shot with no mystic visions of romance ; Who follow the safe track our Fathers wore. Nor feel the thirst to drink dark A\'isdom's lore In some uncharted fairyland of Chance, What guerdon do we carry to the grave .? 76 VII Too often but the nieniory of life Ill-spent, ill-founded ; with no certain goal To tempt with nobler dreams the unstrung soul ; And thoughts of fruitless strife — Of battle with our friends instead of foes For worthless trophies and ill-placed desires, 'Midst cries of pain unheeded and forlorn. And for this heritage our souls were born ? — To cringe and perish in these treacherous fires ? Or win thro' blood and flame our heart's repose ? VIII Yet still. Imperious Goddess, is thy throne Set up on pedestals of fallen men. Who in the long march drop from human ken To find their rest alone : In thy proud service stricken mortally, ' Yet glorying in the battle and the pain ; Willing in such dear emprise to be sped. If so the lamp of Wisdom may be fed. And by their deeds flicker to life again ; Then gladly would they droop to earth and die. 77 IX AikI thus to purge our listless, fever'd way. Comes like a tonic showV the glorious tale (Trulv the springs of Manhood shall not fail While earth breeds such as they !) Of that proud band of heroes and their prize Of aching toil and martyr victory, Of pain endured in silence, till life^s breath Faltered and failed before remorseless Death, Then one by one they laid them down to die And he, their Captain, closed the frozen eyes. Then he too fared on that eternal quest, On man"'s last, great adventurous voyage to go, Far out upon the senseless wastes of snow. Still with the same high zest As e'er had marked his hours of mortal breath ; Fearless, nor sad, for in his soul there shone The steadfast Lamp of Truth, and in its light Bravely he gat him out into the night To face Time's last and fellest Champion, And silence lorded o'er the Camp of Death. 78 XI And what of him, their comrade who alone Marched out to meet that silent Conqueror, If haply by his death he nii<;ht restore Lives loved above his own ? Shall his proud name die with the dying years t () rather shall his praise for ever ring Adown the ages for such Chivalry : While men shall live his memory shall not die, His deed the lips of bards unborn shall sing And that proud fate bewail with mournful tears. XII What went they forth to seek, and what to find The tribute of pure fame for noble deed ? Alas ! a colder token was their meed, Snow-wreaths their temples bind. The praise for worlds new-born to men ? or yet, The knowledge of far lands their feet alone Of human limbs had trod since Time began ? But other feet their luckless steps outran, O'er that drear waste another flag had flown : Yet praise, with heroes, triumphs o'er regret. 79 XIII And yet I know they shall not wholly die, Still in the living memory of Time, Unchanged, undimmed, unchallenged, but sublime Their fame eternally Shall spread from out the fastness of their rest ; Not first nor chiefly of their triumphs won. Of new-found knowledge or their hapless doom. Of deathly perils and the lonely tomb; But rather for heroic service done. Praise of all praise the noblest and the best. XIV \Veep not nor mourn for heroes that are dead, But rather, as Laconian mothers, sing A paean for their glory's heightening ; Their Spirit is not shed. But lives and stirs thro' all our human ways, And shall live ever while the earth may be . A human dwelling place : their lustrous fame Time shall not pale. The splendour of their name Thrills round the glorious earth from sea to sea In one loud concert of triumphant praise. CAMBRIDGE; PRINTED BY J. B. PEACE, M.A., AT THE UNIVEB8ITT PRESS, DATE DUE UCH M/J° ^ * *»'^ MAR 2^ " • V UAO M978S CAVLORO rRINTEOIN US A. 3 1210 00071 0119 ^nn IK siilltHIHNRrrjOIJAl 1 IBRARYrACILITY AA 000 604 400 2