The Lord of Misrule, and Other Poems Part 4

A KNIGHT OF OLD j.a.pAN

Make me a stave of song, the Master said, On yonder cherry-bough, whose white and red Hangs in the sunset over those green seas.

The young knight looked upon his untried blade, Then shrugged his wings of gold and blue brocade: _How should a warrior play with thoughts like these?_

Fresh from the battle, in that self-same hour, A mail-clad warrior watched each delicate flower Close in that cloud of beauty against the West.

Drinking the last deep light, he watched it long.

He raised his face as if to pray. _The strong_, The Master whispered, _are the tenderest_.

BEYOND DEATH

I

In lonely bays Where Love runs wild, All among the flowering gra.s.ses, Where light, light, light, as a sea-bird's wing The chuckle of the child-G.o.d pa.s.ses, O, to awake, to shake away the night And find you dreaming there, On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you, And the scent of the thyme in your hair.

II

Tho' beauty perish, Perish like a flower, And song be an idle breath, Tho' heaven be a dream, and youth for but an hour, And life much less than death, And the Maker less than that He made, And hope less than despair, If Death have sh.o.r.es where Love runs wild I think you might be there.

III

Re-born, re-born From the splendid sea, There should you awake and sing, With every supple sweet from the head to the feet Modelled like a wood-dove's wing,-- O, to awake, to shake away the night, And find you happy there, On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you, And the scent of the thyme in your hair.

THE STRANGE GUEST

You cannot leave a new house With any open door, But a strange guest will enter it And never leave it more.

Build it on a waste land, Dreary as a sin.

Leave her but a broken gate, And Beauty will come in.

Build it all of scarlet brick.

Work your wicked will.

Dump it on an ash-heap Then--O then, be still.

Sit and watch your new house.

Leave an open door.

A strange guest will enter it And never leave it more.

She will make your raw wood Mellower than gold.

She will take your new lamps And sell them for old.

She will crumble all your pride, Break your folly down.

Much that you rejected She will bless and crown.

She will rust your naked roof, Split your pavement through, Dip her brush in sun and moon And colour it anew.

Leave her but a window Wide to wind and rain, You shall find her footsteps When you come again.

Though she keep you waiting Many months or years, She shall stain and make it Beautiful with tears.

She shall hurt and heal it, Soften it and save, Blessing it, until it stand Stronger than the grave.

_You cannot leave a new house With any open door, But a strange guest will enter it And never leave it more._

GHOSTS

O to creep in by candle-light, When all the world is fast asleep, Out of the cold winds, out of the night, Where the nettles wave and the rains weep!

O, to creep in, lifting the latch So quietly that no soul could hear, And, at those embers in the gloom, Quietly light one careful match-- You should not hear it, have no fear-- And light the candle and look round The old familiar room; To see the old books upon the wall And lovingly take one down again, And hear--O, strange to those that lay So patiently underground-- The ticking of the clock, the sound Of clicking embers ...

watch the play Of shadows ...

till the implacable call Of morning turn our faces grey; And, or ever we go, we lift and kiss Some idle thing that your hands may touch, Some paper or book that your hands let fall, And we never--when living--had cared so much As to glance upon twice ...

But now, O bliss To kiss and to cherish it, moaning our pain, Ere we creep to the silence again.

THE DAY OF REMEMBRANCE

Dazzle of the sea, azure of the sky, glitter of the dew on the gra.s.s, Pa.s.s to Oblivion In the darkness With all that ever is or ever was.

Yet, O flocks of cloud with your violet shadows, O white may crowding o'er the lane, The Shepherd that drives you To the darkness Shall lead you thro' the crimson dawn again.

Bear your load of beauty to the sunset, and the golden gates of death.

The Eternal shall remember In the darkness And recall you at a word, at a breath.

Even as the mind of a man may remember his lost and linkless hours, This world that is scattered To the darkness Dismembered and dis-petalled, clouds and flowers,

Cities, suns, and systems, as He said of old, they sleep! Not a bird, not a leaf shall pa.s.s by, But on the day of remembrance In the darkness, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,

They shall flash to their places in the music of the whole, even as our fathers said!

For a Power shall remember In the darkness, And the universal sea give up her dead.