New Poems | Page 3

that hath not, shall there not be taken
E'en that he hath,
when he deserts the strife?
Life left by all life's benefits forsaken,
O
keep the promise, Lord, and take the life.
TO THE COMMISSIONERS OF NORTHERN LIGHTS
I SEND to you, commissioners,
A paper that may please ye, sirs

(For troth they say it might be worse
An' I believe't)
And on your
business lay my curse
Before I leav't.

I thocht I'd serve wi' you, sirs, yince,
But I've thocht better of it since;

The maitter I will nowise mince,
But tell ye true:
I'll service wi'
some ither prince,
An' no wi' you.
I've no been very deep, ye'll think,
Cam' delicately to the brink
An'
when the water gart me shrink
Straucht took the rue,
An' didna
stoop my fill to drink -
I own it true.
I kent on cape and isle, a light
Burnt fair an' clearly ilka night;
But
at the service I took fright,
As sune's I saw,
An' being still a
neophite
Gaed straucht awa'.
Anither course I now begin,
The weeg I'll cairry for my sin,
The
court my voice shall echo in,
An' - wha can tell? -
Some ither day I
may be yin
O' you mysel'.
THE RELIC TAKEN, WHAT AVAILS THE SHRINE?
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine?
The locket, pictureless? O
heart of mine,
Art thou not worse than that,
Still warm, a vacant
nest where love once sat?
Her image nestled closer at my heart
Than cherished memories,
healed every smart
And warmed it more than wine
Or the full
summer sun in noon-day shine.
This was the little weather gleam that lit
The cloudy promontories -
the real charm was
That gilded hills and woods
And walked beside
me thro' the solitudes.
The sun is set. My heart is widowed now
Of that companion-thought.
Alone I plough
The seas of life, and trace
A separate furrow far
from her and grace.
ABOUT THE SHELTERED GARDEN GROUND

ABOUT the sheltered garden ground
The trees stand strangely still.

The vale ne'er seemed so deep before,
Nor yet so high the hill.
An awful sense of quietness,
A fulness of repose,
Breathes from the
dewy garden-lawns,
The silent garden rows.
As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse
Heard far across a plain,
A
nearer knowledge of great thoughts
Thrills vaguely through my brain.
I lean my head upon my arm,
My heart's too full to think;
Like the
roar of seas, upon my heart
Doth the morning stillness sink.
AFTER READING "ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA"
AS when the hunt by holt and field
Drives on with horn and strife,

Hunger of hopeless things pursues
Our spirits throughout life.
The sea's roar fills us aching full
Of objectless desire -
The sea's
roar, and the white moon-shine,
And the reddening of the fire.
Who talks to me of reason now?
It would be more delight
To have
died in Cleopatra's arms
Than be alive to-night.
I KNOW NOT HOW, BUT AS I COUNT
I KNOW not how, but as I count
The beads of former years,
Old
laughter catches in my throat
With the very feel of tears.
SPRING SONG
THE air was full of sun and birds,
The fresh air sparkled clearly.

Remembrance wakened in my heart
And I knew I loved her dearly.
The fallows and the leafless trees
And all my spirit tingled.
My
earliest thought of love, and Spring's
First puff of perfume mingled.

In my still heart the thoughts awoke,
Came lone by lone together -

Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love
A mere affair of weather?
THE SUMMER SUN SHONE ROUND ME
THE summer sun shone round me,
The folded valley lay
In a
stream of sun and odour,
That sultry summer day.
The tall trees stood in the sunlight
As still as still could be,
But the
deep grass sighed and rustled
And bowed and beckoned me.
The deep grass moved and whispered
And bowed and brushed my
face.
It whispered in the sunshine:
"The winter comes apace."
YOU LOOKED SO TEMPTING IN THE PEW
YOU looked so tempting in the pew,
You looked so sly and calm -

My trembling fingers played with yours
As both looked out the
Psalm.
Your heart beat hard against my arm,
My foot to yours was set,

Your loosened ringlet burned my cheek
Whenever they two met.
O little, little we hearkened, dear,
And little, little cared,
Although
the parson sermonised,
The congregation stared.
LOVE'S VICISSITUDES
AS Love and Hope together
Walk by me for a while,
Link-armed
the ways they travel
For many a pleasant mile -
Link-armed and
dumb they travel,
They sing not, but they smile.
Hope leaving, Love commences
To practise on the lute;
And as he
sings and travels
With lingering, laggard foot,
Despair plays
obligato
The sentimental flute.

Until in singing garments
Comes royally, at call -
Comes
limber-hipped Indiff'rence
Free stepping, straight and tall -
Comes
singing and lamenting,
The sweetest pipe of all.
DUDDINGSTONE
WITH caws and chirrupings, the woods
In this thin sun rejoice.
The
Psalm seems but the little kirk
That sings with its own voice.
The cloud-rifts share their amber light
With the surface of the mere -

I think the very stones are glad
To feel each other near.
Once more my whole heart leaps and swells
And gushes o'er with
glee;
The fingers of the sun and shade
Touch music stops in me.
Now fancy