Chapter IV

It was in the heart of winter cold,
When the moon is old,
And snow on the lea.
I leaned from my window
And heard the sea
Ring like brass, when deep is tolled
The _bourdon_ of Christ’s nativity.
The Christmas world its page unrolled
For my pagan eyes to see.
Sheep held close in their sparkling fold,
And the ice-mailed tree
Glistened, ... as tho’ God leaned, and set
Crystal tapers, with diamond fret;
A holy festal tree made it,
Whose candles the moon lit!
I smelled frankincense, from censers gold
Shadow-swung to a litany
Glorious!...

Then wild, and bold,
A Christmas storm swept over me.
I leaned out from my parapet,
Cliff-high tower, that keeps the sea:--
Arms and breast on the sill icy,
Warm arms aching to clasp and fold
One who close on my breast should be!

Pagan, thus in the Night Holy,
Breaking form of the ancient mould,
I saw God’s one star poise, and swim
Over the birth of Love, in Him,
But Belovèd ... I dreamed of thee.

LYRICS

SING AGAIN

You sang me a song,
’Twas the close of the year,
Sing again!
I do not remember the name
Or the words,
’Tis the same
You listen to hear
When the window is open in spring
And the air’s full of birds;
One calls from the branch some rare thing
And one sings on the wing
The refrain.

You sang me a song,
My heart thrilled to hear.
The refrain
Has run like a fillet of gold
Through the woof
Of the cold,
Dark days of this year.
To-night there’s a year at its start,
The birds are aloof:
But your eyes hold the sun for my part
And the Spring’s in your heart,
Sing again!

FOREST LOVERS

Of poplar, birch, and balsam boughs,
Red cedar-walled, I’ll build my house;
Its pillars silver-boled shall be,
With rafters of the hemlock tree;
Upon the ground the dried ferns spread,
And slippery pine shall make our bed;

And all night long the lapping sound
Of waves shall fill our faerie swound;
Nor native creatures, small and shy,
Shall fright us, as they hurry by,
Nor phantom rustle of the trees
Disturb our loving mysteries.

With the first flying birds to nest
We’ll stretch our happy limbs to rest,
And lip to lip, and palm to palm,
Drift dreamward in the deep wood’s calm,
Whilst thro’ the windy rafter bars
Pale out the lanterns of the stars.

Thus love shall hold us (as Love said),
And holy be the forest bed,
The fresh, wild odours everywhere
Rise on the censers of the air,
And in the soft dark Love shall find
New vows, our lips and souls to bind.

When the white-vestured dawn shall move,
We’ll wake, as we have slept--with love,
And sinless as the forest-born
Arise with them to greet the morn.

From every mist-grey tree-top tall
The singing, singing dews that fall
Shall mingle thro’ veiled vistas dim
With whisper of our marriage hymn.

LIKE TO A SONGLESS BIRD

Like to a songless bird that swings
On a high branch, and thrills to hear
How the deep-hearted forest rings
With melody enchanting clear,

And vainly swells his throat to wake
A song as pure as these that fill
The wood, and every echo shake,
Whilst he alone is dumb and still.

So, thrilling to the music dear
Since the first song woke, low and sweet;
To purest sound I bend my ear,
And with my heart the rhythms beat;

Until the palpitating Past
With melody becometh rife;
With parted lips and hands locked fast
I hear the songs of Love and Life.

And then I lift my voice to wake
A song as pure as these that thrill
Through Time. The vaults with music shake
And I alone am dumb and still.

THREE YEARS!

I heard the wind in the trees
The stir of the leaves in the white birch tops
Then sat alone with my past till dawn
Crept over the edge of the leas
And a dull red line was drawn
In the East. There memory stops.

We do not follow our lives
As the almanacs run. I lived that night
Three years in the past and three to be....
As foam that the sea-wind drives
My thoughts sped on--three years and three,
Marked by this lock of white.

THE WIND UPON A SUMMER DAY

The wind upon a summer day
How sweet it is! The shaking trees,
The shifting shadows as they lie
Across the grass, the bending rye,
The blue flowers in the grain,--and you
To love the livelong summer through--
There are no sweeter things than these.

The dawning of a winter day
How sad it is! The leafless trees,
The frozen meadow lands that lie
Leaden beneath a snowy sky;
The old year’s bitterness,--and you
To lack the livelong winter through--
There are no sadder things than these.

ON THE NORMAN CLIFFS

The summer fields sweep to the farther blue
Crimson with poppies, yellow gold with grain.
They roll their warm wealth seaward--thus to you
I bring my boundless love. Dearest, in vain
Would I bestow its treasure otherwhere;
It floods to find your heart--enfold it there!

The land’s caress the far seas never knew;
Not on the wave falls the sweet rain of gold.
Far lie the changeful waters, pure and cold,
Sundered by the high cliffs: thus I from you
By Fate am kept a universe apart.
And yet my constant thought inspires me
To seek to lay my love upon your heart.

MID-WINTER

On this midwinter afternoon,
When all the sky is cold and grey,
What power can change the white world’s rune
To a midsummer holiday?

The branches of the leafless trees,
Bent in the pathway of the storm,
Give up their buds to orchard bees,
The atmosphere is soft and warm.

And from a thousand rose-hearts, too,
The air delicious fragrance yields;
The birds fly up against the blue,
The Summer ripens on the fields.

Thou art with me! This happy thought,
That all the birds of love unchains
To the white world, has Summer brought
Through warmth of Summer in my veins.

MARE PLACIDO

Across the tossing tumult of my sea
The peaceful current of your Spirit flows.
The ships attain their harbours, enter free
Beyond the pale horizon’s line of rose.
Tempests are banished from these miles serene:
Held cloud-free, wind-free, by your love’s control,
My sea shall yield its deep-bed treasure soon!
Mirror the evening star,--the cloud,--the moon:
Tranquil, as tho’ no storm had ever been--
My sea shall be the mirror of your soul.

IN THE GREENWOOD

I fly like a bird to my home that lies
Far in the west, by a fair green hollow.
The straight, fine, meadow-line runs with the skies:
A clear horizon for sight to follow,
To leave, then rest where the zenith’s blue,
Blue of the bluest, like my love’s eyes!

I leave the noise of the busy mart;
The small stream’s mouth with its shining shallows;
I go with its going; till here, apart,
Hid by rushes and low white mallows,
Hushed in its singing it lieth deep--
Deep of the deepest, like my love’s heart!

I will sleep and dream while the shadows move
And the slant of the sunlight falleth yellow.
I will wake to the note of the greenwood dove
As it calleth low to its distant fellow:--
Where life of the fields and the woods is pure,
Pure of the purest, like my love’s love!

EVENING TIME

To-night I watch the sun go down,
Blood-red it sinks behind the hills.
The deep low-lying valleys brown,
The wheat fields, and the daisied down,
The bright, mist-shrouded radiance fills.

Across the surface of the pond
The small trees throw their dark shadows:
Whilst in the outlying wood beyond
The deeper darkness broods and grows.

The day is no awakener
To greater beauty, than day’s wane.
The little leaves that move and stir
Make noise as of the sound of rain.

The very air is gone to rest,
And long and black the shadows lie,
As over all the crimson west
The darkness follows up the sky.

* * * * *
Good-night!--until the sun shall send
Along the east a shining mark!
In answer to my greeting, Friend,
You seem to call across the dark.

IN THE WINDOW

Oh ... my love comes to me to-night,
After the weary days.
And I must trim the candle bright
And light a cheerful blaze.

Then close within the window stand,
As down the silent streets
My heart shall hear his coming, and
How it knows, and beats!

His footstep falls from stair to stair,
(Oh my love is my own!)
I wear a ribbon in my hair
That only he has known.

His kiss upon my palms he left;
I hold its message, still.
Long days have made his soul bereft,
To-night ... he takes his fill!

In winter-time, in summer too,
In sunshine, and in rain.
Love waits for love, the wide world thro’.
(Alas ... for watches vain!)

As in my window, hid I stand;
(Would all so blest might be!)
His step is on the threshold, and
My love has come to me.

THE GLASS

When I am old! Oh Love, who well can say
Whether within a year, a month, a day
Or six times ten years that dead time shall come
When Hope is pale and wan Desire stands dumb,
And Love though living, clasps with fingers cold,
When we are old.

I think, perhaps, that Boundary’s dim outline
Will not be crossed by these swift steps of mine,
But while Desire is warm, and Hope still thrills
I shall go hence and look from unseen hills
On mighty scrolls of centuries unrolled,
I still not old.

To Be: unpierced by Vision. Break the Glass!
But if fourscore and ten my years should pass,
Witness, dear eyes! Mine, looking back, shall see
Towers of strength, and Peaceful Seas, and Thee,
And Love, a fragrant cerement, my heart shall fold
When I am old.

THREE DAYS MORE....

Not love’s command
Could dry one league of sea;
Or even God’s hand
Fold up one mile of land,
To bring you sooner unto me!

There are but three more days to climb--
To-day, to-morrow, and its mate,
Till that day!... Did love know to wait
Would it be love? Not in my time
Or in my blood!
My thought, elate,
Swells like a rising sea to flood
Covering barren days between
And brings you (as love should)
Till you stand there--my lord, my light, my good!...
Ere the frail screen
Of fancy falls to my embrace
Sudden, the spell snaps short to Fate!
Till that day--when I see your face--
There are still three dark days to climb,
To-day, to-morrow, and its mate.

LOVE’S PARADOX

I love you more with every rising day
With every waning sun I love you more.
Love walketh with me on the outward way,
It stands to meet me at the open door.
It singeth low when other sounds clash loud;
It keeps me lonely ’mid a changing crowd.

I love you most when I am far away;
I love you most when on your heart I rest;
I love you most when rapture has its sway,
I love you in your still caresses best.
In restfulness, or when your pulses beat--
All times, forever, most I love you, Sweet!

VITA, VITA!

The flight of the years pursues me.
And nothing is done!
Nor gained, nor made, nor accomplished--
Only Youth--lost.
Slave to the pleasure that fetters, (nor would be free,)
Tired of the light before the disk of the sun
Is more than half of a circle!
Stunned at the cost
Of full free living, and nothing wherewith to pay
The long close score that blights with its fearful truth--
_But my Youth_.

THE SLEEP

Love in a life and after life--_the Sleep_!
And we hang on a word, a look, and keep
The pulses throbbing,--make the Spark burn low,--
And close the Book, to laugh perhaps, to weep
Most surely! if, oh gods! we may but know
Love in life!

Our burning hands we raise
For dear palms’ clasp, and kisses on the lips,
And close embrace.
We give our nights and days,
In the one draught delectable our spirits steep,
Forgetting--(whilst the lights of Love eclipse--)
_The Sleep_.

THE REWARD

I heard the little cricket cry
Last night in the dull rain--as I
Put on my dark, my sombre dress.
(I had no ear for happiness!)

And as I braided up my hair
I saw the white threads, silvered there,
And on my cheeks the mark of tears,
My only kisses thro’ the years.

Sudden--that little voice I heard--
Finer than call of cheerful bird.
A human--tender--crying sound
In the low grasses near the ground.

Just as I said:--“_I will take Cheer
Instead of Joy!_”--Your footsteps, Dear,
Fell on the garden walk ... and when
I put my candle out,--.... Again

Late in the night I heard it plain
The cricket, singing in the rain.

LES REVENANTS

My only light is candle-light
From candles fitly set
In sconces, dazzling.
Long threads, half melting, cling
To snowy candle-masts, and fret
The straight, slim forms, and I shall sit
Alone, until the Spirit stirs
These lily lights (for they are conjurers).
From the high corners, shadows flit
Across the floor: and One shall bring
Back all my soul has loved and missed.
And the dim others fade when we have kissed.
But one remains, and I am one with it.

My only light is candle-light
From candles burning down
Till each flame flickers into night.
Is it the perfume slight
From shadow hair and shadow gown
Unseals my long-locked senses? Or,
Light touching hands and lips that fill
For me the waste of time, caress until
I live as I have lived before?

My only light shall be the candle’s light,
To summon shades and mysteries
Until my solitary spirit sees
Your shadow steal across the shining floor.

THE BOON

At break of day when shadows fly
And still the earth is white with dew,
When light soft mists on hillside lie
And, stirring purple meadows thro’,
The morning wind moves like a sigh,
Oh I awake then quietly!
Earth’s sullied things draw never nigh
When thus the day from God is new
And from a dim far place on high
On the chaste line of day and night
Where holy thoughts the souls imbue
Who wake, praise God, keep pure, walk right
A boon comes ... is’t not blest that I
Walk thus thro’ fields of God with you
At break of day when shadows fly?

THE SIGN

Last night I felt your kisses on my face,
Softer than April fall of wind-flowers;
Sweeter than summer rain upon the grass;
Sweeter than the light wind, that in the South
Wakes, and in groves of myrrh and cassia stirs.
I bent with parted lips to kiss your mouth--
Straightway there fell a fine thin veil between.
There stood the trees in level rows,
The sunlight filled the trembling green
Of the leaf-sea, in the fair close.

By these straight boles, under these slender boughs,
Throughout the days of midsummer, I stand
Until God part the veil with shining hand
And show me where you sit within His house
Holding the seven-sparred star, whose name is Love.
The time, though long, I know comes fast apace
Because of the sweet sign you told’st me of,--
_Last night I felt your kisses on my face_.

SONGS

THE FIRESIDE

Bitter cold the winter street,
Cold and grey the sky:
Bitter cold the veil of sleet
The winds drive by.

Warm and bright the fireside,
Red the flames with cheer;
What can winter’s woe betide
Us, Dear?

On my hand I feel your palm
As a bird lie warm:
Oh the fireside is calm!
It hears no storm.

Bleak the winter street and cold;
Red the flames with cheer;
Love and firelight enfold
Us, Dear.

LOVE--WHERE YOU GO!

Love, where you go December’s air grows warm,
Birds bend the barren branches to their song
And flowers spring, your coming steps to charm.
Bursting the band of ice, and frosty thong.
Over the highways prisoned in by snow
They fling a garden in old winter’s scorn!
Saying, “The lovely spring is here ... we know!”
The sombre heart of midnight pales to morn
Love--
where
you
go.--

Love, where you go, grows my heart glad enow,
My being’s pulse is tune with ecstasy.
I find a ballad on each bending bough.
I take my lute from off the greenwood tree
To wake the dearest melody I know.
I’ll fling my songs broadcast, to heaven’s blue
Where the stars think your eyes are stars below....
My soul finds its one paradise with you--
Love--
where
you
go.

COSTANZA SINGS....

My Love is a rider! (and life’s at its pace!)
He rides to the battle--he rides to the chase.
His armour is burnished, his nodding plume’s curled.
(And would I could follow him over the world!)

Nor distance, nor danger can keep us apart.
He comes with the shadows and lies on my heart.
He’s gone when the midnight its pinions has furled.
(And would I could follow him over the world!)

I’d gladly arise--don bonnet and sword,
And follow the steps of my Love and my Lord.
I’d stand by his side when the lances are hurled.
(And would I could follow him over the world!)

MAY IN FEBRUARY

When I go a Maying--Maying--
There his wanton wishes go!
Spring, like flowers, to meet me straying....
I must pluck them--will, or no!
I must break each pale stalk slender:
I must lift each flower fair;
For I know they are the tender
Thoughts of love that greet me there....

* * * * *

I will wear them on my bosom....
In the night, when he comes home
He shall see his thoughts in blossom,
Oh Beloved Spring-time,
Come!

BRIER ROSE

In among the tall weeds
There lives a brier rose.
Bright among the rugged reeds
She bends and blooms and blows.
The ragged bloom around her grows,
And rough and rude her bed:
But kisses of the wind she knows,
And blushes warm and red.

The sunny moor before her lies
The stream runs bright and clear.
She does not reck o’ sombre skies,
Nor knows the changing year.
She has no ken o’ winter drear,
Nor dreads the frost and storm:
For summer winds have called her _Dear_,
She blushes red and warm.

THE SLEEPING HEART

My heart is in the hawthorn tree.
I left it in the lovely house,
Hidden among the blooming boughs.
And every little crimson rose,
That blushes, reddens, pales or glows,
Shall give its secret up to thee!
My heart is in the hawthorn tree.

My heart is in the hawthorn tree!
It wears a fragile, rose-red dress:
A robe of spring-time loveliness.
It has forgot its songs to sing,
And sleepeth like a tired thing,--
To dream new songs, to sing to thee.--
My heart is in the hawthorn-tree.

ABSENCE

O darling--
“My darling!”
And this is all you say?
And what are words of love and cheer
When one is far away?
O darling--
“My darling!”
A word is more than none
And if you say what I would hear
You’ll fill the world with sun
O darling--
“My darling!”

TO-MORROW

Where is all the sunlight gone
Dearest heart and dearest?
Will it come again with dawn
Dearest heart and dearest?
Will it, stealing after night,
Fold the waking hours, till bright
To-morrow breaks the clearest,
Best, of every day we’ve had
Fresh and gay and good and glad?
_Dearest heart--and dearest!_

OLD TIME MELODY

I’m pining away for the way I’d go,
I’m pining away for the things I’ve seen,
For the joy of the fall of the first white snow,
And the sweep of the forest green.

But it’s not for the home-land, broad and fair;
The house on the hill, or the old ways spread;--
For why should I wander here or there,
Since you went down to the dead?

I’m pining away for the love you gave,
For the world that you made, when your life lay here.
And the path to the country beyond the grave
Is the way that I pine for, dear!

THOUGH ALL BETRAY

Dearest, give your love to me,--
I will keep it well,
Cradle it, as does the sea
Hold the shell--
Deep, unseen, and secretly.

Dearest, give your kiss to me,--
I will keep tho’ all assail:
As the temple prayerfully
Holds the Grail.
Altars then my lips shall be!

Dearest, give to me your trust,--
I will not betray....
Hold it, as the beacon must
Hold the ray,
Till the lighthouse stones are dust.

BREAK THY SLEEP

When to-night, the shining snow
Fell on forest brown and lea,
Hanging diamonds on the tree;--
When the dazzling world below
Lifted up, all brilliantly,
Stars again, to stars to throw;--
Then I thought of thee...!
White the winter forests sweep
Down to meet the midnight sea,--
Dearest, break thy charmèd sleep,
Dream a winter dream of me.

RED ROSES

The rose that comes on winter’s day
It is the rarest rose--(they say)
To venture forth so bright and bold,
With velvet leaves and heart of gold,
To wear so brave array:--
Daring the icy atmosphere,
Your winter roses, greet me--Dear
And love, all warm amid the snows,
Comes with the rose.

SONG

As the days
Go their ways;
And the months, and the years,
Bring their laughter and their tears,--
And their range
Of turn and change--
All the old,
Away we fold,--
With the moth,
And the dust;
Nothing loth
Since we must
Have the new!
As the days
Go their ways
One thing stays--
My love for you.

SLUMBER SONG

(The White Elf Mother sings.)

When the low flying wind, awake,
Brushes the lilies, and the low
Blue flowers hidden in the brake,--
When the sighing Alders bend and shake,--

When the owl’s whirring,--Hush thee, dear!
For all the elfin lights aglow
Will guide the slumber fairies here,
Naught is stirring
For my child to fear.

When the strange sighing tree-tops sing,
Dance all the fairies to and fro
And white dreams from their mantles fling,
While the flying
Winds thy cradle swing.

When the low crooning insects cry
Creep the white elves soft, and slow,
Hush thee, Sweet! and hear the merry
Pipes a-tuning
For thy lullaby!

FANTASY

I hear the fluttering wind, I see
The shadows on the grass.
I wish that you would come to me!
I would not let you pass!
But springing up from where I lie,
I take you in my arms, would I!
I’d tell you where white heather grows,
I’d kiss you, and I’d hold you close,
I would not let you pass!

Here, by my side, you’d watch with me
Cloud shadows on the grass.
If chance that you should come may be,
I will not let you pass!
Where the lost faerie kingdoms lie,
I’ll tell in wonder-tales--will I!
And as the brilliant fancy grows,
I’ll kiss you, and I’ll hold you close,
I will not let you pass!

ALBERT HERTER]

ROUNDELS

THE INSPIRATION

These songs I sing to you, who song inspire.
Would I a message new might find and bring!
Or touch with a live spark of heavenly fire
These songs I sing!

Take them, for they are doves with fluttering wing,--
They try to reach your window: lift them higher--
Up to your heart--there warm and nestling
They shall find home, and life! If love aspire
Shall it not speak? To voice a holy thing,
To voice the heart’s deep need--the soul’s desire
These songs I sing.

LUCE ADORABILE

You came to me when I had turned and said:--
“This, in my darkened life can never be,
My ways are in the stumbler’s paths instead!”
You came to me
High and unprejudiced and spirit free.
Wearing God’s seal upon your pure forehead,
Dearest, you bent from your bright way to see
My flickering torch: your own, live-flashing, red
Rekindled the faint flame. Thus holily,
A radiance, a light when light had fled,
You came to me.

TEACH MY SONG

Kind and Dear you are, and Brave and Strong.
Life has taught you worth of smile and tear;
Still your spirit’s tenor flows along
Kind and Dear.

Turn to me, on whom for many a year
Fate has wrought its work of bitter wrong;
(Scarce my veilèd vision sees you clear!)

On your brow is Peace, to you belong
Life’s best gifts, oh lend me Faith and Cheer!
Show me Truth and Beauty, teach my song,
Kind and Dear!

THE APOSTROPHE

Go, unsaid thought, wordless and songless both!
With fluttering pinions, still unseen, unsought,
Circle the spirit’s white flame like a moth--
Go--unsaid thought!

Go to the one by whom my soul is taught;
Go--wing your joyous journey, nothing loth
Like sunbeams in the hearts of lilies caught,

Like perfume that eludes, yet lingereth;--
Until your subtle mission’s fully wrought--
To charm, as a dear dream’s pale image doth,--
Go--unsaid thought!

CARRIER DOVES

Friend, unto thee I bend my constant thought;
Its current running as a stream to sea,
From hidden sources of my being brought,
Friend, unto thee.

If the wise wonders of the world could be
Found by a spell, sure my quick love had sought
Each potent and elusive mystery.

Into an amulet together wrought
To charm thee! With this full confession free--
I loose my doves to-day, their ways are taught,
Friend, unto thee!

THE NEW FRIEND

Friend--my restless spirit never knew
What good gifts the heavens kept late to send
Till the dear day dawned that brought me--_you_,
Friend!

Lacking love like this, too many wend
Graveward. Highest heaven holds few
Joys like this, with cruel pain to blend.

I who know not Peace may feel its dew;
I who have no prayers may kneel and bend
In this gentle presence;--dear and new
Friend!

L’OISEAU DES BOIS

Last night I heard in the wood green and still,
The sweetest music sung by any bird.
I never knew the soul of song, until
Last night I heard.

Pure as life’s morning, warm as love first stirred,
Fresh it outpoured our close attent to fill.
Dearest, you were beside me, and your word
Did through the heavenly harmonies distil
The spirit’s joy: and grosser sense was blurred.
I never knew the soul of Love, until--
Last night I heard!

GOD’S IS THE NIGHT

Good night,--Love rules the world,--Sleep you!--
There is no evil in Love’s sight.
See how heaven’s lamps swing in the blue,--
Good night!
Oh what avails the futile flight
Of thought to bless the long dark through?
_Deep is the darkness_, and, despite
Of Love, our care is frail to do
For those we love: but all is right,
_God’s is the darkness_; friend, to you--
Good night!

CHRISTMAS

Dearest ... for thee I make my Christmas song!
A song of holly and of fragrant tree,
Of festivals, that sweep their happy throng,
Dearest, for thee!

Look ... how the folding snow is on the lea;
See the fine hoar frost lie the hedge along
And the white holy stars shine mistily.
A Christmas gift held high, though winds are strong,
A warm and glowing gift, though ice may be,
Comes star-blest, Christ-blest, over pain and wrong,
Dearest, for thee!

LOVE’S UNIVERSE

I find in thee fields, valleys, plains, and hills.
Deep tender depths, a forest and a sea.
All that the warm wide Earth with beauty fills
I find in thee.

Each a small part of God’s fair world are we,
Each one to a quick pulse of nature thrills
Or mirrors in his soul a mystery.

All sweetness that the summer wind distils,
And all of winter beauty that may be,
All that wakes ecstasy, or calms, or stills,
I find in thee!

SUMMER

Sea and sand and here our small home’s place is
Where the low suns flush the warm wide land
Golden flooding, till the whole world’s face is
Sea and Sand.

Far beyond our horizons, expand
Happy bays--they say: but the wave’s race is
_Toward_ our love-bound island, tempest-banned.
Here for you and me the season’s grace is,
Here the heart’s response, the touch of hand
Make love’s universe, and Heaven’s embrace is
Sea and Sand.

WINTER

Sand and sea, and white gull’s fluttering feather
Down upon the beach, the salt pool’s fee.
Birds have left to storm and the wind’s tether
Sand and Sea.

Warm and bright those southern ports may be,
Here, the ribald winter rules the weather
Crying in the bending, tossing tree:

We are two--sweetheart--and care not whether
Summer reign, or Winter--so that we
Live and love, as close as kiss together
Sand and Sea.

AMOR IN EXCELSIS

I love you so that I would rather have
Your happiness than any joy below.
I would give up my soul your soul to save,
I love you so!

If round your island like sea should flow
The dearest gifts men ever sought or gave--
My heart’s desire should on the first crest glow!

My love counts pain and death small things to brave;
My love shall find the joy the immortals know;
And triumph o’er the future--and the grave,--
I love you so!

THE ROSE

Never again, Dearest, oh never more!
Not in the spring-time’s swift enchanted reign,
Shall hope to hope, shall love to love implore,
Never again!

Not in the summer--nor when autumn’s wane
Blows the dry leaves along earth’s windy floor,
Nor in the winter: that strange joy and pain

No seasons’ circle ever can restore.
The roses of to-day no tears shall stain,--
They’re thornless! You shall see the rose you wore
Never again!

WHERE ARE YOU, DEAR?

Where are you, Dear, now that the winter white
Has nearly run its course? Spring will be here
And birds shall sing as home they wing their flight,
“Where are you, Dear?”

Thus I have sung and waited thro’ the year,
Saying at morning: “You will come with night?”
And in the night: “With the dawn kind and clear,

“You will pass by!” My little dwelling bright
Has its soft curtains drawn; I wait the cheer
Your presence brings by day and candle-light;
“Where are you, Dear?”

LA MORT EST TOUJOURS FIDÈLE!

Gone!...
And steal the shadows grey
Where our window shone
Late with lights; too soon are they
Gone.

All that Heaven won
When it took you, love, away
My heaven’s built upon:--

“Joy of life--Come back a day!”
But the path leads on
Through the night.... Grief wakes to say
“Gone!”

THE WATCH

By candle-light when every fine flame played
About your bed so long and cold and white,--
I sat and kept my watch, and wept and prayed
By candle-light.

Till memories a holy, holy flight
Came back from our far childhood’s years, and stayed
Touching us with their wings. And to thy bright

High presence, “I will be all days” (I said)
“A torch to hold thy spirit’s flame aright.”
This was the tender promise that I made
By candle-light.

THE YEAR’S END

What are my ways now that my Love is dead?
As candles round a bier stand future days.
Must I then read in annals of years fled
What are my ways?
On, the Time-reaping shining sickle sways;
I watch in fog and rain with bended head;
And for no flower swathe the cold blade stays.
If memory were a solace, hearts that bled
Were healed long since!... Now the quick tear betrays
I may not with my past be comforted:
What are my ways?

OUTRE MORT

You came to me in visions of the night,
Your pale brow bound by a bright ring of flame;
High, unapproachable, and dazzling white,
You came.

I rose and called you by your dearest name;--
“Tell me,” I said, “how go the hours’ flight
In that far land? Do men strive there for Fame

And Love?” Then I lost sense and sight:
You bent to me,--your kisses were the same
As when, long since, to be my life’s delight
You came.

DEAD LOVE

Dark the day when love is gone--
When the vital spark
Dies, and leaves the soul of one
Dark.

April for the birds shall hark.
March’s wildness sown,
June with crimson bloom shall mark.
What has hope to build upon
Cold and stiff and stark?
All the future stretches on
Dark.

ALBERT HERTER]

SONNETS

VIVA! ANIMA CARISSIMA