Chapter II

I'd another friend, in another pale,
Who spent a holiday in jail.
He fought for what his heart deemed right,
And they shut him up in walls of night.
Yet merrily his heart did sing
Like a mating bird that hails the Spring.

AUNT ZILLAH SPEAKS

I never look upon the sea
And hear its waves sighing,
But I must hie me home again
To still my heart's wild crying.
All my years like drowned sailors,
All my days that used to be,
Seem drifting in the silver spray
And mourning by the sea.

But when I take a holiday
I go where flowers are growing,
Where thrushes sing and skylarks wing
And happy streams are flowing;
And the great hills clothed with bracken,
As far as I would flee,
Fling their towering crests to the stars on high
To hide me from the sea.

TALKING TO GOD

A fighting man lay down for ease
In the shade of two tall forest trees
Deep dinted with bullet and shell.

And one tree said to the other,
"Is not this worn soldier our brother!
And has he not vowed to defend
This strip of green glade till the End!
Let us thank the kind Father in Heaven
For this kinship of man He has given."

The trees talked to God all the night,
And they thrilled with a soaring delight.

SACRIFICE

When Jesus was crucified
The German roamed in his forests,
And the blood of the Frenchman surged in the veins
Of the Roman who pierced His side.
And we, the British, we were not,--
Though a dream that He cherished.
And for each and all Christ died.

PROPHECY

When the cruel War is over
The Earth will sing like a lover;
And grasses, flowers, and trees
Will shake with joy in the breeze.
Very old weary men
Will know their youth again.
And be blithe as England's soldiers when
They first sailed o'er the seas.

And Wisdom lately spent
Will steal forth from banishment,
All betimes in the morning,
Like a bride to her adorning,
Gay and very wistful,
Singing with her heart full,
She will hide her forehead's scars
With the fairest of Heaven's stars.

And the tongue will leap with the brain,
And not clank in a forger's chain,
As it has been heretofore
With Truth's jailer at the door;
As it was on this globe prison
Ere the soul of man had risen.

And the dead in the morning dim
Will reign as the seraphim.
They will fan to flame man's spirit
To a whiter purer merit.
There will be a new beginning,
And some shall cease from sinning,--
When the bitter strife is over,
And the Earth is Heaven's lover.

TALKING WATER

Last night I walked in the fern lands
And heard the words of the brooks.
What need has a weary man's spirit
With phrases from books!

The timid fish splashed in the shallows,
The sad wind sobbed in the reeds;
And I soothed with the whispering water
A wound that bleeds.

THE END

A poet lay dead where two red frontiers meet;
And many birds fluttered about his feet.
He had unfurled his last wild madrigal,
And winds had borne it where the dead leaves fall.

The thrush, May's mottled elf, the minstrel, sang
More harsh than was his wont. The blackbird rang
Strange sobbing woodland bells. The finch so sweet
Lay with glazed eye, and raised each shattered wing,
And cried in sudden pain, but could not sing.
The sparrow twittered, "'Tis dark under the eaves,
And sad-eyed Margot sits at home and grieves."
The lark said, "God is angry in bright Heaven.
I saw Him once,--a great white fluttering bird
With beautiful broad wings that oft are heard
When the wind beats the blue nave of the skies.
I saw Him perching high upon the moon
With the most dreadful anguish in His eyes.
He flaps His wings, and tries, and wildly tries;
But _He_ can sing no longer.
It is still in Heaven.
It is still in forest and on hill.
The green leaves wither, and the world grows chill."

A SINN FEINER

I once had the trustiest comrade--
God grant he thinks kindly of me--
And we always stood shoulder to shoulder
When a tossing wind troubled Life's sea.
He was like the marsh fire in fair weather;
Though in foul, we made merry together.

But his soul was knit to the whirlwind--
The fen mists but shrouded the flame--
And I knew not our friendship's attachment
Till the day that the whirlwind came,
For I saw our lives broken asunder
And watched him away with the thunder.

Men said he consorted with traitors
And marshalled the beasts of the sty.
But I know that mere mischief makers
Don't joyfully go forth to die.
And I've lost a friend like a brother,
And never I'll know such another.

THE FOREIGN LEGIONARY, 1911

He had just come out of prison, and he stood and scowled apart,
The old lust 'neath his ragged coat, and the cold hate in his heart;
And he peered to right and left through the cruel sleet and rain,
Then dived into the nearest street to rob and steal again.

He lay wounded in the desert where the thirsty sand gleamed red,
Arab spearmen thrusting at the dying and the dead;
He had left the shrunken ranks to save a comrade in the rear;
And he raised himself and cursed them; and went down beneath a spear.

He lies and stares at Heaven through a cloud of crows and kites;
While round him prowl the jackals in the lurid tropic nights.
And he'll slowly bleach to powder 'neath the sunlight's livid scroll,
--The man they chased from Europe whom the world denied a soul.

THE MISSIONARY

(_Freely adapted from a Foreign Tongue_)

You speak of worlds with rainbow prospects vaulted.
But not for these the service that I hoard.
You know the sweet; but I--the pure, exalted:
My soul spreads wings to her exalted Lord.

My sphere of lowly service is more spacious
Than earthly masters and their tasks afford;
For gentle is my Lord, and very gracious:
I serve with willing hands my gracious Lord.

I know dark realms where no glad light is burning,
Where Life meets Death, and bows beneath his sword;
But yet I fear not; for He is discerning:
I lean upon my wise, discerning Lord.

And when I'm stripped of all, requited latest,
His kind "Well Done" my guerdon, my reward:
Though yours be richer, yet my Lord's the greatest.
I follow Him--the mightiest, greatest Lord.

[_Some of these poems have already appeared in_ The English
Review, Country Life, T. P.'s Magazine _and the_ Wesleyan
Methodist Magazine. _I thank the Editors for permission to
reproduce them._]

THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_.

Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been retained from
the original.

It is not always possible to determine if a new stanza begins at
the top of a printed page, but every effort has been made by the
transcriber to retain stanza breaks where appropriate.

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