Lover's Litanies

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/title1.png" width-obs="288" height-obs="35" alt="title" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-003.png" width-obs="500" height-obs="180" alt="main title" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <h4><i>BY</i></h4> <br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/author.png" width-obs="172" height-obs="33" alt="logo" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <h4><i>Author of "Love Letters of a Violinist," and<br/> "Gladys the Singer."</i></h4> <br/><br/> <h4>1888.</h4> <h4><i>LONDON:</i></h4> <h5><i>Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E.C.<br/> Simpkin, Marshall &amp; Co.; Hamilton, Adams &amp; Co.</i></h5> <h5><i>New York: Scribner &amp; Welford, 743 &amp; 745, Broadway.</i></h5> <br/> <h6>THE LEADENHALL PRESS,<br/> LONDON, E.C.</h6> <h6>T 4,258.</h6> <br/><br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-005.png" width-obs="472" height-obs="600" alt="Ave Maria" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/><br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-007.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="335" alt="contents" title="" /></div> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</SPAN></span> <br/> <table summary="TOC" border="0"> <tr> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap">page</span></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>First Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#First_Litany"><big><b>Virgo Dulcis</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>11</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Second Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Second_Litany"><big><b>Vox Amoris</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>25</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Third Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Third_Litany"><big><b>Ad Te Clamavi</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>39</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Fourth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Fourth_Litany"><big><b>Gratia Plena</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>53</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Fifth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Fifth_Litany"><big><b>Salve Regina</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>67</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Sixth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Sixth_Litany"><big><b>Benedicta Tu</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>81</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Seventh Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Seventh_Litany"><big><b>Stella Matutina</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>95</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Eighth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Eighth_Litany"><big><b>Domina Exaudi</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>109</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Ninth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Ninth_Litany"><big><b>Lilium inter Spinas</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>123</b></td> </tr> <tr> <td><big><b>Tenth Litany</b></big></td> <td><SPAN href="#Tenth_Litany"><big><b>Gloria in Excelsis</b></big></SPAN></td> <td class="tdr"><b>137</b></td> </tr> </table> <br/><br/><br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-008.png" width-obs="300" height-obs="261" alt="angel" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-009.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="363" alt="virgo dulcis" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="First_Litany" id="First_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-011.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="442" alt="first banner" title="" /></div> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> thou refulgent essence of all grace!<br/></span> <span class="i2">O thou that with the witchery of thy face<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hast made of me thy servant unto death,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeed<br/></span> <span class="i0">My venturous wooing, and the wanton speed<br/></span> <span class="i2">With which I greet thee, dear and tender soul!<br/></span> <span class="i0">From out the fullness of my passion-creed.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am so truly thine that nevermore<br/></span> <span class="i2">Shall man be found, this side the Stygian shore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So meek as I, so patient under blame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet, withal, so minded to proclaim<br/></span> <span class="i0">His life-long ardour. For my theme is just:<br/></span> <span class="i0">A heart enslaved, a smile, a broken trust,<br/></span> <span class="i2">A soft mirage, a glimpse of fairyland,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then the wreck thereof in tears and dust.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou wast not made for murder, yet a glance<br/></span> <span class="i2">May murderous prove; and beauty may entrance,<br/></span> <span class="i0">More than a syren's or a serpent's eye.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there are moments when a smother'd sigh<br/></span> <span class="i0">May hint at comfort and a murmur'd "No"<br/></span> <span class="i0">Give signs of "Yes," and Misery's overflow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Make tears more precious than we care to tell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though, one by one, our hopes we must forego.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> should have shunn'd thee as a man may shun<br/></span> <span class="i2">His evil hour. I should have curst the sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">That made the day so bright and earth so fair<br/></span> <span class="i0">When first we met, delirium through the air<br/></span> <span class="i0">Burning like fire! I should have curst the moon<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the stars that, dream-like, in a swoon<br/></span> <span class="i2">Shut out the day,&mdash;the lov'd, the lovely day<br/></span> <span class="i0">That came too late and left us all too soon.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> look'd at thee, and lo! from face to feet,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I saw my tyrant, and I felt the beat<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my quick pulse. I knew thee for a queen<br/></span> <span class="i0">And bow'd submissive; and the smile serene<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy sweet face reveal'd the soul of thee.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I was wounded as a man may be<br/></span> <span class="i2">Whom Eros tricks with words he will not prove;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all my peace of mind went out from me.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, why didst cheer me with the thought of bliss,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And wouldst not pay me back my luckless kiss?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I sought thy side. I gave thee of my store<br/></span> <span class="i0">One wild salute. A flame was at the core<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of that first kiss; and on my mouth I feel<br/></span> <span class="i0">The glow thereof, the pressure and the seal,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As if thy nature, when the deed was done,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had leapt to mine in lightning-like appeal.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>f debts were paid in full I might require<br/></span> <span class="i2">More than my kiss. I might, in time, aspire<br/></span> <span class="i0">To some new bond, or re-enact the first.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For once, thou know'st, the love for which I thirst,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The love for which I hunger'd in thy sight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was not withheld. I deem'd thee, day and night,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Mine own true mate, and sent thee token flowers<br/></span> <span class="i0">To figure forth the hopes I'd fain indite.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>s this not so? Canst thou detend, in truth,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The sunlike smile with which, in flush of youth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou didst accept my greeting,&mdash;though so late,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">My love-lorn homage when the voice of Fate<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fell from thy lips, and made me twice a man<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because half thine, in that betrothal-plan<br/></span> <span class="i2">Whereof I spake, not knowing how 'twould be<br/></span> <span class="i0">When May had marr'd the prospects it began?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>C</b></big></big></big>an'st thou deny that, early in the spring,<br/></span> <span class="i2">When daisies droop'd, and birds were fain to sing,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We met, and talk'd, and walk'd, and were content<br/></span> <span class="i0">In sunlit paths? An hour and more we spent<br/></span> <span class="i0">In Keats's Grove. We linger'd near the stem<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of that lone tree on which was seen the gem<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of his bright name, there carven by himself;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then I stoop'd and kiss'd thy garment's hem.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> gave thee all my life. I gave thee there,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In that wild hour, the great Creator's share<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of mine existence; and I turn'd to thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">As men to idols, madly on my knee;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then uplifted by those arms of thine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I sat beside thee, warm'd with other wine<br/></span> <span class="i2">Than vintage balm; and, mindful of thy blush,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I guess'd a thought which words will not define.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> told thee stories of the days of joy<br/></span> <span class="i2">When earth was young, and love without alloy<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made all things glad and all the thoughts of things.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And like a man who wonders when he sings,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And knows not whence the power that in him lies,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I made a madrigal of all my sighs<br/></span> <span class="i2">And bade thee heed them; and I join'd therewith<br/></span> <span class="i0">The texts of these my follies that I prize.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> spoke of men, long dead, who wooed in vain<br/></span> <span class="i2">And yet were happy,&mdash;men whose tender pain<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was fraught with fervor, as the night with stars.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then I spoke of heroes' battle-scars<br/></span> <span class="i0">And lordly souls who rode from land to land<br/></span> <span class="i0">To win the love-touch of a lady's hand;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And on the strings of thy low-murmuring lute<br/></span> <span class="i0">I struck the chords that all men understand.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> sang to thee. I praised thee with my praise,<br/></span> <span class="i2">E'en as a bird, conceal'd in sylvan ways,<br/></span> <span class="i0">May laud the rose, and wish, from hour to hour,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That he had petals like the empress-flower,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there could grow, unwing'd, and be a bud,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With all his warblings ta'en at singing-flood<br/></span> <span class="i2">And turned to v&agrave;garies of the wildest scent<br/></span> <span class="i0">To undermine the meekness in her blood.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>h, those were days! That April should have been<br/></span> <span class="i2">My last on earth, and, ere the frondage green<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had changed to gold, I should have join'd the ranks<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of dull dead men who lived for little thanks<br/></span> <span class="i0">And made the most thereof, though penance-bound.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should have known that in the daily round<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of mine existence, there are griefs to spare,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But joys, alas! too few on any ground.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd here I stand to-day with bended head,<br/></span> <span class="i2">My task undone, my garden overspread<br/></span> <span class="i0">With baneful weeds. Am I the lord thereof?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or mine own slave, without the power to doff<br/></span> <span class="i0">My misery's badge? Am I so weak withal,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That I must loiter, though the bugle's call<br/></span> <span class="i2">Shrills o'er the moor, the far-off weltering moor,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where foemen meet to vanquish or to fall?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>m I so blurr'd in soul, so out of health,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I must turn to thee, as if by stealth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fear thy censure, fear thy quick rebuff,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thou so gentle in a world so rough<br/></span> <span class="i0">That God's high priest, the morn-apparell'd sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ne'er saw thy like! Am I indeed undone<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of life and love and all? and must I weep<br/></span> <span class="i0">For joys that quit me, and for sands that run?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>o-morrow's dawn will break; but Yesterday,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where is its light? And where the breezes' play<br/></span> <span class="i0">That sway'd the flowers? A bird will sing again,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But not so well. The wind upon the plain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The wintry wind, will toss the groaning trees;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But I, what comfort shall I have of these,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To know that they, unlov'd, have lost the Spring,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As I thy favour and my power to please?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> should have learnt a lesson from the songs<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of woodland birds discoursing on the wrongs<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of madcap moths and bachelor butterflies.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should have caught the cadence of the sighs<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of unwed flowers, and learnt the way to woo,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which all things know but I, beneath the blue<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of Heaven's great dome; for, undesired of thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have but jarr'd the notes that seem'd so true.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> should have told thee all I meant to tell,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And how, at Lammas-tide, a wedding-bell<br/></span> <span class="i0">Rang through my sleep, mine own as well as thine;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And how I led thee, smiling, to a shrine<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there endow'd thee with the name I bear;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And how I woke to find the morning-air<br/></span> <span class="i2">Flooded with light. I should have told thee this<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not conceal'd the theme of my long prayer.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut I was timid. Oh, my love was such<br/></span> <span class="i2">I scarce could name it! Trembling over-much<br/></span> <span class="i0">With too much ardour, I was moved at length<br/></span> <span class="i0">To mere mad utterance. In a blameful strength<br/></span> <span class="i0">I seiz'd thy hand, to scare thee, as of old<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dryads were scared; and calm and icy-cold<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thine answer came: "I pray thee, vex me not!"<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all that day 'twas winter on the wold.<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-021.png" width-obs="150" height-obs="81" alt="knot" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-022.png" width-obs="338" height-obs="350" alt="cherub hunter" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-023.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="438" alt="vox amoris" title="" /></div> <br/> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span></p> <SPAN name="Second_Litany" id="Second_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-025.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="330" alt="second banner" title="" /></div> <SPAN name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></SPAN> <SPAN href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[<big><b>*</b></big>Link to Footnote 1]</SPAN> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>V</b></big></big></big>ouchsafe, my Lady! by the passion-flower,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And by the glamour of a moonlit hour,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And by the cries and sighs of all the birds<br/></span> <span class="i0">That sing o'nights, to heed again the words<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my poor pleading! For I swear to thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">My love is deeper than the bounding sea,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And more conclusive than a wedding-bell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And freer-voiced than winds upon the lea.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>n all the world, from east unto the west,<br/></span> <span class="i2">There is no vantage-ground, and little rest,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And no content for me from dawn to dark,<br/></span> <span class="i0">From set of sun to song-time of the lark,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet, withal, there is no man alive<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who for a goodly cause to make it thrive,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Would do such deeds as I would gird me to<br/></span> <span class="i0">Could I but win the pearl for which I dive.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t is thy love which, downward in the deep<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of far-off visions, I behold in sleep,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It is thy pearl of love which in the night<br/></span> <span class="i0">Doth tempt my soul to hopes I dare not write,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It is this gem for which, had I a crown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd barter peace and pomp, and ermined gown;<br/></span> <span class="i2">It is thy troth, thou paragon of maids!<br/></span> <span class="i0">For which I'd sell the joys of all renown.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> would attack a panther in its den<br/></span> <span class="i2">To do thee service as thy man of men,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or front the Fates, or, like a ghoul, confer<br/></span> <span class="i0">With staring ghosts outside a sepulchre.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would forego a limb to give thee life,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or yield my soul itself in any strife,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In any coil of doubt, in any spot<br/></span> <span class="i0">When Death and Danger meet as man and wife.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t is my solace, all my nights and days,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To pray for thee and dote on thee always,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And evermore to count myself a king<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because I earn'd thy favour in the spring.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh, smile on me and call me to thy side,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I will kneel to thee, as to a bride,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And yet adore thee as a saint in Heaven<br/></span> <span class="i0">By God ordained, by good men glorified!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> will acquaint thee with mine inmost thought<br/></span> <span class="i2">And teach thee all I know, though unbesought,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And make thee prouder of a poet's dream<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than wealthy men are proud of what they seem.<br/></span> <span class="i0">If thou have trust therein, if thou require<br/></span> <span class="i0">Service of me, or song, or penance dire,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I will obey thee as thy belted knight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or die to satisfy thy heart's desire.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>h! thou hast that in store which none can give,<br/></span> <span class="i2">None but thyself, and I am fain to live<br/></span> <span class="i0">To watch the outcome of so fair a gift,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To see the bright good morrow loom and lift,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And know that thou,&mdash;unpeer'd beneath the moon,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Untamed of men,&mdash;untutor'd to the tune<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of lip with lip,&mdash;wilt cease thy coy disdain<br/></span> <span class="i0">And learn the languors of the loves of June.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>ll that I am, and all I hope to be,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is thine till death; and though I die for thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">Each day I live; and though I throb and thrill<br/></span> <span class="i0">At thoughts that seem to burn me, and to chill,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In my dark hours, I revel in the same;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yet I am free of hope, as thou of blame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all around me, wakeful and in sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I weave a blessing for thy soul to claim.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, by thy radiant hair and by the glow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of thy full eyes,&mdash;and by thy breast of snow,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And by the buds thereof that have the flush<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of infant roses when they strive to blush,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And by thy voice, melodious as a bell<br/></span> <span class="i0">That rings for prayer in God's high citadel,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">By all these things, and more than I can urge,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I charge thee, Sweet! to let me out of hell!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>s it not Hell to live so far away<br/></span> <span class="i2">And not to touch thee,&mdash;not by night or day<br/></span> <span class="i0">To be partaker of one smile of thine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or one commingling of thy breath and mine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or one encounter of thine amorous mouth?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I dwell apart from thee, as north from south,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As east from western ways I dwell apart,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And taste the tears that quench not any drouth.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>hy wouldst thou take the memory of a wrong<br/></span> <span class="i2">To be thy shadow all the summer long,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A thing to chide thee at the dead of night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A thing to wake thee with the morning light<br/></span> <span class="i0">For self-upbraiding, while the wanton bird<br/></span> <span class="i0">Invests the welkin? Ah, by joy deferr'd,<br/></span> <span class="i2">By peace withheld from me,&mdash;do thou relent<br/></span> <span class="i0">And dower my life to-day with one love-word!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>ouldst thou, Cassandra-wise, oppress my soul<br/></span> <span class="i2">With more unrest, and Heb&egrave;-like, the bowl<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of festal comfort for a moment raise<br/></span> <span class="i0">To my poor lips, and then avert thy gaze?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wouldst make me mad beyond the daily curse<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy displeasure, and in wrath disperse<br/></span> <span class="i2">That halcyon draught, that nectar of the mind,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which is the theme I yearn to in my verse?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, by thy pity when so slight a thing<br/></span> <span class="i2">As some small bird is wounded in the wing,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Avert thy scorn, and grant me, from afar,<br/></span> <span class="i0">At least the right to love thee as a star,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The right to turn to thee, the right to bow<br/></span> <span class="i0">To thy pure name and evermore, as now,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To own thy thraldom and to sing thereon,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In proud allegiance to mine earliest vow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t were abuse of power to frown again<br/></span> <span class="i2">When, all day long, I gloat upon the pain<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of pent-up hope, my joy and my distress,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">While the remembrance of a mute caress<br/></span> <span class="i0">Given to a rose,&mdash;a rose I pluck'd for thee,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Seems as the withering of the world to me,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Because I am unlov'd of thee to-day<br/></span> <span class="i0">And undesired as sea-weeds in the sea.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>'ll not believe that eyes so bright as thine<br/></span> <span class="i2">Were meant for malice in the summer-shine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or that a glance thereof, though changed to fire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Could injure one whose spirit, like a lyre,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Has throbb'd to music of remember'd joys,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The pride thereof, and all the tender poise<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of trust with trust,&mdash;the symphonies of grief<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made all mine own,&mdash;and Faith which never cloys.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>H</b></big></big></big>ow can it be that one so fair as thou<br/></span> <span class="i2">Should wear contention on a whiter brow<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than May-day Dian's in her hunting gear?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'll not believe that eyes so holy-clear<br/></span> <span class="i0">And mouth so constant to its morning prayer<br/></span> <span class="i0">Could mock the mischief of a man's despair<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all the misery of a moment's hope<br/></span> <span class="i0">Seen far away, as mists are seen in air.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>H</b></big></big></big>ow can a woman's heart be made of stone<br/></span> <span class="i2">And she not know it? Mine is overthrown.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have no heart to-day, no perfect one,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Only a thing that sighs at set of sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">And beats its cage, as if the thrall thereof<br/></span> <span class="i0">Were freedom's prison or the tomb of love;<br/></span> <span class="i2">As if, God help me! there were shame in truth<br/></span> <span class="i0">And no salvation left in realms above.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> once could laugh, I once was deem'd a man<br/></span> <span class="i2">Fit for the frenzies of the dead god Pan,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And now, by Heaven! the birds that sing so well<br/></span> <span class="i0">Move me to tears; and all the leafy dell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the sun-down glories of the West,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the moorland which the moon has blest,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Make me a dreamer, aye! a coward, too,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In all the weird expanse of mine unrest.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t is my curse to see thee and to learn<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I must shun thee, though I blaze and burn<br/></span> <span class="i0">With all this longing, all this fierce delight<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fear-fraught and famish'd for a suitor's right;<br/></span> <span class="i0">A right conceded for a moment's space<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then withdrawn as, amorous face to face,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dared to clasp thee and to urge a troth<br/></span> <span class="i0">Too sovereign-sweet for one of Adam's race.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am a doom-entangled mirthless soul,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Without the power to rid me of the dole<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which, day by day, and nightly evermore<br/></span> <span class="i0">Corrodes my peace! Oh, smile, as once before,<br/></span> <span class="i0">At each wild thought and each discarded plea,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And let thy sentence, let thy suffrance be<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I be reckon'd till the day I die<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sad-eyed Singer of thy fame and thee!<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-035.png" width-obs="220" height-obs="197" alt="twigs and ribbon" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-036.png" width-obs="361" height-obs="350" alt="cherub watering garden" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <SPAN name="Third_Litany" id="Third_Litany"></SPAN> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-037.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="402" alt="ad te clamavi" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-039.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="331" alt="banner three" title="" /></div> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>gain, O Love! again I make lament,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, Arab-like, I pitch my summer-tent<br/></span> <span class="i0">Outside the gateways of the Lord of Song.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I weep and wait, contented all day long<br/></span> <span class="i0">To be the proud possessor of a grief.<br/></span> <span class="i0">It comforts me. It gives me more relief<br/></span> <span class="i2">Than pleasures give; and, spirit-like in air,<br/></span> <span class="i0">It re-invokes the peace that was so brief.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t speaks of thee. It keeps me from the lake<br/></span> <span class="i2">Which else might tempt me; and for thy sweet sake<br/></span> <span class="i0">I shun all evil. I am calmer now<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than when I wooed thee, calmer than the vow<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which made me thine, and yet so fond withal<br/></span> <span class="i0">I start and tremble at the wind's footfall.<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is it the wind? Or is it mine own past<br/></span> <span class="i0">Come back to life to lure me to its thrall?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> long to rise and seek thee where thou art<br/></span> <span class="i2">And draw thee amorous to my wakeful heart<br/></span> <span class="i0">That beats for thee alone, in vague unrest.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I long to front thee when thou'rt lily-dress'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">In white attire,&mdash;e'en like the flowers of old<br/></span> <span class="i0">That Jesus praised; and, though the thought be bold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I'm fain to kiss thee, Sweetheart! through thy hair<br/></span> <span class="i0">And hide my face awhile in all that gold.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> will not say what more might then be done,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And how, by moonlight or beneath the sun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We might be happy. In a reckless mood<br/></span> <span class="i0">I've talk'd of this; and dreams and many a brood<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of tongue-tied fancies have my soul beset.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I will not hint at fealty or the fret<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of lips untrue, or anger thee therein,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or call to mind one word thou wouldst forget.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> should withhold my raptures were I wise,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I should not vex thee with my many sighs,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or claim one tear from thee, though 'tis my due.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should be silent. I should cease to sue!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sorrow should teach me what I fail'd to learn<br/></span> <span class="i0">In days gone by; and cross'd at every turn<br/></span> <span class="i2">By some new doubt, new-born of my desires,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should suppress the pangs with which I burn.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am an outcast from the land of love<br/></span> <span class="i2">And thou the Queen thereof, as white as dove<br/></span> <span class="i0">New-sped from Heaven, and fine and fair to see<br/></span> <span class="i0">As coy Queen Mab when, out upon the lea,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She met her master and was lov'd of him.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou art allied to long-hair'd cherubim,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I a something undesired of these,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With woesome lips and eyes for ever dim.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> was ordain'd thy minstrel, but alas!<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dare not greet thee when I see thee pass;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I scarce, indeed, may hope at any time,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To work my will, or triumph in a rhyme<br/></span> <span class="i0">To do thee honour; no, nor make amends<br/></span> <span class="i0">For unsought fervor, in the tangled ends<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of my despair. How sad, how dark to me<br/></span> <span class="i0">All things have grown since thou and I were friends!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t is the fault of thy despotic glance,<br/></span> <span class="i2">It is the memory of a day's romance<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, true to thee, though taunted for my truth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I dared to solemnise the joys of youth<br/></span> <span class="i0">In one wild chant. It is thy fault, I say!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy piteous fault that, on the verge of May,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I lost the right to live, as heretofore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Untouched by doubt from day to brightening day.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Summer's Pride! I loved thee from the first,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, like a martyr, I was blest and curst,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And saved and slain, and crown'd and made anew,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A grief-glad man, with yearnings not a few,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But no just hope to win so fair a troth.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should have known how one may weep for both<br/></span> <span class="i2">When lovers part, poor souls! beneath the moon,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And how Remembrance may outlive an oath.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he nymphs, I think, were like thee in the glade<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of that Greek valley where the wine was made<br/></span> <span class="i0">For feasts of Bacchus; for I dream at night<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of those creations, kind and calm and bright;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in my thought, unhallow'd though it be,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sun-born Muses turn their gaze on me,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And seem to know me as a friend of theirs,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though all unfit to serve them on my knee.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hey lived and sang. They died as visions die,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Supreme, eternal, offshoots of the sky,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made and re-made, undraped and draped afresh,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To glad the earth like phantoms made of flesh,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet as mistlike as delusions are!<br/></span> <span class="i0">They stood beside Achilles in his car;<br/></span> <span class="i2">They knew the gods and all their joysome deeds,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the chants that sprang from star to star.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he myths of Greece, the maidens of the grove,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The dear dead fancies of the days of Jove,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Why were they bann'd? Oh, why in Reason's name,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Were they abolished? They were good to claim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And good to dream of, and to crown with bays,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Far-seen of men, far-shining in the haze<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of withering doubts. They were the world's elect,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As thou art mine, to bow to and to praise.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>N</b></big></big></big>ight after night I see thee, in my dreams,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As fair as Daphne, with the morning beams<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy bright locks about thee like a cloak,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fair as the young Aurora when she woke<br/></span> <span class="i0">At Ph&aelig;thon's call, athwart the mountain-heights.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I see thee radiant in the summer nights,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, bosom-pack'd with frenzies unrepress'd,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I thrill to thee in Slumber's soft delights.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</SPAN></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> see thee pout. I see thee in disdain<br/></span> <span class="i2">Look out, reluctant, through the falling rain<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy long hair. I feel thee close at hand.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I note thy breathing as I loose the band<br/></span> <span class="i0">That binds thy waist, and then to waking life<br/></span> <span class="i0">I backward start! Despair is Sorrow's wife;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I am Sorrow, and Despair's mine own,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To lure me on to madness or to strife.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>M</b></big></big></big>y sex offends thee, or the thought of this;<br/></span> <span class="i2">For I did fright thee when I fleck'd a kiss<br/></span> <span class="i0">With too much heat. I should have bow'd to thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And left unsaid the word, deception-free,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which, like a flash, illumed the love within,<br/></span> <span class="i0">My wilfulness was much to blame therein;<br/></span> <span class="i2">But thou wilt shrive me, Sweet! of mine offence<br/></span> <span class="i0">If passion-pangs be deem'd so dark a sin.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, give me back my soul that with the same<br/></span> <span class="i2">I may achieve a deed of poet-fame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or die belauded on the battle-field!<br/></span> <span class="i0">There's much to seek. My hand is strong to wield<br/></span> <span class="i0">Weapon or pen. If thou consent thereto<br/></span> <span class="i0">Deeds may be done. If not, thine eyes are blue<br/></span> <span class="i2">And Heaven is there,&mdash;a two-fold tender shrine<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whose wrath I fear, whose judgment still I rue!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am but half myself. The life in me<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is nigh crush'd out; and, though I seem to see<br/></span> <span class="i0">Glory, and grace, and joy, as in the past,<br/></span> <span class="i0">They are but shadows on the cozening blast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And dreams of devils and distorted things,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And snakes coiled up that look like wedding rings,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And faded flowers that once were fit for wreaths<br/></span> <span class="i0">In bygone summers and in perish'd springs.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>here is a curse in every garden place,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And when, at night, the lily's holy face<br/></span> <span class="i0">Looks up to God, it seems to chide me there.<br/></span> <span class="i0">The very sun with all his golden hair<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is ill at ease, and birth and death of day<br/></span> <span class="i0">Bring no relief; and darkly on my way<br/></span> <span class="i2">My memory comes,&mdash;the ghost of my Delight,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To fret and fume at woes it cannot slay.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, bid me smile again, as in the time<br/></span> <span class="i2">When all the breezes seem'd to make a chime,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the birds on all the woodland slopes<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had trills for me, and seem'd to guess the hopes<br/></span> <span class="i0">That warm'd my heart. O thou whom I adore!<br/></span> <span class="i0">How proud were I,&mdash;though wounded bitter-sore<br/></span> <span class="i2">By shafts of doubt,&mdash;if, in default of love<br/></span> <span class="i0">I could but win thy friendship as of yore.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hen were I blest indeed, and crown'd of fate<br/></span> <span class="i2">As kings are crowned, as bards in their estate<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are rapture-fraught, re-risen above the dust.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then were I torture-proof, and on the crust<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of one kind word, though as a pittance thrown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd live for weeks! My tears I would disown<br/></span> <span class="i2">And pray, contented with my discontent,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As hermits pray when storms are overblown.<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-049.png" width-obs="177" height-obs="200" alt="wild flowers" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-050.png" width-obs="325" height-obs="400" alt="cherub and flowers" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Fourth_Litany" id="Fourth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-051.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="374" alt="gratia plena" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-053.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="298" alt="fourth banner" title="" /></div> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, smile on me, thou syren of my soul!<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I may curb my thoughts to some control<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not offend thee, as in truth I do,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Morning, and noon and night, when I pursue<br/></span> <span class="i0">My vagrant fancies, unallow'd of thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But fraught with such consolement unto me<br/></span> <span class="i2">As may be felt in homeward-sailing ships<br/></span> <span class="i0">When wind and wave contend upon the sea.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>D</b></big></big></big>ower me with patience and imbue me still<br/></span> <span class="i2">With some reminder, when the night is chill,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy dear presence, as, in winter-time,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The maiden moon, that tenderly doth climb<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lofty heavens, hath yet a beam to spare<br/></span> <span class="i0">For doleful wretches in their dungeon-lair;<br/></span> <span class="i2">E'en thus endow me in my chamber dim<br/></span> <span class="i0">With some reminder of thy face so fair!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>Q</b></big></big></big>uit thou thy body while thou sleepest well<br/></span> <span class="i2">And visit mine at midnight, by the spell<br/></span> <span class="i0">That knows not shame. For in the House of Sleep<br/></span> <span class="i0">All things are pure; and in the silence deep<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'll wait for thee, and thou, contrition-wise,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wilt seek my couch and this that on it lies,<br/></span> <span class="i2">This frame of mine that lives for thee alone<br/></span> <span class="i0">As palmers live for peace that never dies.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t were a goodly thing to spare a foe<br/></span> <span class="i2">And kill his hate. And I would e'en do so!<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I would kill the coyness of thy face.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would enfold thee in my spurn'd embrace<br/></span> <span class="i0">And kiss the kiss that gladdens as with wine.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yea, I would wrestle with those arms of thine,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, like a victor, I would vanquish thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, tyrant-like, I'd teach thee to be mine.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>F</b></big></big></big>or, what is peace that we should cling thereto<br/></span> <span class="i2">If war be wisest? If the death we woo<br/></span> <span class="i0">Be fraught with fervor there's delight in death!<br/></span> <span class="i0">There is persuasion in the tempest's breath<br/></span> <span class="i0">Not known in calm; and raptures round us flow<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, like an arrow through the bended bow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of two fond lips, the quivering dart of love<br/></span> <span class="i0">Brings down the kiss which saints shall not bestow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he soldier dies for country and for kin;<br/></span> <span class="i2">He dies for fame that is so sweet to win;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, part for duty, part for battle-doom,<br/></span> <span class="i0">He wends his way to where the myrtles bloom;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He gains a grave, perchance a recompense<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beyond his seeking, and a restful sense<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of soul-completion, far from any strife,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And far from memory of his land's defence.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>e this my meed,&mdash;to die for love of thee,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As when the sun goes down upon the sea<br/></span> <span class="i0">And finds no mate in all the realms of earth.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I, too, have look'd on Nature in its worth<br/></span> <span class="i0">And found no resting-place in all the spheres,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And no relief beyond my sonnet-tears,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">The soul-fed shudderings of my lonely harp<br/></span> <span class="i0">That knows the gamut now of all my fears.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> wear thy colours till the day I die:<br/></span> <span class="i2">A glove, a ribbon, and a rose thereby,<br/></span> <span class="i0">All join'd in one. I revel in these things;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For, once an angel, unarray'd in wings,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Came to my side, and beam'd on me, and said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">"I love thee, friend!" and then, with lifted head,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Gave me a rose on which the dew had fallen;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, like the flower, she blush'd a virgin-red.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> found the glove down yonder in the dale.<br/></span> <span class="i2">I knew 'twas thine; its color, creamy-pale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fill'd me with joy. "A prize!" I cried aloud,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And snatch'd it up, as zealous then, and proud,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As one who wins a knighthood in his youth;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I was moved thereat, in very sooth,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And kiss'd it oft, and call'd on kindly Heaven<br/></span> <span class="i0">To be the sponsor of mine amorous truth.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> Earn'd the ribbon as we earn a smile<br/></span> <span class="i2">For service done. I help'd thee at the stile;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And so 'twas mine, my trophy, as of right.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh, never yet was ribbon half so bright!<br/></span> <span class="i0">It seem'd of sky-descent,&mdash;a strip of morn<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thrown on the sod,&mdash;a something summer-worn<br/></span> <span class="i2">To be my guerdon; and, enriched therewith,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I follow'd thee, thy suitor, through the corn.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> trod on air. I seem'd to hear the sound<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of fifes and trumpets and the quick rebound<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of bells unseen,&mdash;the storming of a tower<br/></span> <span class="i0">By imps audacious, and the sovereign power<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some arch-fairy, thine acquaintance sure<br/></span> <span class="i0">In days gone by; for, all the land was pure,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As if new-blest,&mdash;the land and all the sea<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the welkin where the stars endure.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>e journey'd on through fields that were a-glow<br/></span> <span class="i2">With cowslip buds and daisies white as snow;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, hand in hand, we stood beside a shrine<br/></span> <span class="i0">At which a bard whom lovers deem divine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Laid down his life; and, as we gazed at this,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There seem'd to issue from the wood's abyss<br/></span> <span class="i2">A sound of trills, as if, in its wild way,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A nightingale were pondering on a kiss.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big> lane was reached that led I know not where,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Unless to Heaven,&mdash;for Heaven was surely there<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thou so near it! And within a nook<br/></span> <span class="i0">A-down whose covertness a noisy brook<br/></span> <span class="i0">Did talk of peace, I learnt of thee my fate;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The word of pity that was kin to hate,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">The voice of reason that was reason's foe<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because it spurn'd the love that was so great!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut I must pause. I must, from day to day,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Keep back my tears, and seek a surer way<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than Memory's track. I must, with lifted eyes,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Re-shape my life, and heed the battle-cries<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of prompt ambition, and be braced at call<br/></span> <span class="i0">To do such deeds as haply may befall,<br/></span> <span class="i2">If, freed of thee, and charter'd to myself,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I may undo the bonds that now enthrall.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>S</b></big></big></big>hall I do this? I shall; and thou shalt see<br/></span> <span class="i2">Signs of rebellion. I will turn to thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">And claim obedience. I will make it plain<br/></span> <span class="i0">How many a link may go to form a chain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And each a circlet, each a ring to wear.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I will extract the sting from my despair<br/></span> <span class="i2">And toy therewith, as with a charm&egrave;d snake,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That, Lamia-like, uprears itself in air.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>r is my boast a vain, an empty one,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And shall I rue it ere the day is done?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will hope revive betimes? Or must I stand<br/></span> <span class="i0">For evermore outside the fairyland<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy good will? Alas! my place is here,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To muse and moan and sigh and shed my tear,<br/></span> <span class="i2">My paltry tear for one who loves me not,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And would not mourn for me on my death-bier.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, get thee hence, thou harbinger of light!<br/></span> <span class="i2">That, like a dream, dost come to me at night<br/></span> <span class="i0">To haunt my sleep, and rob me of content,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So true-untrue, so deaf to my lament,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I must forego the pride I felt therein.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Aye, get thee hence! And I will crush the sin,<br/></span> <span class="i2">If sin it be, that prompts me, night and day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To seek in thee the bliss I cannot win.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>r, if thou needs must haunt me after dark,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Come when I wake. The oriole and the lark<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are friends of thine; and oft, I know, the thrush<br/></span> <span class="i0">Has trill'd of thee at morn and even-blush.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And flowers have made confessions unto me<br/></span> <span class="i0">At which I marvel; for they rail at thee<br/></span> <span class="i2">And call thee heartless in thy seemlihood,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though queen-elect of all the flowers that be.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>N</b></big></big></big>ay, heed me not! I rave; I am possess'd<br/></span> <span class="i2">By utmost longing. I am sore oppress'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">By thoughts of woe; and in my heart I feel<br/></span> <span class="i0">A something keener than the touch of steel,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As if, to-day, a danger unforeseen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had track'd thy path,&mdash;as if my prayers had been<br/></span> <span class="i2">Misjudged in Heaven, or drown'd in demon-shouts<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beyond the boundaries of the coasts terrene.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut this is clear; this much at least is true:<br/></span> <span class="i2">I am thine own! I doat upon the blue<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy kind eyes, well knowing that in these<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are proofs of God; and down upon my knees<br/></span> <span class="i0">I fall subservient, as a man in shame<br/></span> <span class="i0">May own a fault; albeit, as with a flame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I burn all day, abash'd and unforgiven,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all unfit to touch the hand I claim!<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-063.png" width-obs="175" height-obs="158" alt="birds" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-064.png" width-obs="319" height-obs="350" alt="fairy with flowers" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Fifth_Litany" id="Fifth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-065.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="398" alt="salve regina" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-067.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="419" alt="fifth banner" title="" /></div> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>G</b></big></big></big>lory to thee, my Queen! whom far away<br/></span> <span class="i2">My thoughts aspire to,&mdash;as the birds of May<br/></span> <span class="i0">Aspire o' mornings,&mdash;as in lonely nooks<br/></span> <span class="i0">The gurgling murmurs of neglected brooks<br/></span> <span class="i0">Aspire to moonlight,&mdash;aye! as earth aspires<br/></span> <span class="i0">When through the East, alert with wild desires,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The rapturous sun surveys the welkin's height,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And flecks the world with witcheries of his fires.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, I should curb my grief. I should entone<br/></span> <span class="i2">No plaint to thee; no loss should I bemoan!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should be patient, I, though full of care,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not attempt, by bias of a prayer,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To sway thy spirit, or to urge anew<br/></span> <span class="i0">A claim contested. For my days are few;<br/></span> <span class="i2">My days, I think, are few upon the earth<br/></span> <span class="i0">Since I must shun the joys I would pursue.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am not worthy of the Heaven I name<br/></span> <span class="i2">When I name thee; and yet to win the same<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is still my dream. I strive as best I can<br/></span> <span class="i0">To live uprightly on the vaunted plan<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of old-world sages. But I strive not well;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thoughts conflicting which I cannot quell<br/></span> <span class="i2">Make me despondent; and I quake thereat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As at the shuddering of a doomsday bell.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>o die for thee were more than my desert;<br/></span> <span class="i2">To live for thee to keep thee out of hurt<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, like a slave, to wait upon thy will<br/></span> <span class="i0">Were more than fame. And lo! I nourish still<br/></span> <span class="i0">A sense of calm to feel that thou, at least,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Art sorrow-free and honor'd at the feast<br/></span> <span class="i2">Which Nature spreads for all contented minds;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And that for thee its splendours have increased.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> stand alone. I stand beneath the trees,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I guess their thoughts; I hear them to the breeze<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say tender nothings; and I dream the while<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy white arms, and thy remember'd smile,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, in a spot like this, a year a-gone,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I saw thee stoop to pluck from off the lawn<br/></span> <span class="i2">A wounded bird that peer'd into thy face<br/></span> <span class="i0">As if it took thee for the nymph of dawn!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, can it be, as friends of thine affirm<br/></span> <span class="i2">That thou'rt a fairy,&mdash;that, from term to term,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Month after month, belov'd of all good things,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou'rt seen in forests and in meadow rings<br/></span> <span class="i0">Girt for the dance? or like an Oread queen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Array'd for council? For the woods convene<br/></span> <span class="i2">Their dryad forces when the nights are clear,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And nymphs and fawns carouse upon the green.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he crescent moon, the Argosy of heaven,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Veers for the west across the Ple&iuml;ads seven,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, out beyond the ridge of Charles's Wain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">It seems to come to mooring on the main<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of that deep sky, as if awaiting there<br/></span> <span class="i0">An angel-guest with sunlight in her hair,<br/></span> <span class="i2">A seraph's cousin, or the foster-child<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some centurion of the upper air.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>s it thy soul? Has Cynthia call'd for thee<br/></span> <span class="i2">In her white boat, to take thee o'er the sea<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where suns and stars and constellations bright<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are isles of glory,&mdash;where a seraph's right<br/></span> <span class="i0">Surpasses mine, and makes me seem indeed<br/></span> <span class="i0">A base intruder, with a coward's creed<br/></span> <span class="i2">And not an angel's, though a Christian born<br/></span> <span class="i0">And pledged alw&agrave;ys to serve thee at thy need?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou'rt sleeping now; and in thy snowy rest,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">In that seclusion which is like a nest<br/></span> <span class="i0">For blameless human maids beheld of those<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who come from God,&mdash;thou hast in thy repose<br/></span> <span class="i0">No thought of me,&mdash;no thought of pairing-time.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For thou'rt the sworn opponent of the rhyme<br/></span> <span class="i2">That lovers make in kissing; and anon<br/></span> <span class="i0">My very love will vex thee like a crime.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut day and night, and winter-tide and spring,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Change at thy voice; and when I hear thee sing<br/></span> <span class="i0">I know 'tis May; and when I see thy face<br/></span> <span class="i0">I know 'tis Summer. Thou'rt the youngest Grace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the Muses praise thee evermore.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there are birds who name thee as they soar;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And some of these,&mdash;the best and brightest ones,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Have guess'd the pangs that pierce me to the core.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou art the month of May with all its nights<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all its days transfigured in the lights<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of love-lit smiles and glances multiform;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, like a lark that sings above a storm,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy voice o'er-rides the tumult of my mind.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh, give me back the peace I strove to find<br/></span> <span class="i2">In my last prayer, and I'll believe that Hope<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will dry anon the tears that make it blind.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>here's none like thee, not one in all the world;<br/></span> <span class="i2">No face so fair, no smile so sweet-impearl'd,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And no such music on the hills and plains<br/></span> <span class="i0">As thy young voice whereof the thrill remains<br/></span> <span class="i0">For hours and hours,&mdash;belike to keep alive<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sense of beauty that the flowers may thrive.<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or is't thy wish that birds should fly to thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">Before the days of April's quest arrive?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou'rt noble-natured; and there's none to stand<br/></span> <span class="i2">So meek as thou, or with so dear a hand<br/></span> <span class="i0">To ward off wrong. For Psyche of the Greeks<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is dead and gone; and Eros with his freaks<br/></span> <span class="i0">Has bow'd to thee, and turn'd aside, for shame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">His useless shaft, not daring to proclaim<br/></span> <span class="i2">His amorous laws, and thou so maiden-coy<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beneath the halo of thy spotless name!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut dreams are idle, and I must forget<br/></span> <span class="i2">All that they tend to. I must cease to fret,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Moth as I am, for stars beyond the reach<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of mine up-soaring; and in milder speech<br/></span> <span class="i0">I must invoke thy blessing on the road<br/></span> <span class="i0">That lies before me,&mdash;far from thine abode,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And far from all persuasion that again<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou wilt accept the terms of my love-code.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Sweet! forgive me that from day to day<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dream such dreams, and teach me how to sway<br/></span> <span class="i0">My fluttering self, that, in forsaken hours,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I may be valiant, and eschew the powers<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of death and doubt! I need the certitude<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thine esteem that I may check the feud<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of mine own thoughts that rend and anger me<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because denied the boon for which I sued.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>each me to wait with patience for a word,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And be the sight of thee no more deferr'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than one up-rising of the vesper star<br/></span> <span class="i0">That waits on Dian when, supreme, afar,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She eyes the sunset. And of this be sure,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As I'm a man and thou a maid demure,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou shalt be ta'en aside and wonder'd at,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Before the gloaming leaves the land obscure.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou shalt be bow'd to as we bow to saints<br/></span> <span class="i2">In window'd shrines; and, far from all attaints<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of ribald passion, thou, as seemeth good,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wilt smile serenely in thy virginhood.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nor shall I know, of mine own poor accord,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which thing in all the world is best to hoard,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or which is worst of all the things that slay:<br/></span> <span class="i0">A woman's beauty or a soldier's sword.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> grieve in sleep. I pine away at night.<br/></span> <span class="i2">I wake, uncared for, in the morning light;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, hour by hour, I marvel that for me<br/></span> <span class="i0">The wandering wind should make its minstrelsy<br/></span> <span class="i0">So sweet and calm. I marvel that the sun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So round and red, with all his hair undone,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Should smile at me and yet begrudge me still<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sight of thee that art my worshipp'd one!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> count my moments as a cloister'd man<br/></span> <span class="i2">May count his beads; and through the weary span<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of each long day I peer into my heart<br/></span> <span class="i0">For hints of comfort; and I find, in part,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A self-committal, and a glimpse withal<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some new menace in the rise and fall<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of days and nights that are the test of Time<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though Fate would make a mockery of them all.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>here's a disaster worse than loss of gold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Worse than remorse, and worse a thousand-fold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than pangs of hunger. 'Tis the thirst of love,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The rage and rapture of the ravening dove<br/></span> <span class="i0">We name Desire. Ah, pardon! I offend;<br/></span> <span class="i0">My fervor blinds me to the withering end<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of all good council, and, accurst thereby,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I vaunt anew the faults I cannot mend.<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-077.png" width-obs="126" height-obs="175" alt="wild flowers 2" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-078.png" width-obs="332" height-obs="350" alt="cherubs dancing" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Sixth_Litany" id="Sixth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-079.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="371" alt="benedicta tu" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-081.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="405" alt="sixth banner" title="" /></div> <br/> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> tell thee Sweet! there lives not on the earth<br/></span> <span class="i2">A love like mine in all the height and girth<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the vast completion of the sphere.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I should be proud, to-day, to shed a tear<br/></span> <span class="i0">If I could weep. But tears are most denied<br/></span> <span class="i0">When most besought; and joys are sanctified<br/></span> <span class="i2">By joys' undoing in this world of ours<br/></span> <span class="i0">From dusk to dawn and dawn to eventide.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>ert thou a marble maid and I endow'd<br/></span> <span class="i2">With power to move thee from thy seeming shroud<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of frozen splendour,&mdash;all thy whiteness mine<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the glamour, all the tender shine<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy glad eyes,&mdash;ah God! if this were so,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I the loosener, in the summer-glow,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of thy long tresses! I were licensed then<br/></span> <span class="i0">To gaze, unchidden, on thy limbs of snow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> would prepare for thee a holy niche<br/></span> <span class="i2">In some new temple, and with draperies rich,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And flowers and lamps and incense of the best,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would with something of mine own unrest<br/></span> <span class="i0">Imbue thy blood and prompt thee to be just.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would endow thee with a fairer trust<br/></span> <span class="i2">Than mere contentment, and a dearer joy<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than mere revulsion from the sins of dust.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big> band of boys, with psaltery and with lyre,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And Cyprian girls, the slaves of thy desire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would chant and pray and raise so wild a storm<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of golden notes around thy sculptured form<br/></span> <span class="i0">That saints would hear the chorus up in Heaven,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And intermingle with their holy steven<br/></span> <span class="i2">The sighs of earth, and long for other cares<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than those ordain'd them by the Lord's Eleven.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> would approach thee with a master's tread<br/></span> <span class="i2">And claim thy hand and have the service read<br/></span> <span class="i0">By youthful priests resplendent every one;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in thy frame the blood of thee would run<br/></span> <span class="i0">As warm and sound as wine of Syracuse.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all that day the birds would bear the news<br/></span> <span class="i2">In far directions, and the meadow-flowers<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would dream thereof, love-laden, in the dews.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hen, by magnetic force,&mdash;the greatest known<br/></span> <span class="i2">This side the tomb,&mdash;I would athwart the stone<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy white body, in a trice of time,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Call forth thy soul, and woo thee to the chime<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of tinkling bells, and make thee half afraid,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And half aggrieved, to find thyself array'd<br/></span> <span class="i2">In such enthralment, and in such attire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In sight of one whose will should not be stay'd.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd, like Pygmalion, I would claim anon<br/></span> <span class="i2">A bride's submission; and my talk thereon<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would not perplex thee; for the sense of life<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would warm thy heart, and urge thee to the strife<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of lip with lip, and kiss with pulsing kiss,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which gives the clue to all we know of bliss,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all we know of heights we long to climb<br/></span> <span class="i0">Beyond the boundaries of the grave's abyss.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he dear old deeds chiv&agrave;lrous once again<br/></span> <span class="i2">Would find fulfilment; and the curse of Cain<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which fell on woman, as on men it fell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would fly from us, as at a sorcerer's spell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And leave us wiser than the sophists are<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who love not folly. Night should not debar,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nor day dissuade us, from those ecstacies<br/></span> <span class="i0">That have Anacreon's fame for guiding-star.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>ye! thou wouldst kneel and seek in me apace<br/></span> <span class="i2">A transient shelter for thine amorous face<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which then I'd screen; and thou to me wouldst turn<br/></span> <span class="i0">With awe-struck eyes, and cling to me and yearn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With sighs full tender and a touch of fear.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, like a bird which knows that spring is near,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, after spring, the summer of sweet days,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou wouldst attune thy love-notes in mine ear.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>r, fraught with feelings near akin to hate,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou wouldst denounce me; and, like one elate,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou wouldst entwine me in thine arms so white,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As soldier-nymphs, with rapt and raging sight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made war with spearsmen in the vales of song,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The vales of Sparta where, for right or wrong,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The gods were potent, and, for beauty's sake,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Upheld the tourneys of the fair and strong.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> would not seem too wilful in the heat<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of our encounter, or with sighs repeat<br/></span> <span class="i0">Too fierce a vow. I would throughout confess<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy murderous mirth, thy conquering loveliness,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then subdue thee! Tears would not avail<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nor prayer, nor praise; and, flush'd the while or pale,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou shouldst be mine, my hostage in the night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Without the option of a moment's bail.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou shouldst be mine! My hopes, from first to last,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Would win their way; and, lithe and love-aghast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all unnerv'd, thou wouldst, as in a dream<br/></span> <span class="i0">Entreat my pardon! I would callous seem<br/></span> <span class="i0">To thine out-yearning. I would cast on thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">A questioning look, and then, upon my knee,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I would surrender to that face of thine<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which is the great world's wonder unto me.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Heaven! could this be done, and I fulfil<br/></span> <span class="i2">One half my wish, and curb thee to my will,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I were a prompter and a prouder man<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than earth has known since light-foot lovers ran<br/></span> <span class="i0">For Atalanta, lov'd of men and boys.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I were a kaiser then, a king of joys,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And fit to play with high-begotten pomps<br/></span> <span class="i0">As children play with pebbles or with toys.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Golden Hair! O Gladness of an Hour<br/></span> <span class="i2">Made flesh and blood! O beauteous Human Flower<br/></span> <span class="i0">Too sweet to pluck, and yet, though seeming-cold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ordain'd to love! I pray thee, as of old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Be kind to me. I saw thee yesternight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And for an instant I was urged to plight<br/></span> <span class="i2">My troth again; for in thy face I saw<br/></span> <span class="i0">What seem'd a smile evoked for my delight.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>R</b></big></big></big>e-grant thy favour! Take me by the hand<br/></span> <span class="i2">And lead me back again to thine own land,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The nook supreme, the sanctum in the glen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where pixies walk,&mdash;unknown to peevish men<br/></span> <span class="i0">And shrew-like women whom no faith uplifts!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Show me the place where Nature keeps the gifts<br/></span> <span class="i2">She most approves, and where the song-birds dwell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I'll forego the land of little thrifts.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he moon is mother and the sun is sire<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of those young planets which, with infant fire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Have late been found in regions too remote<br/></span> <span class="i0">For quicklier search; and these, in time, will dote<br/></span> <span class="i0">And whirl and wanton in the realms of space.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For there are comets in the nightly chase<br/></span> <span class="i2">Who see strange things untalk'd of by the bards;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And earth herself has found a trysting-place.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd so 'tis clear that sun and moon and stars<br/></span> <span class="i2">Are link'd by love! The marriage-feast of Mars<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was fixt long since. 'Tis Venus whom he weds.<br/></span> <span class="i0">'Tis she alone for whom he gaily treads<br/></span> <span class="i0">His path of splendour; and of Saturn's ring<br/></span> <span class="i0">He knows the symbol, and will have, in spring,<br/></span> <span class="i2">A night-betrothal, near the Southern Cross;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the stars will pause thereat and sing.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>hat wonder, then, what wonder if to-day<br/></span> <span class="i2">I, too, assert my right, in roundelay,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To talk of rings and posies and the vows<br/></span> <span class="i0">That wait on marriage? 'Tis the wild carouse<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of soul with soul athwart the sense of touch.<br/></span> <span class="i0">'Tis this uplifts us when, with fever-clutch,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The world would claim us; and our hopes revive<br/></span> <span class="i0">In spite of fears that daunt us over-much.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>L</b></big></big></big>ips may be coy; but eyes are quick, at times,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To note the throbbings that are hot as crimes,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fond as flutterings of the wings of doves.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For he is blind indeed who, when he loves,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Doubts all he sees:&mdash;the flickering of a smile,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Parthian glance, the nod that, for a while,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Outbids Elysium, and is half a jest,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And half a truth, to tempt us and beguile.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hine eyes have told me things I dare not speak;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I will trust the track they bid me seek,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yea, though it lead me to the gates of death!<br/></span> <span class="i0">The wind is labouring:&mdash;it is out of breath;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Belike for scampering up the hill so fast<br/></span> <span class="i0">To say all's well with thee; and, down the blast,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I seem to hear the sounds of serenades<br/></span> <span class="i0">That swell from out the song-fields of the past.<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-091.png" width-obs="147" height-obs="175" alt="wheat ears" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-092.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="309" alt="cherubs and trumpet" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Seventh_Litany" id="Seventh_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-093.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="389" alt="stella matutina" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-095.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="375" alt="seventh banner" title="" /></div> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>rise, fair Ph&oelig;oelig;bus! and with looks serene<br/></span> <span class="i2">Survey the world which late the orb&egrave;d Queen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Did pave with pearl to please enamour'd swains.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Arise! Arise! The Dark is bound in chains,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thou'rt immortal, and thy throne is here<br/></span> <span class="i0">To sway the seasons, and to make it clear<br/></span> <span class="i2">How much we need thee, O thou silent god!<br/></span> <span class="i0">That art the crown'd controller of the year.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd while the breezes re-construct for thee<br/></span> <span class="i2">The shimmering clouds; and while, from lea to lea,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The great earth reddens with a maid's delight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Behold! I bring to thee, as yesternight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">My subject song. Do thou protect apace<br/></span> <span class="i0">My peerless one, my Peri with the face<br/></span> <span class="i2">That is a marvel to the minds of men,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And like a flower for humbleness of grace.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he earth which loves thee, or I much have err'd,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The glad, green earth which waits, as for a word,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sound of thee, up-shuddering through the morn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The restive earth is pleased when Day is born,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And soon will take each separate silent beam<br/></span> <span class="i0">As proof of sex,&mdash;exulting in the dream<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of joys to come, and quicken'd and convuls'd,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Year after year, by love's triumphant theme.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big> thousand times the flowers in all the fields<br/></span> <span class="i2">Will bow to thee; and with their little shields<br/></span> <span class="i0">The daisy-folk will muster on the plain.<br/></span> <span class="i0">A thousand songs the birds will sing again,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As sweet to hear as quiverings of a lute;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And she I love will sing, for thy repute,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Full many a song. She sings when she but speaks;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when she's near the birds should all be mute.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> my Belov&egrave;d! from thy curtain'd bed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Arise, rejoice, uplift thy golden head,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And be an instant, while I muse on this,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As nude as statues, and as good to kiss<br/></span> <span class="i0">As dear St. Agnes when she met her death,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unclad and pure and patient of her breath,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And with the grace of God for wedding-gown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As many an ancient story witnesseth.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he bath, the plunge, the combing of the hair,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All this I view,&mdash;a sight beyond compare<br/></span> <span class="i0">Since Daphne died in all the varied charms<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of her chaste body,&mdash;rounded regal arms,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And shape supreme, too fair for human gaze,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But not too fair to win the mirror's praise<br/></span> <span class="i2">That throbs to see thee in thy d&eacute;shabille<br/></span> <span class="i0">And loves thee well through all the nights and days.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> see thee thus in fancy, as in books<br/></span> <span class="i2">A man may see the na&iuml;ads of the brooks;&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">As one entranced by potions aptly given<br/></span> <span class="i0">May see the angels where they walk in Heaven,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And may not greet them in their high estate.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For who shall guess the riddle wrought of Fate<br/></span> <span class="i2">Till he be dead? And who that lives a span<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shall thwart the Future where it lies in wait?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd now to-day a word I dare not write<br/></span> <span class="i2">Starts to my lips, as when a baffled knight<br/></span> <span class="i0">Witholds a song which fain he would repeat;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For lo! the sense thereof is passing sweet.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, like a cup that's full, my heart is fill'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">With new desires and quiverings new-distill'd<br/></span> <span class="i2">From old delights; and all my pulses throb<br/></span> <span class="i0">As at the touch of dreams divinely-will'd.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>ho talks of comfort when he sees thee not<br/></span> <span class="i2">And feels no fragrance of the happy lot<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which violets feel, when call'd upon to lie<br/></span> <span class="i0">On thy white breast? And who with amorous eye<br/></span> <span class="i0">Looks at the dear tomb of the shuddering flowers,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The two-fold tomb where daintily for hours<br/></span> <span class="i2">They droop and muse,&mdash;who looks, I say, at these<br/></span> <span class="i0">And will not own the witchery of thy powers?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>ho speaks of glory and the force of love,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And thou not near, my maiden-minded dove!<br/></span> <span class="i0">With all the coyness, all the beauty-sheen,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy rapt face? A fearless virgin-queen,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">A queen of peace art thou,&mdash;and on thy head<br/></span> <span class="i0">The golden light of all thy hair is shed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Most nimbus-like and most suggestive, too,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of youthful saints enshrined and garlanded.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>hou'rt Nature's own; and when a word of thine<br/></span> <span class="i2">Rings on the air, and when the Voice Divine<br/></span> <span class="i0">We call the lark upfloats amid the blue,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I know not which is which, for both are true,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Both meant for Heaven, though foster'd here below.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when the silences around me flow,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I think of lilies and the face of thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which hath compell'd my manhood's overthrow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> blue-eyed Rapture with the radiant locks!<br/></span> <span class="i2">O thou for whom, athwart the fever-shocks<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of life and death and misery and much sin,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd sell salvation! There's a prize to win<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thou'rt its voucher; there's a wonder-prize,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unknown till now beneath the vaulted skies,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And thou'rt its symbol; thou'rt its essence fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Its full completion form'd adoring-wise!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>Y</b></big></big></big>es, I will tell thee how I love thee best,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all my thoughts of thee shall be confess'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">And none withheld, not e'en the witless one<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which late I harbor'd when the mounting sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">Burst from a cloud,&mdash;the moon a mile away,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As if in hiding from the lord of day,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">As if, at times, the moon were like thyself,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fear'd the semblance of a master's sway.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> love thee dearly when thine eyes are dim<br/></span> <span class="i2">With unshed tears; for then they seem to swim<br/></span> <span class="i0">In liquid blessedness, and unto me<br/></span> <span class="i0">There comes the memory of a god's decree<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which said of old:&mdash;"Be all men evermore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">All men and maids whose hearts are passion-sore,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Acclaim'd in Heaven!" and all day long I muse<br/></span> <span class="i0">On hope's divine and deathless prophet-lore.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> love thee when the soft endearing flush<br/></span> <span class="i2">Invades thy face, and dimples in the blush<br/></span> <span class="i0">Bespeak attention,&mdash;as a rose's pout<br/></span> <span class="i0">Absorbs the stillness when the sun is out,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the air retains the glow thereof.<br/></span> <span class="i0">In all the world there is not light enough<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nor sheen enough, all day, nor any warmth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Till thou be near me, arm'd with some rebuff!<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</SPAN></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd how I love thee when thy startled eyes<br/></span> <span class="i2">Look out at me, enrapt in that surprise<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which marks an epoch in the life I lead,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">As if they guess'd the scope of Eros' creed<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the mirth and malice of his wiles.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For it is wondrous when my Lady smiles,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all the ground is holy where she treads,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the air is thrill'd for many miles!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>n every mood of thine thou art my joy,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, day by day, to shield thee from annoy,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd do the deeds that slaves were bound unto<br/></span> <span class="i0">With stabs for payment,&mdash;shuddering through and through<br/></span> <span class="i0">With their much labour; and I'd deem it grand<br/></span> <span class="i0">To die for thee if, after touch of hand,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I might but kiss thee as a lover doth;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I should then be king of all the land.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut Father Time, old Time with Janus-face<br/></span> <span class="i2">Looks o'er the sphere, and sees no fitting place<br/></span> <span class="i0">For thine acceptance; for the thrones of earth<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are much too mean, and in thy maiden worth<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou'rt crown'd enough, and throned in very sooth<br/></span> <span class="i0">More than the queens who lord it in their youth<br/></span> <span class="i2">O'er men's convictions; and He names thy name<br/></span> <span class="i0">As one belov'd of Nature and of Truth.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>H</b></big></big></big>e sees the nights, he sees the veering days,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The sweet spring season with its hymn of praise,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The summer, frondage-proud, the autumn pale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The winter worn with withering of the gale,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All this he sees; and now, to-day, in June,<br/></span> <span class="i0">He, too, recalls that rapturous afternoon<br/></span> <span class="i2">When all the fields and flowers were like a dream,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the winds the offshoot of a tune.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>S</b></big></big></big>o I will cease to clamour for the past,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And seek suspension of my doubts at last,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In some new way till Fate becomes my friend.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I will re-gain the right to re-defend<br/></span> <span class="i0">The love I bear to thee, for good or ill.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For though, 'tis said, our griefs have power to kill,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Mine let me live, in mine unworthiness,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That, spurn'd of thee, my lips may praise thee still!<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-105.png" width-obs="128" height-obs="200" alt="wild flowers 3" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-106.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="192" alt="cherubs with boat" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Eighth_Litany" id="Eighth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-107.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="397" alt="domina exaudi" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-109.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="404" alt="eighth banner" title="" /></div> <p>i.</p> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t seems a year, and more, since last we met,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Since roseate spring repaid, in part, its debt<br/></span> <span class="i0">To thy bright eyes, and o'er the lowlands fair<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made daffodils so like thy golden hair<br/></span> <span class="i0">That I, poor wretch, have kiss'd them on my knees!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Forget-Me-Nots peep out beneath the trees<br/></span> <span class="i2">So like thine eyes that I have question'd them,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thought thee near, though viewless on the breeze.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t seems a year; and yet, when all is told,<br/></span> <span class="i2">'Tis but a week since I was re-enroll'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">Among thy friends. How fairy-like the scene!<br/></span> <span class="i0">How gay with lamps! How fraught with tender sheen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of life and languor! I was thine alone:&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Alert for thee,&mdash;intent to catch the tone<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of thy sweet voice,&mdash;and proud to be alive<br/></span> <span class="i0">To call to heart a peace for ever flown.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>H</b></big></big></big>ad I not vext thee, as a monk in prayer<br/></span> <span class="i2">May vex a saint by musing, unaware,<br/></span> <span class="i0">On evil things? A saint is hard to move,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And quick to chide, and slow,&mdash;as I can prove,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To do what's just; and yet, in thy despite,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We met again, we too, at dead of night;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I was hopeful in my love of thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thou superb, and matchless, in the light.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> felt distraught from gazing over-much<br/></span> <span class="i2">At thy great beauty; and I fear'd to touch<br/></span> <span class="i0">The dainty hand which Envy's self hath praised.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I fear'd to greet thee; and my soul was dazed<br/></span> <span class="i0">And self-convicted in its new design;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I was mad to hope to call thee mine,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Aye! mad as he who claims a Virgin's love<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because his lips have praised her at a shrine.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> saw thee there in all the proud array<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of thy young charms,&mdash;as if a summer's day<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had leapt to life and made itself a queen,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">As if the sylphs, remembering what had been,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had mission'd thee, from out the world's romance,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To stir my pulse, and thrill me with a glance:<br/></span> <span class="i2">And once again, allow'd, though undesired,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I did become thy partner in the dance.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</SPAN></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> bow'd to thee. I drew thee to my side,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As one may seize a wrestler in his pride<br/></span> <span class="i0">To try conclusions,&mdash;and I felt the rush<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my heart's blood suffuse me in a blush<br/></span> <span class="i0">That told its tale. But what my tongue would tell<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was spent in sighs, as o'er my spirit fell<br/></span> <span class="i2">The silvery cadence of thy lips' assent;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And every look o'er-ruled me like a spell.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> devil's joy of dancing, when a tune<br/></span> <span class="i2">Speeds us to Heaven, and night is at the noon<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of all its frolic, all its wild desire!<br/></span> <span class="i0">O thrall of rapt illusions when we tire<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of coy reserve, and all the moments pass<br/></span> <span class="i0">As pass the visions in a magic glass,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And every step is shod with ecstacy,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And every smile is fleck'd with some Alas!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>as it a moment or a merry span<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of years uncounted when convulsion ran<br/></span> <span class="i0">Right through the veins of me, to make me blest,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet accurst, in that revolving quest<br/></span> <span class="i0">Known as a waltz,&mdash;if waltz indeed it were<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not a fluttering dream of gauze and vair<br/></span> <span class="i2">And languorous eyes? I scarce can muse thereon<br/></span> <span class="i0">Without a pang too sweet for me to bear!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>y right of music, for a fleeting term,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Mine arms enwound thee and I held thee firm<br/></span> <span class="i0">There on my breast,&mdash;so near, yet so remote,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So close about me that I seem'd to float<br/></span> <span class="i0">In sunlit rapture,&mdash;touch'd I know not how<br/></span> <span class="i0">By some suggestion of a deeper vow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Than men are 'ware of when, on Glory's track,<br/></span> <span class="i0">They kneel to angels with uplifted brow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd lo! abash'd, I do recall to mind<br/></span> <span class="i2">All that is past:&mdash;the yearning undefined,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The baulk'd confession that was like a sob&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sound of singing and the gurgling throb<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of lute and viol,&mdash;meant for many things<br/></span> <span class="i0">But most for misery; and a something clings<br/></span> <span class="i2">Close to my heart that is not wantonness,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though, wanton-like, it warms me while it stings.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he night returns,&mdash;that night of all the nights!<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I am dower'd anew with such delights<br/></span> <span class="i0">As memory feeds on; for I walk'd with thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">In moonlit gardens, and there flew to me<br/></span> <span class="i0">A flower-like moth, a pinion'd daffodil,<br/></span> <span class="i0">From Nature's hand; and, out beyond the hill,<br/></span> <span class="i2">There rose a star I joy'd to look upon<br/></span> <span class="i0">Because it seem'd the star of thy good will.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>e sat beneath the trees, as well thou know'st,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Within an arbour which a summer's boast<br/></span> <span class="i0">Had made ambrosial; and we loiter'd there<br/></span> <span class="i0">Some little space, the while upon the air<br/></span> <span class="i0">Uprose the fragrance of uncounted flowers.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ah me! how weird a tryste was that of ours!<br/></span> <span class="i2">And how the moon look'd down, so lurid-warm,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Athwart the stillness of the frondage-towers!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> seem'd to feel thy breath upon my cheek;<br/></span> <span class="i2">I vainly searched for words I long'd to speak,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But could not utter lest the sound thereof<br/></span> <span class="i0">Should scare away the elves that wait on love.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when I spoke to thee 'twas of the spot<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where we were seated,&mdash;things that matter'd not,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Uncared for things,&mdash;the weather,&mdash;the new laws!<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, sudden-loud, the wind assail'd the grot.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big> little bird was warbling overhead<br/></span> <span class="i2">As if to twit me with the word unsaid<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which he, more daring, when the sun was high,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Trill'd to his mate! He knew the tender "why"<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of many a pleading, and he knew, meseems,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The very key-note to the lyric dreams<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of all true poets when, by love impell'd,<br/></span> <span class="i0">They search the secrets of the woods and streams.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>'T</b></big></big></big>is sure that summer, when she rear'd the bower<br/></span> <span class="i2">And arched the roof and gave it all the dower<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of all its leaves, and all the crannies small<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where wrens look through,&mdash;'tis sure that, after all,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Summer was kind, and meant to make for me<br/></span> <span class="i0">A shriving-place,&mdash;a lighthouse on the sea<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of all that verdure,&mdash;that, beneath the stars,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I might receive one quickening glance from thee.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h! had I dared to whisper in thine ear<br/></span> <span class="i2">My heart-full wish, undaunted by the fear<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some rebuke:&mdash;a flush of thy fair face,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A lifted hand to tell me that the place<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was fairy-fenced, and guarded as by flame,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh! had I dared to court the word of blame<br/></span> <span class="i2">That's good for me, no doubt! at every turn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">My life to-day were chasten'd by the same.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut I was conscious of a sudden ban<br/></span> <span class="i2">Hurl'd from the zenith. I was like the man<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who scaled Olympus, with intent to bring<br/></span> <span class="i0">New fire therefrom, and dared not face the King<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thought and thunder. I was full prepared<br/></span> <span class="i0">For thy displeasure,&mdash;for the past was bared<br/></span> <span class="i2">To mine on-looking; and, with faltering tongue,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I left my languorous meanings undeclared.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> lost Occasion! what a thing art thou:&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">A three-fold key,&mdash;the when, the where, the how,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The past, the present and the future tense,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All thrown aside. For what? A witless sense<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some compunction! When the hour is bold<br/></span> <span class="i0">Reason is shy, and rapture, seeming-cold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Makes mute surrender of its dearest chance,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all for fear of doubts that might be told.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut could we meet, oh! could we meet again<br/></span> <span class="i2">On some such night, unseen upon the plain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd rob thee, Lady! of a tardy smile.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would do this; and, for a breathing-while,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I would assert a sinner's right to pray,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A sinner's right to choose, as best he may,<br/></span> <span class="i2">His patron-saint; and I would kneel to thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And call thee mine, and dote on thee for aye!<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</SPAN></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big>nd then in summer, when the hours are mad,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all the flow'rets in the fields are glad,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the breezes, like demented things<br/></span> <span class="i0">Outspeed the birds with sunlight on their wings,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In summer, aye! in summer's gracious time,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I might perchance be pardon'd for the crime<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of my much love, and win thy benison<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ere yet the year has reached its golden prime!<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-119.png" width-obs="175" height-obs="170" alt="leaves" title="" /></div> <br/><br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-120.png" width-obs="365" height-obs="375" alt="cherub reading" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Ninth_Litany" id="Ninth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-121.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="369" alt="lilium inter spinas" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-123.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="429" alt="ninth banner" title="" /></div> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>D</b></big></big></big>earest and best of maidens, whom the Fates<br/></span> <span class="i2">have dower'd with beauty, whom the glory-gates<br/></span> <span class="i0">Have shown so splendid in my waking sight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is't well, thou syren! thus to haunt the night<br/></span> <span class="i0">And grant no mercy, none from week to week<br/></span> <span class="i0">All through the year? Is't well my soul to seek<br/></span> <span class="i2">And shun my body? Is't throughout ordain'd<br/></span> <span class="i0">That thou shouldst spurn a love so tender-meek?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>t is my joy to serve thee, 'tis my pride<br/></span> <span class="i2">To own my follies, though anew denied<br/></span> <span class="i0">The chance of wisdom, and for this, who knows?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I shall be counted, ere the season's close,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A time-perverter. Yes! I shall be shamed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And frown'd upon, and day by day proclaim'd<br/></span> <span class="i2">A foe to virtue, though, in seeking thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">I seek the goal that Virtue's self hath named.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Lily mine! O Lily tipp'd with gold<br/></span> <span class="i2">And welkin-eyed for angels to behold<br/></span> <span class="i0">When down on earth! Is't well to stand apart<br/></span> <span class="i0">And gaze at me and gently break my heart<br/></span> <span class="i0">Without one word? Is't well to seem alw&agrave;y<br/></span> <span class="i0">So grieved to see me, when, at fall of day,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou dost accept the reverence of mine eyes,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But not the homage that my lips would pay?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, give me back again, at midnight hour,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As in the circuit of that starlit bower,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The right to talk with thee, and be thy friend,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The right, in some wild way, to make an end<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my submission, or to re-bestow<br/></span> <span class="i0">My troth on thee,&mdash;despite the overthrow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of all my dreams, that were my constant care,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Though less to thee than flakes of alien snow.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> will unveil my meanings one by one,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And tell thee why the bird that loves the sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">Loves not the moon, though conscious of her fame.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For he's the soul of truth, in his acclaim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And knows not treason! And of like intent<br/></span> <span class="i0">Are all my yearnings, too, when I lament.<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, though I say it, there's no troubadour<br/></span> <span class="i0">Has lov'd as I, since Cupid's bow was bent.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> have been wed in sleep, and thou hast been<br/></span> <span class="i2">Mine own true bride,&mdash;the swooning summer-queen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my heart-throbs. I have been wed in jest!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have been taken wildly to thy breast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then repell'd, and made to feel the ire<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of eager eyes that have the strange desire<br/></span> <span class="i2">To rack my soul, a-tremble in the dark,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But not the will to aid me to aspire.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> should have died the instant that I heard<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thy whisper'd vow in slumber,&mdash;when a word<br/></span> <span class="i0">Made me thy master, for I did receive<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy full surrender, and I'll not believe<br/></span> <span class="i0">That all was false; or that my dreaming-power<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was given for nought. The Future may devour<br/></span> <span class="i2">The facts of earth, but not its phantasies,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not the dreams we dream from hour to hour.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big>h, thou'lt confess that love from man to maid<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is more than kingdoms,&mdash;more than light and shade<br/></span> <span class="i0">In sky-built gardens where the minstrels dwell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And more than ransom from the bonds of Hell.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou wilt, I say, admit the truth of this,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And half relent that, shrinking from a kiss,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou didst consign me to mine own disdain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Athwart the raptures of a vision'd bliss.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>'ll seek no joy that is not link'd with thine,<br/></span> <span class="i2">No touch of hope, no taste of holy wine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And, after death, no home in any star<br/></span> <span class="i0">That is not shared by thee, supreme, afar,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As here thou'rt first and foremost of all things!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Glory is thine and gladness and the wings<br/></span> <span class="i2">That wait on thought when, in thy spirit-sway,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou dost invest a realm unknown to kings.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> will accept of thee a poison-bowl<br/></span> <span class="i2">And drink the dregs thereof,&mdash;aye! to the soul,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And sound thy praises with my latest breath!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I was a pilgrim bound for Nazareth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But when I knew thee, when I touched thy hand,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I changed my purpose; and to-day I stand<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thine amorous vassal, though denounced afresh<br/></span> <span class="i0">And warn'd away, unkiss'd, from Edenland.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> flower unequall'd here from morn to morn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is't well, bethink thee, with a rose's thorn<br/></span> <span class="i0">To deck thyself, thou lily! and to seem<br/></span> <span class="i0">So irresponsive to my passion-dream?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is't a caprice of thine to look so proud,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And so severe, athwart the shining cloud<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of thy long hair? And shall I never learn<br/></span> <span class="i0">How least to grieve thee when my vows are vow'd?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he full perfection of thy face is such<br/></span> <span class="i2">That, like a child's, it seems to know the touch<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of some glad hour that God has smiled upon.<br/></span> <span class="i0">There is a whiteness whiter than the swan,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A singing sweeter than the linnet's note.<br/></span> <span class="i0">But there is nothing whiter than thy throat,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And nothing sweeter than thy tender voice<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, love-attuned, it skyward seems to float.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>L</b></big></big></big>ily and rose in one! To find thy peer<br/></span> <span class="i2">Exceeds belief, all through the varying year,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For chance thereof, and hope thereof, is none.<br/></span> <span class="i0">There comes no rival to the rising sun,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And none to thee!&mdash;no rival to the moon<br/></span> <span class="i0">That sets in Venice on the far lagoon,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And none to thee, thou marvel of the months,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That art the cynosure of night and noon!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>Y</b></big></big></big>es, I will hope. I will not cease to turn<br/></span> <span class="i2">My thoughts to thee, and cry to thee, and yearn<br/></span> <span class="i0">As one in Hell may lift enamour'd eyes<br/></span> <span class="i0">To some sweet soul beyond the central skies<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whose face has slain him! For 'tis true, I swear:<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have been murder'd by thy golden hair,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And by the brightness of those fring&egrave;d orbs<br/></span> <span class="i0">That are at once my joy and my despair.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>inter is wild; but spring will come again;<br/></span> <span class="i2">For there's compunction in the fever-pain<br/></span> <span class="i0">That earth endures when, clamorous down the steep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The wind out-blows the curse it cannot keep.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And so, belike, thy scorn of me may change<br/></span> <span class="i0">To something fairer than the fated range<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of dole, and doubt, and pity, and reproof;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then my sighs may cease to seem so strange.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>F</b></big></big></big>or thou and I will meet and not be foes,<br/></span> <span class="i2">E'en as the rue may stand beside the rose<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not affront it,&mdash;as a lonely tree<br/></span> <span class="i0">May guard a shrine and not upon the lea<br/></span> <span class="i0">Be deem'd obtrusive,&mdash;as an errant knight<br/></span> <span class="i0">May serve the sovereign of his soul's delight<br/></span> <span class="i2">And not, thereby, be deem'd of less account<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than he who keeps her daily in his sight.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>R</b></big></big></big>eject me not that in the world of men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Among the wielders of the sword and pen<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have, as 'twere, detractors by the score,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Reject me not for faults that I deplore<br/></span> <span class="i0">And fain would alter,&mdash;though, if I were wise,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd blunt the edge thereof in some disguise<br/></span> <span class="i2">Approved of thee! For I've a kind of hope<br/></span> <span class="i0">That we'll be friends again ere summer dies.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>f this be true I'll greet thee with such fire<br/></span> <span class="i2">That thou wilt throb thereat, as throbs a lyre,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And give thine answer, too, without restraint,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And neither frown at me nor fear a taint<br/></span> <span class="i0">In my much zeal, that knows not any pause<br/></span> <span class="i0">But, night and day, is constant to the laws<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of its own making, and is fain to prove<br/></span> <span class="i0">How leagued it is throughout to Honor's cause.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> will conceal from thee no thought of mine.<br/></span> <span class="i2">All will be clear as signing of a sign<br/></span> <span class="i0">On marriage-scrips; and, though I tell thee so,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The seas and streams of earth shall cease to flow<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ere thou shalt find, in this world or the next,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A love so proud, a faith so firmly sex'd,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As this of mine. For thou'rt the polar star<br/></span> <span class="i0">To which I turn as minstrel to his text.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</SPAN></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut woe's the hour! My heart is wounded sore,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And soon may cease to take, as heretofore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Such keen delight in tears that comfort not,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But evermore do seem to leave a blot<br/></span> <span class="i0">On sorrow's teaching! Shall I muse thereon<br/></span> <span class="i0">One season more, till hope and faith be gone?<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or must I look for comfort up in Heaven<br/></span> <span class="i0">And then be slain by thee as night by dawn?<br/></span></div> </div> <br/><br/> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-133.png" width-obs="149" height-obs="175" alt="flower buds" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-134.png" width-obs="400" height-obs="292" alt="cherubs playing music" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</SPAN></span> <SPAN name="Tenth_Litany" id="Tenth_Litany"></SPAN> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-135.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="349" alt="gloria in excelsis" title="" /></div> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</SPAN></span> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-137.png" width-obs="600" height-obs="409" alt="tenth banner" title="" /></div> <h4>i.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>O</b></big></big></big> Love! O Lustre of the sunlit earth<br/></span> <span class="i2">That knows thy step and revels in the worth<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of thy much beauty! Is't thy will anew,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Famed as thou art, to marvel that I sue<br/></span> <span class="i0">With such persistence, and in such unrest<br/></span> <span class="i0">Amid the frenzies of my passion-quest?<br/></span> <span class="i2">Wilt look ungently, and without a tear,<br/></span> <span class="i0">On all the pangs I bear at thy behest?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>M</b></big></big></big>orning and eve I cease not, when I kneel<br/></span> <span class="i2">To my Redeemer for my spirit's weal<br/></span> <span class="i0">And for my body's,&mdash;as becomes a man,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Morning and eve I cease not in the span<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of all my days, O thou Unconquer'd One!<br/></span> <span class="i0">To pray for thee, and do what may be done<br/></span> <span class="i2">To re-acquire the friendship I have lost,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which is the holiest thing beneath the sun.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>F</b></big></big></big>or what is fame that with so loud a voice<br/></span> <span class="i2">O'ersways the nations? What the random choice<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of sight and sound which makes the place we fill<br/></span> <span class="i0">So fraught with good, so redolent of ill?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where is the thunderstorm of yesternight<br/></span> <span class="i0">That shook the clouds? And where the levin's blight<br/></span> <span class="i2">That spake of chaos and the Judgment Day?<br/></span> <span class="i0">And where the wisdom of a king's delight?<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>iv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>C</b></big></big></big>ould I be kiss'd of thee, or crown'd of men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I'd choose the kiss. I'd be ordain&egrave;d then<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lord of myself, and not the slave I seem<br/></span> <span class="i0">To each new doubt. Our tryste was like a dream<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet 'twas true. For oft, by wonder-chance,<br/></span> <span class="i0">We find the path to many a bright romance,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And many a tilt and tourney of dear love<br/></span> <span class="i0">In which the brave are vanquish'd by a glance.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>v.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>o lie alone with thee one little hour,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And cling to thee as flower may cling to flower,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With no rough thought beyond the peace thereof,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To be thy comrade, and to don and doff<br/></span> <span class="i0">The little chain that hangs about thy neck,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To do all this, my Fair One! and to fleck<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thine eyes with kisses, were a righteous deed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not a thing for Love to hold in check.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>N</b></big></big></big>ay, there are dimples which I long to taste,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And there's a girdle fit for Ph&oelig;be's waist<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which I would loosen; for I have the skill<br/></span> <span class="i0">To handle lilies; and, by Venus' will,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I'd handle thee, and comfort thee therein.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For love's a sacrament I'd die to win,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And not a toy nor yet a subterfuge;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And not a pitfall for the feet of sin.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>vii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he searching suddenness of thy blue eyes,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The flash thereof, the fire that in them lies,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All this I yearn to,&mdash;all the soul of thee<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shown in thy looks, as though to solace me<br/></span> <span class="i0">In some disaster portion'd out as mine.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where thou abidest, where thy limbs recline,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where thou'rt absorb'd in silence or in prayer,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There stands a throne, there gleams a fairy shrine.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>viii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> am, indeed, more subject to thy sway<br/></span> <span class="i2">Than trees are subject, in their tender way,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To earth's great king revolving round the sphere.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I am thy suffering servant all the year;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when I wake thy name is on my lips,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when I sleep I feel thy finger-tips<br/></span> <span class="i2">Press'd on mine eyes, as if thy wraith were there,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To save my soul from night's entire eclipse.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>ix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>ill I have heard from thee my doom of death<br/></span> <span class="i2">I shall be proud to serve thee with my breath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And with my labour, and be thine withal<br/></span> <span class="i0">As Man is God's,&mdash;content with any thrall<br/></span> <span class="i0">That's bound in thee; content with any lot<br/></span> <span class="i0">That's link'd with thine, in some secluded spot<br/></span> <span class="i2">Which thou hast lov'd, O Lady! in the past,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And where remorse and wrong will find us not.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>x.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>o know thee fair, ah God! how sweet is this;<br/></span> <span class="i2">To find thee wavering, and to grasp in bliss<br/></span> <span class="i0">Only the dream of thee, how sad the while!<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet, by reason of a moment's smile,<br/></span> <span class="i0">How grand to hope, how gracious to forget!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou false to me? Thou heedless of a debt<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of love's incurring? Nay, by Juno's crown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy snow-white hand shall be my guerdon yet!<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xi.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he spirit-love that leads us to the soul<br/></span> <span class="i2">Athwart the body as its fairest goal,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The love that lives in languor undefined<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet is strong,&mdash;the love that can be kind<br/></span> <span class="i0">And yet aggressive as a soldier's blade,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Keen to the hilt, entranced and not afraid,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">This is the love that will survive the death<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of all endowments which the years have made.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>ilt frown at this? Wilt chide me? Wilt appeal,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As some are wont, when lovers, out of zeal,<br/></span> <span class="i0">O'erstep the bounds of wisdom which hath ceased<br/></span> <span class="i0">To win men's praise? The Matins of the East<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sung by the lark,&mdash;the Credo of the Cloud<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which oft he sings in confirmation proud<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of his great love,&mdash;all this were mine excuse<br/></span> <span class="i0">If I could sing as he, so dawn-endow'd.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>F</b></big></big></big>or I'd be welcome, then, where'er thou art,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And gladden thee, and play as prompt a part<br/></span> <span class="i0">As Romeo play'd with Juliet at his breast.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who loves not love, who hates to be caress'd,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is Nature's bane; and I'll denounce him, too.<br/></span> <span class="i0">For he's a foe to all that's just and true<br/></span> <span class="i2">In earth and Heaven; and when he seeks a joy,<br/></span> <span class="i0">His quest shall fail,&mdash;his hand shall miss the clue.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xiv.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>W</b></big></big></big>e know these things. We know how dark a word<br/></span> <span class="i2">May let in light, and how the smallest bird<br/></span> <span class="i0">May mix the morn with music till we think<br/></span> <span class="i0">The fire-lit air is wine for us to drink,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And every drop salvation,&mdash;every sound<br/></span> <span class="i0">A Muse's whisper,&mdash;all the flower-full ground<br/></span> <span class="i2">A fancy-carpet fit for knights to tread<br/></span> <span class="i0">When on their way to Arthur's Table Round.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xv.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>A</b></big></big></big> peevish fool is he who will not raise<br/></span> <span class="i2">His hands in prayer, among the danger-days<br/></span> <span class="i0">That come to all; for he, when waxen old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will search the past and find it callous-cold;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the future, too, will freeze for him.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nor shall he weep aright when tears bedim<br/></span> <span class="i2">His desperate, doleful eyes that know not faith;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And he shall hear no chants of cherubim.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvi.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big> was bewitch'd of late! My soul had met<br/></span> <span class="i2">Some fearful doom; and there had dropt a threat,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">A curse belike,&mdash;from lips of Atropos.<br/></span> <span class="i0">There had been done a deed of spirit-loss<br/></span> <span class="i0">Which did o'erwhelm me as I paused thereat.<br/></span> <span class="i0">But now 'tis shunn'd; and where a Tremor sat<br/></span> <span class="i2">Now sits a Hope; and where a gulf was seen<br/></span> <span class="i0">Now stands a mount as blest as Ararat.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xvii.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>T</b></big></big></big>he rose is silent, and the lily dumb<br/></span> <span class="i2">For Man alone. He sees them when they come<br/></span> <span class="i0">Glad from the soil; but what they mean thereby,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And what they dream of, when they front the sky,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Eludes his learning. But the birds can tell.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Moths talk to flowers; and breezes in the dell<br/></span> <span class="i2">Hear more confessions than we men reveal;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And oaks and cedars love each other well.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xviii.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>I</b></big></big></big>n woodland places where the grass is lit<br/></span> <span class="i2">With lamp-like flowers, I seem to see thee flit<br/></span> <span class="i0">On azure wings, as if to bless the glade;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For, everywhere, thy form in shine and shade<br/></span> <span class="i0">Doth come and go, conversant, as I deem,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With Nature's whims; for thou'rt of great esteem<br/></span> <span class="i2">In fairy haunts; and elves and fays confess<br/></span> <span class="i0">How sweet thou art, my Love! and how supreme.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xix.</h4> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>D</b></big></big></big>iana's self was not more virgin-proud.<br/></span> <span class="i2">The maiden-moon, new-seated on a cloud<br/></span> <span class="i0">That seems her throne where she receives the stars,&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The moon who holds her court beyond the jars<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of land and sea,&mdash;the moon, the vestal moon,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Has kept thee cold since the transcendant noon<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of that wild day when I thy hand did claim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And when thy lips refus&egrave;d me their boon.<br/></span></div> </div> <h4>xx.</h4> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</SPAN></span> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><big><big><big><b>B</b></big></big></big>ut thoughts are free; and mine have found at last<br/></span> <span class="i2">Their apt solution; and, from out the past,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There seems to shine as 'twere a beacon-fire;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the land is lit with large desire<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of lambent glory; all the quivering sea<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is big with waves that wait the Morn's decree,<br/></span> <span class="i2">As I, thy vassal, wait thy beckoning smile<br/></span> <span class="i0">Athwart the splendors of my dreams of Thee!<br/></span></div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-p-147.png" width-obs="300" height-obs="156" alt="Amen!" title="" /></div> <br/><br/> <div class="footnotes"> <h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> <br/> <div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></SPAN> <SPAN href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></SPAN> This Litany was introduced in the Author's "Gladys the Singer," published by Messrs. Reeves &amp; Turner, London, 1887.</p> </div> <br/></div> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</SPAN></span> <h4>THE LEADENHALL PRESS<br/> LONDON, E. C<br/> T 4,258.</h4> <br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</SPAN></span> <h1>Extracts from Field and Tuer's Book List.</h1> <h3>The Leadenhall Press, 50, Leadenhall Street, E. C.</h3> <hr style="width: 45%;" /> <h4><i>Upwards of 300 Superb Illustrations (some beautifully hand-coloured.)</i></h4> <p><big><big><b>Kensington:</b></big></big> <span class="smcap">Picturesque and Historical</span>. By W. J. Loftie, B.A., F.S.A., Author of "A History of London," &amp;c., &amp;c. Illustrated by W. Luker, Jun., from Original Drawings carefully finished on the spot and engraved in Paris. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C. </p> <p class="right">[&pound;2 5s.</p> <div class="blockquot"> <p>Since the publication of Faulkner's work in 1820, no history of Kensington pretending to accuracy or completeness has been produced. This work contains full and descriptive accounts of the parish of Kensington and the adjoining Palace and Gardens, with the changes and improvements of the past half century or more; notices of Kensington celebrities and of the great national institutions which have sprung up at Kensington Gore and Brompton Park; and a fund of discursive matter of local and historical interest. The engravings include artistic exteriors and interiors; glimpses of Kensington Gardens; the Palace in which the Queen was born; the park; the people, streets, houses, churches, and ruins; and pretty, quaint, and taking "bits" of Kensington scenery. All the drawings have been engraved in Paris in the finest possible manner, and the paper on which they are printed has been specially manufactured of a quality to ensure the delicacy of the originals being fully retained.</p> <p>For the curious a few PROOF copies of KENSINGTON: <span class="smcap">Picturesque And Historical</span> at five guineas, bound in full morocco, have painted in water-colours on the front, under the gilt edges of the leaves, a couple of Kensington views, which until the leaves are bent back at an angle, are invisible.</p> </div> <hr style="width: 45%;" /> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</SPAN></span> <p><b>In the Press.]</b></p> <p><big><big><b>Through England on a Side-saddle</b></big></big> in the Time of William and Mary: being the Diary of Celia Fiennes. With an explanatory Introduction by The Hon. Mrs. Griffiths. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><b>In the Press.]</b></p> <p><big><big><b>Tales from the Lands of Nuts and</b></big></big> Grapes: (Spanish &amp; Portuguese Folklore). By Charles Sellers. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>2s. 6d.</i></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>People we Meet:</b></big></big> By F. Rideal. Illustrated by Harry Parkes. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>One Shilling.</i></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>The Baglioni:</b></big></big> A <span class="smcap">Tragedy</span>. By Fairfax L. Cartwright. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>Three-and-Sixpence.</i></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</SPAN></span> <p><b>In the Press.]</b></p> <p><big><big><b>The Bairns' Annual</b></big></big> (for 1888-9) of Old-Fashioned Tales. Edited by Alice Corkran. Illustrated with a large number of original wooden blocks. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>One Shilling.</i></p> <p><small>A delightful <i>m&eacute;lange</i> of the old-fashioned fairy tales that delighted our grand-parents when bairns.</small></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>A Season in Egypt:</b></big></big> By W. M. Flinders Petrie. Illustrated. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>12s.</i></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>A Book of Jousts:</b></big></big> Edited by James M. Lowry, Author of "The Keys at Home," &amp;c. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>One Shilling.</i></p> <p><small>..."exceedingly clever humorous verses...we have not often seen a brighter little volume of its kind." <i>Manchester Examiner.</i></small></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>The Grievances between Authors</b></big></big> and Publishers, being the report of the Conferences of the Incorporated Society of Authors held in Willis's Rooms, in March, 1887, with Additional Matter and Summary. LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>Two Shillings.</i></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</SPAN></span> <p><big><big><b>Sonnets:</b></big></big> (Revised and Enlarged Edition.) By Emily Pfeiffer, Author of "Gerard's Monument," "Under the Aspens," "The Rhyme of the Lady of the Rock," "Flying Leaves from East and West," &amp;c., &amp;c., LONDON: Field &amp; Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>Six Shillings</i>.</p> <p><small>"They are, to our mind, among the finest in the language."&mdash;<i>Spectator</i>.</small></p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <p><big><big><b>The Signs of Old Lombard Street:</b></big></big> By F. G. Hilton Price, F.S.A., with Sixty full-page 4to. Illustrations by James West. LONDON: Field and Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E. C.</p> <p class="right">[<i>One Guinea</i>.</p> <hr style='width: 45%;' /> <h5>"With bad paper, one's Best is impossible."</h5> <p><big><big><b>The Author's Paper Pad</b></big></big> (Issued by the Proprietors of The Leadenhall Press.)<br/> Contains, in block form, fifty sheets of paper, fibrous and difficult to tear as a piece of linen, over which&mdash;being of unusual but not painful smoothness&mdash;the pen slips with perfect freedom. Easily detachable, the size of the sheets is about 7&frac12; x 8&frac34; in., and the price is only that usually charged for common scribbling paper. THE AUTHOR'S PAPER PAD may be comfortably used, whether at the desk, held in the hand, or resting on the knee. As being most convenient for both author and compositor, the paper is ruled the narrow way, and of course on one side only.&mdash;<i>Sixpence each, 5/- per dozen, ruled or plain.</i></p> <hr style="width: 45%;" /> <h5>The Leadenhall Press, 50, Leadenhall Press, E. C.</h5> <br/><br/> <SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />