Friendship

I.

A plague upon the people fell,
A famine after laid them low;
Then thorpe and byre arose in fire,
For on them brake the sudden foe;
So thick they died the people cried,
‘The Gods are moved against the land.’
The Priest in horror about his altar
To Thor and Odin lifted a hand:
‘Help us from famine
And plague and strife!
What would you have of us?
Human life?
Were it our nearest,
Were it our dearest,–
Answer, O answer!–
We give you his life.’


II.

But still the foeman spoil’d and burn’d,
And cattle died, and deer in wood,
And bird in air, and fishes turn’d
And whiten’d all the rolling flood;
And dead men lay all over the way,
Or down in a furrow scathed with flame;
And ever and aye the Priesthood m...

        In the midnight of darkness and terror,
    When I would grope nearer to God,
        With my back to a record of error
    And the highway of sin I have trod,
        There come to me shapes I would banish -
    The shapes of the deeds I have done;
        And I pray and I plead till they vanish -
    All vanish and leave me, save one.

        That one with a smile like the splendor
    Of the sun in the middle-day skies -
        That one with a spell that is tender -
    That one with a dream in her eyes -
        Cometh close, in her rare Southern beauty,
    Her languor, her indolent grace;
        And my soul turns its back on its duty,
    To live in the light of her face.

        She touches my cheek, and I quiver -
    I tremb...

("De quel non te nommer?")

[PRELUDE, a, Oct. 20, 1835.]


How shall I note thee, line of troubled years,
Which mark existence in our little span?
One constant twilight in the heaven appears -
One constant twilight in the mind of man!

Creed, hope, anticipation and despair,
Are but a mingling, as of day and night;
The globe, surrounded by deceptive air,
Is all enveloped in the same half-light.

And voice is deadened by the evening breeze,
The shepherd's song, or maiden's in her bower,
Mix with the rustling of the neighboring trees,
Within whose foliage is lulled the power.

Yet all unites! The winding path that leads
Thro' fields where verdure meets the trav'ller's eye.
The river's margin, blurred with wavy reeds,
The ...

Rapido fiume che d' alpestra vena.

JOURNEYING ALONG THE RHONE TO AVIGNON, PETRARCH BIDS THE RIVER KISS LAURA'S HAND, AS IT WILL ARRIVE AT HER DWELLING BEFORE HIM.


    Impetuous flood, that from the Alps' rude head,
Eating around thee, dost thy name obtain;[V]
Anxious like me both night and day to gain
Where thee pure nature, and me love doth lead;
Pour on: thy course nor sleep nor toils impede;
Yet, ere thou pay'st thy tribute to the main,
Oh, tarry where most verdant looks the plain,
Where most serenity the skies doth spread!
There beams my radiant sun of cheering ray,
Which deck thy left banks, and gems o'er with flowers;
E'en now, vain thought! perhaps she chides my stay:
Kiss then her feet, her hand so beauteous fair;
In place of language le...

SPAIN.


I.

It is a lie, their Priests, their Pope,
Their Saints, their . . . all they fear or hope
Are lies, and lies, there! through my door
And ceiling, there! and walls and floor,
There, lies, they lie, shall still be hurled
Till spite of them I reach the world!

II.

You think Priests just and holy men!
Before they put me in this den
I was a human creature too,
With flesh and blood like one of you,
A girl that laughed in beauty’s pride
Like lilies in your world outside.

III.

I had a lover, shame avaunt!
This poor wrenched body, grim and gaunt,
Was kissed all over till it burned,
By lips the truest, love e’er turned
His heart’s own tint: one night they kissed
My soul out in a burning mis...

Hope, art thou true, or doest thou flatter me?
Doth Stella now beginne with piteous eye
The ruines of her conquest to espie?
Will she take time before all wracked be?
Her eyes-speech is translated thus by thee,
But failst thou not in phrases so heau'nly hye?
Looke on againe, the faire text better prie;
What blushing notes dost thou in Margent see?
What sighes stolne out, or kild before full-borne?
Hast thou found such and such-like arguments,
Or art thou else to comfort me forsworne?
Well, how-so thou interpret the contents,
I am resolu'd thy errour to maintaine,
Rather then by more truth to get more paine.

    Old Mother Goose, when
    She wanted to wander,
    Would ride through the air
    On a very fine gander.

    Mother Goose had a house,
    'Twas built in a wood,
    Where an owl at the door
    For sentinel stood.

    This is her son Jack,
    A plain-looking lad,
    He is not very good,
    Nor yet very bad.

    She sent him to market,
    A live goose he bought,
    Here, mother, says he,
    It will not go for nought.

    Jack's goose and her gander,
    Grew very fond;
    They'd both eat together,
    Or swim in one pond.

    Jack found one morning,
    As I have been told,
    His goose had laid him
    An egg of pure gold.

    Jack rode to his mother,
    The news f...

We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe.
    Our fins are stout,
    Our tails are out,
As through the seas we go.

Fish, Fish, we are fish with red gills;
Naught disturbs us, our blood is at zero:
We are buoyant because of our bags,
Being many, each fish is a hero.
We care not what is it, this life
That we follow, this phantom unknown;
To swim, it's exceedingly pleasant,--
So swim away, making a foam.
This strange looking thing by our side,
Not for safety, around it we flee:--
Its shadow's so shady, that's all,--
We only swim under its lee.
And as for the eels there above,
And as for the fowls of the air,
We care not for them nor their ways,
As we cheerily glide afar!

We fish, we fish, we merri...

Republicans of differing views
Are pro or con protection;
If that's the issue they would choose,
Why, we have no objection.
The issue we propose concerns
Our hearts and homes more nearly:
A wife to whom the nation turns
And venerates so dearly.
So, confident of what shall be,
Our gallant host advances,
Giving three cheers for Grover C.
And three times three for Frances!

So gentle is that honored dame,
And fair beyond all telling,
The very mention of her name
Sets every breast to swelling.
She wears no mortal crown of gold--
No courtiers fawn around her--
But with their love young hearts and old
In loyalty have crowned her--
And so with Grover and his bride
We're proud to take our chances,
And it's three times three for the t...

    This lonely hill to me was ever dear,
    This hedge, which shuts from view so large a part
    Of the remote horizon. As I sit
    And gaze, absorbed, I in my thought conceive
    The boundless spaces that beyond it range,
    The silence supernatural, and rest
    Profound; and for a moment I am calm.
    And as I listen to the wind, that through
    These trees is murmuring, its plaintive voice
    I with that infinite compare;
    And things eternal I recall, and all
    The seasons dead, and this, that round me lives,
    And utters its complaint. Thus wandering
    My thought in this immensity is drowned;
    And sweet to me is shipwreck on this sea.

Part First

Ancient
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied wi' his ee;
And there he saw a lady bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her skirt was o the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o the velvet fyne,
At ilka tett of her horse's mane
Hang fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pulld aff his cap,
And louted low down to his knee:
"All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth I never did see."

"O no, O no, Thomas," she said,
"That name does not belang to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.

"Harp and carp, Thomas," she said,
"Harp and carp, along wi' me,
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be!"

        A picture hung in a public hall,
        And it was much admired by all,
        Painted by a true artist's hand,
        The subject it was truly grand.

        Its fame o'er the whole world resounds,
        Valued at ten thousand pounds,
        Beauteous lady none 'ere passed her,
        She was the work of an old master.

        At last a critic keen did gaze
        And saw 'twas work of modern days,
        Then quick it was pronounced a daub,
        And artist but a money grab.

        The true, the noble and the grand,
        Will lend to struggling helping hand,
        Then let no man of dues be shorn,
        If he a subject doth adorn.

        When in this room I turn in pondering pace
        And find thine eyes upon me where I stand,
        Led on, as by Enemo's silken strand,
        I come and gaze and gaze upon thy face.

        Framed round by silence, poised on pearl-white grace
        Of curving throat, too sweet for beaded band,
        It seems as if some wizard's magic wand
        Had wrought thee for the love of all the race.

        Dear face, that will not turn about to see
        The tulips, glorying in the casement sun,
        Or, other days, the drizzled raindrops run

        Down the damp walls, but follow only me,
        Would that Pygmalion's goddess might be won
        To change this lifeless image into thee!

Wor yo ivver at Horton Tide?
It wor thear 'at aw won mi bride;
An the joy o' mi life,
Is mi dear little wife,
An we've three little childer beside.

Aw wor donn'd in a new suit o'clooas,
A cigar wor stuck under mi nooas,
Aw set aght for a spree,
An some frolics to see,
Full o' fun throo mi heead to mi tooas.

Aw met Lijah an Amos, an Bill,
An ov coorse wi' each one aw'd a gill;
Till aw felt rayther mazy,
But net at all crazy,
For aw didn't goa in for mi fill.

As a lad aw'd been bashful an shy,
An aw blushed if a woman went by,
But this day bi gooid luck,
Aw felt chock full o' pluck,
Soa to leet on aw sattled to try.

As aw wandered abaat along th' street,
Who, ov all i' this world should aw meet!
But Mary o' J...

When the summer gave us a longer day,
And the leaves were thickest, I went away:
Like an isle, through dark clouds, of the infinite blue,
Was that summer-ramble from London and you.

It was but one burst into life and air,
One backward glance on the skirts of care,
A height on the hills with the smoke below--
And the joy that came quickly was quick to go.

But I know and I cannot forget so soon
How the Earth is shone on by Sun and Moon;
How the clouds hide the mountains, and how they move
When the morning sunshine lies warm above.

I know how the waters fall and run
In the rocks and the heather, away from the sun;
How they hang like garlands on all hill-sides,
And are the land's music, those crystal tides.

I know how they gather in valleys...

Honour to you who sit
Near to the well of wit,
And drink your fill of it!

Glory and worship be
To you, sweet Maids, thrice three,
Who still inspire me;

And teach me how to sing
Unto the lyric string,
My measures ravishing!

Then, while I sing your praise,
My priest-hood crown with bays
Green to the end of days!

GIVE us your hand, Mr. Lawyer: how do you do to-day?

"GIVE US YOUR HAND, MR. LAWYER: HOW DO YOU DO TO-DAY?"

You drew up that paper--I s'pose you want your pay.
Don't cut down your figures; make it an X or a V;
For that 'ere written agreement was just the makin' of me.

Goin' home that evenin' I tell you I was blue,
Thinkin' of all my troubles, and what I was goin' to do;
And if my hosses hadn't been the steadiest team alive,
They'd 've tipped me over, certain, for I couldn't see where to drive.

No--for I was laborin' under a heavy load;
No--for I was travelin' an entirely different road;
For I was a-tracin' over the path of our lives ag'in,
And seein' where we missed the way, and where we might have been.

And many a corner we'd turned that just t...

    1
    The moon hummed like a refrigerator,
    light thru shadows
    - the solitude of dusk closing in;
    black scars visible across
    the moon's face shaped like
    mountainous hands, all
    silent, the occasional leaf rustling.

    2
    My fork at plate's edge listening,
    listening to the haunting one eye
    on the staircase wall white
    as the numb light outside palest night.
    Caught off-guard, the musty settee
    and armchair acting as hallucinogen
    to the nostril, the calendar of events
    playing ghostly tag with sheer curtains
    hovering, shroud-like, on the family Bible
    big and brown as the Lord's foot stool.

    3
    The unravelling tale slowly much as
    thick yarn with a kitten