English

IN FIVE CANTOS

CANTO I .

Some authors, more abstruse than wise,
Friendship confine to stricter ties,
Require exact conformity
In person, age, and quality
Their humours, principles, and wit
Must, like Exchequer tallies, hit: —
Others, less scrupulous, opine,
That hands and hearts in love may join,
Though different inclinations sway,
For Nature's more in fault than they.
Whoe'er would sift this point more fully,
May read St. Evremond and Tully;

Art thou a living guardian, ever near
To watch and ward thine own? Or far away,
Bright with the brightness of eternal day
Among just souls made perfect, dost thou hear
The song which stills in music doubt and fear,
There where at last divine compassion dries
The bitter drops that cling to mortal eyes,
Yea, even the mourning mother's sacred tear?

I know not. This at least I know full sure:
There dwells a living presence in the heart,
Not I, but in me, high and strong and pure,
Counsel of right, a bringer of good things,

" They have neither speech nor language"

Who was it laughed? The wind on the meadows?
The ripples dancing, mad with glee?
Where the seagulls chase their flying shadows
Over the shore and over the sea?

Who was it spoke? The speechless voices
Which rise deep in the heart of things,
When the great sun in his strength rejoices,
And star with star holds communings?

With murmuring music low that hovers
Tremulous through the haunted air?
Whispered sighs of dear dead lovers?
A poet's rapture? A martyr's prayer?

As a friend may greet a friend,
Meeting at a journey's end:
As Asister greets a brother,
I, thy mother's mother's mother —
I am come to meet thee, dear,
I am come to greet thee here.

In the land that is thine own,
In the land thou hast not known —
In the dear land,
In the far land,
There they laid me safe and deep,
There they bade me sleep my sleep.

Then a voice the silence broke:
I heard, I woke:
" Come to me: come to me."
Over land and over sea
Thou hast called me by my name:

Children , children, will you remember me,
Mother of the loved ones who loved you so?
Here on the windy shore, here by the sunny sea,
Where the merry waves dance and the merry winds blow?

Children, children, let none be sad for me,
No face be sad for me, no tear flow,
Here on the windy shore, here by the sunny sea,
Blue sky above you and blue waves below.

Here on the windy shore, here by the sunny sea,
Blue waves below you and blue sky above,
Children, children, here shall you remember me,

PSALM XXI

I WILL rejoice in the strength of the Lord:
He who shattered the spear and sword,
He who gave me my heart's desire;
For the spoiler's castle is burned with fire,
The mighty man hath bowed his head
And fallen beside his captain dead,
The bowman and the charioteer;
Pain and sorrow and doubt and fear;
Death and all his ravening horde.
I will rejoice in the strength of the Lord:
He who crowned my head with gold,
He whose sheltering wings enfold
Me the captive, me the slave.

Youth ! was ever youth like hers?
What dreams awake! what memory stirs
Within us, at her name, to think
That once we stood beside the brink
Of that divine, translucent river,
Where now the sands are dry for ever.

Youth! was ever youth like hers?
Sure, the shining ministers,
Jewel-pinioned, who await
Ransomed souls at heaven's gate
And greet them with a holy kiss,
Looked like this, smiled like this.

Was ever heart but must rejoice
At the ripple of her voice?
Was ever eye but danced with glee

" He made his angels spirits:
His messengers a flame of fire"

Lit at heaven's altar flame,
Soul's delight and heart's desire,
Out of the deep her spirit came: —
His messenger, a flame of fire.

Out of the deep her soul was sent,
Soul's delight and heart's desire,
Out of the deep it came: — and went:
And, fire, vanished into fire.

Dancing down the dewy glades,
Robin leads his fairy maids,
All the roaring street along,
Dreaming in the noisy throng,
Her spirit hears the fairy song,
Hears the beat
Of fairy feet,
And dances to the fairy song.

All alone upon the height,
Burning in the awful light,
Eye to eye and soul to soul,
He takes the scroll.
Seek again the busy vale,
Sing the song and tell the tale;
A stranger in a stranger land,
Who will hear and understand?
" Sister, sister, is it you?"

Make no long tarrying, O my God!
May the downward path be swiftly trod,
Swiftly the failing feet descend:
Short the road, and soon the end.
When the doom is spoken, let it fall:
And when Thou takest, then take all.

And as the sun sinks in the sea,
Nor dim, nor pale, nor overcast,
By no sad change, nor slow degree,
Radiant and royal to the last:
So take the gift Thou gavest me.