XIX

The summer means renewal of old loves:
Again I meet the friendly wayside things
So tenderly recalled from other springs,
And in the mellow murmuring of ringed doves
I seem to hear remembered messages;
It is another youth with all of these.

XX

But how with thee? May we fond mortals take
This blithe rejuvenescence for a sign
That likewise man, death's conqueror, shall break
The shackles of long slumber, drain the wine
Of ruddy life again, resume the dear
Deep fellowships he knew when he was here?

XXI

All Nature rises: sap climbs up the bole,
The flower-hand pricks the soil, the tiny leaf
Spreads sunward; shall this struggling wight, the soul,
Alone be doomed never to burst the sheaf?
Gladly to grow, soaring elate to sing,
Such seems the fate of each created thing.

XXII

Two inconceivables: that we can win
Our way from that dread land where silence reigns,
Where all our kind at length are gathered in,
When blood no more leaps buoyant in our veins;
A place where there is neither glee nor grief, —
That we return from this, surpasses belief.

XXIII

But also it is dark to understand
How my so dominant spirit can be quenched
For ever: I am lord of all the land
To-day, to-morrow from dominion wrenched.
How meaningless it looks, the bright, brief glory,
Sad with the shortness of all human story,
Sweet as the mocking-bird's rich repertory!

XXIV

Sometimes I step into the scented night
And feel a breathing Presence; then my fears
Vanish, and in their stead comes calm delight;
The home-call of the earth is in mine ears;
The universe throbs love, all life is one,
Swift through the velvet dark I find the sun.

XXV

But the mood passes, and the mystery
That shuts us in, crushes the mounting soul;
Passes the hope as well of me-and-thee;
The fond reunion and the final goal;
O Arthur, then both life and loving seem
The obliterated moment of a dream.

*****

XXVI

Despite the fear, the gnawing unbelief,
Thy presence were no miracle, I know,
If suddenly I saw thee: then my grief
Would be as it had never been, for oh,
'Tis easier far to feel thee close at hand,
Than banish one so bright to Shadow-land.

*****

XXVII

Once when the spring brought lilacs to a town
Loved of us both, we planned how we should wend
Together to that place of high renown
Where sage and dreamer dwelt, and tall trees bend
Above their sleep, — a precious spot. We said:
" To-morrow " and " to-morrow " ; spring-tide sped,
We never went, — and, Arthur, thou art dead!

XXVIII

The heavens were kindlier in the mythic age:
The sun, a shining god, gave gifts to men;
The moon, fair woman wight, was human then,
And stars were jewels on the poet's page.
One who had lost his friend might converse hold,
Leaning to listen up those courts of gold.

XXIX

But we are wiser now; the sky recedes
And all its friendly populace is fled.
Time, Space and Substance mock our deepest needs,
The heart goes hungry for the old faiths dead;
So must I seek for thee beyond the bars,
Higher than suns, behind the outmost stars.

XXX

But seek I will! and faithful in the quest
I swear to be so long as life may last.
Of all chill thoughts, this is the hatefulest:
That, slow but sure, the friendship-freighted past
Should fade, and I be satisfied to live
Unmindful, nor, as once, my homage give.

XXXI

If there be torture for the dear ones gone,
It must be in the thought that they are quite
Forgotten: not one soul to reckon on,
Of all who pledged them faith in death's despite.
Alas, Sad Heart, if thou return to see
Another in thy place and strange to thee!

XXXII

Hear me, dear Arthur, by whatever shore
Thou pacest! As the year brings round the rose,
As winter wanes and all the harshness goes
Out of the ground; as balmier airs restore
Midsummer's soft elysian miracle,
And earth resumes the witch-work of her spell, —

XXXIII

I shall renew the sweet old habitudes
Were ours, forget thee never, cherish fond
Each look and tone and word, as one who broods
On something sacred from a land beyond
These present troublings; hear the oath I swear:
Where I am, thou shalt be, for ever there!

XXXIV

Summer shall be the bond that binds us twain,
Midsummer's purple pleasance be a tryst
Both of us haste to keep, and find again
Solace and comradeship the happiest
That men e'er knew; midsummer's mounting tide
Of beauty still shall bear us side by side

XXXV

Unto the haven where all dreams come true:
For in this bounty of the gracious year
There is no room for grieving, every tear
Is dried, and every hurt attended to;
Together in the summer, thou and I,
Surely, such brothership can never die!