Soft in my ear like music came.
That sea I loved, and once or twice
I touched at isles of Paradise.
LOUD AND LOW IN THE CHIMNEY
LOUD and low in the chimney
The squalls suspire;
Then like an answer dwindles
And glows the fire,
And the
chamber reddens and darkens
In time like taken breath.
Near by the sounding chimney
The youth apart
Hearkens with changing colour
And leaping heart,
And hears in the coil of the tempest
The voice of love and death.
Love on high in the flute-like
And tender notes
Sounds as from April meadows
And
hillside cotes;
But the deep wood wind in the chimney
Utters the
slogan of death.
I LOVE TO BE WARM BY THE RED FIRESIDE
I LOVE to be warm by the red fireside,
I love to be wet with rain:
I love to be
welcome at lamplit doors,
And leave the doors again.
AT LAST SHE COMES
AT last she comes, O never more
In this dear
patience of my pain
To leave me
lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.
MINE EYES WERE SWIFT TO KNOW THEE
MINE eyes were swift to know thee, and my heart
As swift to love. I did become at once
Thine
wholly, thine unalterably, thine
In
honourable service, pure intent,
Steadfast
excess of love and laughing care:
And as she was, so am, and so shall be.
I knew thee helpful, knew thee true, knew thee
And Pity bedfellows: I heard thy talk
With answerable throbbings. On the stream,
Deep, swift, and clear, the lilies floated; fish
Through the shadows ran. There, thou and I
Read Kindness in our eyes and closed the match.
FIXED IS THE DOOM
FIXED is the doom; and to the last of years
Teacher and taught, friend, lover, parent, child,
Each walks, though near, yet separate; each beholds
His dear ones shine beyond him like the stars.
We also, love, forever dwell apart;
With cries approach, with cries behold the gulph,
The Unvaulted; as two great eagles that do wheel in air
Above a mountain, and with screams confer,
Far heard athwart the cedars.
Yet the years
Shall bring us ever nearer; day by day
Endearing, week by week, till death at last
Dissolve that long
divorce. By faith we love,
Not knowledge; and by faith, though far removed,
Dwell as in perfect nearness, heart to heart.
We but excuse
Those things we merely are; and to our souls
A brave
deception cherish.
So from
unhappy war a man returns
Unfearing, or the
seaman from the deep;
So from cool night and woodlands to a feast
May someone enter, and still breathe of dews,
And in her eyes still wear the dusky night.
MEN ARE HEAVEN'S PIERS
MEN are Heaven's piers; they evermore
Unwearying bear the skyey floor;
Man's theatre they bear with ease,
Unfrowning cariatides!
I, for my wife, the sun uphold,
Or, dozing, strike the seasons cold.
She, on her side, in fairy-wise
Deals in diviner mysteries,
By spells to make the fuel burn
And keep the parlour warm, to turn
Water to wine, and stones to bread,
By her unconquered hero-head.
A naked Adam, naked Eve,
Alone the primal bower we weave;
Sequestered in the seas of life,
A Crusoe couple, man and wife,
With all our good, with all our will,
Our unfrequented isle we fill;
And
victor in day's petty wars,
Each for the other lights the stars.
Come then, my Eve, and to and fro
Let us about our garden go;
And, grateful-hearted, hand in hand
Revisit all our tillage land,
And
marvel at our strange estate,
For hooded ruin at the gate
Sits
watchful, and the angels fear
To see us tread so
boldly here.
Meanwhile, my Eve, with flower and grass
Our perishable days we pass;
Far more the thorn observe - and see
How our
enormous sins go free -
Nor less admire, beside the rose,
How far a little
virtue goes.
THE ANGLER ROSE, HE TOOK HIS ROD
THE angler rose, he took his rod,
He kneeled and made his prayers to God.
The living God sat overhead:
The angler tripped, the eels were fed
SPRING CAROL
WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush,
And clear in the
greenwood quires the thrush,
With sun on the meadows
And songs in the shadows
Comes again to me
The gift of the tongues of the lea,
The gift of the tongues of meadows.
Straightway my olden heart returns
And dances with the dancing burns;
It sings with the sparrows;
To the rain and the (grimy) barrows
Sings my heart aloud -
To the silver-bellied cloud,
To the silver rainy arrows.
It bears the song of the skylark down,
And it hears the singing of the town;
And youth on the highways
And lovers in byways
Follows and sees:
And hearkens the song of the leas
And sings the songs of the highways.
So when the earth is alive with gods,
And the lusty
ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,
And the flowers smile in the shadows,
Sits my heart at ease,
Hearing the song of the leas,
Singing the songs of the meadows.
TO WHAT SHALL I COMPARE HER?
TO what shall I compare her,
That is as fair as she?
For she is fairer - fairer
Than the sea.
What shall be likened to her,
The sainted of my youth?
For she is truer - truer
Than the truth.
As the stars are from the sleeper,
Her heart is hid from me;
For she is deeper - deeper
Than the sea.
Yet in my dreams I view her
Flush rosy with new ruth -
Dreams! Ah, may these prove truer
Than the truth.
WHEN THE SUN COMES AFTER RAIN
WHEN the sun comes after rain
And the bird is in the blue,
The girls go down the lane
Two by two.
When the sun comes after shadow
And the singing of the showers,
The girls go up the meadow,
Fair as flowers.
When the eve comes dusky red
And the moon succeeds the sun,
The girls go home to bed
One by one.
And when life draws to its even
And the day of man is past,
They shall all go home to heaven,
Home at last.
LATE, O MILLER
LATE, O miller,
The birds are silent,
The darkness falls.
In the house the lights are lighted.
See, in the
valley they twinkle,
The lights of home.
Late, O lovers,
The night is at hand;
Silence and darkness
Clothe the land.
TO FRIENDS AT HOME
TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost
The
gracious old, the lovely young, to May
The fair, December the beloved,
These from my blue
horizon and green isles,
These from this
pinnacle of distances I,
The unforgetful, dedicate.
I, WHOM APOLLO SOMETIME VISITED
I, WHOM Apollo
sometime visited,
Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done,
Do
slumberwholly; nor shall know at all
The
weariness of changes; nor perceive
Immeasurable sands of centuries
Drink of the blanching ink, or the loud sound
Of generations beat the music down.
TEMPEST TOSSED AND SORE AFFLICTED
TEMPEST tossed and sore afflicted, sin defiled and care oppressed,
Come to me, all ye that labour; come, and I will give ye rest.