Loneliness

(August 7th, 1657)

Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,
    And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,
Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,
    Across the Bay the squadron homeward came.

Proudly they came, but their pride was the pomp of a funeral at midnight,
    When dreader yet the lonely morrow looms;
Few are the words that are spoken, and faces are gaunt beneath the torchlight
    That does but darken more the nodding plumes.

Low on the field of his fame, past hope lay the Admiral triumphant,
    And fain to rest him after all his pain;
Yet for the love that he bore to his own land, ever unforgotten,
    He prayed to see the western hills again.

Fainter than stars in a sk...

You who are still and white
And cold like stone;
For whom the unfailing light
Is spent and done;

For whom no more the breath
Of dawn, nor evenfall
Nor Spring, nor love, nor death
Matter at all;

Who were so strong and young
And brave and wise,
And on the dark are flung
With darkened eyes;

What ailed young Lucius? Art had vainly tried
To guess his ill, and found herself defied.
The Augur plied his legendary skill;
Useless; the fair young Roman languished still.
His chariot took him every cloudless day
Along the Pincian Hill or Appian Way;
They rubbed his wasted limbs with sulphurous oil,
Oozed from the far-off Orient's heated soil;
They led him tottering down the steamy path
Where bubbling fountains filled the thermal bath;
Borne in his litter to Egeria's cave,
They washed him, shivering, in her icy wave.
They sought all curious herbs and costly stones,
They scraped the moss that grew on dead men's bones,
They tried all cures the votive tablets taught,
Scoured every place whence healing drugs were brought,
O'er Thracian hills his breathless cour...

"Tum porro puer, ut saevis projectus ab undis
Navita, nudus humi jacet, etc." Lucretius.



Like a shipwrecked Sailor tost
By rough waves on a perilous coast,
Lies the Babe, in helplessness
And in tenderest nakedness,
Flung by labouring nature forth
Upon the mercies of the earth.
Can its eyes beseech? no more
Than the hands are free to implore:
Voice but serves for one brief cry;
Plaint was it? or prophecy
Of sorrow that will surely come?
Omen of man's grievous doom!

But, O Mother! by the close
Duly granted to thy throes;
By the silent thanks, now tending
Incense-like to Heaven, descending
Now to mingle and to move
With the gush of earthly love,
As a debt to that frail Creature,
Instrument of struggling Nature

What wonder strikes the curious, while he views
The black ant's city, by a rotten tree,
Or woodland bank! In ignorance we muse:
Pausing, annoy'd,--we know not what we see,
Such government and thought there seem to be;
Some looking on, and urging some to toil,
Dragging their loads of bent-stalks slavishly:
And what's more wonderful, when big loads foil
One ant or two to carry, quickly then
A swarm flock round to help their fellow-men.
Surely they speak a language whisperingly,
Too fine for us to hear; and sure their ways
Prove they have kings and laws, and that they be
Deformed remnants of the Fairy-days.

Las' July - an', I persume
    'Bout as hot
As the ole Gran'-Jury room
    Where they sot! -
Fight 'twixt Mike an' Dock McGriff -
'Pears to me jes' like as if
    I'd a dremp' the whole blame thing -
    Allus ha'nts me roun' the gizzard
    When they're nightmares on the wing,
        An' a feller's blood's jes' friz!
    Seed the row from a to izzard -
    'Cause I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em
        As me an' you is!

Tell you the way it wuz -
    An' I do n't want to see,
Like some fellers does,
    When they 're goern to be
Any kind o' fuss -
On'y makes a rumpus wuss
    Far to interfere
    When their dander's riz -
But I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em
As me an' you is!

I wuz kind o' strayin'
 ...

I.

The rain! the rain! the rain!
    It gushed from the skies and streamed
Like awful tears; and the sick man thought
    How pitiful it seemed!
And he turned his face away,
    And stared at the wall again,
His hopes nigh dead and his heart worn out.
    O the rain! the rain! the rain!



II.

The rain! the rain! the rain!
    And the broad stream brimmed the shores;
And ever the river crept over the reeds
    And the roots of the sycamores:
A corpse swirled by in a drift
    Where the boat had snapt its chain -
And a hoarse-voiced mother shrieked and raved.
    O the rain! the rain! the rain!



III.

The rain! the rain! the rain! -
    Pouring, with never a pause,
Over the fields and the...

Shrewdly you question, Senor, and I fancy
You are no novice. Confess that to little
Of my poor gossip of Mission and Pueblo
You are a stranger!

Am I not right? Ah! believe me, that ever
Since we joined company at the posada
I’ve watched you closely, and pardon an old priest
I’ve caught you smiling!

Smiling to hear an old fellow like me talk
Gossip of pillage and robbers, and even
Air his opinion of law and alcaldes
Like any other!

Now! by that twist of the wrist on the bridle,
By that straight line from the heel to the shoulder,
By that curt speech, nay! nay! no offense, son,
You are a soldier?

No? Then a man of affairs? San Sebastian!
’Twould serve me right if I prattled thus wildly
To say a sheriff? No? just caballero?
...

Oh! never will I leave my love,
My captive soul would sigh to stray,
Tho' seraph-songs its truth to prove,
Call it from earth to heaven to away.

For heaven has deign'd on earth to send
As rich a gift as it can give;
Alas! that mortal bliss must end,
For mortal man must cease to live.

Yet transient would my sorrows be
Should Delia first her breath resign;
Sweet Maid! my soul would follow thee,
For never can it part from thine.

Kanzo Makame, the diver, sturdy and small Japanee,
Seeker of pearls and of pearl-shell down in the depths of the sea,
Trudged o'er the bed of the ocean, searching industriously.

Over the pearl-grounds the lugger drifted, a little white speck:
Joe Nagasaki, the "tender", holding the life-line on deck,
Talked through the rope to the diver, knew when to drift or to check.

Kanzo was king of his lugger, master and diver in one,
Diving wherever it pleased him, taking instructions from none;
Hither and thither he wandered, steering by stars and by sun.

Fearless he was beyond credence, looking at death eye to eye:
This was his formula always, "All man go dead by and by,
S'posing time come no can help it, s'pose time no come, then no die."

Dived in the depths of th...

This myth, of Egyptian origin, formed part of the instruction given to those initiated in the Orphic mysteries, and written versions of it were buried with the dead.


    Hear now, O Soul, the last command of all--
    When thou hast left thine every mortal mark,
    And by the road that lies beyond recall
    Won through the desert of the Burning Dark,
    Thou shalt behold within a garden bright
    A well, beside a cypress ivory-white.

    Still is that well, and in its waters cool
    White, white and windless, sleeps that cypress tree:
    Who drinks but once from out her shadowy pool
    Shall thirst no more to all eternity.
    Forgetting all, by all forgotten clean,
    His soul shall be with that which hath not been.

    But thou, though thou ...

"Hark ye, hark to the winding horn;
Sluggards, awake, and front the morn!
Hark ye, hark to the winding horn;
    The sun's on meadow and mill.
Follow me, hearts that love the chase;
Follow me, feet that keep the pace:
Stirrup to stirrup we ride, we ride,
    We ride by moor and hill."

Huntsman, huntsman, whither away?
What is the quarry afoot to-day?
Huntsman, huntsman, whither away,
    And what the game ye kill?
Is it the deer, that men may dine?
Is it the wolf that tears the kine?
What is the race ye ride, ye ride,
    Ye ride by moor and hill?

"Ask not yet till the day be dead
What is the game that's forward fled,
Ask not yet till the day be dead
    The game we follow still.
An echo it may be, floating past;
A shadow i...

Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nou...

Where run your colts at pasture?
Where hide your mares to breed?
'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap
Or wove Sargasso weed;
By chartless reef and channel,
Or crafty coastwise bars,
But most the ocean-meadows
All purple to the stars!

Who holds the rein upon you?
The latest gale let free.
What meat is in your mangers?
The glut of all the sea.
'Twixt tide and tide's returning
Great store of newly dead,
The bones of those that faced us,
And the hearts of those that fled.
Afar, off-shore and single,
Some stallion, rearing swift,
Neighs hungry for new fodder,
And calls us to the drift:
Then down the cloven ridges,
A million hooves unshod,
Break forth the mad White Horses
To seek their meat from God!

Girth-deep in hissing ...

With hearts responsive
And enfranchised eyes,
We thank Thee, Lord,--
For all things beautiful, and good, and true;
For things that seemed not good yet turned to good;
For all the sweet compulsions of Thy will
That chased, and tried, and wrought us to Thy shape;
For things unnumbered that we take of right,
And value first when first they are withheld;
For light and air; sweet sense of sound and smell;
For ears to hear the heavenly harmonies;
For eyes to see the unseen in the seen;
For vision of The Worker in the work;
For hearts to apprehend Thee everywhere;
        We thank Thee, Lord!

For all the wonders of this wondrous world;--
The pure pearl splendours of the coming day,
The breaking east,--the rosy flush,--the Dawn,--
For tha...

Now was the hour that wakens fond desire
In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,
Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,
And pilgrim newly on his road with love
Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,
That seems to mourn for the expiring day:
When I, no longer taking heed to hear
Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark
One risen from its seat, which with its hand
Audience implor'd. Both palms it join'd and rais'd,
Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,
As telling God, "I care for naught beside."

"Te Lucis Ante," so devoutly then
Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,
That all my sense in ravishment was lost.
And the rest after, softly and devout,
Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze
Directed to the...

She's an enchanting little Israelite,
A world of hidden dimples! - Dusky-eyed,
A starry-glancing daughter of the Bride,
With hair escaped from some Arabian Night,
Her lip is red, her cheek is golden-white,
Her nose a scimitar; and, set aside
The bamboo hat she cocks with so much pride,
Her dress a dream of daintiness and delight.
And when she passes with the dreadful boys
And romping girls, the cockneys loud and crude,
My thought, to the Minories tied yet moved to range
The Land o' the Sun, commingles with the noise
Of magian drums and scents of sandalwood
A touch Sidonian - modern - taking - strange!

Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head!
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!

Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child!

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight!
Sweet smiles, mother's smile,
All the livelong night beguile.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thine eyes!
Sweet moan, sweeter smile,
All the dovelike moans beguile.

Sleep, sleep, happy child!
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee doth mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace;
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy Maker lay, and wept for me:

...