Poems
Waddington, Samuel, 1844-1923
6 ^ = z / = ^s ^;— i^ >> 4 = ^^SS -< 0 3 5 1 1 — 8 = ishhb THE LIBRARY OF THE OF LOS UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA ANGELES i J I" A . :;■ ") \ dr * \ -2 ^(LJls^yy^ nvtC $.{ ^A — w ^^ L^c^ u i ^^ W-- C l^ POEMS y BY THE SAME AUTHOR. SONNETS AND OTHER VERSE. Fcap. 8vo. 35. 6^. ' ' That these poems are above, it would not be too much to say far above, the average of the verse of the day, is evident enough." — Spectator. "The workmanship of the sonnets is scholarly and delicate, and they express the graver and wiser thought of the age." — IVestminster Review. A CENTURY OF SONNETS. Fcap. 4to. /^s. 6d. " Both as a writer of sonnets and an authority on the subject, Mr. Waddington has done good work. The present volume is worthy of his reputation as a scholar and a poet." — Saturday Review. "Some of the nature sonnets are exceedingly lovely." — Manchester Examiner (J. Ashcroft Noble). " All the sonnets are good in thought and expression, and some are beautiful." — Atlieiiaitvi. POEMS BY SAMUEL WADDINGTON 'Laborum dulce lenimen.'— Hor. LONDON GEORGE BELL AND SONS 1896 CHISWICK I'RESS:— CHARLES WHITTINGHAM AND CO. TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY I.ANE, LONDON. TO MY SISTER 2UL*0ula iaiatitiinffton AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED NOTE Some of the poems in this volume have ah'eady appeared in the ' Athenteum,' 'Academy,' 'Westminster Gazette,' Mr. Miles's ' Poets and Poetry of the Century,' Mr. Gleeson White's ' Ballades and Rondeaus,' Professor Raymond's ' Genesis of Art-Form,' ' Belgravia,' ' The Magazine of Poetry' (Buffalo, U.S.A.), and other periodicals. None of them were included in either of the author's two previous volumes, ' Sonnets and Other Verse,' and ' A Century of Sonnets.' It had been suggested that the poem 'Moira' (page 2)7)i might with advantage be entitled ' Fate ' or ' Nemesis,' but as the Necessitarianism depicted is mainly such as affirms that a Lily may not become a Rose though both are ' things of Beauty,' and that their roots are in Eternity, it has been thought advisable to retain the present title. At page 82 will be found a translation of the earliest sonnet that has come down to us. It was composed by Lodovico della Vernaccia about 700 years ago. 47, connaught street, Hyde Pakk, W. October, 1896. CONTENTS PAGE To Pyrrho i Giuseppina 2 "The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled," — 3 Madrigal 4 Calabria 6 "And vvouldst thou still more beauteous be," — ... 9 Beata Beatrix 10 In Memoriam (J. A. N.) 12 The Catacomb of St. Callixtus 13 Nemi 15 Mors et Vita 19 Baden-Baden 20 Sister Ursula 22 Napoli 27 The Infinite 30 X CONTENTS PAGE Vespertilio Murinus 32 Moira 37 The Lost Cipher 46 " If thou wert true as thou art fair," — 48 " O bhthe the day,"— 50 Lines written by Rydal Water 52 The Triumph of Life 53 The City of God 58 To Victory 62 The Church at Ferney 68 The Mawddach 70 La Fontaine d' Amour y}, " Love comes no more, or rarely comes," — .... yZ Song of the Sirens 81 Sonnet by Lodovico della Vernaccia ....... 82 The Road to Macugnaga 84 Kriiger 93 Stanzas composed at Voiron 95 " Fairer than the fields of Enna," — 99 Omnia Somnia 101 Sonnet by Raphael 103 CONTENTS ' PAGE Man 105 The Pedlars ' Apologia ' 106 The Paradise of Song . . , . no Epigrams and Versicles : 1. The Foundations of Belief 115 2. Dii ir5 3. The Human Mind 118 4. Man's Immortality , . 119 5. Giotto's Tower . 120 6. The Light from the Milky Way 121 7. Eternity 123 THE LAND OF DREAM To Pyrrho WOULDST thou, Pyrrho, hnger where Lotus-blossom scents the air ; Wouldst thou thro' weird forests wander Where the frohc fairies dwell, And the mazy streams meander Round the beds of asphodel ; Wouldst thou soar to realms above, Worlds of rapture, orbs of love ; Or, still fairer to thy mind, Wouldst thou Truth's hid temple find ; — Then, dear Pyrrho, as we deem, Thou must seek the Land of Dream. B GIUSEPPINA Her spirit breathes love's affluence, — Her eyes, no heart may doubt, Are windows in God's heaven whence An angel looketh out. NOBIALLO, 1896. "THE SPRING COMES SOFTLY FROM THE SOUTH BEGUILED" The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled, Bearing a garland for my Love to wear ; Laughing he cometh Hke a little child That joys to find a world so passing fair : With heather-bells and kingcups everywhere, And honeysuckle clusters, — he hath piled The sweet thyme budding on the mountains bare, The fragrant meadow-blossom undefiled. And I go singing on the uplands wild, So blithely singing in the morning air, — The Spring comes softly from the South beguiled, Bearing a garland for my Love to wear. MADRIGAL "Zi? citth son netnichc, amid i boschi A^ jniei pensier." Petrarca. Come, to the woods, love, let us go, And through the forest glide ; There brackens grow and wild-flowers blow And singing birds abide : There happy are the hearts that love ; And happy, love, are we. While there we sing our songs in spring Beneath the greenwood tree. With hey, my love ! and ho, my love ! My love she is so boimie. MADRIGAL II There is a nook by BeauHeu brook, An ivy-cinctured bower, Where we can dwell in forest dell, And pluck the budding flower ; For happy are the hearts that love, And happy, love, are we. While still we sing our songs in spring Beneath the g;reenwood tree. t>' Wi^/i /ley, my love ! and ho, my love I My love she is so bonnie. CALABRIA A SYLVAN bower for love's embrace, Where wild-flower blossoms grew unbidden, It was our secret trysting-place Behind the elms and orchard hidden : There meadow-saffron bloomed as fair As e'er Cosenza knew of yore ; Strayed mignonette made sweet the air As myrtle the Calabrian shore ; And still the name we gave it bore Far glimpses of that southern clime CALABRIA Whence Maro fled to come no more, Where Ennius built his rugged rhyme : — Yet fare thee well, O leafy dell ; Farewell, our loved Calabria ! II O that mine eyes might view again That vanished bower, and haply so Might see thee as I saw thee then, My own sweet love of long ago. When still the stars shone bright above. And Life, our faery-land of bliss. Seemed made for us, and us for Love, And Love for one eternal kiss ; But now our lives have grown amiss. And thou art far beyond the sea, 8 CALABRIA I know not where, I know but this, How dear thy memory is to me : — Then fare thee well, O leafy dell ! O fare thee well, Calabria ! AND WOULDST THOU STILL MORE BEAUTEOUS BE" And wouldst thou still more beauteous be, O maiden, steeped in lethargy ? Throw wide the windows of thy soul ; Life and the light shall make thee whole. And wouldst thou still more joyous be, O maiden, 'mid thy reverie ? Let not the gay world thee cajole ; Let Nature now thy heart control. Yet if more honoured thou wouldst be, O maiden, in thy modesty. Recall the outcast to thy side ; And to the dark depths sink thy pride. BEATA BEATRIX " Ella ha perduta la sua Beatrice : E le parole ch'uom di lei puo dire Hanno virtu di far piangere altrui." Viia Nuova. And was it thine, the h'ght whose radiance shed Love's halo round the gloom of Dante's brow ? Was thine the hand that touched his hand, and thou The spirit to his inmost spirit wed ? O gentle, O most pure, what shall be said In praise of thee to whom Love's minstrels bow ? O heart that held his heart, for ever now Thou with his glory shalt be garlanded. BEATA BEATRIX II Lo, 'mid the twilight of the waning years, Firenze claims once more our love, our tears : But thou, triumphant on the throne of song, — By Mary seated in the realm above, — O give us of that gift than death more strong, The loving spirit that won Dante's love. IN MEMORIAM. J. A. N. O WINDS that wail around death's barren shore, Be hushed no more : O weep, ye clouds, and let your tears be shed, For he lies dead ; The truest, noblest, and the best, Life's fairest guest. Now grows the upward path more lone and dim. Bereft of him ; While still we linger with our grief opprest, Where he finds rest, — Here where the wind-blown grasses wave, Here by his grave. THE CATACOMB OF ST. CALLIXTUS By the VIx\ Appia Beside the Dead we discourse held, And laughed nor deemed it wrong ; He was a Monk, a godly man, — And I a Child of Song. Before that morn we had not met, Yet straightway be it told. There 'mid the Tombs it seemed to me We had been friends of old. For spirit unto spirit leapt, And heart went forth to heart ; 14 THE CATACOMB OF ST. CALLIXTUS With many a sad ' farewell ' at last We parted loth to part. O wondrous brotherhood of Man ! Our sires — 'tis surely so — Were members of one family A myriad years ago. Rome, 1892. NEMI " Nemij imbedded in wood, Nemi, inurned in the hill." Clough. I From lone Castello's torrid shore, Here, Nemi, to thy shrine. Where Thyrsis wandering came of yore, I come to make thee mine : With myrtle sweet and eglantine, O lake, beloved for evermore, Take thou my soul, and yield me thine. II Spirit of Beauty ! is it here. Secluded and alone i6 NEMI Thou dwellest by these waters clear, These Alban hills thy throne ? Here still, unwitnessed and unknown, To thee we kneel, and thee revere, And thine all-hallowing presence own. Ill What tho' mute Silence brood around, Tho' every voice be still, Tho' Dian's horn and steeds resound No more along the hill. Yet harmonies unheard fulfil The hearts that muse on holy ground. And rhythmic tongues with rapture thrill. IV Earth's flowery lap thy body is, And loveliness thy soul. NEMI 17 O beauteous scene, whose tender kiss Can make the wounded whole ; ■ Now closer to thy mystic goal We come, and coming, crave but this, ' Do thou the weary heart console ! ' V Nay, closer now ! nay, closer yet ! Would my soul cleave to thine ; Here by thy mantling beauty met. Transfigured, made divine ; — Here as of old in Palestine Love is the true heart's amulet, ^ And joy of love the sacred sign. VI But hark, O hark, the choirs unseen ! They rise on airy wing ; C ]8 NEMI O Nemi, round thy borders green Their joyous pseans ring ; ' Spirit of Beauty ! ' thus they sing, ' Thou art, and thou hast ever been, Of life and love the living spring.' ^ VII Back to Albano, back to Rome, We go, but still with thee, O lake, of love-lit dreams the home. Our thoughts, our heart shall be ; And still, far off, we yet shall see Beneath the Night's star-spangled dome Thy grove-encircled sanctuary. Rome, 1892. MORS ET VITA We know not yet what life shall be. What shore beyond earth's shore be set ; What grief awaits us, or what glee. We know not yet. Still, somewhere in sweet converse met, Old friends, we say, beyond death's sea Shall meet and greet us, nor forget Those days of yore, those years when we Were loved and true, — but will death let Our eyes the longed-for vision see ? We know not yet. BADEN-BADEN "... fiso, u si mostri, attendi, L'erba piu verde, e I'aria piu serena." Petrarca. Syringa and wild-roses, Beneath a sapphire sky ! Here, dearest, Life reposes, We'll let the Hours slip by ; What tho' the light discloses Grey threads amid our hair, Syringa and wild-roses, And Thou, my Love, art fair. As in the woods of Arden Once dwelt the balm of peace, BADEN-BADEN 21 And they who sought for pardon There found their sorrows cease ; So in this forest-garden, Here with the pines alone, Now Peace shall be our warden. And Strife a world unknown. Here breathes the holy Spirit Of Love in bud and flower, And they who wander near it. Shall they not share its dower ? Here we too may inherit Of life the holier part — Love, thine be all the merit, And thine the Sacred Heart. Baden-Baden, 1895. SISTER URSULA A Silhouette " Thou that dwellest in the gardens." Canticles^ viii. 13. This is her garden, this the place, Sechided and serene. Where phlox and pansy love to grace The dreamland of their queen ; A sunny solitude makes fair The precincts of this trim parterre. Like mystic scroll illumed and wrought With leaf and flowered device, With loving care it breathes the thought Of holiest sacrifice : — SISTER URSULA And still above from morn till night Here Heaven always is in sight. This pathway as some minster aisle, From noxious weeds set free, Seems holy ground, and here awhile Ofttimes, methinks, I see A figure past the privet glide When comes the dusk at eventide. No Pascal, no Spinoza treads This walk, or stands to view The many-coloured tulip-beds, — The blooms of varied hue ; No Plato rapt as in a dream Strays hither from the Academe : 24 SISTER URSULA Yet haply somewhat of all three, Some kinship of the mind, Inspires the spirit that we see ; And, dimly here divined. The higher, the ideal life Is fenced from sin, is freed from strife. The stars gleam softly overhead. The sky is bright and clear, — Infinity around is spread. Eternity is here ; And by this leaf-encircled seat Each morn the Past and Future meet. The Past that from far distance brings The Present as his gift, — SISTER URSULA 25 The Future that full swiftly flings It down the stream adrift ; While loud upon yon elder-tree The blackbird chants his minstrelsy. But when the Sun scales heaven's height, With noontide fancies fraught, Here rests within the spirit's sight Life budding into Thought, — The wondrous mystery of Mind, Unsolved, unfathomed, undefined ! These jonquils shed a perfume rare, — Whence comes it, — who can tell ? And Thought, the blossom that we bear. Life's fairest asphodel, =6 SISTER URSULA Breathes it the incense of the heart That still shall live tho' Life depart ? * * * But stay, our purpose we forget, — The portrait that we planned, — 'Tis but an old-world silhouette, And few may understand How in these verses they may trace The profile of the pictured face. So be it, — yet the gardener knows Each symbol passing well, The musk, the lily, and the rose. And ever loves to dwell Where ' bleeding-heart ' and ' London-pride ' Here bloom together side by side. NAPOLI (Vedi Napoli e poi mori.) " Metropolis of a ruined Paradise." Shelley. O Napoli, methinks thou art A traitor with a treacherous heart ; Or Siren, singing by the sea, To lure men from true liberty ; A shameless mermaid-courtesan, To waylay, cozen, and trepan ; And cruel thou hast cheated me, O Napoli, O Napoli ! II By Virgil's tomb — thrice-happy fate ! A week, or more, I lived elate ; 28 NAPOLI It stands, the house where we did stay, (Palazzo named Torlonia,) Where the Chiaja hath its end. And Margellina takes a bend, — By Maro's bones 'twas grand to be, By Maro's tomb, O Napoli ! Ill Each morn the Mantuan might have heard Our song, forsooth, as word by word, * Virumque cano ' and the rest, I sang with true poetic zest : Where Petrarch, where Boccaccio, Had worshipped at PosiHpo, I dwelt, and there 'twas good to be — Was it not good, O Napoli ! IV Wise Falcioni was mine host, NAPOLI 29 And kinder soul can no man boast ; He roundly laughed, then shook his head ; Then laughed again, and, pointing, said, ' There, there is Virgil's tomb, but there The bones of Virgil never were ! ' It was a sham, — mere roguery To bring thee trade, O Napoli ! V 'Tis said, ' See Naples, and then die ! ' See Naples, and there learn to lie — Perchance, were wiser, and more true To Nature that here winks at you : O wily, wanton, Siren fair ! To sing thy praise we will not dare ; We will not sigh nor die for thee, O Napoli, O Napoli ! THE INFINITE I Far off, and very far ! Beyond the crystal sea ; Beyond the worlds that are Unknown, or known to be ; Beyond the pearly star ; The clustering nebulae ; Beyond dark gulphs we see Where rolls no glittering car — At last, at last, we come to thee, The finite to Infinity ! THE INFINITE 31 II Ere yet, and evermore ! Before the day's delight ; Before the dawn, before Apollo in his might Sped forth by sea and shore ; And after many a night, When all the Hours take flight, Forth issuing from death's door — Behold, behold, in death's despite Eternal looms the Infinite ! DOLGELLY, 1893. THE BAT Vespertilio Murinus Sleek, faery creature, Strange freak of Nature That through the TwiHght comes and goes, Could we the mystery Of thy Hfe's history Resolve, and learn what no man knows, From what dim forces, What hidden sources, Thy winged soul sprang into being, THE BAT 33 Then might we clearly Divine more nearly The World that lies beyond our seeing, II Quaint, mimic angel ! Thy new evangel Disclose, and share it now with me, While through the gloaming Thus lightly roaming, Thou flittest round this old oak tree ; Tell me what Ages, What Cosmic stages, Evolved thy Spirit in the Past ; The far stars glisten, — Speak, for I listen ; Teach me the Wisdom that thou hast. D 34 THE BAT III Nay, spectral flitter, Where glowworms glitter, Thou art more silent than the Sphinx ; Thro' eras ended Thou hast descended Down from the sphere of ' missing links,'- Like pterodactyl Thy race runs back till The distance foils our dazed sight, To prehistoric, Rude, allegoric. Brute offspring of the Infinite. IV The Past hath vanished. From memory banished, THE BAT 35 What of the Future canst thou tell ? In words aesthetic, Sage and prophetic, Our doubting and our fears dispel ; When life is over Shall Darkness cover Thy twilight wanderings with the Night, — Or from Death's portal Wilt thou immortal Speed forth into the realm of light ? V Mute, mystic rover ! Could we discover Thy wisdom though thou answer'st not, There is no human. Or man or woman, 36 THE BAT But hath the knowledge thou hast got ; We know we know not ! The gods bestow not On thee a wider, clearer view ; — Thou art surrounded, On all sides bounded, By thine own ignorance, — adieu ! MOIRA Who most is Fortune's fool ? The man That eager strives yet never can Increase his stature half a span ? Or he, the Mussulman, that sleeps, — Saith, " God in heaven this watch keeps ; Our pilot, Allah, Lord and King, Safe to the port our bark shall bring ; 'Tis Providence that shapes our ends, And who shall slay while Fate befriends ! " Behold, each man before his birth. Of great or haply little worth, 38 MOIRA Hath all his gifts, — a giant he, Or doomed a mere dwarf-soul to be ! Nay, be he great or good or bad. He shall not to his talents add, Or mould a brain replete with wit If Nature hath not furnished it. See yonder babe, 'tis but the last Fresh output of the Ages past ; And 'tis no fable that each man Existed ere Man's race began. 'Tis writ on Moira's oriflamme, " Before Jehovah was I am ! " 'Tis writ on Nature's banner too, " Eternity hath fashioned you ! " And Moira, Moira, what is she But Nature and the laws that be, MOIRA 39 Immutable Necessity ! Go, travel thou thro' space afar To Sirius, or that furthest star Thy Fancy, not thy feet, may reach ; There from its ancient, time-worn beach Look back, behold, if Mortal can, This earth, this planet-home of Man : Thou seest, — no, thou canst not see So small a speck there lost to thee 'Mid space that mocks Infinity. This mighty world, it is so small Thou canst not see this earth at all From Sirius, or that distant star Where splendid rolls Orion's car. 40 MOIRA And yet these orbs that nightly shine, These myriad worlds that gleam afar, Have helped to shape this Will of thine, This automatic toy that plays Weird music for ten-thousand days ; Thou canst not wish, or will, or act. Or lift thy finger, or contract A limb or muscle, but in thee, Part of the cosmic unity. The link'd cogwheels at work we see Of all that is, or e'er hath been. Of all the worlds seen or unseen, The forces of the Universe. But 'mid the waves of Time immerse Thy thoughts awhile. Thro' days remote MOIRA 41 From age to age let Fancy float, Wayfaring in a faery boat Down forest rivers to that sea That hath no shore, Eternity. — Ten milHon years ago to-day, Awhile we'll anchor in this bay ; Beneath these trees whose branches meet And yield us shelter from the heat. The world by some divine decree Remains unaltered, — as you see. These trees are green as those we knew. And as of yore the skies are blue ! Beneath the sun is nothing new In substance, tho' in shape perchance Some change accrues from circumstance, — Some lapse of form, some permutation, 42 MOIRA Or new life from fresh combination. Yet long ere round its parent sun This earth, our planet, had begun As foal around its dam to run, — Long ere this orb began to be. Vast aeons of Eternity A myriad earths and orbs had seen, A myriad worlds that once had been The homes of mortals, beasts, and birds ; Of shepherds with their flocks and herds ; Of priests and pedlars — haply, too. Trim statesmen, men of many words To hide their meaning from our view. Immortal souls these mortals had. And creeds, perchance, almost as mad As those men cherish to this hour MOIRA 43 To feed their pride, and give them power On outstretched wing to upward fly And reach their castles in the sky. 'Mid tropic forests vast and dim Thou shalt not find the Seraphim, But mailed serpents mayst thou see Coiled near the shady mango-tree : There by the marge of some lone swamp Where orchids bloom and all the pomp Of painted plumage gleams around, The Cherubim are never found ; But born of Nature's changeless laws, With hungry, ravenous, cruel jaws. The alligator waits his prey, — And while the merry children play 44 MOIRA A budding life is snatched away. Do gods then give the crocodile Angelic food ? Nay, list awhile ; All mortals Nature doth impel, But Moira rules the gods as well ! The gods are Justice, Power, and Love, Yet over these, see, throned above. Reigns Moira, stern Necessity Abiding in all things that be. Eternal and immutable ! Man strives to guide, and doeth well, His bark upon the stream of life. But, ah ! the floods despite his strife Bear him he knows not whence or whither ; MOIRA 45 Where the dim Future leads him, thither He goes, and Moira points the way ; To what, who knoweth, or can say ! All things for ever onward wend. From no Beginning to no End. THE LOST CIPHER The Night her occult manuscript Unrolls along the sky, And with her mystic words equipt The racing winds rush by ; They bear her message, — what is it ? Go, ask the winds what she hath writ. The radiant Morn once more returns, Once more the golden Dawn Illumes the scroll each eye discerns On meadow-land and lawn ; Each flower a word dropt from above,- What is the message, — is it Love ? THE LOST CIPHER 47 Yet shalt thou see ere sets the day And all its splendours pass, The hawk descending on its prey, The adder in the grass ; Far off the thunder muttereth, — What is the message, — is it Death ? O Spirit of the Universe, That hath been and shall be. Here still thy riddle we rehearse Yet cannot find the key ; Lost is the cipher that we need Who fain thy manuscript would read. "IF THOU WERT TRUE AS THOU ART FAIR" If thou wert true as thou art fair, Love should for thee thy burden bear ; No service would his heart disdain, Or deem it idle, or in vain : But fare thee well ! Too fair art thou ; So fare thee well for ever now. If thou wert mine, and mine alone. Then shouldst thou reign upon love's throne ; But other hands may thine caress, And other lips those lips may press. So fare thee well ! Unfair art thou, — Go, fare thee well for ever now. "IF THOU WERT TRUE AS THOU ART FAIR" 49 If thou, a goddess, wert divine. Should all men worship at thy shrine ? Nay, prithee, think ! — is there not one Who from thine altar would pass on, With, " Fare thee well ! Mere fairy thou, — Nay, fare thee well for ever now " ? Yet tell me, thou, my own, my queen, Art true as thou hast ever been, — And I thy servant still shall be ; Nor, doubting, sing this song to thee Of " Fare thee well,"— but " Fair art thou," And " With me fare for ever now." E "O BLITHE THE DAY, © BLITHE THE NIGHT" I O BLITHE the day, O blithe the night, And down the dale the fairies flit. For earth is young, and skies are bright. And life is full of fair delight While Love is still the lord of it ! II O hail the dawn, the happy morn. And happy hours the fates permit. Now every home spring-flowers adorn, And never a heart is found forlorn While Love is still the lord of it ! "O BLITHE THE DAY, O BLITHE THE NIGHT" 51 III Then, shepherd, sing ! O shepherd, bring Thy pastoral pipe, as is most fit ; Fair maids, around your roses fling ; — For life is still a holy thing, And Love is still the lord of it. LINES WRITTEN BY RYDAL WATER Worship was a holy Maid, Faith a Refuge in the shade ; Gossips tell me both are gone — Tell me, Love, dost tJioii live on ? Then for wedded Heart and Head Thou shalt make the marriage-bed ; Wisdom as his Bride shall take Pity for the hearts that ache ! Lo, the children she shall bear. Shall Love's garland ever wear ; Holy children shall they be. Honor ^ Joy\ and Charity. THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE " And long before the day Was old, the joy which waked like heaven's glance The sleepers itt the oblivious valley, died; And some grew weary of the ghastly dance ^ . . . Then,' What is life?' I cried:' Shelley. I Who saith that Joy hath passed away, Life's glory hath departed ? Not they who own Love's holy sway, The true, the steadfast-hearted ; Then, Soul, take wing ! Arise and sing, And crown Life with thy roundelay. II Where lightly trips amid the hills The brown-limbed village maiden. 54 THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE Life still for her with Pleasure thrills, — And still with Music laden, Far down the steep Glad waters leap To greet the golden daffodils. Ill The meadows bathed in matin dew Are clothed with gay apparel ; While high in Heaven, hid from view, The lark trills out his carol ; Then upward soar, O Heart, once more Thy praises and thy song renew. IV In Arcady, when flushed the dawn. Blithe shepherds to Apollo THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE 55 Their paeans sang from grassy lawn, Green bank, and sheltered hollow, — That with the Spring He back might bring Their Loves more gentle than the fawn. V Was it not his what time the light Erst brooded o'er Earth's bosom, — And his the gift when Love's new might Crowned Life with bud and blossom ? Thrice-gracious boon. Though heaven's high noon With dazzling splendour daze our sight. VI In gardens of the purple Sea, 'Neath Ocean's rocky bower. 56 THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE 'Mid groves where trailing seaweeds be, More fair than any flower, Life sprang to birth, Then o'er the earth Thro' vale and upland fain would flee. VII And lo, in every mossy dell Life's children now are dwelling ; Brief tenants they, yet who shall tell, All mystery dispelling, What hope, what aim, What upward flame, Stirs every heart with ceaseless spell. VIII The Swallow wheeling thro' the air. Borne on the wings of rapture, — THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE 57 The Bat that haunts some ruin bare, Winged fairy fearing capture, — These have delight, And day or night Each heart its wreath of joy must wear. IX Then who shall grieve, or who shall say Life's glory hath departed ? Nay, sigh no more Death's well-a-way. But be ye still blithe-hearted ; — Each grassy lawn At golden dawn With love shall greet your roundelay. THE CITY OF GOD Come hither, nor wander, — but whither Shall they go who would find the abode ? Many ages men journey together Still seeking the City of God. Come hither, nor wander, O Spirit Of Man, in the maze of thy mind ; What solace, what joy, or what merit, Shouldst thou in such wandering find ? Come hither, but whither ? — nay, truly Many prophets have told us the way, THE CITY OF GOD 59 Yet the cities we found were but newly- Built dwellings of stucco and clay. " Come hither, O Spirit, come hither ! " Shrieked teachers of blasphemous din ; " Come hither, ye sinners ! " — and thither Went Folly, and Sorrow, and Sin. " Come hither," cried Calvin, " Hell waits you Predestined to torture and pain Everlasting ; God made you. He hates you : — Good deeds shall ye do but in vain ! " " Come hither," Rome thundered, " come hither, To the marvels of Orient birth. To prodigies, miracles," — thither Fled a maniac-tenanted earth. 6o THE CITY OF GOD And ever they hasten, and ever, With the eager impetuous roar Of a torrent-fed mountain-girt river, They rush to their shrines and adore. But the Desert still widens around them ; And the Mirage that led them is gone ; And their numberless teachers confound them With dogmas of brass and of stone ; Till they cry, " Is it vain, our endeavour To find out the sacred abode ? Is it vain ? — then in vain, yet for ever, We will seek for the City of God ! " " Full wisely and well was it spoken, — ' Who seeketh he truly shall find ; ' THE CITY OF GOD 6l And the hope in our hearts is the token Of the peace in God's city enshrined." ***** O Vista of infinite Beauty ! Lo, our feet with new rapture are shod ; See, there is the Pathway of Duty, And it leads to the City of God. TO VICTORY! (A Marching Song for the New Year.) " / set the trumpet to my lips and blow." — Swinburne. I Come ye, come soldiers brave and true, Fall in, and step together ! Your flags unfurl — the bugles call — Come strong-souled warriors one and all ; The foemen linger round the wall, Yet still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! TO VICTORY 63 II The far hills glisten with the dawn ; Fall in, and step together ! The clouds dispart, they pass away ; O'er hearts long watching for the day Now Knowledge sheds a clearer ray. And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! Ill Ye priests and prophets famed of yore. Fall in, and step together ! The hour of Discord now hath fled ; Soon faiths unfaithful shall lie dead ; The Light is dawning overhead, And still our song shall be, — 64 TO VICTORY To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! IV To meadows rosy with the morn, — Fall in, and step together ! To happier homes with eager heart We march, — we take the Toiler's part ; The Commonweal shall be our chart. And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! V Ye statesmen, ye of factious strife, Fall in, and step together ! Relieve the accidents of fate ; Toil for no Party, but the State ; TO VICTORY 6s For selfish aims your zeal abate ; Then still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! VI Where children pine and children weep. Fall in, and step together ! Arise, O stalwart souls, and bring Peace to the spirits sorrowing ; Then shall your children's children sing, And this their song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! VII O mourners, now the night is past. Fall in, and step together ! Let every man his Duty do ; F 66 TO VICTORY To all and to himself be True ; Soon shall ye reap what is your due, And still your song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! VIII The New World crieth to the Old, Fall in, and step together ! Ere bloody Anarchs raging come, Ere mad Despair invade your home. Let Christ reconquer Christendom ; Then still your song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! IX O Love reborn, O Life renewed, Fall in, and step together ! TO VICTORY 67 With sprays of Mercy ever twined, Let Justice in life's garland bind Peace and goodwill to all mankind ! And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together 1 X Then come, ye soldiers brave and true, Fall in, and step together ! Your flags unfurl — the bugles call — Come, warriors, come — for one and all Now Right with Might we will install, And still our song shall be, — To victory ! O victory ! We march, — we march together ! THE CHURCH AT FERNEY 'Deo erexit Voltaire' ' Deo Voltaire ! ' — Thus yesterday we read The bold inscription o'er the doorway writ ; No pert device of philosophic wit, It through the ages speaks from overhead, A messenger of love with wisdom wed, — Of grief for human grieving as is fit : Truly, methinks, no smile lurked under it ; Ah, now we smile no more, Voltaire is dead ! No cynic savant to the God Unknown Here reared this temple by his palace-gate ; THE CHURCH AT FERNEY 69 No prelate, faithful to one faith alone, Built this, God's witness of his high estate ; But Love, Love whispered to his friends, the Poor, — " I too would honour Him whom ye adore." Geneva, 1895. THE MAWDDACH I Sun-kissed sands, Where the sea-gull lands And alien birds from the Forest meet ; Where, as bright As the Rainbow's light, Kingfishers flash thro' the noontide heat,- Sylvan shore ! As in years of yore We seek the calm of thy still retreat. II Where but here Should the Hours appear THE MAWDDACH 71 Thus blithely clad with the robe of Song ; Where more fair In the sunlit air, And pure as winds that the pine-woods throng, Dawns the sight Of our love's delight, With all the joys that to Life belong ? Ill Rich as gold That the mines unfold In those lone heights that around thee rise, Nature, true To the Hearts that woo, Here yields her bliss to enchanted eyes, — Whispering, " Mine Is this land, and thine. And ne'er shalt thou its rare grace despise." 72 THE MAWDDACH IV Naiads sleep On thy glassy deep, And Night reveals what the Day hath hid, — Circling arms, And a feast that charms With dreams of Love thy green banks amid ; Yet, fair Scene, That our joy hast been. Farewell to thee, and thy woods we bid. DOLGELLY, 1893. LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR I Far off in a glen of the mountain, Engirdled by forests of pine, Was, they whispered, the legended fountain, Love's mystical fountain and shrine ; There the Angels descended at even To list to the Nightingale's song, And they left there the guerdon of Heaven, The gift of a love that is strong. II Then I said, " I will go and behold it. This sacred sweet fountain of love ! Tho' I know not the dark groves that fold it, 74 LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR The leafy green haunts of the dove ; Tho' I know not the mazy recesses, And glades where the Dryads recline, — Where the forest bends down and caresses, I will kneel at this leaf-hidden shrine." Ill So I rose, and passed forth from the city. Through the granite-built gate of the town ; Nor heeded the dread of banditti. Nor the surly priest's darkening frown ; But on, and still on, never resting By roadside, or river, or dell, I sped like an arrow, attesting The might of Love's magical spell. IV Away, and away, in the gladness And glamour of youth and delight, LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR 7S I fled past the pilgrims in sadness Returning to rest for the Night ; But diverging the road soon divided, And left me in doubt on the way ; And an echoing torrent derided My spirit that brooked not delay. V There the Swallows above the blue water Were darting, and down on the lea While tending her young lambs the daughter Of a yeoman stood gazing at me ; And I thought, " Surely, born on this mountain Yon gentle, fair Maiden will know The path that leads up to the Fountain Of Love, and the way I should go." VI Then I asked her, but blushing and sighing, 76 LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR And cooing more soft than the dove, She modestly whispered, replying That her heart was the Fountain of Love ; Yet I doubted, and doubting departed From that simple, sweet, innocent maid ; Thro' the forest I rushed eager-hearted, Nor conquered, nor wholly dismayed. VII Was it days, was it weeks that I wandered, — Or, in sooth, many months, many years, 'Mid those mazy recesses meandered. Oft mingling my rapture with tears But never the Fountain, ah, never That pure lucid spring could I see ; And with sorrow I thought that for ever That fount might be hidden from me. VIII When lo, in the Twilight at even, — LA FONTAINE D'AMOUR TJ Alone, far away from the world, — Where the Angels descended from Heaven As the shadows of Night were unfurled, Lo, there stood the Fountain before me, And fainting my heart was undone, But the spirit of gladness upbore me, And the sense of a victory won. IX Yet where were the lovers ? No maiden With her wooer was there to be seen, — No Phoebus, no Phryne love-laden, No Cypris of old that had been ; But there by the brink of the fountain. The Fountain of Love undefiled. Alone there with God on the mountain A Mother lay clasping her Child. "LOVE COMES NO MORE, OR RARELY COMES" Love comes no more, or rarely comes Again to his deserted homes ; To hearts that once have loved, and yet Must now remember to forget. So thought I as but yesterday I passed out with Louise to play Upon the lawn at battledore ; Yet " love is love for evermore ! " Our game soon ended, 'neath the limes We sat and talked of olden times : — "LOVE COMES NO MORE, OR RARELY COMES " 79 " Two years ago ! 'Tis long," she said, " Since last we met : we thought you dead ! " A sadness as of discontent Was in her loving speech, that lent Enchantment to the linden-trees ; I spoke her name, I said — " Louise, " When last we met, too young, 'tis true, Was my heart's love for love of you ; Will you forgive if I avow You loved me then, I love you now ? " She turned, a smile was on her face ; She turned but for a moment's space ; Yet ere her hand in mine she'd lay, Her downward glances seemed to say, So "LOVE COMES NO MORE, OR RARELY COMES" " At battledore too long we've play'd, Now you, now I — yet I'm afraid : Will you be true if I too vow I loved you then, I — love you now ? " THE SONG OF THE SIRENS To One Departing Whither, O whither, ere yet the stars wane. Love, art thou going ? Nay, with us remain : — Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! See, unto thee we stretch hands ever fain ; List, for to thee we sing chanting one strain, — Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! Fondly we plead to thee, pleading in vain, Lord of our limbs and lips, pleasure and pain, Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! Where on this sandy beach long we have lain. Ere the night hideth us, hiding disdain, Come back, beloved ! Love, come back again ! G THE FOES AT HOME By Lodovico della Vernaccia. — a.d, 1200 If ye, O Citizens, the honoured theme Of our high purpose will now hold in view, Your comment on the text, is it not true. Will surely be that we as children seem ! Yet, if awhile ye do not idle deem Our strifes intestine to revolve anew, Methinks your heads ye'll bow with reverence due, Nor lightly all our thorny griefs esteem. THE FOES AT HOME 83 What though now chastened be each foreign foe — His onset routed and his blood outpoured — Not therefore must the sword be laid aside, But 'gainst our foes at home must deal the blow, And in their traitorous blood once more be dyed : For only great and terrible is the sword ! THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA Val Anzasca ' To matins come ! To matins come ! * Thus tolled the bell — but lo, on high Triumphant blazed the cloudless sky ; More ample than St. Peter's dome, It was our heaven, and God'.s home ; — And bound at last for Truth to search We might not linger in the Church. Vogogna gave us on that day An omelet for dejeuner ; — On such ' viaticum ' well-fed The pilgrim, with life garlanded, Goes forth upon the upward way ; THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA 85 Nor shall he faint, nor rest, till he Hath reached the Kingdom that they see Whose eyes are gifted to behold And gaze upon Infinity. Across the bridge where Tosa rolled His sunlit tide of burnished gold We passed, and soon had left behind Pie de Mulera, — to our mind A hot Gehenna of the plain. The torrid home of scorching pain. Such as some Christian-folk declare Their fellow-men anon shall share. But now our hearts were lifted up ; Already from the golden cup 86 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA Of Nature's sacramental wine Our souls had drunk. A light divine Gleamed bright above the horizon line ; And Love was with us, and Delight, When Monte Rosa came in sight. Lo, on its throne, aloft, on high, Encircled by the sapphire sky, A holy spirit seemed to sit ; — What was this Spirit, what was it ? And what the Voices in the air That sang their hymn of praise and prayer ? O Thou, our Master in the Past, What is the Message that thou hast For us the pilgrims of To-day THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA 87 Bound for the heavenly, upward way ? O spirit on thy stainless throne, What is thy teaching ? Shall we say Thou and the Universe are one, And we Thy children, Thine alone — We are a Part, Thou art the Whole ; The world Thy body, Thou the soul ? Yea, shall our worship ever be The praise of the Infinity? But here is Ponte Grande, — here The higher Vision draweth near. As earth's low levels disappear. 'Mid these fair heights long let us stay, And drink of Beauty while we may ; Here quench thy thirst with purest wine ; 88 THE ROAD TO MACUGNAGA Here rest 'mid Nature's holiest shrine, And thou at eventide shalt say, ' I too,' — and shall not this suffice ? — ' I too have been in Paradise.' Keep thou thy soul still and serene. As hid in some lone woodland scene A sheltered lake may long have been ; And, heaven reflected on thy breast, The stars shall on thy bosom rest ; Thou shalt find peace, and Beauty then Shall drift within thy spirit's ken. 