Collected Poems Volume I Part 33

Violets in the dawn of Spring Hold the secret of thine eyes: Lilies bare their b.r.e.a.s.t.s and fling Scents of thee from Paradise.

Brooklets have thy talk by rote; Thy farewells array the West; Fur that clasped thee round the throat Leaps--a squirrel--to its nest!

Backward from a sparkling eye Half-forgotten jests return Where the rabbit lollops by Hurry-scurry through the fern!

Roses where I lonely pa.s.s Brush my brow and breathe thy kiss: Zephyrs, whispering through the gra.s.s, Lure me on from bliss to bliss: Here thy robe is rustling close, There thy fluttering lace is blown,-- All the tide of beauty flows Tributary to thine own.

Birds that sleek their shining throats Capture every curve from thee: All their golden warbled notes, Fragments of thy melody, Crowding, cl.u.s.tering, one by one, Build it upward, spray by spray, Till the lavrock in the sun Pours thy rapture down the day.

Silver birch and purple pine, Crumpled fern and crimson rose, Flash to feel their beauty thine, Clasp and fold thee, warm and close: Every beat and gleam of wings Holds thee in its bosom furled; All that chatters, laughs, and sings, Darts thy sparkle round the world.

_Love, so strangely lost and found, Love, beyond the seas of death, Love, immortally re-crowned, Love, who swayest this mortal breath, Sweetlier to thy lover's ear Steals the tale that ne'er was told; Bright eyes, ah, thine arms are near, Nearer now than e'er of old._

THE RETURN

O, hedges white with laughing may, O, meadows where we met, This heart of mine will break to-day Unless ye, too, forget.

Breathe not so sweet, breathe not so sweet, But swiftly let me pa.s.s Across the fields that felt her feet In the old time that was.

A year ago, but one brief year, O, happy flowering land, We wandered here and whispered there, And hand was warm in hand.

O, crisp white clouds beyond the hill, O, lavrock in the skies, Why do ye all remember still Her bright uplifted eyes.

Red heather on the windy moor, Wild thyme beside the way, White jasmine by the cottage door, Harden your hearts to-day.

Smile not so kind, smile not so kind, Thou happy haunted place, Or thou wilt strike these poor eyes blind With her remembered face.

REMEMBRANCE

O, unforgotten lips, grey haunting eyes, Soft curving cheeks and heart-remembered brow, It is all true, the old love never dies; And, parted, we must meet for ever now.

We did not think it true! We did not think Love meant this universal cry of pain, This crown of thorn, this vinegar to drink, This lonely crucifixion o'er again.

Yet through the darkness of the sleepless night Your tortured face comes meekly answering mine; Dumb, but I know why those mute lips are white; Dark, but I know why those dark lashes shine.

O, love, love, love, what death can set us free From this implacable ghost of memory?

A PRAYER

Only a little, O Father, only to rest Or ever the night comes and the eternal sleep, Only to rest a little, a little to weep In the dead love's pitiful arms, on the dead love's breast,

A little to loosen the frozen fountains, to free Rivers of blood and tears that should slacken the pulse Of this pitiless heart, and appease these pangs that convulse Body and soul; oh, out of Eternity,

A moment to whisper, only a moment to tell My dead, my dead, what words are so helpless to say-- The dreams unuttered, the prayers no pa.s.sion could pray, And then--the eternal sleep or the pains of h.e.l.l,

I could welcome them, Father, gladly as ever a child Laying his head on the pillow might turn to his rest And remember in dreams, as the hand of the mother is prest On his hair, how the Pitiful blessed him of old and smiled.

LOVE'S GHOST

I

Thy house is dark and still: I stand once more Beside the marble door.

It opens as of old: thy pale, pale face Peers thro' the narrow s.p.a.ce: Thy hands are mine, thy hands are mine to hold, Just as of old.

II

"Hush! hush! or G.o.d will hear us! Ah, speak low As Love spake long ago."

"Sweet, sweet, are these thine arms, thy breast, thy hair a.s.suaging my despair, a.s.suaging the long thirst, quenching the tears Of all these years?

III

"Thy house is deep and still: G.o.d cannot hear; Sweet, have no fear!

Are not thy cold lips crushed against my kiss?

Love gives us this, Not G.o.d;" but "Ah," she moans, "G.o.d hears us; speak, Speak low, hide cheek on cheek."

IV

Oh then what eager whisperings, h.o.a.rded long, Sweeter than any song, What treasured news to tell, what hopes, what fears, Gleaned from the barren years, What raptures wrung from out the heart of pain, What wild farewells again!

V

Whose pity is this? Ah, quick, one kiss! Once more Closes the marble door!

I grope here in the darkness all alone.

Across the cold white stone, Over thy tomb, a sudden starlight gleams: Death gave me this--in dreams.

ON A RAILWAY PLATFORM