Puslapio vaizdai
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SUMMER dieth :-o'er his bier
Chant a requiem low and clear !
Chant it for his dying flowers,

Chant it for his flying hours.
Let them wither all together

Now the world is past the prime
Of the golden olden-time.

Let them die, and dying Summer
Yield his kingdom to the comer
From the islands of the West :

He is weary, let him rest!
And let mellow Autumn's yellow

Fall upon the leafy prime
Of the golden olden-time.
Go, ye days, your deeds are done!

clouds about the sun
Your imperial winding-sheet;

Let the night winds as they fleet Tell the story of the glory

Of the free great-hearted prime
Of the golden olden-time.

With three smart hussies as bold as they. Drunk and swearing and swaggering all, With their foul songs scaring the quiet

Mall, While the clash of glasses and clink of

spurs Kept time to the roystering quiristers, And the old man sat and stamp'd with his

stump : When I heard a trumpeter trumpet a

trump :-
“ To the wars ! - To the wars !

March, march !
Quit your petty little tittle-tattle,
Quit the bottle for the battle,

And march !
To the wars, to the wars!
March, march with a tramp!

To the wars !
Up, you toper at your tipple, bottle after

bottle at the tap! Quit your pretty dirty Betty! Clap her

garter in your cap,

And march !
To the trench and the sap !
To the little victual of the camp !
To the little liquor of the camp!

To the breach and the storm!
To the roaring and the glory of the

To the rattle and the battle and the

Trumpeter, trumpet it out!

At a pot-house bar as I chanced to pass
I saw three men by the flare of the gas :
Soldiers two, with their red-coats gay,
And the third from Chelsea, a pensioner



Christina Beorgina fiossetti
THE UNSEEN WORLD Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve :
For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I
WHEN I was dead, my spirit turn'd

To seek the much-frequented house : Better by far you should forget and smile
I pass’d the door, and saw my friends Than that you should remember and be
Feasting beneath green orange-boughs ;

From hand to hand they push'd the wine,
They suck'd the pulp of plum and peach ;

They sang, they jested, and they laugh’d,
For each was lov'd of each.

THE curtains were half drawn, the floor

was swept I listen'd to their honest chat:

And strewn with rushes, rosemary


may Said one : “To-morrow we shall be Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay, Plod plod along the featureless sands, Where through the lattice ivy-shadows And coasting miles and miles of sea.

crept. Said one : “ Before the turn of tide

He lean'd above me, thinking that I slept We will achieve the eyrie-seat.”

And could not hear him ; but I heard him Said one : “To-morrow shall be like

say : To-day, but much more sweet.”

“ Poor child, poor child :” and as he turn'd

away “ To-morrow," said they, strong with hope, Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.

And dwelt upon the pleasant way: He did not touch the shroud, or raise the “ To-morrow,” cried they, one and all,

fold While no one spoke of yesterday.

That hid my face, or take my hand in Their life stood full at blessed noon ;

his, I, only I, had pass'd away :

Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head : “ To-morrow and to-day," they cried ; He did not love me living ; but once dead I was of yesterday.

He pitied me; and very sweet it is

To know he still is warm though I am cold. I shiver'd comfortless, but cast

No chill across the table-cloth ; I, all forgotten, shiver'd, sad

To stay, and yet to part how loth : I pass’d from the familiar room,

PARDON the faults in me, I who from love had pass'd away,

For the love of years ago : Like the remembrance of a guest

That tarrieth but a day.

I must drift across the sea,
I must sink into the snow,

I must die.


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Shall I meet other wayfarers at night ?

Those who have gone before. Then must I knock, or call when just in

sight? They will not keep you standing at that


Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak ?

Of labor you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who

seek? Yea, beds for all who come.

And love of me arose with Thee
When death and hell lay overthrown :

Thou lovedst me

Thy little one.
And love of me went up with Thee
To sit upon Thy Father's Throne :

Thou lovest me

Thy little one :
Lord, as Thou me, so would I Thee
Love in pure love's communion,

For Thou lov'st me

Thy little one :
Which love of me brings back with Thee
To Judgment when the Trump is blown,

Still loving me
Thy little one.


DEAR Lord, let me recount to Thee
Some of the great things thou hast done

For me, even me
Thy little one.



The splendor of the kindling day,

The splendor of the setting sun,
If there be any one can take my place These move my soul to wend its way,
And make you happy whom I grieve to

And have done grieve,

With all we grasp and toil amongst and Think not that I can grudge it, but be

say. lieve I do commend you to that nobler grace, The paling roses of a cloud, That readier wit than mine, that sweeter The fading bow that arches space, face ;

These woo my fancy toward my shroud , Yea, since your riches make me rich, con- Toward the place ceive

Of faces veil'd, and heads discrown'd and I too am crown'd, while bridal crowns I

bow'd. weave, And thread the bridal dance with jocund The nation of the awful stars, pace:

The wandering star whose blaze is For if I did not love you, it might be

brief, That I should grudge you some one dear These make me beat against the bars delight;

Of my grief ; But since the heart is yours that was mine My tedious grief, twin to the life it mars.

own, Your pleasure is my pleasure, right my O fretted heart toss'd to and fro, right,

So fain to flee, so fain to rest !
Your honorable freedom makes me free, All glories that are high or low,
And you companion'd I am not alone.

East or west,
Grow dim to thee who art so fain to go.



All things that pass

Are woman's looking-glass ;
They show her how her bloom must fade,
And she herself be laid
With wither'd roses in the shade;

With wither'd roses and the fallen peach,
Unlovely, out of reach

Of summer joy that was.

IF I could trust mine own self with your

fate, Shall I not rather trust it in God's

hand ?
Without whose will one lily doth not

Nor sparrow fall at his appointed date ;
Who numbereth the innumerable sand,
Who weighs the wind and water with a

To whom the world is neither small nor

great Whose knowledge foreknew every plan we

plann'd. Searching my heart for all that touches

I find there only love and love's good-

Helpless to help and impotent to do,
Of understanding dull, of sight most dim;
And therefore I commend you back to

Whose love your love's capacity can fill.

All things that pass

Are woman's tiring-glass;
The faded lavender is sweet,
Sweet the dead violet
Cull'd and laid by and car'd for yet ;

The dried-up violets and dried lavender
Still sweet, may comfort her,

Nor need she cry Alas !

All things that pass

Are wisdom's looking-glass;
Being full of hope and fear, and still
Brimful of good or ill,
According to our work and will ;


For there is nothing new beneath the sun ;
Our doings have been done,

And that which shall be was.


THE irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to

me :-
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless

band Of inner solitude ; we bind not thee ; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee

free? What heart shall touch thy heart? what

hand thy hand ? -
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes

And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek
And all the world and I seem'd much less

And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not


STAR Sirius and the Pole Star dwell afar
Beyond the drawings each of other's

strength :
One blazes through the brief bright sum-

mer's length
Lavishing life-heat from a flaming car;
While one unchangeable upon a throne
Broods o'er the frozen heart of earth

Content to reign the bright particular star
Of some who wander or of some who

groan. They own no drawings each of other's

strength, Nor vibrate in a visible sympathy, Nor veer along their courses each toward

each : Yet are their orbits pitch'd in harmony Of one dear heaven, across whose depth

and length Mayhap they talk together without speech.

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Two gaz’d into a pool, he gaz’d and she, FROM “LATER LIFE" Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I

think, Pale and reluctant on the water's brink,

As on the brink of parting which must be. We lack, yet cannot fix upon the lack : Each eyed the other's aspect, she and he, Not this, nor that; yet somewhat, cer- Each felt one hungering heart leap up and tainly.

sink, We see the things we do not yearn to see Each tasted bitterness which both must Around us : and what see we glancing back?

drink, Lost hopes that leave our hearts upon the There on the brink of life's dividing sea. rack,

Lilies upon the surface, deep below Hopes that were never ours yet seem'd to Two wistful faces craving each for each, be,

Resolute and reluctant without speech :For which we steer'd on life's salt stormy A sudden ripple made the faces flow

One moment join'd, to vanish out of reach : Braving the sunstroke and the frozen pack. So these hearts join'd, and ah! were parted If thus to look behind is all in vain, And all in vain to look to left or right, Why face we not our future once again, Launching with hardier hearts across the TWIST ME A CROWN

main, Straining dim eyes to catch the invisible Twist me a crown of wind-flowers; sight,

That I may fly away
And strong to bear ourselves in patient To hear the singers at their song,


And players at their play.


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