The Poetical Works Of Robert Bridges Part 34

So thus was Eros unto Psyche wed, The heavenly bridegroom to his earthly bride, Who won his love, in simple maidenhead: And by her love herself she glorified, And him from wanton wildness disinclined; Since in his love for her he came to find A joy unknown through all Olympus wide.

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And Psyche for her fall was quite forgiven, Since 'gainst herself when tempted to rebel, By others' malice on her ruin driven, Only of sweet simplicity she fell:-- Wherein who fall may fall unto the skies;-- And being foolish she was yet most wise, And took her trials patiently and well.

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And Aphrodite since her full defeat Is kinder and less jealous than before, And smiling on them both, calls Psyche sweet; But thinks her son less manly than of yore: Though still she holds his arm of some renown, When he goes smiting mortals up and down, Piercing their marrow with his weapons sore.

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_So now in steadfast love and happy state_ They hold for aye their mansion in the sky, And send down heavenly peace on those who mate, In virgin love, to find their joy thereby: Whom gently Eros shooteth, and apart Keepeth for them from all his sheaf that dart Which Psyche in his chamber pickt to try.

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Now in that same month Psyche bare a child, Who straight in heaven was named Hedone In mortal tongues by other letters styled; Whom all to love, however named, agree: Whom in our n.o.ble English JOY we call, And honour them among us most of all, Whose happy children are as fair as she.

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_ENVOY_

IT IS MY PRAYER THAT SHE MAY SMILE ON ALL WHO READ MY TALE AS SHE HATH SMILED ON ME.

THE GROWTH OF LOVE

[Ill.u.s.tration: decoration]

_PREVIOUS EDITIONS_

1. _XXIV Sonnets. Ed. b.u.mpus, 1876._

2. _LXXIX Sonnets. Daniel Press, 1889.

This edition was copied in America._

3. _Do. do. Black letter. 1890._

4. _LXIX Sonnets. Smith, Elder & Co. Vol. I, 1898._

THE GROWTH OF LOVE

1

They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every perfect action hath the grace Of indolence or thoughtless hardihood-- These are the best: yet be there workmen good Who lose in earnestness control of face, Or reckon means, and rapt in effort base Reach to their end by steps well understood.

Me whom thou sawest of late strive with the pains Of one who spends his strength to rule his nerve, --Even as a painter breathlessly who strains His scarcely moving hand lest it should swerve-- Behold me, now that I have cast my chains, Master of the art which for thy sake I serve.

2

For thou art mine: and now I am ashamed To have used means to win so pure acquist, And of my trembling fear that might have misst Thro' very care the gold at which I aim'd; And am as happy but to hear thee named, As are those gentle souls by angels kisst In pictures seen leaving their marble cist To go before the throne of grace unblamed.

Nor surer am I water hath the skill To quench my thirst, or that my strength is freed In delicate ordination as I will, Than that to be myself is all I need For thee to be most mine: so I stand still, And save to taste my joy no more take heed.

3

The whole world now is but the minister Of thee to me: I see no other scheme But universal love, from timeless dream Waking to thee his joy's interpreter.

I walk around and in the fields confer Of love at large with tree and flower and stream, And list the lark descant upon my theme, Heaven's musical accepted worshipper.

Thy smile outfaceth ill: and that old feud 'Twixt things and me is quash'd in our new truce; And nature now dearly with thee endued No more in shame ponders her old excuse, But quite forgets her frowns and antics rude, So kindly hath she grown to her new use.

4

The very names of things belov'd are dear, And sounds will gather beauty from their sense, As many a face thro' love's long residence Groweth to fair instead of plain and sere: But when I say thy name it hath no peer, And I suppose fortune determined thence Her dower, that such beauty's excellence Should have a perfect t.i.tle for the ear.

Thus may I think the adopting Muses chose Their sons by name, knowing none would be heard Or writ so oft in all the world as those,-- Dan Chaucer, mighty Shakespeare, then for third The cla.s.sic Milton, and to us arose Sh.e.l.ley with liquid music in the word.

5

The poets were good teachers, for they taught Earth had this joy; but that 'twould ever be That fortune should be perfected in me, My heart of hope dared not engage the thought.

So I stood low, and now but to be caught By any self-styled lords of the age with thee Vexes my modesty, lest they should see I hold them owls and peac.o.c.ks, things of nought.

And when we sit alone, and as I please I taste thy love's full smile, and can enstate The pleasure of my kingly heart at ease, My thought swims like a ship, that with the weight Of her rich burden sleeps on the infinite seas Becalm'd, and cannot stir her golden freight.

6

While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry And blackening east that so embitters March, Well-housed must watch grey fields and meadows parch, And driven dust and withering snowflake fly: Already in glimpses of the tarnish'd sky The sun is warm and beckons to the larch, And where the covert hazels interarch Their ta.s.sell'd twigs, fair beds of primrose lie.

Beneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid A million buds but stay their blossoming; And trustful birds have built their nests amid The shuddering boughs, and only wait to sing Till one soft shower from the south shall bid, And hither tempt the pilgrim steps of spring.