The Vigil of Venus and Other Poems Part 10

Yet either I did sit beside And do at length as you did, Or my delight is lightly by An idle lie deluded!

THE STATUES AND THE TEAR

All night a fountain pleads, Telling her beads, Her tinkling beads monotonous 'neath the moon; And where she springs atween, Two statues lean-- Two Kings, their marble beards with moonlight strewn.

Till hate had frozen speech, Each hated each, Hated and died, and went unto his place: And still inveterate They lean and hate With glare of stone implacable, face to face.

One, who bade set them here In stone austere, To both was dear, and did not guess at all: Yet with her new-wed lord Walking the sward Paused, and for two dead friends a tear let fall.

She turn'd and went her way.

Yet in the spray The shining tear attempts, but cannot lie.

Night-long the fountain drips, But even slips Untold that one bead of her rosary: While they, who know it would Lie if it could, Lean on and hate, watching it, eye to eye.

NUPTIAL NIGHT

Hush! and again the chatter of the starling Athwart the lawn!

Lean your head close and closer. O my darling!-- It is the dawn.

Dawn in the dusk of her dream, Dream in the hush of her bosom, unclose!

Bathed in the eye-bright beam, Blush to her cheek, be a blossom, a rose!

Go, nuptial night! the floor of Ocean tressing With moon and star; With benediction go and breathe thy blessing On coasts afar.

Hark! the theorbos thrum O'er the arch'd wave that in white smother booms "Mother of Mystery, come!

Fain for thee wait other brides, other grooms!"

Go, nuptial night, my breast of hers bereaving!

Yet, O, tread soft!

Grow day, blithe day, the mountain shoulder heaving More gold aloft!

Gold, rose, bird of the dawn, All to her balcony gather unseen-- Thrill through the curtain drawn, Bless her, bedeck her, and bathe her, my Queen!

HESPERUS

Down in the street the last late hansoms go Still westward, but with backward eyes of red The harlot shuffles to her lonely bed; The tall policeman pauses but to throw A flash into the empty portico; Then he too pa.s.ses, and his lonely tread Links all the long-drawn gas-lights on a thread And ties them to one planet swinging low.

O Hesperus! O happy star! to bend O'er Helen's bosom in the tranced west-- To watch the hours heave by upon her breast And at her parted lip for dreams attend: If dawn defraud thee, how shall I be deem'd.

Who house within that bosom, and am dreamed?

CHANT ROYAL OF HIGH VIRTUE

Who lives in suit of armour pent And hides himself behind a wall, For him is not the great event, The garland nor the Capitol.

And is G.o.d's guerdon less than they?

Nay, moral man, I tell thee Nay: Nor shall the flaming forts be won By sneaking negatives alone, By Lenten fast or Ramazan; But by the challenge proudly thrown-- _Virtue is that becrowns a Man!_

G.o.d, in His Palace resident Of Bliss, beheld our sinful ball, And charged His own Son innocent Us to redeem from Adam's fall.

"Yet must it be that men Thee slay."

"Yea, tho' it must, must I obey,"

Said Christ; and came, His royal Son, To die, and dying to atone For harlot, thief, and publican.

Read on that rood He died upon-- _Virtue is that becrowns a Man!_

Beneath that rood where He was bent I saw the world's great captains all Pa.s.s riding home from tournament Adown the road from Roncesvalles-- Lord Charlemagne, in one array Lords Caesar, Cyrus, Attila, Lord Alisaundre of Macedon ...

With flame on lance and habergeon They pa.s.sed, and to the rataplan Of drums gave salutation-- _"Virtue is that becrowns a Man!"_ Had tall Achilles lounged in tent For aye, and Xanthus neigh'd in stall, The towers of Troy had ne'er been shent, Nor stay'd the dance in Priam's hall.

Bend o'er thy book till thou be grey, Read, mark, perpend, digest, survey, Instruct thee deep as Solomon, One only chapter thou canst con, One lesson learn, one sentence scan, One t.i.tle and one colophon-- _Virtue is that becrowns a Man!_

High Virtue's best is eloquent With spur and not with martingall: Swear not to her thou'rt continent: BE COURTEOUS, BRAVE, AND LIBERAL.

G.o.d fashion'd thee of chosen clay For service, nor did ever say, "Deny thee this," "Abstain from yon,"

But to inure thee, thew and bone.

To be confirmed of the clan That made immortal Marathon-- _Virtue is that becrowns a Man!_

ENVOY

Young Knight, the lists are set to-day!

Hereafter shall be time to pray In sepulture, with hands of stone.

Ride, then! outride the bugle blown!

And gaily dinging down the van, Charge with a cheer--_"Set on! Set on!

Virtue is that becrowns a Man!"_

CORONATION HYMN

_Tune_--Luther's Chorale "Ein' feste burg ist unser Gott"

I

Of old our City hath renown.

Of G.o.d are her foundations, Wherein this day a King we crown Elate among the nations.

Acknowledge, then, thou King-- And you, ye people, sing-- What deeds His arm hath wrought: Yea, let their tale be taught To endless generations.