Poems by the Way | Page 6

DAYS.
Each eve earth falleth down the dark,
As though its hope were o'er;

Yet lurks the sun when day is done
Behind to-morrow's door.
Grey grows the dawn while men-folk sleep,
Unseen spreads on the
light,
Till the thrush sings to the coloured things,
And earth forgets
the night.
No otherwise wends on our Hope:
E'en as a tale that's told
Are fair
lives lost, and all the cost
Of wise and true and bold.
We've toiled and failed; we spake the word;
None hearkened; dumb
we lie;
Our Hope is dead, the seed we spread
Fell o'er the earth to
die.
What's this? For joy our hearts stand still,
And life is loved and dear,

The lost and found the Cause hath crowned,
The Day of Days is
here.
TO THE MUSE OF THE NORTH.
O muse that swayest the sad Northern Song,
Thy right hand full of
smiting & of wrong,
Thy left hand holding pity; & thy breast

Heaving with hope of that so certain rest:
Thou, with the grey eyes
kind and unafraid,
The soft lips trembling not, though they have said

The doom of the World and those that dwell therein.
The lips that
smile not though thy children win
The fated Love that draws the fated
Death.
O, borne adown the fresh stream of thy breath,
Let some
word reach my ears and touch my heart,
That, if it may be, I may
have a part
In that great sorrow of thy children dead
That vexed the
brow, and bowed adown the head,
Whitened the hair, made life a

wondrous dream,
And death the murmur of a restful stream,
But
left no stain upon those souls of thine
Whose greatness through the
tangled world doth shine.
O Mother, and Love and Sister all in one,

Come thou; for sure I am enough alone
That thou thine arms about
my heart shouldst throw,
And wrap me in the grief of long ago.
OF THE THREE SEEKERS.
There met three knights on the woodland way,
And the first was clad
in silk array:
The second was dight in iron and steel,
But the third
was rags from head to heel.
"Lo, now is the year and the day come
round
When we must tell what we have found."
The first said: "I
have found a king
Who grudgeth no gift of anything."
The second
said: "I have found a knight
Who hath never turned his back in fight."

But the third said: "I have found a love
That Time and the World
shall never move."
Whither away to win good cheer?
"With me," said the first, "for my
king is near."
So to the King they went their ways;
But there was a
change of times and days.
"What men are ye," the great King said,

"That ye should eat my children's bread?
My waste has fed full many
a store,
And mocking and grudge have I gained therefore.
Whatever
waneth as days wax old,
Full worthy to win are goods and gold."
Whither away to win good cheer?
"With me," said the second, "my
knight is near."
So to the knight they went their ways,
But there was
a change of times and days.
He dwelt in castle sure and strong,
For
fear lest aught should do him wrong.
Guards by gate and hall there
were,
And folk went in and out in fear.
When he heard the mouse
run in the wall,
"Hist!" he said, "what next shall befal?
Draw not
near, speak under your breath,
For all new-corners tell of death.


Bring me no song nor minstrelsy,
Round death it babbleth still," said
he.
"And what is fame and the praise of men,
When lost life cometh
not again?"

Whither away to seek good cheer?
"Ah me!" said the third, "that my
love were anear!
Were the world as little as it is wide,
In a happy
house should ye abide.
Were the world as kind as it is hard,
Ye
should behold a fair reward."
So far by high and low have they gone,
They have come to a waste
was rock and stone.
But lo, from the waste, a company
Full well
bedight came riding by;
And in the midst, a queen, so fair,
That
God wrought well in making her.
The first and second knights abode

To gaze upon her as she rode,
Forth passed the third with head
down bent,
And stumbling ever as he went.
His shoulder brushed
her saddle-bow;
He trembled with his head hung low.
His hand
brushed o'er her golden gown,
As on the waste he fell adown.
So
swift to earth her feet she set,
It seemed that there her arms he met.

His lips that looked the stone to meet
Were on her trembling lips and
sweet.
Softly she kissed him cheek and chin,
His mouth her many
tears drank in.
"Where would'st thou wander, love," she said,
"Now
I have drawn thee from the dead?"
"I go my ways," he said, "and
thine
Have nought to do with grief and pine."
"All ways are one
way now," she said,
"Since I have drawn thee from the dead."
Said
he, "But I must seek again
Where first I met thee in thy pain:
I am
not clad so fair," said he,
"But yet the old hurts thou may'st see.

And thou, but for thy gown of gold,
A piteous tale of