English Poems | Page 7

will he bury it away?In some old drawer with other mummy-flowers?
Nay, but I wrong thee, dear one, thinking so.?My boy, my love, my poet! Nay, I know?Thy lonely room, tomb-like to thee as mine,?Tomb-like as tomb of some returning ghost?Seems only bright about my lily-flower.?And, mayhap, while I wrong thee thus in thought?Thou bendest o'er it, feigning for some ease?Of parted ache conceits of poet-wit?On petal and on stamen--let me try!?If lilies be alike thine is as this,?I wonder if thy reading tallies too.
Six petals with a dewdrop in their heart,?Six pure brave years, an ivory cup of tears;?Six pearly-pillared stamens golden-crowned?Growing from out the dewdrop, and a seventh?Soaring alone trilobed and mystic green;?Six pearl-bright years aflower with gold of joy,?Sprung from the heart of those brave tear-fed years:?But what that seventh single stamen is?My little wit must leave for thee to tell.
But neither poet nor a sibyl thou!?What brave conceit had he, my poet, built;?No jugglery of numbers that mean nought,?That can mean nought for ever, unto us.
XV
REGRET
One asked of regret,?And I made reply:?To have held the bird,?And let it fly;?To have seen the star?For a moment nigh,?And lost it?Through a slothful eye;?To have plucked the flower?And cast it by;?To have one only hope--?To die.
XVI
LOVE AFAR
Love, art thou lonely to-day??Lost love that I never see,?Love that, come noon or come night,?Comes never to me;?Love that I used to meet?In the hidden past, in the land?Of forbidden sweet.
Love! do you never miss?The old light in the days??Does a hand?Come and touch thee at whiles?Like the wand of old smiles,?Like the breath of old bliss??Or hast thou forgot,?And is all as if not?
What was it we swore?
'Evermore!?I and Thou,'?Ah, but Fate held the pen
And wrote N?Just before:?So that now,?See, it stands,?Our seals and our hands,
'I and Thou,?Nevermore!'
We said 'It is best!'?And then, dear, I went?And returned not again.?Forgive that I stir,?Like a breath in thy hair,?The old pain,?'Twas unmeant.?I will strive, I will wrest?Iron peace--it is best.
But, O for thy hand?Just to hold for a space,?For a moment to stand?In the light of thy face;?Translate Then to Now,?To hear 'Is it Thou?'
And reply?'It is I!'?Then, then I could rest,?Ah, then I could wait
Long and late.
XVII
Canst thou be true across so many miles,?So many days that keep us still apart??Ah, canst thou live upon remembered smiles,?And ask no warmer comfort for thy heart?
I call thy name right up into the sky,?Dear name, O surely she shall hear and hark!?Nay, though I toss it singing up so high,?It drops again, like yon returning lark.
O be a dove, dear name, and find her breast,?There croon and croodle all the lonely day;?Go tell her that I love her still the best,?So many days, so many miles, away.
POSTSCRIPT
_So sang young Love in high and holy dream?Of a white Love that hath no earthly taint,?So rapt within his vision he did seem?Less like a boyish singer than a saint.
Ah, Boy, it is a dream for life too high,?It is a bird that hath no feet for earth:?Strange wings, strange eyes, go seek another sky?And find thy fellows of an equal birth.
For many a body-sweet material thing,?What canst thou give us half so dear as these??We would not soar amid the stars to sing,?Warm and content amid the nested trees.
Young Seraph, go and lake thy song to heaven,?We would not grow unhappy with our lot,?Leave us the simple love the earth hath given--?Sing where thou wilt, so that we hear thee not_.
COR CORDIUM
TO MY WIFE, MILDRED
_Dear wife, there is no word in all my songs?But unto thee belongs:?Though I indeed before our true day came?Mistook thy star in many a wandering flame,?Singing to thee in many a fair disguise,?Calling to thee in many another's name,?Before I knew thine everlasting eyes.
Faces that fled me like a hunted fawn?I followed singing, deeming it was Thou,?Seeking this face that on our pillow now?Glimmers behind thy golden hair like dawn,?And, like a setting moon, within my breast?Sinks down each night to rest.
Moon follows moon before the great moon flowers,?Moon of the wild wild honey that is ours;?Long must the tree strive up in leaf and root,?Before it bear the golden-hearted fruit:?And shall great Love at once perfected spring,?Nor grow by steps like any other thing?_
COR CORDIUM
_The lawless love that would not be denied,?The love that waited, and in waiting died,?The love that met and mated, satisfied.
Ah, love, 'twas good to climb forbidden walls,?Who would not follow where his Juliet calls??'Twas good to try and love the angel's way,?With starry souls untainted of the clay;?But, best the love where earth and heaven meet,?The god made flesh and dwelling in us, sweet._
(October 22, 1891.)
THE DESTINED MAID: A PRAYER
_(Chant Royal)_
O MIGHTY Queen, our Lady of the fire,?The light, the music, and the honey, all?Blent in one Power, one passionate Desire?Man calleth Love--'Sweet love,' the blessed?call--:?I