THE UNSEEN WORLD

AT HOME

WHEN I was dead, my spirit turn'd

To seek the much-frequented house : I pass'd the door, and saw my friends

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.

I listen'd to their honest chat:
Said one:
"To-morrow we shall be
Plod plod along the featureless sands,
And coasting miles and miles of sea."
Said one : "Before the turn of tide

We will achieve the eyrie-seat."
Said one: "To-morrow shall be like
To-day, but much more sweet."

"To-morrow," said they, strong with hope,
And dwelt upon the pleasant way:
"To-morrow," cried they, one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had pass'd away :
"To-morrow and to-day," they cried ;
I was of yesterday.

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,

I who from love had pass'd away, Like the remembrance of a guest That tarrieth but a day.

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 1
had,

Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

AFTER DEATH

THE curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept

And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay, Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.

He lean'd above me, thinking that I slept And could not hear him; but I heard him

say:

"Poor child, poor child :" and as he turn'd

away

Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept. He did not touch the shroud, or raise the

fold

That hid my face, or take my hand in his,

Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head: He did not love me living; but once dead He pitied me; and very sweet it is

To know he still is warm though I am cold.

WIFE TO HUSBAND

PARDON the faults in me,
For the love of years ago:
Good-by.

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

You can bask in this sun,
You can drink wine, and eat:
Good-by.

I must gird myself and run,
Though with unready feet:
I must die.

Blank sea to sail upon, Cold bed to sleep in : Good-by.

IX

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

One blazes through the brief bright summer's length

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

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.

AN ECHO FROM WILLOWWOOD "OH YE,

ALL YE THAT WALK IN WILLOW-
WOOD"

Two gaz'd into a pool, he gaz'd and she, 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.
Each eyed the other's aspect, she and he,
Each felt one hungering heart leap up and
sink,

Each tasted bitterness which both must drink,

There on the brink of life's dividing sea.
Lilies upon the surface, deep below
Two wistful faces craving each for each,
Resolute and reluctant without speech :-
A sudden ripple made the faces flow
One moment join'd, to vanish out of reach:
So these hearts join'd, and ah! were parted

80.

TWIST ME A CROWN

TWIST me a crown of wind-flowers;
That I may fly away

To hear the singers at their song,
And players at their play.