Happiness

I.

There are fairies, bright of eye,
Who the wildflowers' warders are:
Ouphes that chase the firefly;
Elves that ride the shooting star;
Fays who in a cobweb lie,
Swinging on a moonbeam-bar,
Or who harness bumblebees,
Grumbling on the clover leas,
To a blossom or a breeze,
That's their fairy car.
If you care, you too may see
There are fairies verily
There are fairies.

II.

There are fairies. I could swear
I have seen them busy where
Rose leaves loose their scented hair,
In the moonlight weaving weaving
Out of starshine and the dew
Glinting gown and shimmering shoe;
Or within a glow-worm lair
From the dark earth slowly heaving
Mushrooms whiter than the moon,
On whose tops they sit and croon,
With the...

Go work in my vineyard, said the Lord,
    And gather the bruised grain;
But the reapers had left the stubble bare,
    And I trod the soil in pain.

The fields of my Lord are wide and broad,
    He has pastures fair and green,
And vineyards that drink the golden light
    Which flows from the sun's bright sheen.

I heard the joy of the reapers' song,
    As they gathered golden grain;
Then wearily turned unto my task,
    With a lonely sense of pain.

Sadly I turned from the sun's fierce glare,
    And sought the quiet shade,
And over my dim and weary eyes
    Sleep's peaceful fingers strayed.

I dreamed I joined with a restless throng,
    Eager for pleasure and gain;
But ever and anon a stumbler fell,
    And uttered a cry...

    We crawled about the nursery
        In tenderest years in tether,
    At six we waded in the sea
        And caught our colds together.

    At ten we practised playing at
        A kind of heathen cricket,
    A croquet mallet was the bat,
        The Squire's old hat the wicket.

    At twelve, the cricket waxing slow,
        With home-made bow and arrow
    We took to shooting--once I know
        I all but hit a sparrow.

    She took birds' nests from easy trees,
        I climbed the oaks and ashes,
    'Twas deadly work for hands and knees,
        Deplorable for sashes.

    At hide and seek one summer day
        We played in merry laughter,
    'Twas then she hid her heart away,
        I never found it after....

The wind-harp has music it moans to the tree,
And so has the shell that complains to the sea,
The lark that sings merrily over the lea,
        The reed of the rude shepherd boy!
We revel in music when day has begun,
When rock-fountains gush into glee as they run,
And stars of the morn sing their hymns to the sun,
        Who brightens the hill-tops with joy!

The spirit of melody floats in the air,
Her instruments tuning to harmony there,
Our senses beguiling from sorrow and care,
        In blessings sent down from above!
But Nature has music far more to my choice--
And all in her exquisite changes rejoice!
No tones thrill my heart like the dear human voice
        When breathed by the being I love!

(For Amelia Josephine Burr)



The road is wide and the stars are out and the breath of the night is sweet,
And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet.
But I'm glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my face,
And to leave the splendour of out-of-doors for a human dwelling place.

I never have seen a vagabond who really liked to roam
All up and down the streets of the world and not to have a home:
The tramp who slept in your barn last night and left at break of day
Will wander only until he finds another place to stay.

A gypsy-man will sleep in his cart with canvas overhead;
Or else he'll go into his tent when it is time for bed.
He'll sit on the grass and take his ease so long as the sun is high,
But when it is dark he wa...

I nothing did all yesterday
But listen to the singing rain
On roof and weeping window-pane,
And, 'whiles I'd watch the flying spray
And smoking breakers in the bay:
Nothing but this did I all day -

Save turn anon to trim the fire
With a new log, and mark it roar
And flame with yellow tongues for more
To feed its mystical desire.
No other comrades save these three,
The fire, the rain, and the wild sea,

All day from morn till night had I -
Yea! and the wind, with fitful cry,
Like a hound whining at the door.

Yet seemed it, as to sleep I turned,
Pausing a little while to pray,
That not mis-spent had been the day;
That I had somehow wisdom learned
From those wild waters in the bay,
And from the fire as it burned;
And that...

O thou, by Nature taught
To breathe her genuine thought
In numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong;
Who first on mountains wild,
In Fancy, loveliest child,
Thy babe, or Pleasure's, nurs'd the pow'rs of song!

Thou, who with hermit heart,
Disdain'st the wealth of art,
And gauds, and pageant weeds, and trailing pall,
But com'st a decent maid,
In Attic robe array'd,
O chaste, unboastful nymph, to thee I call!

By all the honey'd store
On Hybla's thymy shore;
By all her blooms, and mingled murmurs dear;
By her whose lovelorn woe
In ev'ning musings slow
Sooth'd sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear:

By old Cephisus deep,
Who spread his wavy sweep
In warbled wand'rings round thy green retreat;
On whose enamell'd side,
When ho...

    At times thy image to my mind returns,
    Aspasia. In the crowded streets it gleams
    Upon me, for an instant, as I pass,
    In other faces; or in lonely fields,
    At noon-tide bright, beneath the silent stars,
    With sudden and with startling vividness,
    As if awakened by sweet harmony,
    The splendid vision rises in my soul.
    How worshipped once, ye gods, what a delight
    To me, what torture, too! Nor do I e'er
    The odor of the flowery fields inhale,
    Or perfume of the gardens of the town,
    That I recall thee not, as on that day,
    When in thy sumptuous rooms, so redolent
    Of all the fragrant flowers of the spring,
    Arrayed in robe of violet hue, thy form
    Angelic I beheld, as it reclined
    On dainty cushions ...

In Nature's temple living pillars rise,
And words are murmured none have understood,
And man must wander through a tangled wood
Of symbols watching him with friendly eyes.

As long-drawn echoes heard far-off and dim
Mingle to one deep sound and fade away;
Vast as the night and brilliant as the day,
Colour and sound and perfume speak to him.

Some perfumes are as fragrant as a child,
Sweet as the sound of hautboys, meadow-green;
Others, corrupted, rich, exultant, wild,

Have all the expansion of things infinite:
As amber, incense, musk, and benzoin,
Which sing the sense's and the soul's delight.

Fair now is the springtide, now earth lies beholding
With the eyes of a lover, the face of the sun;
Long lasteth the daylight, and hope is enfolding
The green-growing acres with increase begun.

Now sweet, sweet it is through the land to be straying
'Mid the birds and the blossoms and the beasts of the field;
Love mingles with love, and no evil is weighing
On thy heart or mine, where all sorrow is healed.

From township to township, o'er down and by tillage
Fair, far have we wandered and long was the day;
But now cometh eve at the end of the village,
Where over the grey wall the church riseth grey.

There is wind in the twilight; in the white road before us
The straw from the ox-yard is blowing about;
The moon's rim is rising, a star glitters o'er us,

    Spring, among her sylvan shades,
    And the gladness of her glades,
        Once in dreamy hours was straying,
    Where sweet Music with her throngs
    Of glad melodies and songs
        In the happy vales was playing.

    Pan beheld the fairy maids
    As they gamboled in the shades,
        And he swore they should not sever.
    But that o'er the blooming land,
    Heart to heart and hand in hand,
        They should wander on forever.

    Thus when come the gentle days
    O'er the wildwood's tangled ways,
        There is found no gloomy weather;
    For among the leafy bowers
    And the valleys bright with flowers
        Spring and Music walk together!

O, heavenly born! in deepest dells
If fairest science ever dwells
    Beneath the mossy cave;
Indulge the verdure of the woods,
With azure beauty gild the floods,
    And flowery carpets lave.

For, Melancholy ever reigns
Delighted in the sylvan scenes
    With scientific light;
While Dian, huntress of the vales,
Seeks lulling sounds and fanning gales,
    Though wrapt from mortal sight.

Yet, goddess, yet the way explore
With magic rites and heathen lore
    Obstructed and depress'd;
Till Wisdom give the sacred Nine,
Untaught, not uninspired, to shine,
    By Reason's power redress'd.

When Solon and Lycurgus taught
To moralize the human thought
    Of mad opinion's maze,
To erring zeal they gave new laws,
Thy char...

I

Come up, dear chosen morning, come,
Blessing the air with light,
And bid the sky repent of being dark:
Let all the spaces round the world be white,
And give the earth her green again.
Into new hours of beautiful delight,
Out of the shadow where she has lain,
Bring the earth awake for glee,
Shining with dews as fresh and clear
As my beloved's voice upon the air.
For now, O morning chosen of all days, on thee
A wondrous duty lies:
There was an evening that did loveliness foretell;
Thence upon thee, O chosen morn, it fell
To fashion into perfect destiny
The radiant prophecy.
For in an evening of young moon, that went
Filling the moist air with a rosy fire,
I and my beloved knew our love;
And knew that thou, O morning, wouldst arise

Dark and yet darker my day's clouded o'er;
Are its bright joys all fled, and its sunshine no more?
I look to the skies for the bright bow in vain,
For constantly "clouds return after the rain."

Must it always be thus, peace banished forever,
And joy to this sad heart returned again never?
I long for the rest that I cannot obtain,
For the clouds, so much dreaded, return after rain.

Is there not in this wide world one spot that is blessed
With exemption from suffering, where one may find rest;
Where sickness and sorrow no entranpe can gain,
And the clouds do not return after the rain?

Ah! deceive not thyself by a vain hope like this,
Nor expect in this world to enjoy lasting peace:
But bow with submission to God's holy will,
For the hand that afflic...

I

The Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo!
That instant, startled by the shock,
The Buzzard mounted from the rock
Deliberate and slow:
Lord of the air, he took his flight;
Oh! could he on that woeful night
Have lent his wing, my Brother dear,
For one poor moment's space to Thee,
And all who struggled with the Sea,
When safety was so near.

II

Thus in the weakness of my heart
I spoke (but let that pang be still)
When rising from the rock at will,
I saw the Bird depart.
And let me calmly bless the Power
That meets me in this unknown Flower.
Affecting type of him I mourn!
With calmness suffer and believe,
And grieve, and know that I must grieve,
Not cheerless, though forlorn.

III

Here did we stop; and he...

I'M now disposed to give a pretty tale;
Love laughs at what I've sworn and will prevail;
Men, gods, and all, his mighty influence know,
And full obedience to the urchin show.
In future when I celebrate his flame,
Expressions not so warm will be my aim;
I would not willingly abuses plant,
But rather let my writings spirit want.
If in these verses I around should twirl,
Some wily knave and easy simple girl,
'Tis with intention in the breast to place;
On such occasions, dread of dire disgrace;
The mind to open, and the sex to set
Upon their guard 'gainst snares so often met.
Gross ignorance a thousand has misled,
For one that has been hurt by what I've said.

I'VE read that once, an orator renowned
In Greece, where arts superior then were found,
By...

For Soldiers lost in Ocean Transports

When, after storms that woodlands rue,
To valleys comes atoning dawn,
The robins blithe their orchard-sports renew;
And meadow-larks, no more withdrawn
Caroling fly in the languid blue;
The while, from many a hid recess,
Alert to partake the blessedness,
The pouring mites their airy dance pursue.
So, after ocean's ghastly gales,
When laughing light of hoyden morning breaks,
    Every finny hider wakes--
From vaults profound swims up with
glittering scales;
Through the delightsome sea he sails,
With shoals of shining tiny things
Frolic on every wave that flings
Against the prow its showery spray;
All creatures joying in the morn,
Save them forever from joyance torn,
Whose bark was lost where...

    I

    A voice cried to me in a dawn of dreams,
    Saying, "Make haste: the webs of death and birth
    Are brushed away, and all the threads of earth
    Wear to the breaking; spaceward gleams
    Thine ancient pathway of the suns,
    Whose flame is part of thee;
    And deeps outreach immutably
    Whose largeness runs
    Through all thy spirit's mystery.
    Go forth, and tread unharmed the blaze
    Of stars where through thou camest in old days;
    Pierce without fear each vast
    Whose hugeness crushed thee not within the past.
    A hand strikes off the chains of Time,
    A hand swings back the door of years;
    Now fall earth's bonds of gladness and of tears,
    And opens the strait dream to space sublime."


    II...