Walter R. Cassels

    Far, far away, over land and sea,
When Winter comes with his cold, cold breath,
And chills the flowers to the sleep of death,
    Far, far away over land and sea,
Like a band of spirits the Passage-birds flee.

Round the old grey spire in the evening calm,
    No more they circle in sportive glee,
Hearing the hum of the vesper psalm,
And the swell of the organ so far below;
    But far, far away, over land and sea,
In the still mid-air the swift Passage-birds go.

    Over the earth that is scarcely seen
    Through the curtain of vapour that waves between,
O'er city and hamlet, o'er hill and plain,
    O'er forest green, and o'er mountain hoar,
    They flit like shadows, and pass the shore,
And wing their way o'er the pathless main.

...

There sat a raven 'mid the pines so dark,
    The pines so silent and so dark at morn
    A ragged bird with feathers rough and torn,
Whetting his grimy beak upon the bark,
    And croaking hoarsely to the woods forlorn.

Blood red the sky and misty in the east--
    Low vapours creeping bleakly o'er the hills--
    The rain will soon come plashing on the rills--
No sound in all the place of bird or beast,
    Save that hoarse croak that all the woodland fills.

A slimy pool all rank with rotting weeds,
    Close by the pines there at the highway side;
    No ripple on its green and stagnant tide,
Where only cold and still the horse-leech breeds--
    Ugh! might not here some bloody murder hide!

Pshaw! ... Cold the air slow stealing through the tree...

The dream fell on him one calm summer night,
    Stealing amid the waving of the corn,
    That waited, golden, for the harvest morn--
The dream fell on him through the still moonlight.

The land lay silent, and the new mown hay
    Rested upon it like a dreamy sleep;
    And stealing softly o'er each yellow heap,
The night-breeze bore sweet incense-breath away.

The dew lay thick upon the unstirr'd leaves;
    The glow-worm glisten'd brightly as he pass'd;
    The thrush still chaunted, but the swallows fast
Hied to their home beneath lone cottage eaves.

He had been straying through the land that day,
    Dreaming of beauty as some dream of love;
    And all the earth beneath, the heaven above,
In mirror'd glory on his spirit lay.

And, a...

O'er the wide world I wander evermore,
    Through wind and weather heedless and alone,
Alike through summer, and through winter hoar,
On cloud-capt mountain, by the sea-wash'd shore,
    Seeking the star that riseth in the East.

O'er the wide world--the world that knows not why,
And stares with stupid scorn to see me go;
Whilst I with solemn secret face pass by,
To laugh in desert spots where none are nigh,
    Laugh loud and shrill unto the winds, Ho! Ho!
    For that which none but I and _it_ do know.

To think how when I find this lucky star,
    And stand beneath it, like the Wise of old,
I shall mount upward on a golden car,
Girt round with glory unto worlds afar,
    While Earth amazed the wonder shall behold,
    That bears me unto happiness...

Where art thou, oh! my Beautiful? Afar
    I seek thee sadly, till the day is done,
    And o'er the splendour of the setting sun,
Cold, calm, and silvery, floats the evening star;
    Where art thou? Ah! where art thou, hid in light
    That haunts me, yet still wraps thee from my sight?

Not wholly--ah! not wholly--still Love's eyes
    Trace thy dim beauty through the mystic veil,
    Like the young moon that glimmers faint and pale,
At noontide through the sun-web of the skies;
    But ah! I ope mine arms, and thou art gone,
    And only Memory knows where thou hast shone.

Night--Night the tender, the compassionate,
    Binds thee, gem-like, amid her raven hair;
    I dream--I see--I feel that thou art there--
And stand all weeping at Sleep's golden ...

Deep in the bosom of the ocean,
    Where sunshine fades to twilight gloom,
    The pure pearls lie, and the coral bloom
Rests unsway'd by the upper motion--
    Calm and still the hours pass by
    The lovely things that sleeping lie,
Deep in the bosom of the ocean.

The thunder rolls from cloud to cloud,
    And the bitter blast sweeps o'er the sea,
    Shaking the waters mightily;
But ne'er the tempest's voice so loud,
    Sinketh down to the things that lie--
    The lovely things that sleeping lie,
Deep in the bosom of the ocean.

The icebergs crack with a sullen boom,
    Riven by the hands of the angry North;
    And, like the Angel of Wrath sent forth,
The whirlwind stalks with the breath of doom,
    Crushing, like dust 'neath its ...

From the darksome earth-mine lifted,
    From the clay and from the rock
    Loosen'd out with many a shock;
Slowly from the clay-dross sifted,
    Molten in the fire bright-burning,
    Ever purer, whiter turning--
Ho! the anvil, cool and steady,
For the soften'd rod make ready!

Blow, thou wind, upon the flame,
    Raise it ever higher, hotter,
    Till, like clay before the potter,
Soft become the iron frame,
    Bending at the worker's will,
    All his purpose to fulfil--
Ho! the fire-purged rod is ready
For the anvil, cool and steady!

At each stroke the sparks fly brightly
    Upward from the glowing mass;
    Hail! the stroke that makes them pass,
Fall it heavy, fall it lightly!
    Now the stubborn strength bends humbly,<...

    Whither away, youth, whither away,
With lightsome step, and with joyous heart,
And eyes that Hope's gay glances dart?
    Whither away--whither away?

    Into the world, the glorious world,
To gain the prize, of the brave and bold,
To snatch the crown from the age of gold--
    Into the world--into the world!

    Whither away, girl, whither away?
Thy soft blue eyes are suffused with love,
And thy smile is as bright as the sunshine above,--
    Whither away, whither away?

    Into the world, the beautiful world,
To meet the heart that must mate with mine,
And make the measure of life divine,--
    Into the world, into the world.

    Whither away, old man, whither away,
With locks of white, and form bent low,
And trembling h...

Oh! weird West Wind, that comest from the sea,
    Sad with the murmur of the weary waves,
    Wand'ring for ever through old ocean caves,
Why troublest thou the hearts that list to thee,
With echoes of forgotten misery?

The night is black with clouds that thou art bringing
    From the far waters of the stormy main,
    Welling their woes forth wearily in rain,
Betwixt us and the light their dark course winging,
And dreary shadows o'er the spirit flinging.

Whence is thy power to smite the silent heart,
    Till as of old the unseal'd waters run?
    Whence is thy magic, Oh! thou unseen one,
To make still sorrows from their slumbers start,
And play again, unsought, their bitter part?

We are all one with Nature--every breeze
    Stealeth about...

'Mid the waving Woods of Wytham,
    Now so far, so far from me,
    Where the grand old beeches be,
And the deer-herds feeding by them:
'Mid the mossy Woods of Wytham,
    Oft I roam in memory;

Down the grand wide-arching alleys,
    Marged by plumy ferns and flowers,
    Whence all through the noontide hours
Many a fearless leveret sallies;
For amid those grassy alleys
    Never hound nor huntsman scours.

Still I see, through leafy casements,
    Wytham Hall so quaint and old,
    Remnant of the age of gold,
Gabled o'er from roof to basement
In most fanciful enlacement,
    Looking far o'er wood and wold;

With the mere outspread before it;
    Whitest swans upon its tide,
    That in mystic beauty glide;
And the wil...

    This day it was--Ah! years ago,
Long years ago, when first we met;
When first her voice thrill'd through my heart,
Aeolian-sweet, thrill'd through my heart;
    And glances from her soft brown eyes,
    Like gleamings out of Paradise,
Shone on my heart, and made it bright
With fulness of celestial light;
This day it seems--this day--and yet,
    Ah! years ago--long years ago.

    This day it was--Ah! years ago,
Long years ago, when first I knew
How all her beauty fill'd my soul,
With mystic glory fill'd my soul;
    And every word and smile she gave,
    Like motions of a sunlit wave,
Rock'd me with divine emotion,
Joyous, o'er Life's smiling ocean;
This day it seems--this day--and yet,
    Ah! years ago--long years ago.

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