Poems by Walter Richard Cassels Part 16

Then with her soft voice trembling through the crowd, "Back let us to the world from whence we came; And since that Life hath many Golden Springs, Hath many joys to gain through toil and doubt, Still let us scale the mountain for the prize, And close our ears to Folly's wagging tongue."

They spurr'd along until the sun sank low, And by the way arose the lonely tree, Mere sat the Dervise, rheumy-eyed and old-- Blood-red the western sky--the clouds back waved, And one faint star pale glimmering in the height-- There found they still the Dervise 'neath his tree, Where he had pointed them the Eastern way, Now sleeping the last sleep with smiling lips.

"The Golden Water found, his task is done, And now the Watcher calmly takes his rest!"

Then on in silence through the quiet night.

YEARS AGO.

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.

This day it was--Ah! years ago, Long years ago, when first I heard, Amid the silence of my soul, The fearful silence of my soul, That warning voice of doom declare-- O G.o.d! unmoved by my despair-- How her soft eyes would lose their light, Their holy, pure, and stainless light, And all the beauty of her being Fade sadly, swiftly from my seeing; This day it seems--Ah me! this day, Though years ago--sad years ago.

This day it was--Ah! years ago, Long years ago, when dumb I stood Beside that little gra.s.s-green mound-- Would I had lain beneath the mound!-- And gazed out through my briny tears, Upon the future lonely years, Upon the cold, bleak, cheerless years, Till Earth should ope her gra.s.sy breast, And take me to my welcome rest, Where she in Death's cold arms lay prest; This day it seems--Ah me! this day, Though years ago--sad years ago.

This day it was--Ah! years ago, Long years ago; and yet I still Gaze through moist eyes upon the Past, The cherish'd, unforgotten Past; Gaze onward through the coming days, And wonder, with a sweet amaze, What sunrise with its rosy light Will bring her to my longing sight; What sunset with its golden glow Will o'er the long-sought slumber flow, Amid whose visions she shall gleam, As once she did through youth's sweet dream, Ah! years ago--long years ago.

VULCAN.

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 ma.s.s; Hail! the stroke that makes them pa.s.s, Fall it heavy, fall it lightly!

Now the stubborn strength bends humbly, To the Master yielding dumbly; From the metal, purged and glowing, Forms of freest grace are flowing.

Wield thine hammer well, strong arm!

Strength to Beauty [*] wedded brings Glory out of rudest things, Facts from mere imaginings; Strike from steel its hidden charm!

Little reck the rocks the blow That makes the living water flow; Little recks man's soul the rod That scourges it through tears to G.o.d.

[*Footnote: Vulcan was wedded to Venus.]

SONG.

The days are past, the days are past, When we did meet, my love and I; And youthful joys are fading fast, Like radiant angels up the sky; But still with every dawning day Come back the blessed thoughts of old, Like sunshine in a morn of May, To keep the heart from growing cold.

The flowers are gone, the leaves are shed, That waved about us as we stray'd; And many a bird for aye has fled, That chaunted to us from the glade; Yet every leaf and flower that springs In beauty round the ripening year, And every summer carol brings New sweetness from the old time dear.

GUY OF WARWICK.

AN EPISODE.

Autumn went faintly flying o'er the land, Trailing her golden hair along the West, Weeping to find her waving fields despoil'd, Her yellow leaves all floating on the wind: And Winter grim came stalking from the North.

Around the coast rough blasts began to blow, And toss the seas about in giant sport, Lurking without to catch unwary sails, And snap their bellying seams against the mast.

So Guy lay idly waiting in the port, Gazing out eastward through the stormy mist, Gazing out eastward morn and closing eve, Seeking some break amid the hurtling clouds.

But many days the same wind strongly blew, Keeping his bark close moor'd within the bay, Jerking the cable, like a restive steed.

And waiting thus impatient to be gone, Looking out seaward from the dripping wharf, Strange rumours fill'd his ears, from inland come, How all the land around his native place Was devastated by a mighty Beast, Most terrible to see, and pa.s.sing strong.

They told him how it slew both man and brute, Destroying every living thing around, And laying waste the land for many a mile; And how 'twas thought no blade, by mortal wrought, Could cleave its way into the monster's heart; And then they told him how his lord the King Had late proclaim'd through all the country round, That whosoe'er should slay the noisome Beast, Should straight be knighted by his kingly sword, And honour'd greatly in the rescued land.

Yet none was found so stout of heart and limb, To venture in this perilous emprize; "But ah!" they said, supposing him far off, "If famous Guy were here, there were a man Would rid us of this monster presently.

But as for him, he speeds away through France, Bearing to other lands his strength, that, faith, Were better spent at home amongst his kin."

And still the East wind bl.u.s.ter'd to the sh.o.r.e.

Now Guy, whose ears still tingled all the day With these strange murmurs of the troubled land, Began to feel his heart with pity move; And, for his soul still fretted at delay, Like a leash'd hound that scents the flying game, He straight resolved to take this quarrel up, And for his country's weal to slay the Beast.

So he arose, girt on his trusty sword, And with his bow and quiver slung behind, And at his belt his mighty battle-axe, Rode calmly forth to slay the hurtful Beast.

And no man knew that he was Guy, for all Believed him far away on foreign sh.o.r.es; Which pleased him pa.s.sing well, "Because," he said, "I do this thing for Phoelice and the King, And none shall know but Heaven that sees the deed.

But when the country feels returning joy, Her heart will flutter with a secret thought."

And all the land was desolate and waste; The fields stood rotting 'neath the Autumn rains, And no man pluckt the sodden corn that lay, Dead ripe, along the furrows 'mid the weeds; No cattle browsed upon the long rank gra.s.s, Or paused to gaze upon him as he rode; The cottages, deserted all in haste, Stood open-door'd and rifted by the winds, With cold grey ashes scatter'd o'er the hearth.

Here he beheld the homely meal spread forth, Which no man ate; and there, upon the floor, An o'erturn'd cradle, whence a mother late Had s.n.a.t.c.h'd her babe up with a cry, and fled.

And all his heart was sore with what he saw, For he met none to wish him once "G.o.d speed;"

So he spurr'd onward swifter to the place Where lurk'd the monster that thus spoil'd the land; And long the road seem'd to him in his wrath.

At last he came unto the fearful spot, Mark'd with the blanching bones of man and beast; A thicket planted by a lonely heath, O'ergrown with brambles and unwholesome weeds, That clasping trees around with witch-like arms, Poison'd their life out, and still held them dead.

And at one side there stretch'd a stagnant pool, Unstirr'd by any grateful breeze, but thick With slimy leaves, and rushes all forlorn, And every footstep on the spongy bank Fill'd straightway with the oozing of decay.

The Beast hid in the bosom of this wood; And as Guy went he saw two eyes of fire Burn through the darkness of the wood, like blasts Sent from a smith's forge suddenly at night.

But, nought dismay'd, he bent his bow of steel, And sent an arrow whirring through the leaves.

He heard the shaft ring on the monster's ribs, And backward leap, as when a falchion strikes Full on a warrior's casque with fiery force; Whereat with roaring horrible to hear, Like storm-winds belching through a cavern's mouth, Forth rush'd the monster, furious and grim, With open jaws and reeking breath at Guy; Who, leaping nimbly back, put forth his strength, And struck her full between the eyes a blow That made the stout axe quiver in his hand.

But, nothing hurt, the madden'd Beast rush'd on, And nigh o'erwhelm'd him in her headlong course, Denting his breastplate, wrought of temper'd steel, With the close home-thrust of her pointed horns.

But Guy, swift wheeling round his snorting steed, Thought on his Phoelice, and, with mighty strength, Launch'd forth a stroke that made the thick blood flow In loathsome torrents from a gaping wound.

So, cheer'd at heart, he thunder'd blow on blow, Till, with a bellow of despair and pain, The monster tore the earth, and, writhing, died.

And when Guy saw that he had slain the Beast, He was right glad, and full of sweet content.

And so he wiped his blood-stain'd battle-axe, And rode with lighten'd heart in haste away To bear the welcome tidings to the town.

And as he pa.s.s'd, or that he dreamt, or saw, It seem'd as though the land bloom'd up again, And sunshine fill'd the air with hope and life.