585 3
p
PU R E GO LD
A
C H O I C E O F LY R IC S A N D S O NN E TS
WITH
BY
UCTI ON
EILL
H
:3
9
3
.
3
°
L ONDON : T
67
LO
.
C 8E
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.
N G A C R E,
C J A CK
.
W
AND E DI N BURGH
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C
.
I N T R O DU C T I O N
TH OU G H but few ca n define the word poetry, th ere a r e even
fewer who do n ot r ecognise what the word desc ribes
A gr ea t
c ri t i c h as desc ribed absolute poetr y as
th e conc rete an d
art istic exp ressio n of the hu ma n m i nd i n emot i onal an d
”
r hythmical language
This is a t rue definition in a n age
when it is inc reasingly rare to find any real definition its place
being take n by desc rip t ions of e ffects o r cau ses The wo rds
”
” “
are n ecessary ; fo r we can n ot discard
concrete
artistic
”
“
“
emotio n al or r hythmical co n crete n ess a rt emotio n an d
rhythm being n otes of true poetry
Concrete n ess is perhaps
the note which is leas t comm only r ealised as amon g the
esse n tials of poetry wh i le on reflection of cou rse it is clear
’
that abstraction s have no place as such i n the poet s re
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Wi th ou r gr eat weal t h of English poet ry m ost of us kn ow as
m uch of each of the two great divi s i on s of poetic art t he
dramatic and the lyr i cal
Shak espeare though he is to all
ages and nati ons one of the g reatest dramatic po ets is rep t e
sen ted in th i s volume by e x amples o f ly rical imagi n atio n I n
the dramatic forms of p oetry t he po et does n ot appear ; the
movement unfolds itself as it were fr om its own ine rtia
inevi tably I n ly rical poetry though the matte r may be
objec tive the met h o d mould and motive are personal
Pure ly ric poet ry as the n ame implies h as the elemen t of
music i n it the essence of song : and in fac t it ranges th e
gamut of song in its b road est sense fro m the p sean ( the ode)
to the plaint (the elegy ) and the pasto ral ( the idyll ) But
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IN T R O D UCT IO N
vi
th ese fo rms lik e the sonnet are not o rdin a rily set to o r
a ccom p anied by mus i c w h i l e the song is
The ly ric pr oduced by the H ebrew poets an d p r ese rved in
the Bible is so different in kind from any other lyrics that Mr
”
“
Watts Dunton cal ls it
the Great Ly ric j ust as one may
s p eak of the Great Drama o f Shakespea re E sch ylu s and
Sophocles Two of the i n gr ed i ents of the Great Lyric n u
co n sciousness and powe r are born of the abso rption of the
H ebrew poets i n their subj ect God who co nceived as the
Lord of all being could call fo rth the innermost feelings
Natu rally one cannot pou r for th mo re than the cr use ho l ds
and he n ce these lyrical outpou rin gs of the soul to God pre
sume some depth i n the subjects They ar e marked by a
d i gn i ty a n d gra ce which allows th em to han dle an y subj ect
u n d efilin g and u n d efiled
The re is a law wh i ch governs all poetry indeed bu t mo re
Met re and
especially ly rical poe t ry — the law of n ecessity
rh ythm are both subse r vient to th is law emotio n al urgency
ex cusin g the fantasies of arran gemen t as the lac k of it con
d emn s them
The Od e is a fo rm of lyric in which poeti c fren zy is of the
essence If it follows a n a rr an gement in stan zas it is called
regular ; if it does n ot it is called irregular Of th i s latte r
class Engl ish l i terature is n ot w i thout some famous ex am ples
’
’ “
”
Dryden s Od e fo r S t Cec i lia s Day is a fine specimen an d
’
”
“
Wordswo rth s
even
Od e on Int i mations of Immo rtal i ty
’ “
fine r Of regular odes Shel l ey s Od e to the West Wind
”
’
Keats Od e to a Grec i an Urn and S p en se r s Epithalamion
a re speci mens which can never die
The Song is ly ric p a r ex cellen ce c c a collect io n of verses
In
ad apted for singing pu rposes or actual ly set to musi c
method more spontaneous and melodic it is m ore unive rsal i n
subject than other fo rms of ly ric Th e exam pl es of Burns
quoted in this volume a re good son gs but the fo lklo re of every
c ount ry abou n ds i n so n gs
The Elegy is a mo re ambitious fo rm of lyric than the sonnet
an d its excellen ce draws muc h from pe rfectio n of
o r so n g
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I NTR O D UCTION
vii
fo rm Its motive is regr et o r lamentati o n o n th e death of some
o n e d ea r or less common ly upon the sli ghtness of mo rtal
’
man
Gray s Elegy the m ost celeb rate d i n the En glish
language is a classical example wh i ch sp ri ngs from the latter
’
emotion
Milton s Lycidas a most pe rfect an d beautiful
specime n of th e common e r theme
Of more ambiguous characte r is the Idyll
St rictly it is a
sho rt poem desc rip tive of simple r ustic or pasto ral life and
scenes ; but more loosely the idyll tends to become a d escrip
ti ve o r narrat i ve poem mark ed by a perfection of expression
dealing with chivalry or legend and n early akin to mino r epic
’ “
”
Of this characte r are Tennyson s
I d s of the King which
are unsu rpassed fo r the loft in ess of their cha racter th e pu rity
of thei r lan guage , an d the ample grace of thei r i magina
tive treatment
A n arrowe r p rescri ptio n applies to the So n net, and yet
par tly for this very r easo n pa rtly becau se the poetic fo rm h as
mo re inevitability tha n other forms with loose r limits an d
p artly too because so many gems in so man y cou n t ries have
bee n give n to the wo rld i n this settin g it me rits a m ore
ext en ded treatment A sonnet consists of fou rtee n rh ym ed
ve rses whose arrangemen t as well as n umber is p resc ribed
and n ot a s m all part of the pleasure of a sonnet is due to this
fact Yet this does but desc ribe the shell of the sonnet I ts
inne r sel f h as been well described in a sonnet by Mr T heodore
W atts D un ton the latter par t of which r u ns :
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S onnet i s a wave of melo dy :
F r o m h eavin g wate r s o f th e i m passi on e d so ul
A b i ll ow o f t i dal m u s i c one an d w h o l e
’
F l ows i n t h e oc t a ve th en r e tu rn in g free
’
I ts e bb in g s u rges i n th e S est e t r oll
’
Back to th e d ee p o f Lif e s t u m u lt uo u s sea
A
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This Sestet not only desc ribes th e soul of all son n ets ;
it further gi ves the reason for the p articular fo rm o f son net
”
“
“
which has bee n called variously the Natu ral th e Con
”
“
tempor a ry but mo re co mmonly the Pe t rarchan from the
poet who first made that fo rm im mo rtal thoug h it can be
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INT R O D UCT I O N
vi ii
t race d bac k at least a centu ry befo re his time The so nn et
has ever att racted the grea test poe ts when they w i shed to
ex p ress a s i ngle wave of emotion ; but wh i le the n umber of
verses see ms ever to have been constan t confirmed a pp arently
by a more fundamen tal sanct i on the arrangement h as vari ed
in certai n recognised ways co rrespond i ng to a varying
function
The latte r half of the sestet quoted ad mirably exp resses
the point of the arrangements which are now gene rally
assoc i ated with the pure Petrarcha n form of the so nn et In
it the octave— t h e first e i gh t l i nes — is clearly d i vided from the
sestet The octave h as but two rhymes arranged in t h e o rder
a b b a a b b a while the sestet is quite fr ee to be written in
two or three rhymes arra n ged i n a n y man ner sui table only to
emotional r equ i rements
A sonnet for m which at fi rst sight is ve ry sim ila r to th e
”
“
Contemporary is the M iltonic In ca rryin g the octave on
to the seste t there can be little doubt that M i lton missed th e
very end of the Petrarchan sonnet the rul e of wh i ch he othe r
wise follows But Willia m Sharp included unde r th e te rm
”
“
Miltonic sonnets wh i ch con si sted of th ree quatrai n s of
altern ative r hymes and a cou p let as well as those which
admit of but two rhymes for the octave and two o r th ree fo r
th e sestet only provided they p reserved unbroken con tinuity of
ar rangement This h owever is to associate with Milto n 3
sonnet with wh i ch he h ad nothing to do an d which is mo re
ove r ( unlike the M i l ton sonnets Engl ish Petrarchan ) me rel y
a variant of the Shakes p e arean
The Shakes p earean sonnet consists of th ree quatrains of
altern ate rhymes clinched at the end by a rhymed cou plet
There is some pari ty between th e sestet of the Petrarcha n
son n et and the cou plet the ebb movement being consp i cuous
i n ea c h
But wh i le the Petrarchan form by the fai re r
pro portion of its parts may be compared to a bouquet
bound togethe r i n a s plen d id wrappi ng of cloth of gold
t he Shakes pearean resembles a chap l et of flowe rs pinned by
a si n gle diamond The Petrarchan sestet is more le i su rely
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I NT R O D UCT I ON
ix
and stately : the Shak espearea n couplet mo re instan t an d
crystal
The Shakespearea n sonnet is so called because of the
splend i d use the poet m ade of it j ust as Pet rarch h as for a
l i ke reason give n h is n ame to the olde r form
Drayton
’
”
“
Shakes p eare s contemporary has left i n A Parting ( p 4 4 )
a sonnet i n the Shakespear ea n form th e peer of which is
di ffi cult to find and which is su rp assed by none in the
English tong ue But Shakespeare i n a th read of j ewels once
for al l estab l i shed the English sonnet as an i ndependen t an d
nobl e form
But the sureness of the i r a pp eal and thei r
endur i ng glory does n ot so much l i e as W i lliam S ha rp thought
in t he reve l ation they give of Shakespear e the man of human
pass i ons who is otherwi se known as but stage man ager for
other actors but because they have a ce rtain u niversa l ity of
touc h as indeed have man y of th e first sonnets by othe r
“
write rs This is well ex emplified i n such a p oem as The
Expe n se of Spi rit i n a Was te of Shame ( p
A Shak e
”
“
spe arean so nnet
as Rossetti said
is better than the most
”
per fect in fo rm because Shakespea re wrote it
“
But the whole class fulfil s a d ili e ren t funct i o n
The
”
quest of the Shakespea rea n sonnet says Mr Watts Dunton
“
is not l i ke that of the so nn et of octave and seste t son o rity
an d so to speak met rical cou n te rpo i nt but sweetness ; an d
the sweetest of all possible arrangements in English versifica
tion is a success i on of decasyllabic quatrai n s in alte rn ate
—
u
rhymes k nit togethe r an d cl i nched by a co pl et a couplet
coming not so far from the in i tial verse as to lose its bi nding
power and yet not so near the initi al verse that the ring of
’
‘
e p igram d i sturbs the l i nked sweetness long drawn out of
th i s movemen t but su ffic i ently n ear to shed i ts influence ove r
the poem bac k to the in i tial ve rse A chief pa rt of the
pleasure of the Shak espea rea n sonnet is th e exp ectance of t h e
cl i macteric rest of the couplet at the end (j ust as a chief pa rt
of th e pleasu re of th e so nn et of octave and sestet is the
e x p ectan ce of th e answering ebb of the sestet wh e n the close
of the octave h as bee n reached ) ; a n d this expecta n ce i s
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INT R O D UCT I ON
x
gratified too ea rly if it comes afte r two quat rains while if it
comes after a greate r number o f quatrai ns than three it is
”
dis p erse d and wasted altogether
The genius of the Petrarchan ca n be compared with that of
’
the Shakespearean sonnet by a study of Shakes p eare s sonnets
give n here alongside those of the greatest maste r of th e sonnet
s in ce his time Dante Gabriel Rossetti who is by far the best
“
ex po n ent of the natural fo rm The dominant im p ress i on
le ft on the mind is much that of a compariso n of Ital i an w i t h
Greek art the one warmer the other more maj estic Yet how
far the character of forms with normally a specific effect can
be changed in the song of the mas te r singers can only be
apprec i ated by a careful comparison of the d ifferent sonnets
A great musician can draw the characte r of many d i verse
i nstruments from one A ve ry apt illustratio n of this po i nt is
g i ven by t he s plendid ir r eg u la r sonnet of Wordswo rth On
the Ex ti ncti on of the Venetian Republi c
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I n th is tiny an thology I can n ot say I have chose n the best
lyrics in the Engl is h lang uage It may se em to some that
like the legendary child I have attempted to bale the sea with
a s p oon Bu t I th ink I can say that n o poem has been
included which is not worthy of being held i n pe rpetual
memory I have strive n to m ake a sh eaf of golde n corn i n
which each ear should be pe rfect Whe ther I have succeeded
’
r ests with othe rs to j udge Some long lyri cs like S p enser s
”
“
E pithalamion have been given in full ; and I can not but
t h in k that, eve n i n so small a collectio n they ar e worthy of
the s pace
W i th the exceptio n of a few poems, n o n e which ar e not
out of cop yright have been included I must thank th ose who
have k i n dl y given me permiss i on to include copyri ght poems :
’
Mrs H enley ( H enley s
Mr Wilfri d Meynell
’
“
Thom
p
The
Messrs
El
l
is
D
G
Rosse
t
t
i
son s
(
(
”
“
S i byll a Pal m ifera and
Lo vesigh t
Messrs M acm i llan
”
’
C
Tennyson
Turner
Letty
s
Globe
a
n
d
G
eo
r
e
Be
l
l
and
g
(
)
Son ( Cove n try Patmo re, The Toys
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I NT R O D UCT I O N
Fi n ally,
xi
I have to thank Mr Theodore Watts D an ton for
allowi ng me to p rint the ded i catory sonnet from Tr i stram o f
“
Lyo n esse and the F i rst Chorus from
Atalanta in Calydon
fo r many valuable suggestions and for the interest he has
bee n kind e n ough to ta k e th roughout the compilation of the
selectio n
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C O N T E N TS
Sin ce First I Saw Yo u r Face
T he
.
Fo rsak en Merman
BR OWNI N G Bo n ne r
,
In
BUR NS
,
a
Gond
Ro u n
A Red
,
o la
c
Red Rose
.
Y e Mar in e rs of En glan d
Say
N
no t
th e
o
S truggle N aught A vai let h
o
o
o
o
o
O
C ONTE NTS
xiv
COLRRID O R, S AMU EL T AYLO R
KU b la Kh an
0
WIL LIAM
Lin es on Re ce i vin g
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
0
o
o
9
o
o
COWP RR ,
his
’
M oth er s Pictu re
T h e WOOPC I o
'
DE VRRR, AUBREY
T h e S u n GOd
'
D RAY TO N
,
c
MICHAEL
’
S ong fo r S t Cec ilia s Day
.
,
1 687
E LLI O T J EAR
,
T h e Flower s o f th e Forest
GO LD S MITH O LIVE R
,
W om an
GRA Y
TH OMA S
,
H ERRICK , RO BERT
D elight i n Diso rd
To
H OWARD
en
th e Virgi ns t o Mak e Muc h
,
E ARL
of
Ti me
S URREY
Vo w to Love Fai thfu ll y h owsoe ver h e be
JO NS O N
,
,
or
BEN
T o Ce lia
K EA TS J OHN
,
Last So n net
La Be lle D ame sans Merc i
Od
e on a
Grec ian Urn
Rewarded
CONTE NTS
Th e
’
Maid s La m ent
T h e N ameless
61
On e
H ym n o n the M orni ng
Lyc i d as
So n net on his Blin d n
of
’
Christ s Nati vit y
70
76
PATM O RE CO VENTR Y
T h e T oys
,
P OE ED GAR
,
76
ALLAN
An n abel Lee
P O PE
,
77
ALEX AND ER
T he Dyi ng Chr ist ia n to
h is
S oul
79
R O SS ETTI, CHR I STINA G
R em em be r
.
79
ROSSE TI I , D ANTE GABRIE L
T h e B le ssed Damoz e l
'
S ibylla Palmifera
O
O
O
O
O
O
S HAKES PEARE WILLIAM
S ong fro m M uc h Ad o A bou t N othi ng
S o n nets
’
S hall I compare thee to a su mm er s d ay
’
T h ex pe nse Of spiri t in a waste Of sham e
Let m e no t to the m arriage o f t rue mi n d s
Bei n g you r slave w hat sh ould I d o b ut ten d
O
,
87
87
,
SH ELLEY PER C Y B Y SSH E
O d e to the W est W in d
Th e I n di a n Se re n ad e
,
89
92
xw
C ONT E NTS
Pm
S P EN S ER E D MU ND
Epi thalam i on
,
94
SWI NBURNE ALGERN ON CHARLES
TO T h eod ore W atts D u n to n ( De dic a to ry
tra m Of Ly o n esse an d other P oe m s)
Fi rst Choru s fro m Atalanta
,
-
1 06
,
1 07
T ENNY S O N,
LO R D
T he Lad y o f Sh alott
1 09
TH OMP S O N, FRANCIS
T h e Poppy
TURNER
,
CHAR LES T ENN Y S O N
’
L etty s
WALLER
,
1 14
Glo b e
1 17
ED MUND
GO ,
Lovely Ro se
1 18
WHITE JO S EPH B LANC O
,
To
Night
1 18
W ORD SWORTH WILLIAM
I n tim at i ons Of I m m ort al i ty fro m R ec o ll ec tio ns of
Childh ood
On the E x t inc ti on o f t h e Venetia n Re pu b lic
,
S UGGE STI ON S
F OR
FUR THE R R EAD ING
Ea rly
1 19
125
1 26
P U RE
GO L D
SINCE FIRST I SAW YOU R FACE
S IN CE first I saw you r face I resolved to honour an d
renown ye
If now I be disdain ed I wish my hea rt had neve r
known ye
What ? I that loved an d you that liked shall we begi n
to wrangle ?
No n o no my hea rt is fast and cann ot di sen tan gle
,
.
,
,
,
,
,
.
If I admi re o r p raise you t oo much that fault you may
forgive me ;
’
Or if my hands h ad st ray d but a touch then j ustly might
you leave me
’
’
I ask d you leave you bade me love ; is t n ow a t i me
to chide me ?
’
’
No no n o , I ll love you sti ll what fo rtune e er betide me
,
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,
The Sun wh ose beams most glor i ous a re rejec teth no
beholder
An d your sweet beauty past com p are made my poo r eyes
th e bolder
Whe re beauty moves and wit deligh ts and signs of k in d
ness bind me
’
’
There 0 the re ! whe re e r I go I ll leave m y hea rt
behi n d me
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17
AN O NYM O US ( ci r ca
B
1 600)
18
TH E
TH E
F O RS AK E N M E RMAN
F ORSAKEN MERMAN
C O M E dea r ch ild ren let us away
Down and away below
Now m y b rothers call from the bay
Now the great winds shoreward blow ;
Now the salt t i des seawards fl o w
Now the wi ld white horses play
C ham p and chafe and toss i n the sp ray
Chil d ren dear let us away ,
This way this way !
,
,
,
,
.
,
,
Call
her once before you go
Call o n ce yet
In a vo i ce that sh e will kn ow :
Margaret
Margaret !
’
Ch ildr en s vo i ces sh ould be dear
’
Ca
l
on
e
more
to
a
mother
s
ea
r
l
c
(
)
’
Chil d ren s voices wild wi t h pai n
S u rely she will come agai n
Call her on ce and come away
This way this way !
”
Moth er dear we cannot stay
The wild white horses foam and fret
Margaret ! Margaret
.
,
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,
,
,
,
.
Come dear ch i ldren come away down
Call no more
’
On e las t look at the wh i te wall d town
And the l i ttle grey church on the w i ndy sho re
Then come down
She will not come though you call all day
C ome away come away
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TH E
20
C hildre n
F O RS A KE N M E RM A N
dea r were we long alone ?
The sea grows storm y the l i ttl e ones moan
”
Long p rayers I sa i d
in the worl d they say
Come I said and we rose through the su rf in the bay
We went up the beach by the sandy down
’
Whe re the sea stocks bloom to th e white wall d to wn
Th rough the narro w paved streets where all was sti ll
To the little grey ch urch on the windy h ilL
From the ch urch came a murm ur of folk at their p rayers
But we stood with out i n the cold blowing ai rs
’
We climb d o n the graves o n the stones worn wi t h
rams
An d we gazed up the aisle through the small lead ed panes
She sate by the pillar we saw her clear :
“
Margaret h ist come qu i ck we are he re
”
Dear heart I said
we are l ong alone
The sea grows stormy the l i ttle ones moan
But ah she gave m e never a look
’
For her eyes were scal d to the ho l y book
Loud prays the p riest shut stands the doo r
Come away children call no more
Come away come away call n o more
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Do wn down down ;
Down t o the depths of th e sea
She s i ts at her wheel in the humming tow n ,
S i nging most j oyfully
“
H ark what she s i ngs :
0 joy 0 j oy
For the h u m ming street and the ch i l d with i ts t oy
For the priest and the bell and the holy well
For the wheel where I s p un
And the blesse d l i gh t Of the sun
And so she sings her fill
S i nging most joyfull y
Till the shut tle fal l s from her hand
And the whizzi ng wheel s ta nds s t i l l
She steals to the window an d looks at the san d ;
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F O RSA KE N M E RM A N
TH E
21
And ove r the sand at the sea ;
And her eyes are set i n a stare
And anon the re breaks a s i gh
And anon the re drops a tear
From a so rrow c louded eye
And a hea rt sorrow laden
A long long s i gh
For the cold strange eyes of a little Me rmaiden
An d the gleam of her go l den hai r
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Come away away children
Come ch i l dren come dow n
The hoarse wind blows colde r :
Lights shine in the town
She will start from her slumbe r
When gu sts shake the doo r ;
She will hea r the winds howli n g
Wi ll h ear th e waves roar
We shall see while above us
The waves roar an d whirl
A ce ili ng of amber
A pavement of pearl
S in ging H ere came a mo rtal
But fa i thless was sh e :
An d alone dwe ll for ever
The kings of the sea
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But ch i ldren at midnight,
Whe n so ft the winds bl o w ;
W hen clear falls the moo nligh t ;
When s pring ti des are low :
When sweet ai rs come seaward
’
F rom heaths starr d wi t h broom ;
The high rocks th row m ild l y
’
On the blan ch d sands a gloom
,
,
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TO S P RI N G
22
Up the still glistenin g beach es
Up the c reeks we wi ll hie
Over banks of b right seaweed
The ebb tide leaves d ry
We wi ll gaze from t ne sand hills
At the white slee pi ng town
At the ch u rch on the hil l side
And then come back down
Singing The re dwells a loved one,
But c r uel is sh e
She left lonely for ever
T h e ki n gs of the sea
MA TT HE W A RN OL D ( 1 822 —
1 88
8)
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TO
O T H OU
SPRING
with dewy locks who lookest do wn
Through the clear wi ndows of the morning tu rn
Th i ne angel eyes upon our western isle
Which in full choi r hails thy app roach 0 Sp ring
,
,
,
,
The h i lls tell one
Valleys h ear : all
Up to t h y b righ t
And let thy holy
3
another and the listening
’
our longing ey es are t u rn d
pavilions : issue fo rth
feet v i sit our clime !
,
’
Come o er the easte rn hills and let our winds
K i ss thy pe rfu m ed garmen ts l et u s taste
Thy morn and even i ng b reath sca tt er thy pearls
Upo n ou r lovesick land that mou rn s fo r thee
,
.
deck her fo rth with thy fair fin ge rs pour
Thy soft k isses on her bosom and put
’
Thy golden crown u p on her lan gu ish d h ead
Whose modest t resses a re bound up fo r thee
W ILLI AM BL AK E ( 1 7 57
O
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1 82 7 )
LAS T LIN ES
23
LAST LINES
N O coward soul is m i ne
’
No trembler in the world s sto rm t roubled sphe re :
’
I see H eaven s glories sh in e
An d faith S h i nes equal arming me from fear
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0 God Within
my breast
A l mighty eve r present De i ty !
Life —that i n me h as r est
As I—u n dying Li fe — have powe r i n Thee
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,
,
Va i n are the thousand c reeds
’
That move men s hearts unutte rably vai n ;
’
Wort hless as wit h er d weeds,
Or id l est froth amid the boundless main
.
To wake n doubt in one
H oldi n g so fast by Thine i n fin ity ;
’
So surely an ch o r d o n
Th e steadfast roc k of immo rtality
.
With wide embrac i ng lo e
Thy Sp irit animates eternal year s
Pervades and broods above
Changes sustains d issolves creates an d rears
v
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Though earth and man were go n e
And suns and unive rses cease to be
And Thou wert left alone
Eve ry existence would exist in Thee
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There is not room for Death
No r a t om that his m ight could render void :
Thou — Thou art Be i ng and Breath
An d what Th ou art may neve r be destroyed
,
,
.
EM ILY BRO N T E ( 1 81 8—
4 8)
18
24
TH E
LAST R I DE T O G E T H E R
TH E
’
S OUL S EX PRESSI ON
WIT H stamme ring l ip s and insuffic i ent sound
I stri ve and s t ruggle to del i ve r righ t
The mus i c of my nature day and n i ght
With dream and t hough t and fee l i ng i nterwound
And inly answeri ng all the senses round
W i th octaves o f a m ysti c de p t h and hei ght
Wh i ch s tep out grandly to t he i nfin i te
F rom t he dark edges of t he sensual grou nd
Th i s song of soul I struggle to ou tbear
Thro u gh p ortal s o f the sense subli me and whole
An d utter a l l myself into the a i r ;
But if I d i d it — as the thunder roll
B reaks its own cloud my flesh would p e rish the re
Before that dread apocaly p se of soul
E B A RRE TT BRO WN I NG (1 809 1 861 )
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TH E
LAST RIDE TO GET H ER
I S AI D— th en dearest s i n c e t i s so
Since now at lengt h m y fate I know
Since n othin g a n my love avails
’
Since all my l i fe see m d meant for fails
S i nce this was wri t ten and n eeds must be
M y who l e heart ri ses u p to bless
Your name i n p ri de and thankful ness !
Take back the ho p e you gave — I clai m
Only a memory o f the same
And th i s bes i d e if you w i ll not blame ;
And leave for one more last ride with me
’
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My mist ress bent that brow of hers
Th ose dee p dark eyes where pri de demu rs
When p i t y would be so ftening through
’
Fix d me a breath i ng whi l e or two
With life or death in the balan ce : right !
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TH E
LAST R I D E TO GE TH E R
25
’
blood replen isb d m e again
My las t though t was at least n o t vain :
I and my mist ress s i de by s i de
Shall be toge t her brea t he an d ride
So one day more am I dei fied
Who knows but the world may e n d to n ight ?
Th e
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H ush if you saw some western
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’
All billowy boso m d , over how d
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cloud
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—
By many benedictio n s sun s
’
’
And moon s and evening star s at once
And so you look i ng and lovin g best
Con scious grew yo u r passion drew
Cloud sunset m oonri se star S h i ne too
Down on you near and yet more near
T i ll flesh must fade for heaven was here
’
Th us leant she and linger d — j oy and fear !
Thus lay she a moment on my breast
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Then we began to ri de My soul
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S m oo th d i tself out a long cram p d scro ll
Freshening and flutte ring in the w i nd
Past ho p es already lay beh i nd
What need to stri ve with a life awry ?
H ad I sa i d that had I don e th i s
So m ight I gain so migh t I miss
M i ght she have loved me ? j ust as well
She m i gh t have hated who can tell
Where had I been now i f the worst befell ?
And he re we are riding sh e an d I
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Fail I alone in wo rds an d d eeds ?
Why all men st rive and who succeed s ?
’
We rode it see m d my S pirit flew
Saw other regions cities new
’
As the world rush d by o n eithe r sid e
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26
TH E
T O GETH ER
LAS T R I D E
I though t— all labour yet n o less
Bear u p beneath t heir unsuccess
Look at the end o f work contras t
The petty done the undone vast
This present of thei rs with the ho peful past !
I hoped sh e would love me here we ri de
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What han d and bra i n we n t eve r pair d ?
What heart ali ke conceived and da red ?
What act proved all i ts th ought h ad been ?
What wi ll but felt the fl eshly screen ?
We ride and I see her boso m heave
’
There s many a c rown for who can reac h
’
Te n lines a statesman s li fe in each
The flag stuck on a heap of bones
’
A soldier s doi ng ! what atones ?
They sc ratch h i s n ame o n the Abbey stones
My riding is better by their leave
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What does it all mean poet ? Well
Your brai n s beat into rhythm you te ll
’
What we felt only you ex press d
You hold th i ngs beauti ful the best
And pace the m i n rhyme so side by side
’
’
T i s something nay t i s much but then
’
H ave you yourself what s best for men ?
Are y o u — poor sick old ere your time
Nearer one whit your own sublim e
’
Than we w h o never h ave turu d a rhyme ?
’
Si n g riding s a j oy ! For me I ride
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And you great sc u l p tor—so you gave
A score o f years to Art h er s l ave
’
An d that s your Ven us whence we turn
To yonde r girl that fords the burn
You acquiesce and shall I repine ?
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J EA N
I N A G OND OLA
’
moth s kiss first !
Kiss me as if you made bel i eve
You were not sure th i s eve
H ow my face you r flower h ad pu rsed
I ts petals u p ; so here and there
You brush it till I grow aware
Who wants me and wide ope I burst
TH E
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The bee s k iss n ow
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Kiss me as if you e n ter d gay
My heart at some noonday
A bud t hat dares not d i sal l ow
’
The clai m so all is ren d er d up
’
And passively its S h at te r d cu p
Ove r you r head to S leep I bow
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ROBER T BRO WN I NG
JEAN
’
a the ai rts the wind can blaw
I dearly l i ke the west
F or there the bonie lass i e lives
’
The lassie I lo e best :
The re wild woods gr ow an d rive rs row
And monie a h ill betwee n ;
’
But day and n ight my fancy s flight
’
Is eve r wi my Jean
O?
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I see he r in the dewy flowe rs
I see her sweet an d fa i r :
’
I hear her in t he t u n efu bird s
I hear he r charm the air :
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,
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F ON D
AE
KISS
’
The re s n ot a bon i e flower that s prings
By foun ta i n S haw or green
’
There s not a bonie b i rd that s ings
’
But mi nds me o my Jea n
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ROBERT BUR N S
A
RED,
RED
R OSE
is lik e a red red rose
’
That s newly s p rung in June :
0 my lu ve is like the m elod ic
’
’
That s sweetly play d in tune !
0,
MY
lu ve
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,
,
As fair a rt thou my bonie lass
So dee p in lu ve am I
And I w ill lu ve thee s t i ll my dear
’
Till a the seas gang d ry
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Till a the seas gang d ry my dear
’
And the rocks melt wi t he sun
I will lu ve thee s t i l l my dear
’
While the sands 0 l i fe Shall r un
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A nd fare thee weel my only lu ve
An d fare thee weel a wh ile !
An d I will come aga i n m y luv s
’
Tho it were te n thousand m i le
,
,
,
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R OBER T
AE
B URN S
FOND KISS
AR fond kiss , and then we sever ;
As farewel l , and then for ever
’
Deep in hea rt wrung tears I ll pledge thee,
’
Warri ng sighs and groa n s I ll wage thee !
-
30
TH E
IS LE S O F G R EECE
Who shall say that Fo rtu n e grieves him
Wh i le the s tar of hope sh e leaves him ?
’
Me nae ch ee rfu twinkle ligh ts me
Dark des pair around benights me
,
,
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’
’
I ll ne er blame m y partial fancy ;
N ae t h in g could r es i st my Nancy ;
But to see her was to love her
Love but he r and love fo r ever
,
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,
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H ad
H ad
we neve r lov d sae ki n d ly
’
we never loy d sae blindly
Never met — or never p a rted
’
We had ne er been broken hea rted
,
,
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Fare thee weel thou first and fai r est
Fare thee weel thou best and dearest !
Thine be i lka j oy and treasure
Peace Enj oyment Love an d Pleasu re
,
,
,
,
,
Ae
,
!
fond k i ss and then we sever
A e farewel l alas for ever 1
’
Dee p in hea rt wr ung tears I ll pledge thee
’
Warring s i ghs an d groan s I ll wage thee
,
,
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,
ROBERT BUR N S
TH E
OF GREECE
ISLES
isles of Greece the isles of Greece !
Where burn i ng Sa pp ho loved and sung
Where grew the art s of war and peace
Where Delos rose and P h oebus sprung !
Eternal su mmer gilds them ye t
But all ex cept their sun is se t
TH E
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TH E IS L ES
O F G REEC E
31
The Scian and the Teian muse
’
’
The hero s harp the lover s lute
H ave found the fame you r shores r efuse
Their p lace of birth alone is mute
To so u nds which ech o further west
’
”
Than your si r es Islan ds of the Blest
,
,
,
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The mountai ns look o n Marathon
And Maratho n looks o n the sea ;
An d m u s ing there an hour alone
’
I d ream d that Greece migh t still be free ;
’
For stand i ng on the Pers i ans grave
I could not dee m myself a S lave
,
,
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king sate o n the r ocky b row
’
Wh i ch looks o er sea born Salam is :
An d ships by thousand s lay below
An d me n i n nations —
all were his
H e counted th em at break of day
An d whe n the su n set where were they ?
A
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,
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A n d where are they and where art thou
My country ? On t hy voice l ess shore
The heroic lay is tune l ess n ow
The heroic bosom beats n o mo re
And must thy lyre so l ong d i vine
Degene rate into h an ds lik e min e ?
,
,
’
Tis someth ing in the dea r th of fame
’
’
Though l i nk d among a fe t te r d race
’
To feel at least a pa t ri ot s shame
Even as I sing sufi u se my face
For what is left t he poe t here ?
Fo r Greeks a blush — for Greece a tear
,
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'
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,
32
TH E
I S LES
G REECE
OF
’
Must we but wee p o er days more blest ?
Mus t we but bl ush —our fathers bled
Ear t h render back from ou t thy breas t
A remnan t o f our S partan dead
Of the three hundred grant but three
To make a new Th er m opylie !
.
,
What s i lent still ? and S i lent all ?
Ah no —the vo i ces Of the d ead
’
Sound like a d i stan t torrent s fall
“
An d answer
Let one li v i ng head
”
—
But one arise we come we come !
’
Tis but the li ving who ar e dumb
,
,
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,
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In vain — in vai n : stri ke othe r chords
F i ll h i gh the cu p with Sam i an wine !
Leave battl es to t he Turk i sh hordes
’
And shed the bl ood of Sc i o s v i ne !
H ark ! ri s i ng to the i gnoble cal l
H ow answers each bold Bacchan al !
,
You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet ;
W here i s t h e Pyrr h i c phal an x gone ?
Of two suc h lessons why forget
The nobler and the manl i er one ?
You have the letters Cadmus gave
Th i nk ye he m eant them for a slave ?
,
Fill h i gh the bowl with Sami an wine !
We wi l l not th i nk of t hem es l i ke these
’
It made An acreo n s song d i vine
H e serve d — but served P olycrates
A tyr ant but ou r m asters then
We re still at least ou r count rymen
,
,
.
!
O F GRE ECE
T H E ISL ES
33
tyrant of the Chersonese
’
Was freedom s best and bravest friend :
That tyrant was M i l tiades
O that the present hour wo ul d lend
Another des p ot of the kind
S uch chains as h i s were sure to bind
Th e
.
F i ll high the bowl with Sam i an wine
’
’
On S u li s rock and Parga s shore
E x ists the remnant of a line
Such as the Dori c mothers bo re
And there p erha p s some seed is sown
The H eracleidan blood m i gh t own
,
,
,
,
,
.
T rust not fo r freedom to the Franks
They have a king who buys and sells
In nati ve swords and n ative ranks
The only hope of courage dwells :
But Turkish force and Lat i n fraud
Would brea k your shield howeve r b road
,
.
Fill high the bowl with Samian wine
Ou r v i rg i ns dance beneath the shade
I see the i r glor i ous black eyes S h i ne
But gaz i ng on each glowi ng mai d
My own the burn i ng tear dro p laves
T o think such b reasts m us t suckle slaves
,
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,
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’
Place me on S u n iu m s m arbled stee p
Where nothing save th e waves and I,
May h ear o u r mutual m urmurs sweep
The re swan li ke let me s i ng and die
’
A land of slaves shall ne er be m i n e
Das h dow n you cup of Samian wine
,
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,
,
—
L O R D BY RO N ( 1 7 88 1 824 )
C
Y E M A RIN E RS O F EN GLAN D
YE MARINERS
EN GLAND
OF
YE
marine rs of Englan d
That guard our n ative seas
Whose flag h as braved a thousan d years
The battl e and the bree ze
Your glori ous standard laun ch again
To match another foe
And swee p t hrough the deep
Wh i le the s t ormy winds do blow !
While the battle rages loud an d lon g
A n d the stormy winds do blow
,
,
,
,
.
The spiri ts of you r fathe rs
Shall start from eve ry wave
For the deck it was their field of fame
And Ocean was thei r grave :
Where Blake and migh ty Nelso n fell
Your manly h ea rts shall glow
As ye swee p through the deep
Wh i le the storm y winds do blow
Wh il e the battle rages loud and lon g
An d the stormy wi nds do blow
,
,
,
,
.
B ritan nia n eeds n o bulwa rk s
No towers along the stee p
’
H e r march i s o er the moun tain waves ,
H er home is on the deep
W i th thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore
When the stormy winds do blow !
When the battle rages loud and long
An d the stormy win ds do blow
,
-
.
,
.
.
36
KU RLA K H AN
NIGH T
TH E
c rackli n g embe rs on the h earth a re dead
The indoor note of industry is sti ll ;
The latch is fast upon the win dow sill
Th e smal l b ir ds wai t not fo r their daily b read ;
The vo i celess fl owers— how qui etly they shed
Their nightly odours — and the household rill
Murmurs continuous dulcet sounds that fill
The vacan t ex p ecta t i on and the dr ead
Of lis tening ni ght
And haply now she sleeps ;
For all the garrulous no i ses of the air
’
Are h ush d in peace the soft dew silent weeps,
Lik e ho peless lovers for a maid so fai r
Oh that I we re t he happ y dr eam that creeps
To he r so ft hea rt to find my image there
H OOLERI DG E ( 1 7 96 1 84 9)
-
,
.
.
,
-
.
KUBLA K H AN
I N X anadu
did Ku h la Khan
A state l y pleasure dome decree :
Where Al p h the sacred river ra n
Through caverns m easureless to man
Dow n to a sunless sea
So twi ce five m i l es of fertile grou n d
Wi th wal l s and towers were girdled roun d :
And there were gardens b right with s i nuous rills
’
Whe re blossom d many a n incense bearing t ree
And here were forests anc i ent as the hills
Enfold i ng s u nny spots of greenery
-
,
,
.
-
,
.
But 0 that deep romantic chasm wh i ch slanted
Down the green h ill athwart a c eda rn cove r !
KUBLA K H AN
37
A savage place ! as holy and enchan ted
’
As e er beneath a waning m oo n was haunte d
By woman wailing for h er demon lover !
An d from this chasm with ceaseless tu rmoi l se eth in g
As if th i s earth in fast thick pan t s we re brea thin g
A mighty fountai n m omently was forced :
Am i d whose sw i ft half interm i tted burst
H uge fragmen ts vaulted like reboun d i ng h ail
’
Or c h afiy g rain beneath the thresher s flail :
’
An d m i d t hese dancing rocks at once an d eve r
I t flung up momently the sacred ri ver
Five m iles meanderi ng with a mazy motion
Through wood and d ale th e sacred river ran
’
Then reac h d the caverns measureless to man
An d sank i n tumu l t to a l ifeless ocean
’
And m i d this tumult Ku b la heard from far
Ancestral voice s prophesying war !
-
,
,
,
-
,
‘
.
,
,
The shad ow of the dome of pleasu re
Floated m i dway on the waves
Where was hea rd the m i ngled measu re
From the fountai n and the caves
It was a m iracle of ra re d ev i ce
A sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcime r
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyss i n ia n maid
And on her d u lc i me r sh e played
S i nging of Mo u n t Abo ra
Cou l d I re vive with i n me
H er symphony and song
’
To such a deep delight twould wi n me
That with music loud and long
I would bui ld that dome in ai r
That sunny dome those caves of ice
An d all who heard sho u ld see th em ther e,
,
.
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-
,
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,
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,
WI LLIA M CO W PE R
A n d all should c ry Be wa re ! Beware !
H is flas hing eyes his floati ng hair !
Weave a ci rcle round him t h ri ce
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey dew hath fed
And drunk the m ilk of Pa radise
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S AM UEL TAY LOR C OLERI D G E ( 1 7 7 2
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1 834 )
WILLIAM C OWPER
L IN ES
ON RE C E IV IN G H rs
’
M O T H E R S P I C T U RE
those li p s b ad lan guage ! Life h as passed
W i th me but r oughly since I h ea rd thee last
Those l ip s are thine— thy own sweet smiles I see
The same that o ft in ch i ldhood solaced me ;
Vo i ce onl y fails else how distinct they say
”
—
Gri eve not m y ch i ld chase all thy fears away !
Th e meek in telligence of those dear eyes
Blest
be
the
a
r
t
that
can
immorta
l
ise
(
’
The art that baffles T i me s tyrann ic claim
To quench i t ) h ere sh i nes on m e still the same
Faithful remembrancer of one so dear
O welcome guest though une x pected he re !
’
W ho bid st me h onour w i th an artless so n g
Afl ect ion at e a mother lost so long
I wi l l obey not w i ll i ngly alone
Bu t glad l y as t he prece p t were he r o wn :
And wh i l e that face renews my fil ial grief
Fancy S hall weave a charm for my rel i ef
Shall stee p me in Elys i an reveri e
A momen tary dream that thou a rt sh e
My mother ! when I learnt tha t thou wast dead
Say wast thou co n scio u s of the tea rs I shed ?
0 T H AT
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39
WI LLIA M C O WPE R
’
H overed
thy s p iri t o er thy sorrowi ng so n,
’
Wretc h even then life s j ourn ey j us t begun ?
’
Perhaps thou gav st me though u n seen a kiss
Per haps a tear if sou ls ca n weep in bl i ss
Ah that maternal sm ile it answers — y es
I heard the bell tolled on thy b u rial day
I saw the h earse that bore thee slow away
And tu rn in g fro m my n u rse ry win dow d rew
A long long s i gh an d wep t a last adieu !
But was it such —I t was Where thou ar t go n e
Adieus and farewells ar e a sound u n known
May I but m ee t th ee o n that peaceful shore
The part i ng wo rd shall pass my lips no more
Thy mai dens grieved themselves at my conce rn ,
0ft gave me prom ise of thy qu i ck r et u rn
What ardently I wished I long believed
And disa pp oin ted still was sti ll deceived
By expectation eve ry day beguiled
D upe of to morrow even from a child
Thus many a sad to morrow came and wen t
Ti ll all my stoc k of i nfant sorrow spent
I learnt at last submiss i on to my lot
’
But though I less dep lored thee ne er forgot
Where once we dwelt our name is heard no mo re,
Childr en not thine have trod my nurse ry floor ;
An d where the ga rdener Robi n day by day
Drew me to school along the publ i c way
Del i ghted with my bauble coach and wrapped
In scarlet mantle warm and velvet ca p t
’
Tis now become a h i s to ry little known
That once we called the pasto ral house ou r ow n
Sho rt lived possess i on but the reco rd fair
That memo r y kee ps of all thy kin d ness there
Still outlives many a storm that has efiaced
A thousand other themes less deep l y traced :
Thy n i ghtly visits to m y chamber paid
’
That t h ou might st kn ow me safe an d warmly laid ;
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WIL LIA M C O WPE R
Thy mo rn ing bounti es e re I le ft my home
The biscuit or co n fectionery plum
The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed
By th i ne own hand t i l l fresh they shone and glowed ;
All th i s and more en d earing st ill than al l
T h y constan t flow o f l ove that knew no fall
’
Ne er rough ened by those cataracts and b reaks
That humour i nter p osed too oft en makes ;
’
All th i s st i ll legible i n memory s page
And s t i l l to be so till my latest age
Adds j oy to du t y makes me glad to pay
Such honours to thee as my numbe rs may ;
Perhap s a fra i l memorial but sincere
Not scorn ed in H eaven though l i ttle n oti ced he re
Could T i me h i s fli ght reversed restore the hou rs
’
When playing with thy vesture s tissued flowers
The v i olet the p i nk the j essam i ne
I p ri cked them i nto paper wi th a pin
And
thou
wast
happ
i
er
than
myself
the
wh
i
le
(
Wouldst softly speak and stroke my head and sm i le )
Could those few pleasant days again a pp ear
Might one wish b ri n g them would I w i sh them
here
I woul d not tru st my hea rt —the dear deligh t
Seems so to be desired perhap s I migh t
But no — what here we call our life is such
So little to be lovcd an d thou so much
That I should i l l requite thee to constrai n
Thy unbound s p irit into bonds agai n
’
Th ou as a gallant bark from Albion s coast
The
storms
all
weathered
and
the
ocean
crossed
(
)
Shoots into port as some well have n ed isle
Where s pices breathe and b righ ter seasons sm ile
There s i ts quiescent on the floods that show
H e r beauteous for m reflected clear below
Wh i le a i rs im p regnated w i t h incense play
Around he r fanni ng light he r streame rs gay ;
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TH E
WEEPE R
41
So thou with sails how s wift hast reach ed the sho re
”
Where tempests neve r beat n or billows roar
An d thy loved conso rt on th e dangerous tide
Of L ife lon g since h as anchored at th y side
But me sca rce h Opin g to atta i n that rest
Always fro m p ort withhel d always distressed
Me howling wi nds d ri ve dev i ous tem p est tossed
Sails r ipped seams open i ng wi d e and compass lost,
’
And day by day some current s thwarti ng force
Sets me more distant from a prosperous course
Yet 0 the thought that thou art safe and b e !
That thought is j oy arrive what may to me
My boast i s not that I deduce my birth
F rom lo i ns enthro n ed and ru lers of th e earth
But h i gher far my proud pretensions rise
The so n of p arents passed i nto the skies
And n ow far ewell — T i me unrevoked has ru n
H is wonted cou rse yet what I w i shed i s done
’
By co n templat i on s help not sought in vai n
’
I seem to have lived my childh ood o er agai n
To have renewed the joys that once were min e
Without the sin of violat i ng thine
An d wh i l e the wings of Fancy still are free,
And I can vi ew th is m im i c show o f thee
Time h as but half suc ceeded i n his theft
Thyself removed thy powe r to soothe me left
WILLI AM C O W P ER ( 1 7 31 1 800)
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TH E
WEEPER
H AI L,
sister sp rings
Parents of s i lver footed rills
Ever bubbling things
Thawing c rystal snowy hills
Still s pend i ng n ever s pent ; I mea n
Thy fair eyes, sweet Magda lene
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42
TH E
WEEP E R
H eaven s
thy fair ey es be ;
H eave n s of eve r fal l i ng stars
’
Tis seed t i me s t i ll with thee
’
An d stars thou sow st whose ha rvest dares
Pro mi se the earth to countersh i ne
’
Whatever makes H eaven s forehead fin e
-
-
,
Eve ry m o rn from hence
A bri sk cherub so mething s i ps,
Whose so ft influence
Adds sweetness t o h is sweetest lips
Then to h is mus i c : and h is song
Tastes of this breakfast all day lon g
,
.
Whe n some new bri ght guest
Takes u p among the sta rs a room
And H eaven w i ll make a feas t
An gels with their bottles come
And draw from these ful l eyes of th i ne
’
Thei r Master s wa t er their own win e
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Th e dew no more wi ll weep
’
The p ri mrose s pale ch eek to dec k
The dew no more wi ll sleep
’
N uzz led in the lily s neck
Much rather would it tr emble he re
And leave them both to be thy tea r
,
.
When sorrow would be seen
I n her bri ghtest maj esty
For she i s a Q ueen
Then i s she drest by none but thee :
Then and on l y then she wears
H er richest pearls—I mean thy tears
,
.
.
A PA RTIN G
44
We go n ot to seek
’
The d a r lin gs of A u r or a s bed
,
’
The r ose s
m od est ch eek,
’
th e vio le t s h u m ble h ead
No su ch th i n g : we go to meet
’
—
A wo rth ier obj ect cm L or d sfeet
N or
.
:
C R A SH AW ( 1 61 3
R
-
.
1650)
SUN—GOD
TH E
I
.
the M aster of the Sun H e stood
H i gh in his lum i nous car himself more b right ;
An A rcher of immeasu rable might :
On his left shoulder hung h is quivered load
S p urned by his steeds the eastern mountai ns glowed
Forward his eager eye and brow of light
H e bent and W hile both h ands that a rch embowed ,
Shaft afte r shaft pur sued the flyi n g night
No wings p ro faned that god like form : arou n d
H is neck h i gh held an eve r mov i ng crowd
Of locks h ung glisten i ng : while such pe rfect so u n d
’
Fell from h is bowstring that t h ethereal dome
Th ri lled as a dew drop and each passing cloud
Expanded whitening like the ocean foam
S AW
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A UBREY D E
V ERE
( 1 81 4 1 902)
-
A PARTIN G
’
S IN CE there s n o help come let us kiss an d part
Nay I have done you get no more of me ;
And I am glad yea glad wi t h all my hea r t
That thus so cleanly I myself can fr ee
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’
FO R ST
SON G
1 6 87
CECI LIA S D AY
.
,
45
Shake h ands for ever cancel all our vows,
And when we m eet at any time again,
Be it not seen in e i ther of our brows
That we on e j ot of former love retai n
’
Now at the last gas p of Love s latest breath
W hen h is pulse fai l i ng Passion S peec hless lies
When Faith is kneeling by h i s bed of death
And I n nocence is clos i ng up h is eyes
’
Now if thou wou l d st when all have give n him over
’
F rom death to life thou might st h i m yet recover !
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M D R AYT O N ( 1 563—1 631 )
.
SON G F OR ST
’
.
CECILIA S DAY
,
F R O M h armony from h eavenly harmony
This universal fr ame began
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarri ng atoms lay
And could not heave her h ead
The t un e ful vo i ce was heard from h igh
“
Arise ye more than dea d !
Then cold and hot and moist and d ry
I n o rder to the ir s tat i ons leap
’
And Mus i c s power O bey
Fro m harmony from heavenly harmony
Th i s universal frame began :
F rom harmony to harmony
Th rough all the com pass of the n otes it ran,
The diapaso n closing fu ll in Man
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What passion cannot Music raise an d quell ?
When J ubal s t ruck the cho rded shell
H is listen i ng breth ren stood aroun d
And wonde ring on their faces fell
To worship that celestial sou n d
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1 6 87
46
S O NG
FO R ST
.
CEC I L I A S D A Y
'
,
1 6 87
Less than a God they thought th e re co uld n ot dwell
W i th i n the hol l ow of that shell
That s poke so sweetly an d so well
What passion cannot Music raise an d quell ?
.
’
The trum p et s loud clangour
E x cites us to arm s
W i th sh rill n otes o f anger
And m ortal alarms
The double double double beat
Of the thunde ring drum
Cri es H ark ! the foes come ;
’
Charge charge tis too late to retreat
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The soft com p lain in g flute
In dy i ng n otes d i scovers
The woes of hopeless love rs
’
Whose d i rge is wh isper d by the warbli n g lute
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,
Sha rp violins proclaim
The i r jealous pangs and desperatio n
Fury frantic i nd i gnati on
Depth of p ains and height of passio n
For the fair disdain ful dame
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But oh ! what art can teach
What h uman vo i ce can reach
’
The sacred organ s praise ?
Notes i ns pi ri ng h o l y love
Notes th at w i ng their heavenly ways
To mend the cho i rs above
,
,
.
Orp heus
could lead the savage race ;
And trees u p roo ted left their place
Sequacious of the lyr e :
But b right Cecili a raised the wonder higher :
.
FL O WE RS O F
TH E
TH E
47
F O RES T
Wh en to he r organ vocal breath was given
’
An angel h eard and straight appear d
Mistakin g Ea rth fo r H eaven
,
.
As
the powe r of sacred lays
The sphe res began to move
’
An d sung the great Creato r s p rai se
To all the blest above ;
So when t he las t and dread fu l h ou r
This c rumbling pageant shall devou r
The trum pet shall be hea rd o n high
The dead shall live the living die
And music shall untune th e sky
J D R YD E N (1 6 31
for
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TH E
OF TH E
FLOWERS
1 7 00)
-
F OREST
’
heard them lilting at our ewe m
’
—
Lasses a lilti ng before the dawn 0 day ;
But now they are moan i ng on i lka gre en loani n g
’
The F l owe rs o f the Forest are a wede away
I
VE
-
.
At b u gh ts i n the morn ing n ae blyth e lads are sco r ning ;
Lasses are lanely and dowie and wae ;
Nae d affin g nae gabbi ng but s i gh i ng and sabbing
Ilk ane li fts he r legli n and hies her away
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I n hai rst at the sheari ng nae youths n ow a re jee ri n g :
Bandsters are lyart and ru nkl ed and gray
At fair or at p reach i ng nae woo i ng nae flee chi n g
’
The Flowers of the Forest are a wede away
,
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At e en in the gloaming n ae swankies ar e roaming
’
’
Bout stacks wi the lasses at bogle to play ;
But ilk an e sits ee rie l ament i ng her deari e
’
The Flowers of th e Fo rest are a wede away
,
,
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48
E LEG Y W RI TT EN I N A C H U RC H YARD
D001 an d was fo r the order sent our lads to th e Bo rde r !
The Engl i sh for ance by gu i le wan the d ay
The F l owers of the Forest that fought aye the foremost
The p ri me of our land lie cauld in the clay
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’
We ll hear nae mair lilting at our ewe m il king
Women and bai rns are heartless and wae
S igh i ng and moaning on i lka green loaning :
’
The Flowe rs of the Fo rest are a wede away
-
:
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JE AN ELLIO T ( 1 7 27
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1 995)
W OMAN
WH E N lovely woman stoo p s to folly
And finds too late that men be t ray
What charm can soothe her melancholy ?
What art can was h h er tears away ?
,
,
The only a rt he r guilt to cover
’
To hide her sha m e from ev ry eye
To give re pen tance to her lover
An d w ring h is bosom i s — to die
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OLI V ER G OLD S M I T H ( 1 7 28 1 7 7 4 )
-
E LE GY WRITTEN IN A C OUNTRY C HU RC HYARD
TH E curfew tolls the kn ell of pa rtin g day,
’
Th e lowi ng h erd Winds sl owly o er t h e lea,
The p lough man h omewa rd plods h is wea ry
way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me
,
.
No w fades the glimme ring landsca pe on the sigh t,
And all the a i r a solem n sti l lness h olds
Save where the beetle wh eels h i s dron in g flight,
A n d d rowsy ti n kl i ngs lull the distan t folds :
,
E LEG Y W RI TTE N I N A C H U RC H YA RD
Save that from yonder ivy man tl ed tower
The mo pi ng owl does to the m oon co m p lai n
Of s u ch as wanderi ng near her secr et bower
Molest her anc i ent soli tary reign
-
,
,
.
’
Beneath those ru gged elms that yew tree s shade
Where heaves the tu rf i n m any a mou l de ring h eap
Each i n h i s nar ro w ce ll for ever la i d
The rude forefathe rs of the hamle t sleep
-
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The breezy call of incense breathing morn
The swal low tw i t te r i ng from the straw bu i lt sh ed
’
The c ock s sh ri ll clari on or the echo i ng horn
No mo re shall rouse them from their lowly bed
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For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn
Or busy housewi fe p ly her evening ca re :
’
No chi l dren run t o l i s p thei r sire s return
Or cl i mb h is knee s the envi ed kiss to share
,
,
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did the harvest to their sickle y i eld
The i r furrow o ft t h e stubborn glebe h as broke ;
H o w jocund did they d rive t he i r team afield
’
H o w how d the woods beneath their sturdy st roke
Oft
,
Let not Ambitio n mock their useful toil
The i r homely joys an d dest i ny obscure
No r Grandeur bear w i t h a disd ain ful smile
The short and simple annals of the p oor
,
,
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boast of he rald ry the p omp of powe r
’
And al l that beauty all t hat wealth e er gave,
’
Awa i t al i ke t h inevi table hour :
The p aths of glo ry lead but to the grave
Th e
,
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.
50
E LE GY
W RI TT E N I N A C H U RC H YA RD
No r you ye p roud impute to th ese the fault
’
If Me m ory o e r thei r tomb n o troph i es raise
Where through the lo n g d rawn a isle and fr etted vault
The peali n g anthe m swells the n ote of p raise
,
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Can sto ried u r n o r animated bu st
Back to its mansions call the flee ting breath ?
’
Can H onour s vo i ce provoke the s i l ent d u st
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death ?
,
Perhaps in this n eglected spot is laid
So m e heart once pregnant wi th celestial fi re
’
H ands that the rod of em pi re m i ght have sway d
O r waked to ecstasy the l i vi ng lyre
,
,
But Knowledge to the ir eyes her ample page
’
Rich with the s poils of time did ne er unroll
’
Chi l l Penu ry re press d their n obl e rage
And fro z e the genial curren t of t he soul
,
,
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F u l l man y a gem of purest ray se rene
’
The dar k u n fat h o m d caves of ocea n bear
F u ll many a flower is born to blush unsee n
A n d waste its sweetn ess on the dese rt air
,
.
So me village H am p den that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields wi thstood
Some mu te inglo rious Milton here may rest
’
Some C romwell guiltless of his count ry s blood
,
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,
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Th a pplause of listening senates to com m an d
The threats of pain and r uin to des pise
’
To scatter p lenty o er a sm i l i ng land
’
An d read the ir h isto ry in a nation s eyes
,
,
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52
E LEG Y W RITTEN I N A C H U RC H YAR D
’
’
u n h on o u r d
Fo r thee who mindful of t h
dead
Dost in th ese lines thei r artless tale rel ate
If chance by lonel y contem platio n led
Some kind red sp i rit shall inquire thy fate
,
,
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H aply some hoary headed swain may say,
Oft have we s een h im at the pee p o f dawn
-
Brush i ng w i th hasty steps the dews away
To meet the sun upon the u pland lawn
,
The re at the foot of yonder n od d i ng beech
That wreathes its old fantastic roo ts so h igh
H is listless length at noon t i de would he st retch,
And pore upo n the brook that babbles by
,
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.
H a rd
by y ou wood n ow smi ling as in sco rn
Mutte ring h i s waywa rd fanc i es h e would rove
Now droo pi ng woeful wan l i ke one forlorn
’
Or c raz ed with care o r cross d in hope less love
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“
.
One mo rn I m iss d h i m o n the c u sto m d hill
Along the heath and near h is favourite tree
Anothe r came n or ye t bes i de the ri ll
No r up the lawn no r at the wood was he
,
,
,
,
“
The nex t with dirges due i n sad array
Slow th rough the church way path we saw him bo rn e
A pproach and read (for thou canst read ) the lay
”
Graved on the stone beneath yon aged tho rn
-
.
TH E
E P IT A P H
H ere
res ts h i s head upon the lap of Earth
A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown
’
Fa i r Sc i ence frown d not on his humble b irth
’
And Melan choly mark d h im fo r her own
,
.
,
53
I N V I C TUS
Large was his bounty an d h is soul since re ;
H eaven did a recom pense as largely send
H e gave to Misery (all he had ) a tear
’
’
’
H e gain d from H eaven ( twas all he wish d ) a friend
,
,
.
No farther seek h is me ri ts to d i sclose
Or draw his frailti es from their dr ead abode,
( There they alike in trembli ng h Ope repose )
The bosom of his Fathe r a n d h is God
,
,
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T
G RAY ( 1 7 1 6
-
.
17 71)
I NVI CTUS
of the n ight that covers m e
Bl ack as t h e Pit fro m pole to pole
I thank W hateve r god s may be
For my unconque rable soul
OUT
,
,
.
I n the fell clutc h of ci rcumstan ce
I have not wi nced n or c ried aloud
U n der the blu d ge o n in gs of chance
’
My head is bloo dy but u n bow d
,
.
.
Beyond this plac e of w rath and tears
Looms b u t the H orror of the shad e
And yet the menace of the years
F in ds and shall find me unafraid
,
,
.
,
I t matters not how st rait th e gate
H ow charged with pun ishme n t s th e sc roll,
I am the mas te r of my fate :
I am the captai n of my soul
,
.
W I LLI AM ERN ES T H E N LEY ( 1 84 9
-
1 903)
54
TO V I RGINS
,
TO MAKE M UC H O F TI M E
DELIGH T IN DIS ORD E R
A S WEET diso rde r i n the d ress
Kindles in cloth es a wantonness :
A lawn about the shoulde rs thrown
Into a fine dist raction
An e rring l ace wh i ch here and t he re
Enth rals the c rimson stomacher
’
A cu fi n egl ectfu l and t hereby
Ribbands to flow con fusedly
A w i nn i ng wave dese rving n ote
I n the tempestuous pett i coat
A careless shoe st ring i n whose tie
I see a wild civi l ity
Do mo re bewitch me than when art
Is too p recise in eve ry part
,
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ROBER T HE RRI C K ( 1 594
TO TH E
V I RGI NS
,
TO MAKE MUC H
G AT H ER ye rosebuds wh ile ye may
Old Time is still a fl yi n g
An d th is same flower that s miles to day
To morrow will be dyin g
-
,
-
-
.
The glo rious lam p of heaven the su n
’
The higher he s a—
getti ng
The sooner wi l l h i s race h e run
’
And nea re r he s to settin g
,
,
,
,
.
The age i s best which is the first
When youth and blood are warmer ;
But be i ng s pent t he worse and wo rst
Times still succeed the for me r
,
,
,
,
.
OF
-
1 67 4 )
TIME
TO C E L IA
55
Then h e not coy but use you r time
An d while ye may go m arry
F or having lost but o n ce your p rime
You may fo r eve r tarry
R OBER T
,
,
,
,
,
.
V OW
H ERRI OK
TO LOVE FAIT H FULLY H OWSOEVE R H E
BE REWARDED
me whereas the su n doth parch th e green
O r where h is beams do n ot di ssolve the ice
I n temperate heat where he is felt an d see n
In presence p rest of people m ad or wise ;
Set me in hi gh o r yet in low degree
I n lon gest n ight or in th e sho rtest day ;
In clear est sky o r where clou d s thickest be
In lusty youth o r whe n my h ai rs ar e grey ;
Set me in h eaven i n ea r th or else in hell,
In h ill o r dale o r in the foaming flood ;
Th rall or at large al i ve wh ereso I dwell ;
Sick or i n h ealth in evil fame or good
H e rs wi ll I be an d only wi t h this t hought
C onte n t m yse lf although my chance h e n ought
HO WAR D E A RL OF SURRE Y ( 1 51 7 1 54 6 )
S ET
,
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TO
CELIA
DRIN K to m e only with thin e eyes
,
And I w ill p ledge with mine
Or leave a kiss but in the cup
’
And I ll not look for wine
The thirs t that fr om th e soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink di vine
’
But mig ht I of Jove s n ectar su p,
I would n ot chan ge fo r thin e
,
.
.
56
LA BE L LE DA M E SANS M E RC I
I sent thee late a rosy w rea th
No t so much honou ring thee
As giv i ng i t a hope tha t t here
I t could not w i thered be
Bu t t h o u thereon d i ds t only breathe
’
And sen t st i t back to me :
Since when i t grows and smells I swear
Not of itself but thee
BE N JO N SO N ( 1 573 1 637)
,
,
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LAST SONNET
B RI GH T Sta r ! would I were stead fast as thou
Not in lone s p lendour hung alo ft the night
And watching wi t h eternal lids ap art,
’
Like Na t ure s patient sleepless Eremite
art
,
,
,
The moving wate rs at thei r p riest like task
’
Of pure ab l ution round earth s human sho res
Or gazing on the n ew so ft fallen mask
Of snow upo n the mounta i ns and the moors :
-
,
-
No — yet sti ll steadfast still unchangeable
’
P illo w d u p on my fair Love s ri pen i ng breast
To feel fo r ever its soft fall and swell
Awake fo r ever i n a sweet unrest
,
,
'
,
,
Stil l still to hea r he r tender taken breath
And so li ve ever —or else swoon to death
J K EA T S ( 1 7 95
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,
,
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,
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.
LA
BELLE DAME SANS MERCI
0, W H A T
ca n ail thee knight at arms,
Alone and pal ely l o i teri ng ?
’
The sedge i s wit h e r d from t he lake
An d no birds sing
-
-
,
,
.
1 82 1 )
LA BELLE DA M E SAN S M E RCI
0, what can ail thee, knigh t at a rm s,
So hagga rd and so woe begone ?
-
-
-
’
The sq u i rrel s gra nary is full
’
And the ha rvest s don e
,
.
“
I see a l i ly on thy brow
With angu ish moist and fever dew
An d on thy c h eek a fad i ng rose
”
Fas t withereth too
,
.
“
I met a lady in the meads
’
—
Full beautiful a faery s ch ild
H e r h air was long her foot was l i ght,
And her eyes were wild
,
,
.
I made a gar land for her head
An d bracele ts too and fragrant zone
She looked at me as sh e d i d love
And made sweet moan
,
.
,
,
.
I set he r on my pacing steed
And nothing else saw all day long
F or sideways would sh e lean and s i ng
’
A fae ry s song
,
,
,
.
“
She found me roots of r el i sh sweet
An d honey wi ld and manna dew
An d sur e in language s t ran ge sh e said
I love thee t rue
,
,
,
She took me to her elfin gr ot
’
And there she we p t and S igh d full sore
And there I sh ut her wild wild ey es
W i th kisses four
,
,
.
“
An d there she lulled m e asleep
And there I dream ed— ah ! woe betide !
The latest dream I ever dreamed
’
O n the cold hill s side !
,
57
O DE O N
“
A
G REC I AN URN
saw pale kings a n d p ri n ces too
Pale wa rriors death pale we re they all
They cried
La Be lle Dame san s Me rci
H ath th ee in th rall
I
,
-
.
,
saw their starved lips in the gloam
With horr i d warn ing gaped wide
A n d I awoke and fou n d me here
’
On the cold hill s side
I
,
,
.
“
An d t his is why I sojou rn her e
Al one an d palely loite ri ng
’
Though the sedge is wit h er d from the lake
”
An d n o bi rd s sin g
JOH N KEA T S
,
,
,
.
ODE ON
A GRE C IAN
URN
TH O U sti ll u n rav ished bride of quietness
Thou foste r ch ild of Silence and slow Ti me
Sylvan h isto ri an who ca nst thus exp ress
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme
What leaf fri nged legend h aunts about thy shape
O f deiti es or mortals or of both
I n Tem p e of the dales of Arcady !
What men or gods are these ? What maiden s 10th ?
What mad p ursu i t ? What st ruggle to escape ?
What pipes and timbrels ? What wild ecst asy ?
,
-
,
,
o
,
,
'
H ea rd
melodi es are sweet but those u n hea rd
Are sweeter ; therefo re ye soft pipes p la y o n ;
Not to the sensual ear but mo re endea red
Pipe to the spi rit ditties of n o to n e :
,
,
,
,
,
,
TH E M AID S
'
LA M EN T
doth eternity Cold Pastoral !
Whe n o l d age shal l t h is generati on waste
Thou shalt remai n in m i dst o f other woe
Than ours a fri end to man to who m thou sayest,
“
Beau t y is tru t h t ru t h beau ty — tha t is all
Ye kn ow o n ear t h and all ye need to know
JOH N KE ATS
As
,
,
,
,
,
,
”
.
,
’
THE
MAID S LAMENT
I LO V ED him n ot and yet n ow he is gone
I feel I am alone
’
I ch ec k d him wh i le he s poke yet could he speak,
Alas I would not chec k
For reasons not to love h i m once I sought
And wearied all my though t
To vex myself and h i m I now wou l d give
My love cou l d he but l i ve
Who lately lived for me and when he fou n d
’
Twas va i n i n holy ground
H e hid h is face amid the shades of death
I was t e for him my brea t h
Who wasted h i s fo r me ; but mine returns,
And th i s lorn bosom burns
With stifli ng heat h eaving it up i n sleep
And waki ng me to weep
Tears that had mel t ed h i s soft heart for yea rs
Wep t he as bitter tea rs
Me rc i ful God
su c h was his latest p rayer
”
Th ese may she never share !
Quiete r is h is b reath his b reast more cold
Than dai s i es in the mould
Wher e childre n spell athwa rt the churchya rd gate
’
H is n ame and life s bri e f date
’
Pray for h i m gentle souls wh oe er you be
An d , 0 p ray too for me
W S AVAGE LAN D O R ( 1 7 7 5 1 864 )
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O NE
NAM E L ES S
TH E
TO LUCAS TA
GOI N G TO
61
TH E
WARS
T ELL me not Sweet I am u n kin d
That from the n unnery
O f thy chaste breast and qu i et mind
To war and arms I fly
,
,
,
.
T rue a n e w mistress now I chase
The first foe in the field
And wi t h a stronger faith emb race
A sword a ho rse a sh i eld
,
,
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,
,
.
Yet th i s in constancy is such
As thou too shalt ado re :
I could not love t h ee dear so much
Loved I not H onour more
,
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,
.
RI C HA R D LO VE LA C E ( 1 6 1 8 1 658)
-
TH E
NAMELESS
ONE
RO LL fo rth my song like the rushing ri ve r
That swee ps along to the m i gh t y sea ;
God will i n sp ir e me wh i le I d el i ver
My soul of th ee
,
,
,
Tell thou the world whe n my bones l i e white ning
Am i d t he last homes of youth and eld
That once t here was one wh ose ve in s ran lightn in g
N 0 eye beheld
,
,
.
Tell how h is boyhood was one d rear nigh t hour
H ow shone for h i m through h i s griefs an d gloom
N 0 s ta r of all h eaven sends to l i ght our
Path to the tomb
-
,
,
.
,
TH E
NAM E L E SS O N E
Roll on my song and to after ages
Tell how disdaini n g all earth can gi ve
’
H e would have taught men fro m wisdom s pages
The way to live
,
,
,
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,
,
.
And tell how trampl ed de rided hated
And worn by weakn ess disease and wron g
H e fled fo r shel ter to God who mated
H is soul with song
,
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—Wi th son g which alway sublim e or vapid
’
Flo w d like
P er h ance not
g
,
,
a ri l l in the morning beam
deep but i ntense and rap i d
A mountai n stream
,
,
.
’
Tell how th i s Nameless con d e m n d for years long
To he rd wi t h demon s from hell beneath
Saw th ings that mad e h i m with groans and tea rs lon g
For even death
,
,
,
,
.
Go on to tell how with gen i us wasted
’
’
Be t ray d i n fri endshi p be foo l d in love
’
With s p i rit sh ipwrec k d and young hopes blasted
H e still still strove
,
,
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,
T ill spent wi th toil dreei n g death for others
o me whose han ds shou l d have w rough t for him
And
s
(
I f children live not for sires and mothe rs )
H is mind grew dim
,
,
,
An d he fell far th rough that p i t abysmal
The g ulf and grave of Mag inn and B u rns
’
’
An d pawn d h is soul for t he devi l s dismal
S tock o f retu rn s
,
.
,
,
’
M O R N I N G O F C H RIS T S NA TIVITY
63
’
But yet red ee m d it in da ys of da rkness
And sha pes and si gn s of the final wrath
When death in hideous and ghas t ly starkness
Stood on his path
,
,
,
,
.
A n d tell how n ow ami d wr ec k and so rrow
And wan t an d s i ckness and houseless nigh ts,
H e bides i n calmn ess the silent morrow
That no ray l i ghts
,
,
,
,
,
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An d lives he still then ? Yes ! Old an d hoary
At th irty nine from despair and woe
H e l i ves end u r in g what fu t ure sto ry
Will neve r kn ow
,
-
,
,
,
.
Him
gran t a grave to ye pitying noble
Deep in your bosoms : there let h i m dwell
H e too h ad tea rs for all sou ls in trouble
H e re and in hell
,
,
,
,
!
,
.
J AM ES C LARE N C E MANGAN ( 1 803—
18
4 9)
’
H YMN ON TH E
M O R N I N G O F C H RIST S
NATIVITY
was the wi n ter wild
While th e heaven born ch ild
All meanly wrapt in the r ude mange r li es ;
Nat ure in awe to h i m
H ad d o fl ed her gaudy t rim
With her grea t Master so to sym p ath ise :
I t was n o seaso n then for her
To wanton with the Sun her lusty pa ramour
IT
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.
64
’
M O R N I N G O F C H RIS T S NA TI VITY
Only with speech es fai r
She woos th e gentle air
To hide her gu i lty fron t with in n oce nt s n o w
And on her naked shame
Poll ute w i th s i nfu l blame
The sain t ly ve i l of mai den white to throw ;
’
Con founded that her Make r s eyes
Should look so n ear upon her foul de formities
,
,
,
,
.
But H e her fears to cease
Sen t down the meek eyed Peace :
She crowned w i t h olive green came softly slidin g
Down through the turning sphere
H is ready harb i nger
With turtl e wing the amorous clouds divid i ng ;
A nd waving wide her myrtle wand
S h e stri kes a universal peace th rough sea and lan d
,
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’
N 0 war or battle s sound
Was heard the world around
The idl e s p ear and sh i eld were high u phu n g
The hook e d char i ot stood
Unstai ned w i th host i le blood
Th e trum p e t s p ake not to t h e ar m ed th ro ng
An d ki ngs sat sti ll w i th awful eye
As if they surely knew their sovran Lo rd was by
,
,
,
.
But peaceful was t he n igh t
Wherei n the Prince of Li gh t
H is rei gn of peace u p on the ea rt h began
T h e winds with wonder whist
Sm oo t hly the waters k i ssed
Wh i spering new j oys to the m i ld Ocean
Wh o n ow hath qu i te forgot to rave
While birds of calm sit broodin g on the charm ed wave
.
,
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,
.
’
M O R N I N G O F C H RIS T S N A TIV ITY
65
The stars with deep amaze
Stand fixed in stead fast gaze
Bending one way thei r precious influen ce
And w i l l not tak e their fli gh t
Fo r all the m orn i ng l i ght
Or Luci fer that ofte n warn ed them thence ;
But in the i r gl i mmeri ng orbs d i d glow
Until their Lo rd h i mself bes pake and bid them go
,
,
,
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,
,
,
An d though the shady Gloo m
H ad given Day her room
The Sun himself with held his wonted s p eed
An d h i d h is h ead for shame
As his infer i or flame
The n ew enl i gh tened world n o m ore should
H e saw a greater Sun a pp ea r
Th an his b right th rone or burning ax letr ee could
.
,
,
,
,
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The shepherds on the lawn
Or ere the p oint of dawn
Sat simply chatting in a rustic ro w :
F ull l i ttle thought t hey than
That the m igh ty Pan
Was kindly come to live w i th them below :
Perha ps thei r loves or else their sheep
Was al l that did their silly though ts so busy k eep
,
,
,
,
.
When such m us i c sweet
Their hearts and ears d i d greet
As n ever was by mo rtal finge r st rook
D i vinely warbled voice
Answe ring the st ri n ged n oi se
As all the i r souls in bliss ful raptu re too k :
The air such pleasu re loth to lose
With thousand ech oes still prolongs each h eavenly close
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,
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,
.
66
M O RN I N G
’
C H RI S T S NA TIV ITY
OF
Nature that heard such sou n d
Benea t h the hol l ow round
’
Of Cynth i a s seat the Airy region th rilling
Now was almost won
To think her part was done
An d that her re i gn had here its last ful filli n g :
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all H eaven and Ea rth in happier un io n
,
,
,
.
At last surrou n ds thei r s i ght
A globe o f c i rcu l ar l i ght
That with long beams the shamefaced Night a rrayed
The helm ed Cherubim
And sworded Sera p h i m
Are seen i n gli ttering ranks with wi n gs displayed
H a rping in loud and solem n quire
’
With u n ex p ressive notes to H eave n s n ew born H ei r
,
,
,
-
,
.
’
Such m usic (as tis said )
Be fore was never made
But when of o l d the Sons of Mo rn i n g su n g
While the Creator grea t
H is conste l lat i ons set
And the well balanced World on hinges hung
An d cast the dark foundations deep
An d bid the welteri ng waves their oozy chan nel k eep
,
,
-
,
,
Ring out ye crystal spheres 1
Once bless our h uman ears
If ye have power to touch our senses so
And let your s i lver chime
Move i n melod i ous t i me
’
And let the bass of heaven s deep o rgan blow
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full con so rt to the ang elic symphony
,
,
.
.
’
68
M O R N I N G O F C H RIS T S NA TI V ITY
And then at las t ou r bliss
Ful l and p er fect is
But n ow begi ns for from th i s happy d ay
The Old Dragon under ground
I n straiter l i m i ts bound
Not half so far casts h i s usurped sway
And wroth to see h i s k i ngdom fail
Swinges the scaly h orror of h is folded tail
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
The Oracles ar e d umb ;
N 0 vo i ce or hideous h um
Runs th rough the arch ed roof i n wo rds deceivin g
A p ollo from h i s sh ri ne
Can no more div i ne
W ith hollo w shr i ek the steep of Delph os leavi ng
No n i ghtly trance or breath ed spell
I nsp i res the pale eyed priest from the prophetic celL
.
,
.
,
,
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’
The lonely moun tains o e r
And the resound i ng shore
A vo i ce of wee pi ng heard and loud lame n t
Fro m haunted s p ring and dale
Edged w i th po p lar p ale
The p arting Genius is with sighing sent ;
With flowe r i nwoven tresses torn
The Nym p hs i n twiligh t shade of tan gled thickets mou rn
,
,
,
,
-
I n consecrated ea rth
And on the holy h ea rth
The Lars and Lemures moan with midnigh t plai n t
I n urns and al tars round
A drear an d d ying sound
A fl righ t s th e fl am ens at the i r service quaint ;
An d the ch i ll marble seems to swea t
While each peculia r Powe r fo rgoes h is wonted seat
,
,
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’
M O R N I N G O F C H RIS T S N A TI VI T Y
69
Peor and Baiilim
Forsake thei r temples dim
With that twice ba t tered God of Palestine ;
And moon ed Ash taroth
’
H eaven s queen and mother both
’
Now s i ts not girt wi th ta p ers h oly shine ;
The Lib y c H ammon sh r i nks h i s horn
In vai n the Ty ria n maids th e i r wounded Th am m u z mou rn
,
-
,
,
And sullen Moloch fl ed
H ath left i n shadows drea d
H is burn i ng idol all o f blackest hue :
’
I n va i n with cymbal s ring
They call the gri sly king
I n dismal dance about th e furnace blue ;
The brutish gods of Nile as fast
Isis an d Orus and the dog Anubis haste
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
,
No r is Osi ris seen
In Memphian grove o r green
Tram p ling the unshowered grass with lowings loud
Nor can h e be at rest
With i n h i s sac red chest ;
Nought but p rofoundest H ell can be his shroud ;
In vain w i th t i mbrelled an thems dark
The sable stol ed sorcerers bear h i s worshipped ark
,
,
,
,
-
.
’
He
feels from Juda s lan d
’
The dreaded Infant s hand
The rays of Bethleh em blind h is dusk y eye
No r all the gods beside
Longer dare abide
Not Ty p hon huge ending i n sn ak y twin e :
Ou r Babe to show h i s Godh ead tr ue
Can in his swaddlin g ban ds co n t rol the dam n ed c rew
,
,
,
.
.
LYCID AS
70
So whe n the su n in bed
Curta ined wi th cloudy red
Pillows his ch i n u p on an o rient wave,
The flocking shad ows pale
Troop to t he in fern al jail
Each fettered ghost slips to h is seve ral grave
And the yellow skirted fays
Fly afte r the night s teeds leaving thei r moon loved
,
,
,
,
,
-
-
-
,
But see the Virgin blest
H ath lai d her Babe to rest
Time is our tedious song should here have ending :
’
H eaven s youngest t eem e d s tar
H a t h fixed her polished car
H er slee pi ng Lord w i t h handmai d lam p attendin g ;
And all about the cour tly stable
Bri gh t harn essed An gels sit i n order serviceable
.
-
,
-
.
JOH N M IL T O N ( 1 608—
1 67 4 )
LYCIDAS
once mo re 0 ye laur els an d o n ce mo re
Ye myr tles b rown with ivy n ever sere
I come to pluck you r berries hars h and crude
And wi th forced fingers rude
Shat ter your leaves before the mellow i ng year !
B i t ter constraint and sad occasi on dear
Com p els me to d i stu rb your season due ;
For Lycidas i s dead dead ere h i s p r i me
Young Lyc i das and hath n ot left h i s peer !
Who would not sing fo r Lyc i das ! he knew
H i mself to sing an d build the loft y rhyme
H e must not float upon his wate ry bier
Unwe p t and welte r to the parch i ng wind
Without the meed of some melodious tear
YET
,
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.
LYCIDA S
71
Begin then S i ste rs of th e sac red well
That from beneath the seat of Jove do t h sprin g ;
Begin and somewhat loud l y sweep the strin g
H ence wi t h den i al vai n and coy excuse :
So may some gentle M use
With lucky words favou r my destined u rn
An d as he passes turn
And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud
,
,
.
,
,
,
,
Fo r we were nursed up on the self sam e hill
Fed the same flock by foun tain shade and rill ;
Together both ere the h igh lawn s a pp eared
Under the o pen i ng eyel i ds of the Morn
We drove a field and both t oge t her hea rd
What t i me the grey fl y win ds her sult ry h o rn
Ba t ten i ng our flocks with the fresh dews of n ight
Oft ti l l the star that rose at even in g b ri gh t
’
Toward hea ven s descent had slo p ed his weste ring wheel
Meanwhile the rural ditties wer e n ot m ute :
Tempered t o the oaten flute
Rough Satyrs d anced an d Fau n a with cloven heel
From th e glad sound would not be absent long ;
And old Dam aetas loved to hear our so ng
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But 0 the h eavy change n ow thou art go n e
Now thou art gone and never must return
Thee Shepherd thee the woods an d dese rt caves
’
Wi t h wild t hyme and the gadd i ng vin e o ergrown
An d all their ech oes mourn
The w i llows and the haz el copses gr een
Sha l l n ow no more be seen
Fann i ng the ir j oyous leaves to thy so ft lays
As k i ll i ng as t he canker to the rose
Or ta i nt wo rm to the weanling h erds that graze
Or frost to flowers that their gay ward robe wea r
When first the white t horn blows :
’
Such Lycidas thy loss to shephe rd s ear
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LYCI DAS
Whe re were ye Nym p hs when the remo rseless dee p
’
Closed o e r the head of your loved Lycidas ?
Fo r neither were ye play i ng on t he steep
Whe re your old bards the famous Druids lie
Nor on the shaggy top of Mona h i gh
Nor yet where Deva spreads her wiz ard stream
A y me ! I fo n dly dream
”
“
for what could that have done !
Ha d ye been the re
What could the Muse herself that Orp heus bore
The Muse hersel f for h er enchanting so n
W hom un i versal nature d i d lament
When by the rout that made t he hideous roar
H is gory visage down the stream was sent
Down the swi ft H ebru s to the Lesbian shore ?
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Alas what boots it with ince ssan t care
’
To tend the h omely sl ighted shep herd s t rade,
And strictly med i tate the thankless Muse !
Were i t not better done as others use
To s p ort with Amaryllis in the shade
’
Or wit h the tangles of N eaera s hair !
Fame is the s p u r that the clear s pirit doth raise
That
l
a
st
infirm
i
ty
of
noble
mind
(
)
To scor n deligh ts and live labo rious days
But the fa i r guerdon when we hope to find
And think to burst out into sudden blaze
C omes the bli nd Fury wi th the abhorred sh ears
”
And slits the t h in spu n l ife
But not the p raise
hus replied and touched my trembl i ng ea rs
t
“
Fame i s no p l ant that gr ows on mortal soil
No r in the gl isteri ng foil
Set ofl to the world nor in broad rumour l i es
But l i ves and s p rea d s aloft by those pure eyes
And pe rfect wi t ness of all j udging Jove
As he pronounces lastly on each deed
”
Of so m uch fame i n heaven expect thy meed
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73
LYCIDAS
fountain Areth use and thou honoure d flood
Smooth s l i d i ng M in c iu s crowned w i th vocal reeds
That strain I h eard was of a highe r mood
But now my oat proceeds
And listens to the H erald of the Sea,
’
That came in Ne p tun e s plea
H e asked the waves and asked the felo n w in ds
What hard m isha p hath doomed th i s gentle swaiu l
And questioned every gust o f rugged wings
That blows fro m o ff each beaked promonto ry
They knew not of h i s story ;
And sage H ippo tad es their answer b rings
That not a blas t was from h is dungeon strayed
The air was calm an d on the level brine
Sleek P an Ope with all he r sisters p layed
It was that fatal an d perfid iou s bark
Built i n t he ecli pse and rigged with curses dark
That sun k so low that sacred head of thine
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Next Camus r everend sire wen t footing slow,
H is mantle hairy and h i s bo n net sed ge
Inwrought with figu r es dim and on the edge
Like to that sa nguine flower insc ribed with woe
”
Ah who hath reft quoth he
m y dearest pled ge 3
Last came and last d i d go
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake
T wo massy keys he bore of metals twai n
( The golden o p es th e iro n shuts amain )
H e shook h i s mi t red locks and s tern bespake :
H o w well could I have s p ared for thee yo u ng swain
’
Enow of such as for t he i r bellies sake
Creep and intrude and climb in to the fold
Of other care they li ttle reckon i ng make
’
Than how to scramble at the shearers feast
And shove away the worthy bidden guest
Bli nd mouths that scarce themselves kn ow h ow to hold
A sheep hook or have learnt aught else the least
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LY C I D AS
74
’
That to the faithfu l herdman s art belongs !
‘
What recks it t he m I What need they ? They are sped
And when they l i st thei r lean and flashy songs
Gra t e on the i r scran nel p ipes of wretched straw ;
The h ungry sheep loo k u p and are not fed
But swoln w i t h w i nd and the rank m i st they d raw
Ro t i nward l y and foul con tagi on s pread ;
Bes i des what the gri m wolf w i th p ri vy paw
Dai ly devours ap ace and nothing said
But that two handed engine at the doo r
”
Stan ds ready to sm i te once and smite n o mo re
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Return Al ph eus t h e dread voice is past
That shrunk thy streams
Return S i c i l i an Muse
And call the vales and bid them h i t her cast
Thei r bel l s and fl o we re ts of a t housand hues !
Ye val l eys low where the m i ld whis p ers u se
O f shades and wanto n winds and gushing b rooks
On whose fresh la p t he swart star s p arely looks
Throw h i t her all your qua i nt enamel led eyes
That on the green tur f suck t he honeyed showe rs
And pur ple all the ground w i th vernal flowe rs
Br i ng the rathe pri mrose that forsaken d i es
The tu fted crow toe and pale jessam i ne
The wh i t e p ink and the pansy freaked w i th j et
Th e glowing vi olet
The musk rose and the well attired woodbine
! Vi t h cowsl ip s wan that hang the p ensive head
And every flower that sad embro i dery wea rs ;
B i d amaran t h us all h i s beauty shed
And d afl ad illies fill the i r cups w i th tears
To stre w the laureate hearse where Lycid lies
For so to in t erp ose a l i ttl e ease
Le t our frai l thoughts d al l y w i t h false surmise
Ay me I wh i ls t thee the shores and sounding seas
’
Wash far away where er th y bones are hu rled
Whethe r beyond the sto rmy H ebri des
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TH E
76
TO YS
And n ow the su n had stretc hed out all the hills,
And n ow was dro p t into t he weste rn bay
At last he rose and twi tched h i s mantle blue :
To mo rrow to fresh wood s and pastures new
JOH N M ILTO N
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ON H I S
BLINDNESS
WH EN I consider how my ligh t is spen t,
Ere half my days in th i s dark world a n d wide
And t hat one Tal ent which is death to hide
’
Lod g d with me useless though my Soul mo re be n t
To serve therew i t h m y Maker and presen t
My true account least he return i ng chide
’
Doth Go d exac t day labour l igh t d en y d
I fondly ask ; But patience to p revent
That murmur soon re pl i es God doth not need
’
Either man s work or his own gi fts who best
B ea r h is mi lde yoak they serve him best his State
Is K i ngly Thousands a t h is bi d d i ng s p eed
’
And post o er Land and Ocea n without rest :
They also se rve who only stand an d waite
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JOH N M ILT O N
TH E
TOYS
’
M Y little Son , who look d from though tful eyes
And moved and s poke in qu i et grown u p wise
’
H aving my law the seventh time d isobey d
’
I struck h i m and d i srn iss d
’
With hard words and u n kiss d
H is Mother wh o was pat i ent being dead
Th en fearing lest h is gri ef should hi nder slee p,
I vis i ted h i s bed
But found him slumbe ri n g deep
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AN NABE L L EE
77
’
W i th d arken d eyelids and their lashes yet
From h i s late sobbi ng wet
And I with moan
Kissing away h i s tea rs left others of m y own
For on a table drawn bes i de his h ead
H e had put with i n h i s reach
’
A box of coun ters and a red vein d stone
A pi ece of gl ass abraded by the beach
And six or seven she l ls
A bottle wi th bluebells
And two French co pper co i ns ranged there with care fu l
To comfort his sad heart
’
So when that nigh t I pray d
To God I wept and sai d
Ah when at last we l i e with tranc ed b rea th
Not vexing Thee in death
And Thou rememberest o f what toys
W e made our j oys
H o w weakly understood
Thy great commanded good
Then fatherly not less
Than I whom Thou hast moulded from t h e clay
’
Thou lt leave Thy wrath and say
“
I will be so rry fo r their ch i l d i shn ess
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C O V E N T R Y PA T M ORE ( 1 823 1 896 )
-
ANNABEL LEE
I T was many and many a yea r ago
I n a kingdom by the sea
That a mai den t here l i ved whom you may kn ow
By the name of Annabel Le e
An d th is mai den she l i ved wi t h no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me
,
,
.
78
AN NABE L LE E
I was
a child an d she was a child
I n t h i s ki ngdom by the sea :
But we loved wi t h a love that was mo re tha n love
I and my Annabel Lee
With a love that the winged se raphs of heave n
Coveted her a n d me
,
.
And this was the r easo n that lon g ago
In th i s kingdom by the sea
A wind ble w out o f a cloud chilling
My beauti ful Annabel Lee
So that her h i gh born kinsman came
And bore her away from me
To shut her u p in a sep ulchre
In this k i ngdom by the sea
,
,
,
,
!
,
.
The angels n ot half so happy in heaven
Went envy i ng her and me
Yes — that was the reaso n ( as all men kno w
In th i s kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night
Chilli ng and killing my Annabe l Lee
,
,
.
But our love it was stronge r by far than t h e love
those who were ol der than we
many far wi ser than we
And neither th e angels i n h eaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever d i ssever my soul from the soul
O f the beautiful Annabel Lee
Of
Of
For the moon n ever beams without bri n ging me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee
An d the stars never ri se but I feel the b right e y es
Of the beautiful An nabel Lee
,
,
79
R E M EMBE R
And so all the n ight tide I lie down by th e side
O f my darli n g— m y darl i ng —m y li fe an d my b ride
I n t he sepulchre there by the sea
In he r tomb by the sounding sea
E D GA R A LL AN POE ( 1 809 1 84 9)
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TH E
DYIN G C H RISTIAN
S OUL
TO H I S
V IT AL spark of h eavenly flame
Q u i t O qu i t th i s m o rtal frame !
T rembl i ng hopi ng linge ri n g fly i ng
O the pa i n the b liss o f dy i ng
Cease fond Nature cease thy strife
And let me languish into li fe
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H ark ,
they whisper ! An gels say
S i ster s piri t come away
What is this abso rbs me qu i te ?
Steals my senses shuts m y si ght
Dro wns my spirit draws my brea t h ?
Tell me my soul can this be death ?
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,
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The world recedes it d i sa ppears
H eaven o p ens on my eyes
my ea rs
W i t h sounds sera p h i c ring
Lend lend you r wings I mount I fly
0 Grave where i s thy Victory ?
0 Death where i s th y sting ?
AL EX AN D ER P O P E ( 1 688 1 7 44 )
,
,
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REMEMBER
RE M EMBER m e when I am gone away
Gone far away into the s i l en t land
When you can no more h ol d me by the han d
Nor I h alf tu rn to go yet tu rning stay
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.
,
80
BLESS ED DAM O ! EL
TH E
Remembe r me whe n n o more d ay by d ay
You tell me of ou r fu ture that you p lanned :
Only remember me you understand
It w i ll be late to counsel then or p ray
Yet if you should forget m e fo r a wh i le
And afte rwards remember do not gri eve ;
For if the darkn ess and co rru p tion lcave
A vesti ge of the though ts t hat on ce I had
Bette r by far you should forget and sm i le
Than that you should remember and be sad
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0
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G ROSSE TT I ( 1 830
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B L ESS ED DAM O! EL
TH E
’
TH E
blessed Damo z el leau d out
From the gold bar o f H eaven
H er blue grave eyes were dee per m uch
Than a deep water even
She h ad three l ili es in her han d
And the sta rs in her h ai r were seve n
,
.
,
.
H er
robe ungi rt from clas p to hem
No wrought flowers d i d a d orn
’
But a wh i te rose of Mary s gift
On the neck meetly worn
An d her hair ly i ng d own her back
Was yellow like ri pe corn
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H erseem d sh e scarce h ad bee n a day
’
On e of God s ch or i ste rs
Th e wonder was n ot yet quite gon e
From that s t i ll look of hers
Albe i t to them she le ft her day
H ad co un ted as ten yea rs
,
,
.
1 894 )
B L E SS ED D AM O ! E L
TH E
81
To
one
it
i
s ten yea rs of y w rs
(
Yet now he re in th i s p lace,
’
’
Su rely sh e leau d o er me —he r hair
F ell all about my face
Not h i n g the Autu mn fall of leaves
The whole yea r sets space )
,
,
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’
It was the te rrace of God s h ouse
That she was standing on
By God b u ilt over the sheer depth
In whi ch is S pace begun
So high that l ookin g down wa rd the n ce
She could sca rce see the su n
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,
,
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I t lies from H eave n ac r oss the flood
Of ether as a b ridge
Beneath the tides of day and night
With flame and black ness ridge
The void as low as where this earth
Spin s like a fretful midge
,
.
,
,
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But in those t racts with he r it was
The peace of utter l ight
And sile n ce Fo r n o breeze may stir
Along the steady fli ght
O f seraph i m no echo the re
Beyo nd all depth o r heigh t
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H eard
hardly some of he r n ew fri en ds
Playing at holy games
’
—
Spake gentle m ou t h d among themselves
Their virgi nal chaste names
And the so u ls mounting up to God
Went by her li k e thin flames
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82
B LES S ED D AM O ! E L
THE
’
’
And still sh e bo w d her self an d stoop d
Into t he vast w as te calm
’
T i ll he r bosom s p ressure must have made
’
The bar she leau d on warm
And the l i lies lay as if asleep
Alon g her bended arm
,
,
.
F rom the fix t lull of H eave n sh e saw
Time like a pulse shak e fierce
Th rough all the worlds H er gaze still strove
I n that steep g u lf to pierce
The swarm and then sh e spake as when
The stars san g i n their sphe res
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,
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“
I wish that he we re come to me
”
For he will come sh e said
“
H ave I n ot p rayed in solemn H eaven ?
’
On earth h as he n ot pray d ?
Are not two p raye rs a pe rfect stren gth ?
And S hall I feel afraid ?
,
.
,
,
When round his head the au reole clings
And he i s clothed in white
’
I ll take his hand and go wit h h im
To the deep wells of l ight
And we will step down as to a stream
’
An d bathe there i n God s sight
,
,
,
,
.
We two will stand beside that sh rine,
Occult w i th held u n tr od
Whose la m ps tremble conti nually
With prayer sent u p to God ;
’
And wh ere each need reveal d expect s
Its patien t peri od
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,
84
TH E
B L E S S ED DAM O ! E L
C ircle
wise sit they wi t h bou n d loc ks
An d bosoms covered
Into the fine cloth white li ke flame
Weaving the golden th read
To fashion the bi rth robes for them
Who are j ust bo rn being dead
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shall fear haply an d be dumb
Then I will lay my ch eek
To h is and tell about ou r love
Not once abash d or weak
And the dear Mother will app rove
My p ride and let me speak
He
,
,
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’
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,
“
H e rself shall b ring u s, han d in han d ,
To H im round whom all souls
’
—
Kneel the u n n u mbe r d solem n heads
’
Bo w d with their au reoles :
And Angels meeting u s shall sin g
To thei r citherns and citoles
,
,
.
The re will I ask of C h rist the Lord
Thus much for him an d me
To have mo re bless i ng than o n ea rth
In n ow ise b u t to be
As then we were — being as then
At peace Yea ve r ily
,
.
“
.
,
ve rily when he is mi n e
We wi ll do th u s and thus :
Till this m y vigil seem quite stran ge
And almost fabulous
We two wi ll live at once on e l ife ;
”
And peace shall be w i th us
Yea,
,
.
S I BYLLA
85
PA LM I F E RA
'
She gazed and li sten d and the n said
Less sad of s peech than mild
“
All this is when he comes
She ceased
’
’
The l igh t t h rill d past her fill d
With Angels in strong level la pse
’
H e r eyes pray d an d sh e sm iled
,
,
,
,
”
.
:
,
.
,
.
,
I
saw
her
smile
But
soon
thei
r
fl
i
gh
t
)
(
’
Was vague mid the poised sphe res
An d then sh e cast he r ar ms along
The golden barri ers
An d la i d her face between her ha n ds,
A n d wept ( I hear d her tears )
.
.
,
.
.
D AN TE GA B RI EL RO SSE T T I ( 1 828 1 8
82 )
-
S I BYLLA PALMIFERA
UN DER the arch of Life where love and death
Te rr or an d mystery gua rd her sh ri n e I saw
Beauty enth roned and though h er ga z e st ruck awe
I drew it in as simply as my breath
H ers are the eyes which ove r and be n ea th
The sky an d sea bend on th ee — which ca n draw
By sea or sky or woman to one law
The allot t ed bondman of he r palm and wreath
,
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Th is is that Lady Beauty in wh ose p raise
Thy vo i ce and hand shake still — long known to thee
By flying hair and flutte ring hem —the beat
Following he r daily of th y heart an d feet,
H o w passionately and irret rievably
I n what fo n d flight how many ways and days
,
,
,
,
D AN T E GA BRI EL
R O SS ETTI
86
S O NN E T S F RO M S H AK ES PE AR E
LOVES I GH T
W HEN do I see thee most beloved one ?
When i n the ligh t the sp i ri ts of m i ne eyes
Before thy face their altar solemnise
The worsh ip of that Love through thee m ade kn ow n ?
Or when i n t he dusk hou rs, (we two al o n e )
Close kissed and eloquent of still rep lies
Thy twi l i gh t h i dde n glimme ri n g visag e lies
And my soul only sees thy soul its own ?
,
,
,
,
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,
O love my love if I no more should see
Thyself nor on the earth the shadow of thee
Nor image of thine eyes in any s pring
’
Ho w then should sound u pon Life s darken ing slope
The ground whirl o f the perished leaves of H ope
’
The wi n d of D eath s imperishable wi n g ?
DAN TE GA BRI EL ROSSE TTI
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,
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S ON G FR OM
“
M UCH
ADo A BO U T
N O T HIN G
”
S I G H no more lad ies sigh n o more
Men were deceive rs ever
On e foot in sea and one on shore
To one th i ng constant never :
Then sigh not so but let them go
An d be you bl i the and bonny
Converti ng all your sounds of woe
Into H ey n onny n onny
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Sing n o more ditties S i ng n o mo re
Of dumps so dull an d heavy ;
The fraud of men was ever 80
Since sum mer fi rst was leavy :
The n sigh n ot so but let them go
An d be you blithe an d bo nn y
,
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87
S O N NE TS F R O M S H AK ES P E A RE
Conve rting all you r sou n ds of woe
In to H ey no n ny n onny
.
,
W ILLI AM S H A KES P E A R E ( 1 564
1 61 6 )
S ONNETS F R OM S H AKESPEARE
’
SH ALL I compa r e thee to a summe r s day ?
Thou a r t more lovely an d mo re temperate
Rough w i nds do shake the darling buds of May
’
And summer s lease hath all too sho r t a date :
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines
’
And ofte n is his gold complexion d im m d
And eve ry fair from fair sometime declines
’
’
By chance or natu re s changing course, u n trimm d
But thy ete rn al summer shall not fade
Nor lose possessio n of that fair thou owest
Nor shall Death b rag thou wander est in his shade
Whe n in ete rnal li n es to time thou gro west
So long as me n can breathe or eyes can see
So lon g lives this , and th is gives life to thee
,
,
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,
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’
expen se of Spiri t i n a waste of shame
Is lust i n action and till action lust
Is perj u red mu rde rous bloody full of blame
Savage e x tr eme rude cruel not to trust ;
’
E nj oy d n o soone r but des p is e d st raight
Pas t reason hun ted and no sooner had
’
Past reaso n hated as a swallo w d bait
On pu rpose lai d to make the tak er mad :
Mad in pu rsuit and in possession so
H ad having and in quest to have ex treme
A bli ss in p roo f and proved a ve ry woe
Before a j oy proposed ; beh i nd a dream
All this the world well knows yet n one kn ows well
To shu n the heave n that leads me n to this hell
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S O NN ETS F RO M S H AK ES PEA RE
me not to the ma rri age of true mi n ds
Admit impedi ments
Love i s n o t love
Which al ters when it altera t i on finds
Or bends w i t h the remover to remove
0 no ! it is an ever fiX Ed mark
That looks on tem p ests and i s never shaken
I t is the star to every wande ring bark
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Whose worth s unknown although his hei ght be tak en
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Love s n ot T i me s fool though rosy l i ps and ch eeks
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W ith in h is bending sickle s compass come ;
Love alters not w i t h h is b ri ef hours and weeks
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But bears it out ev n to the edge of doom :
If this be error and upon me proved,
I n eve r w ri t nor no man eve r loved
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BEIN G you r slave, what should I do but tend
U p on the hou rs and times of you r desire ?
I have no p recious time at all to s p end
No r servi ces to do till you requ i re
Nor dare I ch i de the world wi t hout end hou r
Whilst I my sove rei gn watch t he cloc k for you,
Nor th i nk the b i t terness of absence sou r
When you have bid your servan t once adieu :
Nor dare I questi o n w i th my j ealous t h o nglrt
Where you may be or your afl airs suppose
Bu t like a sad slave stay and think of nought
Save where you are how happy you make those
So t r u e a fool is love that in you r will
Though you do an ything he th inks n o ill
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O DE T O
TH E
WES T WIN D
ODE TO
TH E
WEST WIND
89
1
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O W ILD West Wind thou breath of Autum n s bein g
Thou fro m wh ose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are d riven like ghosts from an enchanter flee ing
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Yellow and blac k and pale and h ect i c red
Pestilen ce stri ck e n m u lti tudes
O thou
Who ch ariotest to their dark wint ry b ed
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The winged seeds where they l i e cold and low
Each li ke a co rpse wi thin its grave unti l
Thine azure Sister of the sp ring shall blow
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H er
cla rio n o er the dream i ng earth and fill
Drivi
ng
sweet
buds
like
flocks
to
feed
in
air
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With li ving hues a n d odou rs plain and hill
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Wild Spi rit which a rt moving eve rywhe re,
Destroyer and prese rver hear 0 hear !
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Thou o n whose stream mid the steep sk y s commotio n
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Loose clouds like ea rth s decaying leaves are shed
Shook from the tangled boughs of H eaven and Ocean
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Angels of rai n and ligh tning : the re a re sp read
On the blue surface of th i ne ai r y surge
Like the b right hai r uplifted fr om the head
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Of some fie rce Maen ad even from the d im ve rge
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Of the ho ri zon to the zenith s heigh t
The l ocks of the app roachin g sto rm
Thou di rge
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90
O DE
WES T W I N D
TO TH E
Of the dying yea r to which this closin g n ight
W i l l be the dome of a vast se p ulch re,
Vaulted with all thy congr egated might
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O f vap ours from whose solid atmos phere
Black rain an d fire an d hail will burst :
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hear !
II I
Thou who didst waken from his summe r d reams
T he blue Med i te rranea n where he lay
Lulled by the coil of h is c rystallin e streams
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Beside a pumice isle i n Baiae s bay
And saw in sleep old palaces and towe rs
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Q uive ri ng withi n the wave s in te n ser day,
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All overgrown with az u re moss an d flowe rs
So sweet the sense fain ts picturi ng them ! Thou
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For whose path the Atlan tic s level powe rs
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Cleave themselves into chasms while far below
The sea bl ooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean k no w
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Thy voice and suddenly g row grey with fea r
And tremble a n d despoil them selves : 0 hear !
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I f I we re a dead leaf thou mightest bear
I f I were a sw if t cloud to fly with thee
A wave to pant beneath thy power and sha re
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The im p ulse of thy strength o nly less free
I f even
Than thou O uncontrollable
I we re as in my boy h cod an d could be
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H YMN
92
TH E
OF
PA N
INDIAN SERENADE
I ARI S E
from d reams of thee
In the first sweet slee p of nigh t
When the w i nds are breath i ng low
And the s tars are sh i ning bri ght
I a rise from dreams of t hee
And a spi rit in my feet
H ath led me — who knows how ?
To thy chambe r wi n dow Sweet !
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The wanderi ng ai rs they faint
On the dark the silent stream
And the Champak s odou rs ( pi ne)
L i ke sweet thou gh ts in a dream ;
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The n igh tingale s com plaint
It d i es upon her hea r t
As I must on thine
O belov ed as thou a rt !
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lift me from the grass
I die ! I faint ! I fail !
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale
My ch eck is cold and white alas !
My hear t beats loud and fast :
0 p ress it to thine ow n again
Where it will break at last
P ER C Y BY SSH E SHELLE Y
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H YMN
OF PAN
FRO M
the forests and highla n ds
We come we come
From the rive r girt island s
Where loud waves are dumb,
Liste n i n g to my sweet pipings
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H YM N
93
O F PAN
The wind i n the reeds an d the rushes
The bees o n the bells of thyme
The birds on the myrtle bushes
The cicale above i n the lime
And the liza rds below in the grass
Were as sile n t as eve r old Tm o lu s was,
Listenin g to my sweet pipin gs
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Liquid Pe n eus was flowi n g
And all dark Tempe lay
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In Pelio n s sh adow outgrowing
The light of the dying day
S p eeded by my sweet pipin gs
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The Silen i and Sylva ns a n d Fau n s
And the Nymphs of the woods and waves,
To the edge of the moist ri ver law n s
And the b rink of the dewy caves
An d all that did the n atte n d a n d follow
We re s i lent with love as you n ow Apollo
With e n vy of my sweet pipings
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I san g of the dancing stars
I sang of the d aedal ea rth
And of heaven and the giant wa rs
And love and death and bir th
And then I chan ged my pi p ings
Singi n g how down the vale of M aenalus
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I pursued a maiden and clasp d a reed
God s an d men we ar e all deluded thus
It breaks i n our bosom an d the n we bleed
All wep t —as I thin k both ye n ow would
If envy or age had n ot froze n you r blood
At the so rrow of my sweet p ipings
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P ER C Y BY SSHE SHELLEY
E PIT H ALA M I O N
94
EPIT H ALAMION
lea rn ed siste rs wh i ch have o ftentimes
Beene to me ay d in g others to adorn s
Whom ye t hough t worthy of your gracefu ll rymes,
That even the greatest d i d n ot gr eatly scorn s
To h ears t h eyr names sung in you r sim ple layes
Bu t j oyed in t h e yr p raise
And when ye l i st your own s mishaps to mo u rn s
W h i ch dea t h or love or fo r tunes w reck did rayse,
Your stri ng could soone to sad der tenor t urn s
And teach the woods an d waters to lamen t
Your d olsfu ll d rerim en t :
Now lay those sorrowfu ll compla i n ts aside ;
And having all your heads w i th girlan d s cro wn d
H el p s m s m i ne own s loves pray ses to r esound
Ne let the sam e of any be env i de :
So Or p heus did for his own s bri de !
So I u nto my selfe alone will s i ng ;
The woods shall to me answer and my Ecch o ri n g
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Early before the worlds light giving lampe
H is golden beame upon the h i ls do t h s p red
H av i ng d ispe rst the n i gh ts u n ch eare fu ll dampe,
Doe ye awake an d wi th fresh lusty b ed
Go to the b owre of my belov ed love
My truest turtle d ove
B i d her awake for H ymen is awak e
And long s i nce ready forth h is m asks to move
With h i s br i ght Tead that flames w i t h many a flak e
And man y a bach elor to waits o n h im
I n t h eyr fresh garments tri m
B i d her awak e there fore and soone he r d i ght
For 10 ! t h e wish ed day is co m e at last
T hat shall fo r all the pay n es and sorrowss pas t
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E P I TH ALAM I O N
95
Pay to he r usu ry of long delight :
An d wh ylest she doth he r dight
Doe ye to her of j oy and solace sing
That all t h e woods may answer an d you r
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Ecc h o ri ng
B ri n g with you all t h e N ym ph es that you ca n h ear s
Both of the ri vers and t h e forrests green s
And of the sea that n eighbours to her nea rs :
AI w i th gay girlande goodly wel beseen s
And le t them also with them bring in h and
Another gay girland
Fo r my fay re love o f lillyes and of roses
Bound truelove wiz s with a blew s i lk s riband
And let them make great sto re of br i dale poses
And let them eek s bring sto re of othe r flowe rs
To dec k the b ri dale bowe rs
And let t h e ground whereas he r foot shall tread
Fo r fears th e stones he r tender foot S hould wrong
Be st rewed wi th frag rant flowers all along
And d iapred lyke the discolo red mead
Wh i ch done doe at he r chamber dore awayt
For sh e will waken stray t ;
Th e wh i les doe ye th i s song u n to her sing
Th e woods S hall to you answe r and your Ecch o ri n g
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Ye Nymphes of Mulla wh ich wi th carefull heed
The silver scaly t routs doe tend full well
An d greedy p i kes which u se therein to feed ;
Those
t
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pikes
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others
doo
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cell
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And ye likewise which k eeps the r ushy lake
Where n one doo fishes take
Bynd u p t h e locks t h e which han g scat t srd light
And i n his wate rs which you r mirror make
Behold you r faces as th e ch ristall b ri gh t
That when you com e whe reas my love doth lie
No blemish sh e may spie
An d ek e ye l i ghtfoot m ayd s which keeps the dee re
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E PI TH A LAM I O N
96
That o n the hoa ry mo u n tayn e used to towre
And t h e wylde wolves which seeks them to devou rs
With you r ste els darts doo chac e from com ming n ee r
Be also presen t h eers
To he l ps to d ecks her and to help to sing
That all t h e woods may answer and your Ecch o rin g
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Wake now my love awake fo r it is t im e
The Rosy Mo rn s long since left Ti t h on es bed
All ready to her silver coche to clym e ;
And Ph oebus gins to shew h i s glo rious hed
H ark ! how t h e ch eerefu ll birds do chaun t t h eyr laies
And carroll o f Loves praise
Th e merry Larke hi r mattins sings aloft ;
The Thrush rsplyss the Mavis descant playes ;
The Ouzell shr ills t h e Ruddock warbles soft ;
So good l y all agree w i th sweet conse n t
To th i s dayes merriment
Ah my deere love why doe ye sleeps thus lon g ?
Whe n meeter were that ye should n ow awak e
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T awayt t h e co m m in g of your j oyous make
And hearken to the b irds love learn ed song
Th e deawy leaves amon g !
No r they of j oy and pleasa n ce to you si n g
That all th e woods them a nswe r and t h eyr Ecch o ri n g
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My love is now awake out of h er d ream es
And he r fayr s eyes l i ke sta rs that dimm ed were
W i th darksome cloud now shew t h eyr goodly beams
More br ig h t then H esperus h is head do t h rere
Come now ye d am zels daughte rs of del ight
H el ps quick l y her to d i ght
But first come ye fayre h ou res which we re begot
In Joves sweet parad i se of Day and Nigh t
Wh i ch doe the seasons of the years allot
And al that ever in this world is fay re
Dos m ake and still rspay re :
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97
E PI T H A LAM I O N
And ye th ree h an d mayd s of the Cyp ria n Q u een s
The which doe s till ad orn s h er beauti es p ri de
H elps t o ad d or n s my bea u ti fullest bride
An d as ye h er array still throw betwee n s
Some gra ces to be se sn e
And as ye u se to Venus to he r si n g
The whiles the woods sh al answe r an d your Ecch o
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Now is my love all r eady fo rth to come :
Let all t h e virgins therefore well away t :
And ye fresh boyes that tend upon he r groo ms
P repa re you r selves for he i s co m m in g st rayt
Set all you r things in see mely good a ray
Fit fo r so j oyfull day :
The joyfu lst day that eve r sunn s did see
Fairs Su n ! shew forth t h y favou rable ray
An d let thy lifull h eat not ferven t be
For fea rs of bu rni ng he r su nsh yn y face
H er beauty to disgr ace
O fayrest Phoeb u s ! father of t h e Muse !
If eve r I did honou r thee a right
O r sing t h e thing that mote t h y mind delight,
Doe not thy servants simple boon s refuse
But let this day let th is on e day be my n e ;
Let all the rest be thine
The n I thy so verayn e prayses loud wil s in g
That all the woods shal a nswe r a n d t h eyr Ecch o
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how the M in strils gin to shri ll aloud
Their me rry Musick that resounds fr om far
The pipe t h e tabor and the trembl i ng Grond
That well ag ree withouten b reach or jar
But m ost of all the Damzels doe d elits
Whe n they thei r t ym b rels sm y te
And thereun to d os d au n ce and carrol sweet
That all the sen css they doe ravish quite
The wh yles t he boyes r u n up an d d own s t h e st reet
H ark e
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98
E P ITH A LAM I O N
C rying aloud with stron g confused n oyee,
As if it were one voyc e
H ymen i6 H y men H ymen they do shout ;
That even to the heavens t h ey r shout i ng sh rill
Doth reach and all the fir mam en t doth fill ;
To which the p eo p le stand i ng all about
As i n a pp rovance doe thereto ap plaud
And loud ad vau n ce her laud
And evermore they H ymen H ymen sing
That al t h e wo ods them answer and t h ey r Ec ch o ring
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where sh e comes along with po rtly pace
Lyke Ph oebe from her chamber of th e East
Ary sin g forth to run her mighty race
Cla d al l in whi te that see m es a virgin best
So well it her b esee m es that ye would weene
S o m e angel ! she had be sne
H er long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre
S prin cklsd wi th perle and p erl i ng flowers at wesn s,
D os lyke a golden mantle her at t y re
And being crown ed with a gi rland gree n s
See m s lyke som e m ayden Q u ee n s
H er modest eyes abash e d to behold
So many gaz ers as o n he r do star s
Upo n the lowly ground affi x e d are ;
Ne dare lift up he r countenance too bold
But blush to h ears her prayses sung so loud
So farrs from be i ng proud
Nat h lesse doe ye st i l l loud her prayses sing
That all the woods may an swer and your Ecch o ring
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Tell me ye merchants dau gh ters did ye see
So fayre a creature in your t o wn s befo re
So sweet so lovely and so m i l d as sh e
Ad orn d with bearrt y es grace and vertues sto re ?
H er goodly eyes lyke Saph yres shining b right
H er forehead y vory white
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E P I T H ALA M I O N
l oo
For to recey ve th is Saya t with ho n ou r dew
Tha t co m me th in to you
Wi t h trembl i ng s te ps and humble reve rence
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S h e co m me t h in before t h Alm igh t ies view ;
O f her ye virgi ns learn s obed i ence
When so ye co me into th ose holy places
To hu mble your p r oud fac es :
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Bri ng he r u p to t h h i gh alta r that sh e may
The sacred ceremonies there partake
The wh i ch do endless s mat rimony mak e
And let the ror in g Orga n s loudly play
Th e prai ses of t h e Lord in lively n otes ;
The wh i les wi t h hollow t h roat es
The C h oristers t h e j oyous An t h e ms si n g
That al the woods may answe rs an d thei r Ecch o ring
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Behold whiles sh e before the altar stan ds
H earing the holy priest that to her speakes
And b l esseth her with his two hap py han ds
H o w the red roses flush u p in her ch eekes
And the pure snow with goodly verrni ll stayn e
L ike crim sin d yd s i n grayne :
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That even t h Angels which con ti n ually
A bout the sac r ed Altare d oe remai n s
Forget thei r service and about her fly
Ofte pee p ing in he r face that see ms mo re fayr s
Th e more they on it stare
But her sad eyes still fastened o n the grou n d
Are govern e d with good ly m odesty
That su fl e rs not o ne looks to glannes aw ry
Wh i ch may let in a li t tle t hought u n sown d
Why blush ye love to give to me your ha n d ,
The pledge of all ou r band
S i ng ye sweet Angels Allelu ya sing
That all the woods may answe rs a n d you r Ecch o ring
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1 01
EPI TH ALAM I O N
Now al is do n e : b ring h om e the bride agai n s
B ring h om e the t ri ump h of ou r v i cto ry :
B ring h om e w i th you th e glo ry of h er gains
With joyance bri ng he r and with j ollity
Neve r b ad man more jo y fu ll d ay than this
Whom heaven would h eap s with bl i s
M ake feast therefore now all t his l i ve lo n g day :
Th i s day for ever to me h oly is
P o rrre out the w i ne w i th out restraint or stay
P o u rs n ot by cu p s but by t h e bel l y f ull
Pours out to al l that wu ll
And sp rinkle all the postes and wals with win s
That th ey may sweat and drunken be wit h all
C rown s ye God Bacchus w i th a coronal!
A n d H ymen also crown s with wreathes of vin e
And let the G races d au n cs u n to the r est
For they can d oo it best
The wh i les the m ay d en s doe t h ey r ca rroll sing
To which t h e woods shall answer a n d t h eyr Becho
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Ri n g ye th e bels ye yong me n of the t own s
And leave your wonted labors for th i s day
This day is holy doe ye write it d own s
That ye for ever it remember may
This day the sunn s is i n his chiefest hight
With Barnaby the b righ t
From whence declining daily by degrees
H e somewhat loseth of his h eat and l i ght
When once the Crab be h i nd h is bac k he sees
But for this time it ill ordai n ed was
To chose t h e longest day in all the years
And sho rtest n i ght when longest fitte r wears :
Yet never day so long but late would passe
R i ng ye the bels to make it wears away
And bo n efisrs make all day
An d d au n c s about them and about them sing
That all the woods may an swer an d you r Ecch o ring
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E P IT H ALA M I O N
1 02
Ah whe n will this lon g weary day have en d
And len d s me leave to come u n to my love ?
H o w slowly do the honres t h ey r numb ers s p e n d ?
H o w slowly does sad T i me h i s feathers n ro ve ?
H ast thee O fay r est Planet to thy home
W i t hin the Western s foam
Thy tyred stee d es long since have n eed of rest
Long t hough i t be at last I see it gl oom s
And t he bri gh t even in g star with golden creast
Appear s out of the East
Fayre ch i lde of beauty glo rious lam ps of love
That al l the host of h eaven i n rarrkes d oost lead
And g u yd est love rs through t h e n ights sad dread
H ow ch earefu lly thou lookest from above
And see m st to laugh at wee n e thy twinkling light,
As joying in t h e s i ght
Of these glad many which fo r j oy d oe sing
That all the woods them an swer an d their Ecch o ri ng !
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Now ceasse ye damsels you r del i ghts fo r e pas t ;
Enough i t i s that all the day was y o n res :
Now day i s doen and ni ght is n ighing fast
Now bri ng the Bryd s into t h e b ryd all bo u rea
The night is come n ow soon her d isaray
And in her bed her lay
Lay her in l i ll ies and in violets
And silken co u rt ein s over her display
And odours S heetss and Ar ras coverlets
Behold how goodly my fairs love does 1y
In p roud h umili t y
Like un to M ai a when as Jove her took
In Tem ps lying o n t h e fl o wry gras
T wi x t slee p s an d wake afte r sh e weary was
With bath i ng i n t h e Ac id alian b rooks
Now i t is ni ght ye damsels may be gon
And leave my love alon e
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E PI T H A LAM ION
1 04
No r griesly vultu res mak e us once afleard :
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Ne let t h unpleasan t Ouyre of F rogs still crokin g
M ake us to w i sh t h e y r chok i ng
Let no n e of t h ese t h ey r d rery acce n ts sing ;
Ne le t the woods the m answe r, n o r t h eyr Ecch o rin g
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But let still Silence trew n igh t watches k eeps
That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne
And t y mely S l eep w he n it is tym s to sl eep s
May pou rs h is l i mbs forth on you r pleasan t p layn e
Th e whiles an hund r ed l i ttle winge d loves
Like d i ve rs fet h ersd doves
Shall fly and flutter r ound about you r bed
A n d in the secret darke that n on e reproves
The i r prety ste alt h es shal work s and snares shal spr ead
To filch away sweet snatches of delight
Con ceald th rough covert ni ght
Ye sonnes of Venus p lay you r spo rts at w ill !
For greedy pleasure carelesss of you r toyes,
Thi n ks more upon her parad i se o f j oyes
Then what ye do albeit good o r ill
All night there fore atte n d you r mer ry play
Fo r it wi ll soone be day
Now n o n e doth hinde r you that say or sing
N s wi ll the woods n ow answe r n o r your Ecch o ring
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Who is the same which at my wi n dow pee pes ?
O r whose is that fairs face that shines so bri ght ?
Is it not Cinthia sh e that neve r sleepes
Brrt wal kes about high h eaven al the ni ght ?
0 fay rest goddesss do thou n ot e n vy
My love with me to spy :
For thou likewise didst love though n ow unthought,
And for a fleece of wool! wh i ch p riv i ly
Th e Lat mian sh e p he rd once unto thee brough t
H is pleasu res with thee wr ough t
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E P I TH ALAMI O N
1 05
The refo re to us be favorabl e n ow ;
And sith of we m ens labours thou hast charge
And gene rati on good ly dost enlarge
’
Encline thy will t e fiect ou r wish q vow
And t he chast wombe in form s w i th timely seed
That may ou r comfort breed
Till which we cease ou r h o pefu ll h ap to sing ;
Ne let t h e woods us answers nor our Ecch o ring
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And thou great Juno which with awful m igh t
The lawes of wedl oc k still dost patron iz e
And the rel i gion o f th e faith fi rst p ligh t
Wi t h sacred ri tes h as taugh t to solemnize ;
And eek s fo r comfo rt often call e d a rt
O f wome n in the i r sma rt
Eternally bind thou th is lovely band
An d all thy blessings u n to us impa rt
And thou glad Gen i u s i n whose gentle han d
The b ridale bowrs and gen iall bed remain s
Wi t hout blemish o r stain s
And the sweet pleas u r es of t h eyr loves delight
Wi th sec ret ayd e doest succou r and s u p ply
Till they b ri n forth t h e fr u it fu ll progeny
Send u s the t i mely fruit of this same night
And thou fayre H ebe and thou H ymen free
Grant that it may so be
T i l wh i ch we cease your furthe r p re ys s to sing ;
Ne any woods shall answer n or your Ecc h o rin g
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And ye high heavens the temple of the god s
In wh i ch a thousand torch es flam i ng b righ t
Doe b u rn s that to u s wretch ed earthly clod s
In dreadful darknesss lend desi red light
And all ye powers which i n the same rem ayn e,
Mo re then we men can fayne !
Pou rs out your blessin g on us plen t io usly
An d happy influe n ce upon us rain s
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TO
1 06
TH E O D O RE
WA TTS D UN T O N
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That we may raise a large poste ri ty
Wh i ch from the earth wh i ch they may lon g possesse
W i t h las t i ng ha ppi ness s
U p to your haugh t y pallac es may mount ;
A n d for the guerdon of t h e yr glo rious merit
May heavenly tabernacles there inheri t
O f bless ed Sain ts for to i ncrease the count
So let us rest sweet love in h ope of th i s
And cease till then ou r t ym ely j oyes to sing
The woods no more us answer n or ou r Ecc h o ri ng 1
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Son g made in lieu of many o rnaments
W i th wh i ch my love should duly have bee n dect
Which cutting off through hasty accidents
Ye would not stay you r dew time to e x pect
But pro m ist both to r ecom pen s
Be unto h er a goodly ornament
And for S hor t time an e n dlesss mon ime n t
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E DM UN D
TO
S P E N S ER ( 1 552—1 599)
T H E OD ORE WATTS DUNTON ( D ED ICA TORY
S ONN ET— T RI S TRAM or LYON E SS E)
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S P RI N G speaks again an d all our woods are sti rred
And all ou r wi de glad wastes a flo wer around
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That twice have heard kee n Apr il s clari on sound
Since here we first together saw and hea rd
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Spring s light reverberate an d rei te rate wo rd
Shine forth and s p eak in ssasorr L ife stan d s c ro wn ed
H ere wi t h the best on e thing it ever found
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As of my soul s b est bi rthdays daw ns the third
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1 08
F I RS T
C H O RUS F R O M
“
A TALAN TA
”
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For winte r s rains an d ruins are ove r
And all the season of snows a n d sins
Th e days d i viding love r and love r
The l i gh t that loses the nigh t t hat win s ;
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An d time re m embe r d is grief forgotten
And frosts are sla i n and flowe rs begotte n
And in green underwood and cove r
Blosso m by blossom the sp ring begi ns
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The full streams feed on flower of rushes
Ripe grasses trammel a t ravell i ng foot
Th e fa i nt fresh flame of the young year flushes
From leaf to flowe r and flower to fruit
And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire
And the oat i s heard above the lyr e
And the h oo fed heel of a satyr crushes
The chestnut h us k at the chestnut r oot
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And Pa n by n oo n and Bacchus by n igh t
Fleeter of foot than the fl eet foot kid
Follo ws with dancing and fills with delight
Th e M aenad and t h e Bassarid
And so ft as li p s that laugh and hide
The laughing leaves of the trees divide
An d screen from seeing and leave in sight
The god pursuing t h e maide n bid
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The ivy falls with the Bacchan al s hai r
Ove r her eyebrows hiding her eyes ;
Th e wild vine sli pping down leaves bare
H er b right breast shortening in to s i ghs
The wild v i ne slips with the weigh t of its leaves
But the be rried ivy catches and cleaves
To the limbs that gl i tter the feet that scare
Th e wolf that foll ows t h e fa wn that fli es
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AL G ER N O N C H A RLES SW I N BU RNE
TH E
TH E
LAD Y O F S H A LOTT
1 09
L ADY O F S H ALOTT
P AR T
I
ON
either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clo t h s the wold and m eet t h e sky
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An d th ro the field t h e road runs by
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To many t ower d Camelot
A n d up and down the peo ple go
Ga zing whe re the lil i es blow
Roun d an island there below
The islan d of S h alo tt
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Willows white n aspens quive r
L i ttle bree zes dusk and shiver
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Th ro t h e wave that runs fo r eve r
By the island in the rive r
Flow i ng down to Camelot
Fou r grey walls and four grey towe rs
Ove rlook a space of flowe rs
An d the silent isle i mbowe rs
The Lady of S h alo t t
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By the margi n willow veil d
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Slide the heavy barges trail d
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By slow ho rses ; an d n n h ail d
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The sh allo p fli tt e t h silken sail d
S kimm i ng down to Camelot :
But who h ath see n he r wave her han d
Or at t he case ment seen her stand ?
Or is she known in all the lan d
The Lady of S h alot t ?
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1 10
LAD Y O F S H A LOTT
TH E
Only rea pers r eap i ng early
In among t h e be arded barley
H ea r a song tha t echoes chee rly
From the ri ve r wi nding c l earl y
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Down to tower d Camelot :
And by the m oon t he rea per wea ry
P i l i ng s h eaves in u pl an d s ai ry
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Listening wh i s pers Tis the fai ry
Lady of S h alo t t
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P AR T
II
There sh e weaves by n i ght and day
A magic web w i th colours gay
She has heard a whis p er say
A curse i s o n her if she stay
To look down to Camelot
She knows not what the curse may be
And so she wea veth steadily
And li t tl e other ca re hath she,
Th e Lady of S h alot t
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And movi n g th rough a m i rror clear
That hangs before he r all the yea r
Shadows of t he world appear
There she se es the h i ghway nea r
Wind i ng down to Camelot :
There the rive r ed dy whirls
And there the surly v i llage churls
And the red cloaks o f market girls
Pass onward from S h alo t t
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Someti mes a tr oo p of damsels glad
An abbot on an ambl i ng pad
Someti mes a curly shepherd la d
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Or long bai r d page i n cri mson cl ad
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Goes by to t o wer d C amelot ;
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T H E LA D Y O F
1 12
S H A LOTT
All in the b l u e u n cl ouded weathe r
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Th i ck je well d shon e the sad dl e l eather
The he l met a n d the hel met feathe r
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Bu r u d lik e o n e b ur nin g flame togethe r
As he r ode dow n to Camelot
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As ofte n th r o the pu rple night
Below the sta rry c l u ste rs bri gh t
S ome b ea rded meteo r t railin g light
Moves ove r still S h alott
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H is b road clea r br ow in s un l i gh t gl ow d ;
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On b u rn ish d h oo v es h i s war ho rse t r ode ;
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F rom u n de rn eath h i s helmet fl o w d
H is coal bl ac k cu rls as on he r ode,
As h e rode dow n to Camel ot
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F rom the ba nk a n d from the ri ve r
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H e flash d in to the c rystal
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T irra lirra, b y the ri ve r
S an g Sir La n celot
S he
S he
S he
S he
mirr o r,
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left the web she left the loom
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made th ree p aces th r o the room ,
saw the wate r l i ly bloom
saw the hel met a n d the p l ume
S he loo k d dow n to Camel ot
O ut flew the web an d fl oated w i de
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The m irror crac k d fro m s i de to s i de 5
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The cu rse i s come u po n me ! c ri ed
The L ady of S h alot t
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P A RT
IV
In the sto rmy eas t win d strainin g
The p ale yel l ow woods we re wanin g
The broad stream in h is ba nks com p lainin g
H eavi l y the low sk y ra inin g
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O ve r t ower d Camelot
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TH E
1 13
O F S H A LOTT
LAD Y
Dow n she came an d foun d a boat
Be n eath a w i l low le ft afloat
A n d ro un d about the prow she wrote
The Lad y of S h alott
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An d down the ri ve r s d i m ex p an se
Lik e so me b old see r in a tran ce,
S ee in g all h is ow n m i schan ce
Wi th a gl ass y cou n te n an ce
D i d she loo k to Camelot
A n d at the clos in g of the d ay
S he l oosed the chain a n d down she la y ;
T he broad str eam bo re he r far away
The Lady of S h alo tt
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L yin g r o bed in s n owy wh i te
That l oosely fl e w to left a n d ri gh t
The l eaves upo n he r fallin g li ght
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Th ro the n oi ses of the ni gh t
S he floated down to Camelot :
An d as the boat h ea d wou n d a l on g
The wi ll owy h i lls an d fiel ds amo n g
They h ea rd her s in gin g he r last so n g
The Lady of S h alo t t
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H ea rd a
C h an ted
ca rol mou rn ful h ol y
l oud l y cha n ted lowly,
T i l l he r blood was froze n sl owl y
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An d he r eyes we r e d arken d wholly,
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Tu ru d to to we r d Camelot ;
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F o r e re she reac h d u po n the ti de
The first ho use b y th e wate r s i de
Sin gin g in he r son g sh e d i ed
The Lady of S h alo t t
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TH E P O P P Y
1 14
Un de r towe r a n d balcon y,
B y ga rde n wall an d gall e ry
A gl eami n g sha pe sh e floated by
D ead pal e betwee n the ho uses h igh,
Sile n t in to Camelot
Ou t u p o n the wha rfs they came
Kni gh t a n d bu rghe r lo r d an d dame,
An d r ou n d the prow they r ead he r nam e,
Th e Lady of S h alott
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Wh o i s th is ? a n d what i s her e ?
An d in the li gh ted p alace n ea r
D i ed the sou n d of r oyal chee r
An d they c r ossed th emselves fo r fear
All the k ni gh ts at Camelot :
Bu t Lan cel ot mu sed a l i ttl e s pace
“
H e sa i d
S h e h as a l ove l y face ;
God in h i s me r cy le n d he r grace
T he L ady of S h alo t t
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LO R D T E NNYS O N
TH E
( 1 809 1 892 )
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P O PP Y
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S UM M ER set l ip to ea rth s bosom ba r e,
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An d le ft the fl u sh d prin t in a p opp y ther e
Lik e a yaw n of fir e fr o m the gr ass i t came
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An d the fannin g win d pu fi d i t to fla ppin g flame
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W i th bu rn t mouth red l ik e a l i o n s i t d rank
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The bl ood of the su n as he slau gh ter d sank
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A n d d ipp d i ts c u p in th e p ur p u rate sh in e
Whe n the easte rn co n d ui ts ra n wi th wi n e
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TH E
1 16
P O PPY
“
B u t y o u wh o love n o r kn ow at all
The d i ve rse chambe rs in Love s gu est hall
Whe r e some rise ea rl y few s i t l on g
I n how d iffe rin g acce n ts h ear t h e thr o n g
H is gr eat P e n tecostal to n gue
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Who kn ow n ot love from am i ty,
Nor my re p o rted self from me
A fa ir fit gi ft i s th i s meseems
Yo u gi ve — th i s wi the rin g flowe r of d r eams
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O fra n kl y fick le a n d fi ckly true
D o you kn o w what th e days w i ll do to yo u ?
To you r L o v e an d you what th e days wi ll do,
0 fra n kl y fic kle, an d fickly t ru e ?
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Yo u had loved m e F air th r ee l i ves—or da ys
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Tw ill p ass wi th the p ass in g of m y face
Bu t whe re I go you r face goes too
To watch lest I pl ay false to you
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I am b ut my sweet you r foste r love r
Kn ow in g well wh e n ce r ta in yea rs a r e ove r
You van ish from me to a n othe r ;
Yet I kn ow an d love l ike the foste r moth er
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S o fran kl y fickl e a n d fickly t rue
F o r my bri ef l i fe wh i l e I tak e fro m yo u
Th i s tok e n fair a n d fit meseems
F o r me — t h is wi the rin g flowe r of d reams
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The sl ee p flo wer sways in the wheat i ts h ead
H eavy wi th dr eams as that wi th bread :
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T he good l y gra in a n d the su n fl u sh d sl ee pe r
The rea pe r reaps a n d Ti me th e rea pe r
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L E T TY S G L O BE
1 17
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I han g m i d me n m y n eed less head
An d my fru i t is d r eams as the irs i s b r ead :
The good l y me n an d the su n h azed slee p e r
Ti me shal l r eap but afte r the reape r
The world sha ll gl ea n of me me the slee pe r
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wit h er d
Lo ve ! love you r flowe r of
d ream
In leav ed rh yme l i es safe I deem
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S h elte r d a n d shu t in a n oo k of r hyme
From the reape r man a n d h is r ea pe r T i me
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Love ! I fall in to the c l aws of T im e :
B ut lasts wi th in a leav ed r hyme
All that the wo rld of me esteems
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M y wit h er d d reams, my wit h er d d r eams
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1 907 )
F RAN CIS T H O M PS O N ( 1 8
60—
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L ETTY S G LO B E
’
W H EN Letty had scar ce pass d h er th ird glad yea r
An d he r you n g artless words bega n to flow
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On e day we gave the chi ld a colou r d s p he re
O f the wi de ea rth that sh e m igh t mark an d kn ow
By t in t a n d o u tlin e all i ts sea an d la n d
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S he patted all th e world old em pires peep d
Betwee n he r baby fi n ge rs he r soft ha n d
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Was welcome at all fr o n t i e rs H ow she leap d
An d lau gh d an d prattled in he r wo rld wi de bli ss
B ut whe n we tu rn ed he r sweet u n leam ed ey e
On our ow n isle she raised a j oyous cry
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O h ! yes I see i t L etty s home is the re
An d wh ile she h i d all En glan d wi th a kiss,
B right ove r E ur o pe fe l l he r golde n ha ir
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C H AR LES T EN NYS O N T URN E R ( 1 8
1 87 9)
08—
1 18
TO NIGH T
GO,
LO VE LY ROS E
Go , lovely R ose
T ell he r that was tes h e r t i me a n d me
That n ow sh e kn ows
When I r esem bl e h e r to thee
H o w sweet a n d fair she seems to be
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T el l her that s yo un g
A n d shu n s to h ave he r graces s pi ed
That hadst tho u s pru n g
In dese r ts whe r e n o me n abi de
T hou m ust have u n comme n d ed d i ed
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S m all i s the wo rth
O f beauty fr om the l i ght ret ir ed
Bid he r come fo rth
S u fl er he rself to be des ir ed
An d n ot bl ush so to be admir ed
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The n d i e — that she
T he commo n fate of all th in gs rare
May r ead in th ee :
H ow smal l a par t of ti me they shar e
T hat are so wo n dr o us sweet an d fa ir
.
EDM UND
WA LLER ( 1 606
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1 687 )
T O N I GH T
M vsr s m on s N i gh t ! wh e n our fi rst pa re n t kn ew
'
Thee from re po r t di v in e a n d h ea rd thy n ame
D i d h e n ot trem ble for th i s l ovel y frame
Th is glo ri ous can opy of li gh t a n d blue ?
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1 20
I NT I MA T I O N S O F I M M O RT A LI TY
Now , wh i le the birds th us s in g a joyous so n g ,
An d wh i l e the you n g lam bs bou n d
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As to the ta bo r s sou n d
To me alo n e the re came a thought of gri ef :
A ti mel y utte ra n ce gave that though t r el i ef
An d I aga in am stron g :
The cataracts blow the ir tr um pets from the ste ep
No mo re shal l g ri ef of m in e the seaso n w r o n g ;
I hea r the ech oes th rough the mou n ta in s th r on g
T he win ds come to me fr om the fields of slee p ,
An d all the ear th i s gay
L an d a n d sea
Gi ve themsel ves u p to j olli ty
An d w i th the hea r t of May
D oth eve ry b east k ee p holi day
Thou ch i l d of J oy
S ho u t r oun d me, let m e h ear th y shouts tho u ha pp y S h e p he r d
boy !
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Ye blessed C reat ur es I have h ea rd th e call
Ye to each othe r mak e I see
Th e h eave n s laugh wi th y ou in you r j ubilee ;
My hea r t is at your festi val
My h ead hath i ts cor o n al ,
The ful n ess of your bli ss I feel — I feel i t all
0 ev i l day i f I we r e su ll e n
Wh i l e E ar th he rself i s ado rn in g
Th is sweet May m o m in g
An d th e ch il d r e n ar e cull in g
On eve r y s ide
I n a thou sa n d val l eys far an d w i de
Fresh flowe rs ; wh ile the su n sh in es warm
’
An d the ba be l eaps u p o n h i s mothe r s ar m
I hear I hear w i th j oy I h ear !
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—Bu t there s a t ree of ma n y o n e,
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A s in gle field wh i ch I have look d u pon
Both of them s peak of someth in g that is go n e :
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I N T I MA TI O N S O F I M M O RT A LI TY
12 1
The pa n sy at my feet
D oth th e same tale r e pea t :
Wh i the r is fled the v i s i o n a r y gleam ?
Whe re is i t n ow, the glor y a n d the dr eam ?
Our b ir t h is but a sl ee p an d a forgettin g :
’
T he S o u l that ri ses w i th us ou r l i fe s S tar,
H ath had elsewhe r e i ts settin g,
A u d cometh from afa r :
Not in e n tire forgetful n ess
An d n ot in u tte r n ak ed n ess
B u t tra i lin g clouds of gl o ry do we co me
From God who is ou r home :
H eave n l i es about u s in o ur in fa n cy
S hades of the pri so n house begin to close
Upo n the gr owi n g Bo y
B u t he beholds the l i gh t a n d whe n ce i t flows
H e sees i t in h is joy ;
T he Yo u th who dai ly fa r the r from th e east
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Must t ravel sti l l i s Natu re s pri est
An d by the vi s i o n s ple n d i d
Is o n h i s way atte n ded
At len gth the Man p e r ce i ves i t d i e away,
An d fade in to the l i ght of commo n day
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Ea rth
fills he r la p wi th pleas ur es of he r o wn
Yea rnin gs she hath in he r ow n n atu ral kin d
’
An d eve n w i th someth in g of a mothe r s m in d
An d n o u n wor th y ai m
The h omely n u rse doth al l she can
To mak e he r foste r ch i ld he r in mate Man
F o rget the gl ori es he hath kn ow n
An d that i m pe ri al p alace whe n ce he came
Behold the Ch ild amon g h is n ew bo rn bl i sses
’
A six yea rs da rl in g of a pi gmy si ze
’
S ee wher e m i d work of h i s ow n ha n d he l i es
’
Fretted b y salli es of h is mothe r s k isses
’
Wi th light u po n h i m from h is fathe r s ey es !
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1 22
I N TI MA TI O N S O F I M M O RT A L I T Y
at h is feet some li ttle p la n o r ch ar t
S ome fragme n t from h i s d rea m of human life
S ha ped b y h i mself wi th n ew l y learn ed ar t ;
A weddin g o r a festiv al
A mournin g o r a fu n e ral
A n d th is hath n ow h is hear t,
An d u n to t h i s he frames h i s so n g :
The n w il l b e fit h i s ton gue
T o di alogues of b us in ess love or st ri fe
B ut i t wi ll n ot b e lon g
E re th i s be th r ow n as i de
An d w i th n ew j oy an d pri de
The l i ttle acto r co n s a n othe r p a rt ;
F il lin g from ti me to t i me h i s humor ous stage
W i th all the P e rson s dow n to pal s ied Age
That Li fe brin gs w i th he r in he r eq uip age
As i f h i s whole vocati o n
We r e e n dless i mi tati on
S ee ,
,
,
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,
.
T hou whose ex te ri o r semblan ce doth bel i e
’
Thy so ul s i mme n s i ty ;
T hou best p h i losoph er wh o yet dost k ee p
Thy he ri tage thou eye amon g the bl in d
’
That deaf a n d s il e n t read st the ete rn al dee p,
H a u n ted fo r eve r b y the ete rn al M in d
M i ghty P r o phet ! S ee r bl est !
On whom those t ru ths do rest
Wh i ch we ar e to i l in g all o ur li ves to fi nd
In darkn ess lost the darkn ess of the grave ;
Thou ove r whom th y I mmo rtali ty
’
B roods l ik e the D ay a maste r o e r a slave
A P rese n ce wh i ch i s n ot to be p ut by
To whom the grave
I s but a lon el y bed wi thout the se n se or s i ght
O f day o r the warm li gh t
A p lace of thought whe re we in wai ti ng li e ;
,
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1 24
I N T I M A T I O N S O F I M M O RT A L I TY
Wh i ch n e i the r l i stless n ess n o r mad e n deavour,
Nor Ma n n o r Boy
Nor al l that i s at e n m i ty w i th j oy
Ca n u tte rly a bo l ish or destroy
H e n ce in a seaso n of ca l m weathe r
Though in l an d far we be
O u r sou ls have si gh t of that i mmor tal sea
Wh i ch br ought us h i the r
Ca n in a mome n t tr ave l th i the r
An d see th e ch i l d re n s p or t u p on the sho re
A n d hea r the m ighty wate rs r ollin g eve r mo re
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The n s in g, y e b irds s in g s in g a j oyous son g !
An d let the you n g l am b s bou n d
’
As to the ta bo r s sou n d !
We in thought wi ll j oin you r th r on g
Ye that pi pe an d ye that pl ay
Ye that th r ough you r hea rts to—
day
F eel the gl ad n ess of th e May !
What though the rad ia n ce wh i ch was o n ce so bri gh t
Be n ow fo r eve r ta k e n from my si gh t
Though n oth in g ca n b rin g bac k the hou r
O f s ple n dou r in the grass of glor y in the flowe r ;
We wi ll gri eve n ot rathe r fi n d
S tre n gth in what remai n s beh in d
In the pri mal sym p ath y
Wh i ch ha vin g bee n must eve r be
I n the sooth in g though ts that s prin g
O ut of human su ffe rin g ;
In th e fai th that look s th ro u gh death ,
In yea rs that b rin g the p h i loso ph i c m in d
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An d 0 ye F ou n tain s M eadows H ills a n d G roves,
F or ebode n ot an y seve rin g of ou r l oves !
Yet in my h ea r t of hearts I fee l you r m i ght ;
’
I only have relin qu ish d o n e deli ght
,
,
,
E X TI NC T I O N
R E P UB L I C
OF VE N E T I A N
1 25
T o li ve be n eath yo ur mor e habi tual sway
I love the broo ks wh i ch dow n the ir chann els fret
’
E ven mo re tha n whe n I t ripp d l i ghtl y as they ;
T he in n oce n t bri gh tn ess of a n ew bo rn D ay
I s lovely yet
The clo u ds that gathe r ro un d the sett in g s un
D o ta k e a so be r colou rin g from a n eye
’
’
That hath k e p t watch o e r ma n s mor tal i ty ;
A n othe r race hath bee n an d othe r palms a re won
Thanks to the human hear t by wh i ch we l i ve
Tha nks to i ts te n de rn ess i ts j oys a n d fears
To me the mean est flowe r that bl ows can gi ve
T hough ts that do ofte n lie too dee p for tea rs
.
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w WOR DS WOR T H
( 1 7 70 1 850)
-
.
ON TH E EX T I NCT IO N O F TH E V E N E T IAN
R E PUBLI C
O N CE d i d she hold the gorgeous East in fee ;
A n d was th e safegua rd of the West : the worth
O f V e ni ce d i d n ot fal l be l ow he r birth
V e ni ce the eldest Ch ild of Li be r ty
S he was a mai de n c i ty b ri gh t an d fre e
NO gu il e seduced n o force cou l d v i olate ;
An d whe n sh e took un to he rse l f a mate
S he must es p o use the eve rlas t in g S ea
An d what i f she had see n th ose gl o ri es fad e
Th ose t i tles va ni sh an d that st re n gth decay
Yet shall some t rib ute of regret be pai d
“ he n he r l on g l i fe hath reac h d i ts fi n al day :
Me n a re we a n d m ust gri eve whe n eve n the shade
’
O f that wh i ch o n ce was great i s pass d away
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W WOR DSWOR T H
.
S UG G ES TI O N S F O R F URT H E R R EAD I N G
T H E su bject of p oet r y h as b ee n
’
o f b ook s fr om A ri s t ot l e s Poeti cs
th e th eme of a vast a r ray
’
a n d H o race s A r t of Poetry
to th e Oxfor d Lectu r es on Poetry by M r A C Brad l ey
Bu t a stude n t w i ll fi n d al most a ll th at he n e eds of st im u
”
l us to thought i n th e maste r l y ar ti c l e o n Poetry in th e
“
Two a rti c l es o n Th e So n n e t
E n cyclopwd ia Bri tan n ic a
’
o n e i n Ch um bera s E n cycloped ia a n d th e othe r i n the
E n cyclopwd ia Bri tan n ica b y th e w ri te r of the a r ti c l e o n
“
I t will be
P oet ry ad e quate ly d i scuss that po e ti c fo r m
most profitab l e fo r a stude n t wh o has maste red th ese th r ee
ar ti cl es to s pe n d the r est of h is tim e at the feet of th e
M u ses study in g th e pri n cip l es i n ca rn ate in the fo rm s of
p oetr y
A n thol ogi es te n d to tak e col ou r fr om th e ir com pi l e rs ;
b ut of c o u rse they ha v e t h e qual i t i es of th ei r defe cts The
be st mode rn a n th o l o gy of E n gl i sh v e rse i s Th e Oxfor d Book
h
of E n lish Ver se b y A T
a
t
o
n
u
i
ll
e
r
ouch
Ch
ea
p
e
r
C
Q
g
l ogi es are th e Gold en Tr easu ry of th e Best Son gs an d Lyri ca l
Poem s i n th e E n glish Lan gua ge se l ected a n d arran ged w i th
n otes b y F T Pal grave—fi rst an d seco n d se ri es Th e
“
”
seco n d se ri es wh i l e i t in c l ud e s some good ve rse m ust
n ot be tak e n too se ri ously as a j ud i ci ous com pi l ati o n
S on n ets of this Cen tu ry w i th a c ri t i ca l in t r odu c ti o n o n
the S o n n et b y Wi ll i am S ha rp giv es a good su rvey of th e
h i stor y of th e S o n n et in E n gl an d from M i l to n dow n to
the pr ese n t day
.
.
.
.
”
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”
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Printe d
B ALLANTYNE H A NSO N
E d n b u rg h 6 Lo nd o n
by
,
i
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r rz
*
69 C o
.
’
TH E P EO PLE S BOOKS
P H I L O S OP H Y
2
30
.
3r
.
‘ 2
3
.
33
.
34
s Phil osophy
T h e T e a c hin g of P la t o
Bu ddhi sm
R oma n C at h ol i c i sm
Th e O x fo r d M o v e m e n t
T m i l ’‘
h " L ‘gb t °f
.
.
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ar d in a l
.
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rowt h o f F r e e d om
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38
.
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39
.
40
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42
.
43
.
44
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46
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of G o v e rnm e nt t o d ay
4 9 A n i n t ro d u ct i o n t o E c o n omi c S c i e nc e By H O M r di t h M A
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A D i c t i o n a ry of S y n o n yms
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a E c J A C K 6 7 L O NG AC R E w c
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A N D E DI N B U RG H
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By A D Li d ay I LA
By A D Lind say M A
By Prof T W R h ys D avids M A
By H 8 c o on P m M 5"
R H B nson
By Wi l frid P Ward
By t h Re v Prin i pal W F Ad n y
M A D D
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2 9.
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A N D R E L I G IO N
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