(1912) The Fags And Other Poems

LIBRARY UNIVERSIT RiVEJ&lDt

The Fags And Other Poems

THE FAGS AND OTHER POEMS

BY

WILLIAM MOORE

LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & BROADWAY HOUSE, CARTER LANE, 1912

E.C.

CO. LIP

The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved

Printed by

Ballantynr, Hanson

<5f

Co.

At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh

Contents PACK

Uppermost Thames Todi

I

10

.

Lost

15

Ever Green

21

Oxford, by Turner

26

Paschal Sunshine

33

Aconites and Snowdrops

4i

The Fags

45

Mystery

59

The Avenger

67

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK The Witch Spell-bound

77

The Elephant

98

An Indian Sunrise The

100

Spoils of India

102

v

!

Uppermost Thames The

best

is last.

What mystery

Dropped down on rosy

curls of

creeps

sky

O'er elmy vale and forest steeps,

Eve's quickly-woven mystery

And Is

yet within the glowing rim

naught but earth's green homely things

Naught but the wooded headland dim Each beyond each

Each lends

to

its

outline flings

of its airy

Yet throws on darker walls

own

:

some more verdant scene

The background

Its

:

gloom

;

of green

clear crests of lighter plume.

;]

;

;

UPPERMOST THAMES There clinging ever to the knolls

Green Tamise threads his weedy bed

Or where

;

his deeper current rolls

His nuphar plunges her yellow head.

And

yet where

all his

pastimes are

No glimmers

in the

shade reveal

His pollards only herald far

Where'er his baby streamlet

Nor

voice hath he

That

He

the weirs are gone

entrapped his hurrying

feet

babbles now, unheard, alone,

To

No

erst

;

steals.

loosestrife

voice

;

and to meadowsweet.

save here, for this high lane

;

(This lane that sights with sweet briar hung,

On

rarer eves, across the plain

Those coral

hills

from whence he sprung). 2

:

;

UPPERMOST THAMES Save here, yon cascade's ceaseless roar Late raised by man's repressing hand

Yet that makes deeper than before This

stillness of the

So deep

to deep

is

unanswering land.

calling not

And, hence to where yon sunset flames, Discords and din are

all

forgot

In these sweet verdures of the Thames

And

only where his solitude

Is level in the

western gold,

Upspringing from

To

No

tell

of

man

castle grey

Yon And

;

its

ambient wood

one spire

no byre

;

is

bold.

no grange

very watergates that part

lift

Seem

the boats to higher range gates to gardens of the heart

3

!

:

UPPERMOST THAMES Gardens where any breeze that

glittering stream,

Born sudden on the Goes but to bend the

stirs

still

Of reed and rush to

parterres

fitful

gleam

Or arrowhead and flotsam weed Yet never palm was

As

is

;

half so fair

the plumed and towering reed

That waves

So,

;

in purple glory there.

onward as the

Ever a

swift keel brushes,

glittering wavelet curls

Betwixt the sombre fringe of rushes

Or comfrey

tassels, pale as pearls.

— UPPERMOST THAMES Those

flags are

never out of date

The buoyant fronds

for ever

;

swim

'Tis art, 'tis science, years belate

And

To

The It

A

stain,

no

shriek,

eye, the ear, fills

!

it

no smoke, no

does not pain

flare,

;

the heart with no despair.

castle rising

from

Sad symbol

of the things that die

its

bowers

?

;

cenotaph of feudal powers,

Of passion,

A

stream of Lethe dim

catch from out the green campaign

No

A

in the

love,

grange, a byre

?

and loyalty

!

They would but say

They burst no more with harvest Their throng of beeves

is

far

gold,

away,

Their hundreds bleat not on the wold. 5

;

UPPERMOST THAMES A

cottage roof with azure wreathed

What

if

the wolf

is

at the door

?

!

For history yet has hardly breathed

Some

secrets of the hireling poor.

The common wood The Not

fuel for that

for his

Down

Of

own he

And

others'

he

now,

very hearth

!

guides the plough

furrows of once

village green

'Tis

is

is

common

earth.

bereft

gone to swell manorial land

e'en his homestead

When

feebler

grows

must be

his

:

left

horny hand.

'Twas sweet to dream yon waves had passed Walls where long dwelt a noble race

Whose

scions' living deeds

On them

now

a visionary grace 6

:

cast

—

;

UPPERMOST THAMES That peace and plenty multiplied Are somewhere whence yon waters wend

As

erst

when

To be

the rural toiler's friend.

Vain dream

!

The moral But

court and convent vied

stay,

Yon

forest

doth not hide

glories of past years.

some best things there abide

There gather from that sight no

'Tis Nature's

Her

No

tears.

sweet and constant look

smile, that always

is

the same

student pales of her sweet book

And

all

;

:

:

complaints to her are shame.

She spread no other scene than now Before the Druid's tranced gaze

:

The oaks were on the mystic brow, Above the wizard waterways. 7

UPPERMOST THAMES She cannot change without alloy She cannot aught

Who

improve

can reform unmixed joy

Who mend

See

of hers

how

Grow

;

:

?

the glances of true love

the elms, far line on

?

line,

duskier in their topmost caves

As darker

:

flows the hyaline

In dimples deep of sunset waves.

This marriage of the light and dark

For waiting hearts Their child

By

is

shall bring to birth

holy awe

angel hand

still

;

;

a spark

struck on earth.

E'en songsters of the darting wings

To

leafy cradles all

For hands unseen

To music

have flown

shall

;

touch some strings

sweeter than their own. 8

UPPERMOST THAMES The

cataract's dull instrument,

Ringing along the listening floods

A

curfew for the firmament,

For

all

Yet rosy

the harps of heaven preludes.

fires still

And round

They

all

:

the setting August sun

The clouds that Are

burn above

pile

and part and move

of fire-born purple spun.

are the wings of Seraphim,

Veiling e'en

now

their eyes

Darkling and darkened

The mystery

of the

;

and

ere they

Mercy

Seat.

feet,

hymn

Todi Is

it

an Arab faring to the

Whose snow-white

east,

caftan on the winds

is

cast

That brown and bronzed countenance Is fiercer for the radiance

In dazzling sheets of splendour shed,

On

O how

coverings of the giant head.

they sparkle, yon eternal

firns,

Which summer noontide unconsuming burns So

!

in old Sinai's wilderness

The

acacia burning grew no

Have

less.

those pure plains that never melt

Touch from beyond the sun-flame

Snow bosoms born

What hand

of all that fluent

felt

?

is,

keeps chaste your virgin purities 10

?

?

TODI Ye guard

the Past in vestal whitenesses,

Of many an aeon

Long

silent witnesses

;

ere to snow-fed waters pale

Man, shrinking from each haunted

vale,

Cast on the bosom of the lake,

Drove

in the piles a

home

to

make.

Bright then as now, beneath a midnight moon,

Or proof

to

all

the glances of high noon,

Down

ever from your terraced edges

Upon

the lower slanting ledges

Just so your shadows ye did throw,

Sweeping each

As now your

brilliance

silver dials

While shrinks the

And

mark

glacier,

But yesterday man's

below

;

the hours,

and the cataract pours.

foot has dared to scale,

fetch of your magnificence the tale.

He saw

ye,

The ancient

but ye never told secrets that ye hold

How rumours Of hosts

:

reached you from the north

for battle

pouring forth

ii

;

:

TODI From

Constance, cry of souls by schism rent,

Stilled

by the Dove

of peace in council sent

;

Fair Constance, o'er whose gleaming sea

Man Yet

flies in

is

self-made majesty

his flight

;

weak Sufferings

Beside your eagles' God-made wings

Ah

!

All

heaven-made bonds

But

maybe

east

Save

for

!

yet ye have not seen the worst, in wild rebellion burst.

and west the giant fronts are

some

A Titan,

little flake

combatant

Flinging aside

bare,

just clinging there. of the skies,

all fripperies.

See crouching ever at his base

The But

fallen masses, fringed, like lace

;

lace not reft of crystals that encrust,

They

shine for ever on the mountain dust

And, springing from those barren gleams, In cascade on to cascade, streams 12

:

TOD1 Rush down

Some

And on

the rock-strewn slope to meet

climbers, foretaste of the sweet,

the lower precipices spread

Streak mazes of bright green with silver thread.

For

they climb the steep

see,

And

;

the alpenrose

stunted pine, each earthward clinging close,

Leaving their forest far behind,

Up

to the places of the

And The At

last,

And,

lit

they have first,

won on

wind

;

that high

best, greetings of the

advancing

tall,

way

spray

their brethren

come

;

with golden gleams amidst their gloom,

The becks Till,

steal ever

tinkling bells

They

downward

flung

and flowers among,

are fountains for each blade to drink,

Each nectared sweet upon the

brink.

Rich plenty issues from the mountain's wrong,

As honied sweetness from the 13

lifeless strong.

;

;

TODI O

God,

Who

madest Thine unchanging snows

To crown Thy crumbling While man,

bergs in sure repose,

his aeon, still

is

here,

Ere things which are not do appear,

He hath Thy 'Tis writ

Some snows

To turn

parable to learn.

upon the

eternal firn.

there are that need

to milk for

in

showers

man, and make the flowers

But others Thou hast

Than

must melt

fixed higher

the sweet slopes of earth's desire

Unheard by them the cataracts throw Fans foaming into spray below Their joy

is

They live

for

Thine

Thee

in sun-bright firmaments,

in passionless contents.

*4

;

Lost O

hall wherein our Scholars gave

The

allegiance to a great conclave

With

all

Tis best

;

thy portraits of the wise, of all

my memories

That he and

I

were

friends.

garden where they do not rove

As Plato Spring

in the plane-tree grove

made thy mount a mist

;

of green

;

Dear even then thou hadst not been Save that we two were

friends.

court with thy great oval sward

And

battlemented walls that heard

And echoed

youth's loud

So often to the azure

railleries

skies

;

Thou knew'st we two were 15

friends.

;

LOST dusk West Window of the Fane,

A

master hand has burnt thy pane

Not

least

was

this

among thy

One morn beneath thy angel I first

O

days when

Rushed

did see

all

my

;

graces

;

faces

friend.

the galley slaves

to their contest

on the waves

!

Methinks ye saw not him among

That

flannelled

And

yet

and gay-vested throng I

was

his friend.

O summer with drawn

lines of

white

For dexterous deed and lightning sight

Be

sure thy green arenas

Him

never, standing e'en to view

And Men

yet he

was

my

;

friend.

shivered in the icy spring

Nude

To

knew

o'er the wattled heights to fling

the white tape, their cynosure.

He was

not ever there, be sure

Yet he and

I

16

were

;

friends.

:

LOST A

fiery joy

It did not

was

seem

in his looks

to

;

come from books

We

asked him of his mystery

He

called the thing Philosophy

And It

was not that which

numb

Leaves It

my

yet he was

;

;

friend.

stuffs the head,

the heart, the conscience dead

was a genial influence

At once we saw

it

So he and

I

;

in his glance

were

:

friends.

He seemed upon some summit peak

We in

:

the vale, to climb yet

weak

;

;

Nor recking when would come the time

We needs must

turn

Yet he and

I

;

or else

were

friends.

As on the flower-sweet Alpine

The

far-seen

must climb.

leas

summits only please

Grandly the leaden glacier bends

But

lo

!

:

!

the primrose pathway ends

Thank God

that

17

we were

!

friends.

B

;

;

:

:

LOST To him, born moral mountaineer,

To

tread the moral snows was dear

To

go,

;

where ancient axes stole

To some

fine passes of the soul.

Thank God But never touch

we were

that

friends.

was shown

of pride

For tracks by him so early hewn.

me

His converse ever was to In

all love's

frank simplicity

So he and

The climb

at last

Come from

I

were

friends.

Soon

!

;

cries

around

the ethical profound.

Faith breathes not in the thin-spun air

And

speculation hints despair.

But he and

Man

lessens

I

were friends.

on the granite wall

The berg grows, with

its

The mountain, magnet

Has wrapt him

thunders,

of his will,

there, as

But he and

I

were 18

if

to kill

friends.

all

:

;

LOST But as that climber's head holds pledge Of conquering on the very edge So

:

he, the soul's reality,

E'en when doubt's avalanche swept by

So he and

Ah

!

were

I

friends.

golden were those four short years

Golden, for

What never

prize long sought

courted was, they brought

For he and

With outward

were

I

stress

friends.

and inward

teen,

would not the converse had been.

Young Fancy's The

prize

Ah

!

wild extravagance

enhanced

The

;

fate that

son of Greece

Thou wert not

far

!

could not enhance

we were ah

friends.

Stagirite,

from grace and

light

Then, when thy sapient pencil drew

The

lines of real friendship, true

As

I

;

all their final tears.

They snatched away the

I

:

and he were 19

friends.

LOST Ah

lost Catulle

!

(if

lost

thou

art),

thing there was thou hadst, a heart.

One

The sunny lands went dark and

lorn

Which saw thy brother from thee torn As soon from me, that

Academe

friend.

He

left his faithless

He

did a work

He

died by very zeal consumed

But

still

;

;

he would not dream

by that same

As when we

light illumed

first

20

;

were

friends.

:

;

Ever Green Rosebay and

loosestrife

Where now only the

On

were red in the river

glassy waters are

:

a firmament green beneath poplars' quiver

Each blossom had dropped a

fixed star.

In the hush of the evening no more they redden,

For

'tis

an eve

of late

October now

Light leaves that danced are

Though green and

And blooming

What The

now

all

leaden,

glassy the waters go.

reeds of the glorious weather,

are they now, the purple plumes

?

bloodless bents yonder, rustling together.

Yet

fresh

and green the 21

river comes.

;

EVER GREEN Like a holy passion the river sweeps Patient and strong with

Though no

From

unmurmuring

flowers flush on

yellowing

isles

its coiling

and withered

Shock and stunted heads

of pollards

tide,

deep

side.

drooping

In the gathering gloom black mourners seem

One with head As

erect,

;

one lowlier stooping,

to mingle tears with the silent stream.

In bays where late the pulse of a rower

Sent a wave where the silvered

Not a frond

And

is left,

lilies

shone

not a blade in their bower,

e'en the comfrey lances are gone.

Only the green smooth stems deflowered Of the bulrushes trembling and darkling move In the deeper throb of the stream, to and froward

One

points a taper finger above

22

;

;

;

EVER GREEN Above, where one planet globe

On

swimming

the fathomless gulfs of heaven into sight

But no

blight,

no sere autumn

That sun-flushed flower

Where the grey and

is

dimming

of light,

the dark are stealing

morn

O'er the paling azures of Till

is

Night, for the stars revealing,

All light-woven veils shall

have

torn.

Yes, frost has quenched the star of the

And

the margin's purple and golden flame

But downward,

The stream

Down

lily,

stately

for ever

into mist

and strong and

stilly,

moves on the same

:

and darkness wending,

Mist ever thickening reach on reach,

While the poplars whisper farewell never-ending In multitudinous tongueless speech 23

:

:

;

EVER GREEN Green and clear from strain

To

increase

of the sluices

beyond the mystic

hill

While the murmurs massed of those myriad voices

As a triumph song

But quick Ere

On

fade,

it

yonder western glory,

the twilit stream read

!

it

Life,

with

And

its

of

summer

are

autumn hung.

and

fruits

among

drawn by God's own

in the vale

calls it to

or

strong but silent surges,

Life's flowers

its lines

Deep

its flow.

mirrors more than the tangled marges

No more

And

passionate story,

its

the symbol secret of

With no wreaths Tis

fill.

fade from the sky, yonder golden glow,

it

Read

Lo

ere

!

the silence

all

He

come.

has

made

its

!

finger

bed

Then why should

;

it

linger

In stagnant pools where the rosebay has fled

24

?

;

EVER GREEN Tis naught to the Water's whelming

forces

That the buds and blooms of Earth are

frail.

'Twixt the goal and the high mist-wreathen sources,

God

O my

wills it so,

soul, of

they shall not

yore

God

From His dew-fed

He

will

lead

thee

fail.

led thee welling

natal urns divine

where

still,

streams

will

be

swelling,

Streams darting in with new

Thine when

From Out

the

full soon, full

forces, thine.

quick

it

passes

wooded glooms and the weedy

bars,

again, far away, 'twixt midnight grasses,

Beneath the canopy of His

stars.

There no fold of thine, no truant meander,

But

is

watched by shining heavenly

Till at last

by

All in the

their leading

glow of a glad 25

eyes,

thy goings are grander, sunrise.

Oxford, Rays from

Wash And

by

Turner

far fonts of light

spires

and

castle white,

thereby dimmer gloom the cloistral woods

The splendour

of the air

Makes shadowy by compare

The

lapsing gleam of circumambient floods.

Methinks that there no If

thou shouldst enter

Could be, nor what

Thou wouldst With joyous

sin,

in,

defiles, or

makes a

lie.

in every street,

salute greet

Intelligences rare,

and angels passing by. 26

:

;

OXFORD, BY TURNER For yon very rainbow seems

Hung To

o'er

a city of dreams

as once

tell,

upon the saved

From

the bright firmament

Upon

a remnant bent,

That

all

shone,

the cleansing of the storm

There, heaven's

On

it

own

is

flashes roll

bastions of the soul

Here, glow the golden glories of the

They grasp

great shocks of corn,

And

hands

The

done.

still

in

sickle flames

;

of

soil

horn

to speed the interrupted

toil.

Behold twain students, gowned

As guests from heavenly ground

To

this high field,

beneath the hedgerow mints,

In shadowed coolness come

From yonder haloed home. Rich over

all

beside the noontide splendour glints.

27

OXFORD, BY TURNER One

brings a book

;

he

spells,

Maybe, from Truth's deep wells

Some golden maxim

lettered

on those leaves

;

While these with happy smile

Do

only bind and pile

Big with their milky gold the inarticulate sheaves.

How

spilt

A fire

from Beauty's urns

creeps on

and burns

In every colour on the canvas flung

!

But where her inner spark Amidst the That

Is

is

it

light

and dark,

her very core, her tangent traits

among

?

in the arched glow,

Her many-tinted bow With her own contours carved from base

To

toilers 'neath

To

toilers in these

Whispering of

to cope

yon towers, bowers,

peril past

and endless hope 82

?

;

OXFORD, BY TURNER Or

is it

where they fold

The sheaves

in

bonds of gold,

Imperishably lingering o'er the hand

ways

That works

in ancient

Of Saturn's

artless days,

Fetching large measure from a teeming land

Or, rather, does

it

glance

Where, white as innocence,

Dome,

castle, spire, in dazzling cluster smile,

Hewn

copies from the skies

Where

all

but Goodness

dies,

Sweet as the very soul of Plato to beguile

Blame not

From

all

his

eye

things hard, and spurned

To be slave-mimic

Who

of a fallen

searched for any

To crowd

On

who turned

earth's

world

;

gem

diadem

wings of exploration never furled.

29

?

?

— OXFORD, BY TURNER Truth Its

Each

is

on

all this

scene

;

moment, each has been gloss,

each gloom, each

;

figure,

and each form.

Seen from the very spot (Yet by eyes anointed not),

So lay the City once, so passed the storm.

But

last

And saw

a Seer came, it all

aflame

In August's shifting gloom and radiance

As we

in a hearth

;

aglow

See faces flash below,

He

looked and saw

Wonders

Who Ah

!

of light

outlines form

is

and

glance.

he saw.

shall Divine Light

wait awhile,

Fair

new

till

draw

scarce

?

two decades end.

yon amethyst

Rising from massive mist

But from the mists

of

;

doubt a 30

fairer

Bow shall bend

!

:

OXFORD, BY TURNER For one soon walked among

Yon

Who

City's student throng,

saw the

The

holier Past as in a fire

:

the mean, the sloven,

false,

The webs by unfaith woven, Died

in the chastening

glow

of his desire.

Long had been Reason's day

Men went

her glaring

way

:

:

Stopped where she bade them stop

;

and that was

death.

Her

cold light filled the halls,

And

e'en the sanctuary walls

Echoed her vaunts, her mockery

Or,

if

of faith.

to the Light Revealed

Not every eye was

How faint the hand How slow

sealed,

to clasp the

Hand from Heaven

the heart to don

In adoration

The

dress of rapturous joy for Deity Given

31

!

OXFORD, BY TURNER He, with pen dipped in dyes

Of past

realities,

Spell-binding Sadducee and atheist,

Was

limning stroke by stroke,

Until

The

it

breathed and spoke,

perfect picture of the Bride of Christ.

32

Paschal Sunshine Heaven's wine

The

is

;

the breezes stir

rosin dropping from the

With the poured

We

poured

*vine

drink that cup,

Though

is

fir

mingling myrrh.

Nature's boon

'tis

soul of ours need not to

:

swoon

In any anguish coming soon.

But there

One who came

is

to die

Then, when the fateful noon was high O'er the steep

They poured

their

They, the rude

He

willed

it

Calvary.

hill of

drug

Roman

not

;

He

for lethargy

soldiery.

put

33

:

it

by.

c

;

;

PASCHAL SUNSHINE The hour

of surcease

was not yet

Though then His brow with blood was Could

He

the price for Sin forget

wet.

?

Here gentle breezes are at play

With

all

the silky catkins grey,

This evening of His Paschal day.

On Palmday

they were wearing them,

As branches from that

They

rifled

They

likelier

fairer

stem

near Jerusalem.

symbol the

olives grey

That, glooming o'er another way,

Glanced

Ah

!

in the

moon, breeze

sinner, darest

thou look within

Drug yet again that ache

Nor

let

the

stirred as they.

of pain

Deed on Calvary win 34

;

!

?

;

:

PASCHAL SUNSHINE Thy

grace thou hast for pottage sold,

Let go

all else

And now thou

O

to clutch the gold,

hast

it

in

thy hold.

the sweet glitter of the ore

Thy heaven

No

there

!

Thou must adore

other raptures any more

Faith, hope,

The

is

But no warm

like

art.

wreaths of vain regret

O'er them decorously are

Each

!

and the heart

Thyself their sepulchre thou

tinsel

!

and charity depart

cross, the anchor,

Some

!

tears

set.

have made them wet.

some hard metallic wreath

That cankers on the mounds

of death.

Better the flowers, that once had breath

35

!

'

PASCHAL SUNSHINE Vain

lip regrets

Then

And

fat as

The Dove

!

brawn the heart

flown

is

grown

;

;

Avarice comes and claims her own.

Yet that old name no longer

Under new phrases now

it

irks

:

lurks,

more surely works.

And

gaily dressed

"

increase alway

To

is

law of earth

is

;

" 'Tis honest pride to die more worth

Than niggard

fortune gave at birth."

So from a Scribe

When bound Weak

his greed

was hid

with holy texts he bid

Pontius do the deed he did

And with

;

a scorn oblique they stood

And mocked Him on To-morrow

is

that

the blood-stained wood.

Day 36

of blood.

;

PASCHAL SUNSHINE

The spruces

scatter pure incense

The

zenith azure

Yon

bird's song has joy's

Yet

He who

Who hung

is

intense.

vehemence.

guards that bird from harm,

yon

blue,

Who

drops the balm,

Can even He man's unrest calm

Not,

till

man

Men

them

?

feel the tragic guilt

For which the Holy Blood was Pierce

:

as

spilt

sword plunged to the

hilt.

read the tale of modern crimes

To

vespers from the Sabbath primes

It

the blessed Sabbath times.

fills

;

They

thirst to see,

Some

barings of the world's wild heart

The Sin that

stings

by

;

scribe's deft art,

the

37

wounds that smart.

:

PASCHAL SUNSHINE Foul

is

that tale of things that are

Pitiless the questions at the

Are they from Calvary so

is all

The cap

doom

That voice

But

is it

far

is

on

just ending

:

:

?

hushed to hear

The forum of

bar

;

:

'tis clear,

hope and

then quite ended

fear.

all

When

that unpardonable thrall

From

prison goes and judgment hall

No

now

mortal plea can

Yet eyes that death

May

O

?

avail

shall instant veil

find one plea that shall not

miracle that waits for faith

fail.

:

Faith conquering ere the latest breath.

Twas wrought

for

aye by Jesus' death.

38

— PASCHAL SUNSHINE The sands

of life

were

falling fast,

Yet dying eyes on Jesus cast Reversal found of

For hark

He

is

A

!

all

their past.

divine voice reprieves.

no more among the thieves

But among

saints,

and glorious

;

leaves,

God's leaves, where sweeter breezes play

Than Its

this that

moves on

this

sweet day

emerald on each tufted spray.

The sunbeam

With

slanting on this ground

resinous needles deep

embrowned

In noonday darkness once was drowned.

Then did the bird that soaring sung,

As yonder

lark in azure hung,

Cowered darkling

olive leaves

39

among.

PASCHAL SUNSHINE To-morrow

skies will not be

dim

:

In ether buoyed the lark will swim

And pour

There

as

now

shall not

her joyous hymn.

be a frowning heaven

O'er cursed Tree and nails there driven

No

rocks

Save

For

No

of

all

by earth-shock

some

soul's

shall

be riven.

obduracy,

to-morrow noon

shall see,

rending of the rocks shall be.

But wrung by that same bleeding token Of God's great mercy,

shall

be spoken

Confession true of one heart broken.

40

:

;

;

Aconites and White and

Snowdrops

pale gold,

Threading the blank dark border

As

stars

on purple night, on purple mould

All scattered broad,

Sweetly they

The

;

and yet

heavenly order.

in

fill

plots with

Voices are heard

random

cluster

among them

Between rude snatches

;

small and

still,

of the wind's wild bluster.

Three weeks are past

And now

the crocus' splendour

Shoots sunward up to face the icy blast

But thou wert braver

yet,

4i

thou floweret tender.

ACONITES AND SNOWDROPS Thou, Aconite,

And

When

thine, in wilder weather, all

the East had sharpest teeth to bite,

Dared through the frozen

Ere the

drifts to

walk together.

New Year

In storm and sleet had broken,

Blond heads and green smooth

fingers did appear,

Of coming greeneries bold tiny token.

Did Arctic dawns, Gilding far crystal verges,

Teach thee

this

durance on the frozen lawns,

Paint thee this yellow amongst the berg-vexed surges

Lo

!

?

with thy band

Full soon were walking others

They

too,

men

say, are

'Tis sure, thyself,

;

from a stranger land.

thou hailedst them as brothers. 42

;

!

ACONITES AND SNOWDROPS Each hangs a

bell

In pensive airy lightness

;

Branches wind-swept above

But

still,

may sway and

those blue-green blades, and

swell,

still,

that

whiteness.

They For

fairer all

grow

the Winter rages

They droop

in sleep their

;

heads upon the snow

Soft has that pillow been for countless ages.

Snowbound

of yore,

So looked a white flower closing Pure petals in a crimson sunset

Meek

What

frore,

for the long semestral night reposing.

mysteries

Beneath white

lids

and lashes

Of silver-sparkling pureness

in those eyes

In those green orbs what primal 43

!

memory

flashes

;

ACONITES AND SNOWDROPS Memory

of

law

In Eocene splendour given

To

this frail plasm,

Kept through

but kept without a flaw

all

Glacial

;

gloom the Word

of

heaven.

Man,

On

too, well learnt

Sinai God's revealing,

In thunder on his heart, and lightning burnt

Yet doubt's cold

blast thence faith

and awe are

stealing.

To know no That

is

sin,

your fame, sweet flowers

Your beauty,

this, tho'

ye nor

toil

;

nor spin

:

This ye in the wrack with spell aeonian dowers.

Ye

shall

gleam on

For aye, the white, the golden, In the

fierce

brume, though

tillages

be done

Of Man, by angel eyes alone beholden. 44

The Fags As

lisps

The

through purple-parted

lips

a

eternal secrets of the parent sea

So through

From

its

shell

;

olden consecrated ore

olden towers doth oft a sabbath bell of that mystic

Sound something

Which gave

these to us

;

Mother Age

so the choir boy's notes,

Ringing from sculptured fans and rainbow panes, Tell midst its treasures

something of

its soul.

Well pleased we catch the chime, the long-drawn strain,

And

gaze on moulded beauties of the stone

But thankless yet

:

so little

:

do we reck

Of Faith's far buoyant ocean whence they come. Sweet distant echoes of the Past are they

What,

Not

if

we saw

itself

and heard

dressed, as in these

it

speak

!

?

modern mimicries, 45

THE FAGS For one short day, not speaking as by rote

A

well-conned task, but in reality

Of daily thought, and daily circumstance.

Here

is

the record of two children's talk,

As once they talked (O well-remembered words). If

quaint

And

it

seem to utter

childishness,

coarse withal (in light of luxuries

And modern easement Yet smacks

it

of the schoolboy's day),

of great Sparta

;

and

'tis

true

;

True, though e'en then Victoria had sat

For more than twenty glorious years her throne.

They wandered up With

chill

the chalky causeway strewn

November's browning beechen

leaves.

Above

these two the Hill's unfurrowed slope,

Whose

ancient sod no scythe had ever shorn,

Rose a green bosom into mist which hid Its

mighty ditch and sombre crown

Where now

their

mates,

of pines

by that charmed

restrained,

Wandered awhile

in so-called liberty.

46

:

ring

THE FAGS Nurslings would be of a far-distant

Age

They went, white banded, gowned,

on that

as

path

Four hundred years agone

their forbears went,

Just torn from tender ministries of home,

For these rough ministries so new, so

old,

Speaking a tongue their mothers never knew, Mostly camp-Latin living on the

Of peasants and familiar

Or

hall of

in the

;

Cumbered

strange its

no

;

human

W.

What

Prefect let

Prefect of Hall I've not to go

T.

Why,

Socius,

hand

;

birds

:

article definite

English even

Not larded much with

T.

grange

baron when the Founder caged

In college walls his seventy Laconic

lips

what they spoke,

:

their Latin, here

you go

off hills

what's

writ.

to-day

and precious glad

up there

is

I

?

am

to gather sticks.

the

matter with your

?

W. They gave me what they call tin-gloves last night. 47

;

;

THE FAGS T. Tin-gloves

;

it all

what's that

;

But every day

W.

Better I

had

there's

know what

it

something more to learn.

means than what

Just before toy-time

was blazing up

it

;

Torr took a twig, and said

And made me

my

hold

He made

a cross with

And

my

The

hand

red-hot

it

fist

until

:

tin-gloves,

" to put

them on."

my hand,

what dropped from

had

ash,

was

upon

it

it is.

on

to put another faggot

held

thought I'd learnt

I

?

burnt

a

it,

he

cross,

thought

And

so

it

had

;

I'll

wear

it all

Well, have they ever given T. Of course

I

know

my

you "

those words

:

life.

toe

fit tie

the

(As in presenti, written by the monks) to fit ti

ut verto verti

W. Then you've not It fitted mine, I

felt

and

how

is

made.

well tie

fits

to toe.

tightly too, one night.

dreamt some thing was drawing 48

off

?

grammar

says

That

"

my

toe

;

THE FAGS Then woke

Awake

:

found junior next bed to

and looking about

too, sitting up,

And would have

me

him

licked

prank on

for a

But found the

toes of both of us were tied

With the same

string

And

;

they had us two in leash,

:

With gathered

others too.

me

reins they sat

Studying at tables by a merry blaze 'The ingenuous arts' which

many

Brutal to be,' with

still '

permitted them

a sportive tug

Varying their labours of the midnight

And

yet

wonder, mildest as you

I

They never

tried

it

at the first

Well, anyway, to-day

A

bibling

;

oil.

are,

on you.

you nearly got

would have known what that was

like.

Jack always wants to bible men

What

did you

tell

him

like

you.

?

Simply that

T.

Morning or night, no single moment

To

learn the stuff

;

'tis

Who's Candlekeeper

true

;

in Sixth

49

I

had,

left

for that big

man

Chamber wants d

THE FAGS His vulgus done always

You know, Then

;

he'll lick

of course, I durst not tell

after Chapel,

there

is

Prefects are always calling

To-day

I

had

:

that.

?

where's the time

like to use

?

:

on me.

only looked in vacancy, and said,

"Nay, but Croppled

the boy

hundred

lines

:

idle

is

Homer "

in

Homer's so hard

A

any peace ;

else

him

to twist the apple twigs

Those apple twigs he'd

He

me

:

;

six times

but he

let

me

now off.

and fancy every time,

by heart

for Junior Fifth,

Which means Third Form

at t'other schools

O

W. Are a thick at

that.

I

!

you

think the Odyssee

Fancy that pet ram

Is simply splendid.

Straddling out last with great Ulysses strapped

Tight to his stomach

And

;

never nailed what

When you know Next,

you

all

can't

and the Cyclops

made him walk

felt

so firm

the story, what must

help

Greek.

50

remembering

!

come

all

the

THE FAGS T.

Why

grammars always

are French

had one spliced

I

Because

W. That's

at

me

last

lying about ?

week by Dolt

cut his paper bands too late.

I

what they are

just

for

;

they are heavy

enough. Six hundred pages of defective verbs,

And no one

has to use them, although

Must have them It

must be nuts

and

;

to

T. Socius,

W. They say All

it

(if

at juniors,

to pieces, seven

who made

think

think

I

may)

Nutt and Angoville

To have them thrown

To come

I

all

and

and

all

bound

six apiece.

that Labyrinth on

hills ?

was a boy they kept back here

through the summer, but they don't say

why. Perhaps he could not say his standing up,

As you can't say your morning

And

cut

Why

it

here

;

if

lines

;

he came

he'd such liberty,

didn't he run straight

home

?

Perhaps

a don

Was

set to

watch him. 5i

Anyway he made

:

THE FAGS A maze And

and

:

A

a puzzle for

them

all

utter duffer he could not have been,

For he wrote

Who

left

Domum,

tho' he died

like

;

you

cannot learn by heart, and yet can write

Poor man, he saw

vulgus quick enough.

The summer bring the swallow Beside

the sparkling

to her

and

streams,

home in

white

clouds

The maybush blooming over watermeads

And

then the horses trotted out to draw

The waggons (coaches were not Of Richard).

And no one But

;

like

When

So he saw

left to

all

in the

College

days

off,

stop him bucking down.

a swan he sang before he died.

they came back they found him dying in

Seventh. T. Well, College then must have been very like

What

it is

now.

E'en now

I feel like

'Tis like a prison ever since I've

him

:

been

In course.

W.

Well,

is it

not just that which makes

52

;

THE FAGS Domum

so sweet for the juniors to sing

And perhaps Well I see

Men I

!

the Founder meant

they have got a

the

fire

life

guess he

him

men.

of

fags small

bonfire always,

Peel was to fight

!

would be on to-day.

knows Bigge

To make up

to be hard.

again in Trench

smoke above that mons

said that Doctor

;

for

commoners

and to-day

it.

There

is

he,

Just coming slowly on by Second Stile.

Why do

these Prefects never go

up

hills ?

Now

junior has called

Yes,

down they came, where once with

domum.

Here they come.

clarion

blast,

Their signs and eagles flashing in the van,

Red

tunicked, trim for march, the legion poured,

A moving

forest of pikes,

Not peacefuller In height of hat Potentialities

these, all

from that huge camp.

nor disciplined the

equal, child

and man

and powers were there 53

less

:

THE FAGS Who

or by force

With

souls of pirate o'er the junior throng.

Bee-like with

Amongst a

gown

fear, or favour, ruled

succinct (poor banded clerks

came down

truculent laity)

The gown-boys that

and

;

many

a small one quaked

day

Lest vengeance fallen on their champion Bigge

But

Might reach e'en them.

Upon

A

all

was order

fair

that spot, deep paved with oyster shells,

very Gabbatha of past delights,

Where Are

Prefects from far wanderings in the vale

and

gathered,

march

long-drawn

the

begins.

Ah

!

far

away

the peaceful

The

cloistral life,

And

yet on

A

stamp

is

all

without

Full soon.

home,

quiet here

placing which will serve

and be

still

;

Rough was 54

A

!

Of a most firm endurance suffer

its

of

!

the Mother, roughly kind,

In the world's currency

To

charm

:

germ

them well

it

was

teaching then

to dare, to

do

that teaching, as the milk

;

:

THE FAGS That suckled Romulus

Was Or,

in it

if

;

no doubt, no dream

;

but the practice of the Past

romance was on her olden

walls,

Within her high-roofed palaces and fanes,

To them

it

was

reality

themselves

;

Were the romance. There shone no Sabbath morn,

But

Up

to the Minster their long line

to the Altar steps

Of that

:

led

around the tomb

king his father's forest saw

fierce

Die by the bow's quick venture

Of Beaufort

was

:

:

nigh the throne

where the twice-crowned boy-

saint knelt

Perchance beside the gown-boys' very throng.

Each

slender

and upsoaring shaft above

Spreads out, like gracious palm-tree, to the groins

And many

a holy text

And many

a blazon bright of king and queen,

is

lettered there,

Their nursing fathers and their mothers, hung,

While they, the foster-children, 55

still

below

;;

THE FAGS solemn scene

Fill all the

With seraph

:

the anthems sweet

voices echoing

on high

Prolong the glorious Past.

Or The gates In their

eve.

are open for the compline hour

own

Beyond a

it is

chapel.

See,

two pass within,

lighted ambulatory,

Beneath the

Cloister's

carven cedarn gloom.

Some brass shines there in evening's dying gleam Some

ancient tint in the Chantry's orient glass

No more

:

yet from those walls incensed with

prayer

The

spirit

of

Ken

is

breathing

;

and those

stones,

As

close the wings almighty,

sound to them

His sweet nocturn.

The very That

iron grip

Which

upon them

discipline,

of that Past,

heaviest weighed on least and lowest

there,

56

:

!

THE FAGS Was wrought Which Nor

into a

bond

of brotherhood,

and scant

daily feud,

of courtesies,

after years, could break.

What makes Her anodynes and

a

man

?

forces Science finds

For the animal man

;

him up

she builds

;

she

sends

Light to his inmost bones

To

kill his

shades

'

Her

'

breathes while others

many now

:

they

flit

They hear

;

like

inert

this to that as Science holds or

theories

flit

?

Shades are the

From

mixes the drug

But can she make the man,

pain.

The man that

;

;

drops

or as mob-instinct moves.

they talk

;

they

will

not stop to

breathe

Shades of themselves who cannot

And when

for

feel or act

these fair Science shall have

trimmed 57

THE FAGS Her

perfect airship, never (as Icarus' wings)

To melt

storm

in sun, or fail in

;

and when

Her wheel on earth

in balance sure shall whirl,

Then

thereon

these shall

Or mean,

So

flit

;

— as conscienceless,

or sad, or loveless, as before

she, the Charon-witch, can waft or whirl

All to perdition, or to duller death

Wouldst more than can

The

this

;

:

no more.

than Knowledge that

numb

soul's true fibre

Faith

A

!

lives,

Go

?

and ancient

talisman yet

:

for "

to courts

discipline.

where

still

They hold

manners makyth man."

58

;

Mystery There

is

a day, there

Beneath the Spring

is

forest's raftered

deep

is

is

if

not the calm

and

levin

leaf or flower

when no warbler

Is

As

bolt

:

make

heard the

of the

may

all

wood

leafless vaults

among

awaits a seraph's song.

59

;

quake.

too earthly that prelude

When

;

but sylvan swoon and qualm

Then not a

'Tis

;

of glory comes.

stillness

The booming That

domes

not kissing Winter dour

A herald hush

There

an hour

is

;

MYSTERY The woodland Swept as

floors are clean

and

bare,

to feel a step divine.

Stars only are inwoven there

:

Windflowers and starry celandine.

And,

o'er that level sweetness, high

Ascending smooth and green and grey,

Ash columns

lift

And eastward

their canopy,

stretch their long array.

Afar their sudden ceasing makes

A window grand No

stain

is

there

Of cloudlets

all

:

for heaven's

own

blue.

but fleecy flakes of heaven's

own

hue.

There azures glow, not strained through

Which One who died ascending trod

And

airs within the

:

temple pass

Like whispers from the throne of God. 60

glass,

!

MYSTERY Athwart the

What

aisles

and

clouds of white

Are they the

feet of

alleys ;

dim

what

rustling feet

cherubim

Slow coming with their incense sweet

To some

doorway where a Spark

veiled

Behind an olive-carven screen

Burns ever

By

all

in a

golden dark,

but angel eyes unseen

?

O'er yon smooth silver stem are piled

Catkins to

O

for that

O

firelike

crimson turned.

bush upon the wild

that, like

it,

;

the birch-tree burned

;

That God might speak from out that flame, Bold now the shepherd's crook might make

By

all

the mystery of His

Name

Hearts on their easeful throne to shake 61

!

MYSTERY Else from the wild dare prophet go

To mansions

On

modern man,

daylong play and pleasure throw

And

O

of the

the smooth, smiling sin, His ban

?

God, Thy heathens had their dreams

Awake beneath

Thy Greek heard

the tamarind

voices on the streams

His syrinx piping in the wind

And Thy Saw

the dread stair first

:

art our

by angels thronged

for

which he longed.

Father more threefold

are the children of

Thy

choice

;

:

Where, then, for us Thy flames of old Where,

in

;

glimmers of the dawn,

The Voice above

We

;

dear pilgrim child forlorn

Heard, ere

Thou

;

Thy

lovely things,

62

Thy

;

Voice

?

;

:

;

MYSTERY Thy

green things spread the ancient mist

Yet

all

the woodlands

now

are

dumb

There's gloaming gold and amethyst

No

tidings

from Thy sunset come.

Thou knowest

;

'tis

'Tis Science that

And

by

sorcery.

has waved her wand

dulled the insight of our eye

Lest the heart too should understand.

We

listen to her

" So fair

Grand

well,

take and taste

secrets thus to be

Than

"

!

temptress tongue,

in

;

'tis

more

among

meek darkness

to adore.

These forest seas of freshest green

That dance and wave and soar and

Who

gives

them

We know

all their

emerald sheen

for sure, 'tis chlorophyl.

63

thrill,

?

MYSTERY "

That glory ere the sun be

set

ye think, to bless the day.

'Tis sent,

Tis better never

to forget

'Tis thirty million leagues

away."

So God's own breezes and His flames

Wherein we know His angels move

To cyphers turn and meagre names, So knowing quenches holy

O

love.

Witch, with stolen gems,

thou

fair

And

posing in Urania's robe,

Wilt ever

know what made

these stems

Wilt ever that dread star-dust probe

Sweep with thy

lens the starry floor

No key

!

;

There comes a door

of thine shall ever ope.

64

?

;

Yet mysteries end thy utmost scope Search the dim Past

;

;

MYSTERY Well dost thou measure, count, and weigh, Still

He

beating at the eternal bars.

Who

conquers,

He

was,

He

Peace, peace

Murmurs

!

went, beyond thy stars.

— All whispers of the wood,

of

Are fainting

did dare to say

dim and mighty range

for the interlude,

The moment

of

God's mystic change.

But when He comes He

will

not come

As once was feigned by heathen eyes

Who

saw naught

But limbs

flashing in the

Are nobler than a child

Mask

is

gloom

of fair humanities.

The winged ones men should

Great Pan

;

dead

fairer

;

now

of

see hereafter

man

leaves' green laughter

than the face of Pan. 65

E

MYSTERY And He comes sudden

Who The

vain their word

babble of His immanence

forest better

Tis hushed

O

;

knows

still

its

Lord

;

:

in a waiting trance.

for a saint's eye to discern

When

glory lights

Did the bush but

The torch

No

sage,

no

Not one Till

God

for

yon breathing arch

for

Moses burn

Abraham only march

scribe,

no bard, no seer

shall see, whoe'er

be, as to

Till he be, as

:

Abraham,

may dear.

was Moses, meek.

66

?

!

seek

;

;

The Avenger Thou conquerest,

Galilean,

still

;

Thee from lake and

genial shore Pharisee, Sadducee, Scribe, with

no pen of

theirs

has driven.

Can they rob wander Then,

let

it

o'er

of its pearly shells, of its airs that ?

them rob

of the Anointed,

it

and His

Words from heaven.

Busily pundits Teuton have toiled

:

whose

sires

when those Words were spoken Soaked

in

some northern marsh, or upon Scythian

steppes were chaced

67

;

!

THE AVENGER Blotting out, on the Words, of

Thy godhead

every

conscious token

They would

write o'er again the Life

;

what

of

yore Love adoring traced.

Cooped

in his lettered walls, in the

chambers

of his

imagery,

With

his

victim in his clutches, grasping the

Holy Writ, See the later modern

critic

!

See his unanointed

eye Shrivel

all

the record

once with glory

And

to

a myth, the record

lit

as vivisector stays each pulsing of

life's

warm

courses

In the veins of the living creature he would question, ere he

kill,

the sinews are anemic, and his knife pushed

Till

up to sources Of

life

bring back a triumph for him and his

skill

68

;!

:

;

THE AVENGER So he the Spirit quenches, and the primal fount is

binding

Every blood-drop writing

of

faith

or of love in

the

gone.

is

Then, forsooth, in these rhapsodies quaint, dim,

and torn

Thy

be finding

he'll

piece from piece

Life,

still

dividing,

bone

from bone

So dipping deep He'll write

that

in a

new philosophy

Thee down, or write

Thou

his salient

of Thee, all but

art.

Forsooth, some mild faith-healer went in

among men

And with

pen

Capernaum

;

the ethic ancient story feigned to touch

their heart.

And

so there

is

script for a

wicked world to mend

the old Evangels All the lingering doubts that haunted,

questioning

is

clenched 69

all

the

!

THE AVENGER No more and

the everlasting his angels

No more

prepared for the devil

;

worm

that

fire

that dieth not, the

that

fire

not quenched

is

" For

tell

us,"

are crying, " did ever son of

men

woman Utter so terrible words by Galilee's glistening strand Or,

?

so spoken' once, so stern, sure the lips were

if

but

human

That on

sin in the ruthless past

indelible

Then they its

brand

tell

has fixed the

" ?

But

what the people would have.

past gets no healing.

They make every Word

of

none

effect

;

as

word

of fairy.

They

forge

some monster

of

many

virtues

;

but

all

the revealing All the awe,

and the mystery melt from Thee,

thou Son of Mary

!

70

—

;;

THE AVENGER But hark

;

there

cease at last from this modern-

is

moral dreaming

;

Thine Avenger arises amidst the pedantic throng

And

;

the very Handwritings cut short their long

blaspheming

With

own weapon he

their

hand

shame

'tis

!

foils

them

;

in his

both sharp and strong.

Is

it

all,

their fine ethic

and research

apocalyptic

That, making of Thee

less e'en

than a prophet,

was so sweet Is it all,

— and not Thy Gospel

mangled, not Thou

they style the mystic,'

By

his pitiful

mocking

of the obsolete

Yes

!

to pass into

some limbo

!

unto proud Chorazin did a greater than

Solomon come, King

of each wavelet

on the tranced shore, each

breeze that blew.

71

;

THE AVENGER 'Twas the Anointed, Son of God, who spoke to Chorazin doom,

Whom

every

fin

that

swam

in

Galilee's

fiery

caldron knew.

The Son, whose

so

will,

was blending

will ever

Every wish, every

moment

And

He

for

Him

joy,

spoke, with a Father's

;

every word was each

:

Angels on the Son were then, and would be, descending

No

;

fear did ever shake that trust,

no doubt did

ever dim.

And He came, He was to die

;

He came new

No

ever saying, to suffer and

to

do a new Deed, not a Decalogue

to teach

Rabbi's

carpeted

room

for

Him

;

but

the

felon's calvary.

The time was too

short,

His people's wound too

deep, for painful speech.

72

;

;

:

THE AVENGER But that Anointed, He said (and the record hath the saying),

That murdered Son

Man

of

should soon come

amidst clouds in glory

For a

little while,

His

for

would be delaying

little flock,

;

But He kept the good wine end His

bliss to

King

their

to the last

;

and

story.

the

way

of scribbler

and

So Thou comest into Thine own again

;

that pointed

To Thee, O King, from rubbish scribe

And

is

clean

the blessed its

:

Kingdom

shall

come, when comes

Anointed

That was the goal flesh hast

Thou

of

Thy

heart

;

for that in the

been.

Thanks, then, for him

who from

the dust of strife

jewels divine did gather,

No more

fallen pearls

any swine

from a broken string for

to tread

73

;

THE AVENGER And on

the meaning of thy

of the

Did

O

the mercy

Father

set a light

may

Kingdom and

and

lustre,

whereby he that runs

read.

who deeper and

grant that he,

truer than

all

the critic crew

Fathomed

that which

and Thine eye was Deeper yet little

Till

may

ones

Thy

heart was choosing

seeing,

look into olden things that thy

knew

he hail thee himself Very God, very image

of thy Father's being.

74

—

—

Translated from the Greek i.

From Apollonius Rhodius The Witch Spell-bound,

Argonautics,

iii.

439-575* 616-827. 2.

From Nonnus The Elephant,

An

Dionysiacs, xxvi. 294-327.

Indian Sunrise, Dionysiacs, xxvii. 1-18.

The

Spoils

of

India,

239-274.

75

Dionysiacs,

xl.

; ;

The Witch Rough were

his

words

Spell-bound and Jason instant

:

And

with him Telamon and Augeas close

And

Argos, lingering only while he signed

To

his three brethren to

Then

rose,

;

remain behind.

as they strode from that barbaric hall

Seemed Aeson's son

And on

far goodliest of

him, through her bright

them

veil's

all

parted gauze,

Long did the maiden's sidelong glances pause

And

still

her thoughts, with anxious ardour

Following his

feet, like fluttering

So were those Four of

all

dreams, did

the palace

free.

Fearing her father's wrath Chalkiope

Quick to her chamber with her sons

Medea following

after, listless, lone.

77

lit,

is

gone,

flit.

—

;

:

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND Love whispering Kept

that had been, fixed before her eyes

all,

The mien he had,

How And

how

sat,

his

spoke,

how

waking dream

in her

how he

mantles

There breathed no other Still

sweet memories

in her heart

wore,

passed towards the door of ecstasy

like

him, sure was she.

as

honey sweet

his phrases fall

And now remembrance changes Lest him the bulls, or him her

And now

to alarm

sire,

should harm

they've downright killed him

Steals soft

adown her

and a

;

cheek, for pity dear

Then comes the low lament, with many a

O why

so wild, poor heart,

Be he the No, no

O

:

best or basest, let

he's

meet indeed

why him

if

beneath the bulls

he'll find his

he learn before

Medea

ne'er exulted in his fate."

it

be too

78

tear

:

sob,

die

his fate to fly

O may

;

dost thou throb

grant him, Goddess mine, safe voyage

Or,

:

does that voice of his her ears enthral

On them

"

;

late,

!

home

doom,

:

?

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND So

she, with

doubt distracted, anguish-wrung. its

crowds among

retracing tracks

upon the plain

They from

the City and

Were now

And Argos

thus to Jason spoke again

;

" Thou'lt blame me, son of Aeson, well

But we must venture

A

maiden

certain

Knows

all

Though on

if

we perchance persuade

my mother herein

to rely

:

,

entreaty try.

thou, are in dire jeopardy..

In loyal zeal he spoke " Sweet

like this.

hath no terrors with that aid

I fear, I will

we and

All,

:

the lore of herbs from Hecate.

conflict

Sorely

an hour

wis

I

there, I told to thee,

Her with her drugs The

in

:

friend,

I

:

and Jason then

gainsay

not

:

:

from ways

men Start back,

Go

all

that words

to thy mother's knees

And If

and

;

may do

essay.

thine utmost pray.

yet poor hope have I of our return

thus to any

womankind we 79

turn."

of

:

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND Then quick they gain

the leaf-hung estuary.

There's joyous welcome, and the questions

But, joyless, Jason saddens " Is

Dear

friends, the

fly.

the band.

all

stubborn monarch of this land

angered with us to his very soul

His bargains bilk us of the glorious Goal.

Two

on Ares' champaign graze

bulls of his

Their hooves are bronze

;

;

their breath a burning

blaze.

With

these

two acres must we plough

With dragons'

teeth

he'll

give

then sow

;

us

these

:

throw

The Giants

And

up, bronze

these, ere

This challenge

Took

reckless

He ended

;

armoured cap-a-pie

:

day be done, must prostrate I

up

(no other words ;

I

be.

found)

and now thereto

am

bound."

each on each were looking there,

Each brow dejected

in a

mute

despair.

To break

the silence and to parlance burst

Peleus at

last,

and only Peleus, 80

durst.

will

;!

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND " Princes, palaver

not needed

is

now

;

Rather, there's need of strength of hand, Jason,

if

thou art fain to keep thy word,

Out with thine armour, on thy But

if

of

Stir not, I will

man

He

in thee not sure

nor search

toil

some

in

still

And up

:

baldric gird

thou

other's heart

me

is

Telamon was

and Idas

to die." stirred

with heart see Meleager leap

The others

O

For

roll

he too was numbered

Still

friends, let this

my

in,

his chin.)

Argos counsels calm

be

last, if fight

mother's peaceful aid

'Twere better here a

Than go and

fling

a

little

life

;

ye must

I trust.

to refrain,

away, 81

;

!

to these paladins yield the palm,

silent sit.

in

;

rose the third.

Though yet no down was dark upon

"

art,

could Pollux nor could Castor keep

(That heroes'

And

;

I will try.

can bring

at this challenge

rose at once

Nor

it

not brook another.

The worst the But

trow.

I

— in vain. F

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND A

witch-girl in Petes' hall hath

And Hecate hath With

:

charms made known.

to her all

these, or culled

grown

from land, or

sea's expanse,

'Tis hers to assuage the fire's fierce brilliance,

To bind

And

My

the torrent thundering

e'en the

And

sisters)

might devise

alliance for our dire emprise.

With her

coming hither

to the palace,

an

there attempt

my

Back

and

:

it

I'll

A

spoke

;

and

lo

!

;

mother to persuade itself

may

fell

;

My

Now

aid."

!

the trembler on to Jason's breast,

Its furious foe, transfixed,

Then on

;

Heaven's token from above,

mighty hawk down swooping on a dove

Both

"

go

please ye so

Perchance therein e'en Heaven

He

the strath,

Holy Moon on heaven's high path.

mother (they are

I said so

down

upon the mast.

the instant Mopsus, as inspired

friends, this

hap

is

as the gods desired.

your suasion use

to that virgin all

Ply her with speeches

;

;

let

82

her not refuse.

!

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND Nor

will

she

;

knowingly

if

Phineus said

The Cyprian Queen our home-return must

aid.

This gentle bird, for certain, serveth her,

now escaped from

Just

And what As

if

To

this birdling to

'twere done,

So turn,

my

spoke

;

my

with

way

heart doth

May

I see.

friends, while

Argos' gentler

He

death, poor flutterer

this

it

:

tell,

be well

ye invoke that Power,

very hour."

memories

stirred

by Phineus'

name, Assenting

murmurs from the young men came.

But angered, and

for anger clamorous,

Idas in single discontentment rose

"

Women, methinks,

Ye would be

Who

;

sailed hitherward, not

shrieking to the Cyprian, then

dote on doves hawk-hunted

;

men

!

!

and would

shirk,

Strong though your hands, the mighty Wargod's work. Fye, then, and give yourselves from battle truce

Weak and un warlike wenches 83

to seduce

" !

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND He ended

very low the murmurs ran

;

Amongst them

none

but

;

faced

wrathful

the

man;

Who

scowling sat him

down

then Jason stirred

;

His own heart and the other's with this word

:

" Let Argos go, since thus ye show your mind.

But shoreward

and

ye,

Your hawsers now,

in the open,

for,

whatsoe'er our fate,

To cower here screened from

No more he Back

said

;

bind

onset,

'tis

too late."

and by him instant sent

to the Colchian city Argos went.

They, as he bade, from that dim waterway

Draw up

their anchors,

Then with the gathered

force of

many an

;

oar

••••••

They beach •

But

and on shipboard lay

their

Argo on the

hostile shore.

to the girl in slumber as she lay

Came

surcease of

all

anguish of the day

;

Yet dreams from waking hours so passionate

Came

too, beguiling, nattering to her fate.

84

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND She dreamed the Stranger now had been engaged

And

yet that combat grim

To win But

the Fleece

;

had not been waged

nor therefore had he come

for herself, to bear her to his

dreamed

She

;

home.

had joined the

herself

:

and

strain

stress,

Yoking the

bulls with easeful dexterousness

But then her parents had

;

their troth forsook

(Since he, not she, the trial undertook),

And with Till

the Stranger they had long debate

both had made her umpire of his

Then

she, all reckless of the unfilial

fate.

wrong,

Her Stranger chose before that courtly throng

A

:

cry of agony and anger broke

From

sire

and mother

:

with that cry she woke.

Quivering she started up

;

and

in

amaze

Searched her high chamber-walls with wandering gaze.

Scarce to her breast her flitting heart returned

Then

:

into words, thick-coming words, she burned.

85

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND '

"

Ah me

Some

Ah Off

what dreams yet

!

what fond

!

let

On me

yet

lies.

girl at

home.

the maiden's glory shine

;

these high ancestral halls be mine. ;

— no, no

Never, without I

!

fancies to that Stranger roam.

him wed some Grecian

let still

Still let

Will

mine ears and eyes

mischief in these heroes' coming

!

And

fill

;

my

not shameless utterly, asking me,

sister's

abet that hero in the strife

For she too trembles,

for her

own

;

sons'

life.

That, that, might pour on the tormenting flame

Of reckless love the water

She

rises,

and

all

of fair fame."

barefoot on the floors,

Thin-clad in linen night-dress, opes her doors.

Right fain

is

And now no

she to seek her sister's side

gate and vestibule divide

;

:

Passing along she has reached the very room,

But shame holds back, where love has made her

come

;

86

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND And backward Stealthy to her

Once more she

sends those poor irresolute feet

And

in retreat.

issues forth, the goal to gain

Once more those

Shame

chamber

still

feet are gliding in again.

ever holds her back, whene'er she

then,

when shame has

A

;

bride keeps

in

for her

young bridegroom,

Nor dares amongst her handmaidens

Him Or

loss,

and conscious

cruel fate has taken

ere their

in her corner ever

And

looks,

And

from the

to go,

of her

through

though

fires

woe

:

doth she crouch

silent tears,

towards her couch,

within her bosom burn,

fears to fleering

;

light,

mutual passion found delight

But

Silent

bed.

a chamber's gloom

mourning

Shamed by her

;

next, minished

down and writhed upon her

by kith wedded,

As,

stirs

held, bold passion spurs.

Thrice started she, thrice stayed

Cast herself

;

womenkind

So mourned and moaned Medea. 87

to turn

:

Passing by

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND A

serving girl beheld her agony

Then straightway

;

told Chalkiope within

With her sons planning how her aid Strange was the news

And

"

yet she believed

quick from chamber on to chamber

There lay her

On

;

to win.

sister

it

true

;

flew.

with fresh bleeding scars

her young cheeks, eyes swimming in big tears.

Ah

whence

!

these tears,

Medea mine

?

"

she

cries:

"

What

Is it

pain

is

this thine

inmost being

tries

?

a fever thrilling every bone,

Or threatening from Threatening of

my

father,

me and mine

!

makes thee moan

O

would that

?

I

Far from these homes and their barbarity Birdlike to boundary of earth

Where Then

e'en fierce Colchis'

o'er her face the

But answer came not

had flown

name was never known

sudden crimson came too, for

;

maiden shame.

Truth, to her eager tongue-tip almost brought,

88

" !

;

;;

THE WITCH SPELLBOUND Back

to her

Truth

O

to that sweet gate,

this at last she

love

is

sent,

in deceit

bold, to counterfeit.

sire (that's

what

I fear)

swift destruction to thy children dear,

As well

as to the Strangers

In dreams I've had in O,

was

no further went.

stammered

and

quick,

" Chalkiope, our

Means

only thought

flitted,

to the passage of her lips

But come But

bosom

may Heaven

Nor anguish

of

my

!

O, the fright

short sleep to-night.

may come

grant they never

bereavement

fall

on you

In craft she spoke, the mother's heart to

true

" !

stir,

Her

offspring threatened, aid to entreat from her

And

that which scheming passion

made her say

Struck to her listener's heart right dire dismay " This, fearing this," she cried, " to thee

To

;

I

;

came,

plan some rescue, and to work the same.

Swear now by

earth,

and swear by Heaven,

That our staunch fellow-worker thou 89

to me,

wilt be,

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND 0, by the Blest, thyself, thy name, ne'er brook

On murdered me and murdered mine Lest from the realms of Death

A

to look

;

wander back

I

vengeance ever on thy track."

frightful

She spoke, and bursting into tears she crept

To

clasp her knees

and on her bosom wept.

;

There, head o'er head lamenting, the low calls

Of each to each were plaintive through the

Then out Medea " Sister

thy

!

have

I

I

words

of curses

talkest,

Would

cried, distressfully,

are

strange

What

!

cure

I,

That thus

Thou

halls.

and

hanging

of

o'er

my head

vengeance from the dead

was sure to save them

!

At the

?

least,

swear your Oath, for Colchians solemnest

By Heaven, by Though

So she

;

all

mother-Earth,

I'll

thee befriend

thy prayers in unfruition end."

and then outspake Chalkiope

" Right welcome to that Stranger 90

it

;

would be

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND thou couldst dare, from

If

Some

trick,

O

my

for

some

lesson

sons' sake tell

all

how

thy witcheries,

to

combat

His need

!

is

tell

well.

sore

:

Argos he sends, his own ambassador. Argos

is

here within the palace gate

But now

I left

him, when

I

;

heard thy state."

Medea's heart leapt up, hot crimson flushed

That

face

;

upon those eyes "

Yet answered she I'll

work thy

;

will,

My

love's

sister,

dimness rushed.

never fear

whate'er to thee be dear.

Ne'er in mine eyes shine more the morning gold,

me among

Ne'er mayst thou If

ever aught of

Than

thou,

all

the quick behold,

creation be

and than thy

sons,

more dear

to me.

For they are kinsmen, playmates, brothers mine

Thy

sister, I

am

daughter too of thine.

For thou,

my

Me

oft as

them an

Go

;

So

and our

my

mother used to

tell,

didst rest

infant on thy breast.

plot in silence

bury deep

;

preparings from our sire to keep. 91

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND At dawn to Hecate's

To bear him drugs

here engage

I

the bull's

So, quickly then Chalkiope

Back

to her sons

;

Then shame, then Thus

is

to assuage."

gone

sits alone.

the other

To

comes again.

terror,

and

in a sire's despite,

The lands

fire

man

for a

are plunged in darkness

;

plan

!

from

still

sterns

Steersmen look up where great Orion burns

And

the Bear circles

Spent travellers long

Worn

now

;

for

;

their dear repose

as their gates they close

warders win their slumbers

balms

;

of sleep

E'en o'er a late-bereaved mother creep.

No dog

barks through the town

sound

But

no murmur of

;

silence hushes blackness

Not so Medea's night

Whom

;

;

wreathed around.

no sleep

for her,

fearsome-fond anticipations

stir,

Beneath those furious bulls how shockingly

Soon down the War-god's furrow he must 92

die.

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND Fast caged within her bosom that poor heart

Can

no

find

rest

;

it

can but throb and dart,

Quick as a chambered sunray shooting up

From wave

just

poured in cauldron or in cup

As whirls the water,

so

it

lights the

room,

Hither and thither brandished in the gloom

;

heart quivering to and fro

;

Thus

the

is

girl's

;

And

tender trickling tears of pity flow

And

fraught with pain an inly-mouldering flame

Wraps

the thin fibres of her delicate frame

Mounts

to the very

Where ache

When

;

is

crown

of her blond

head

ever sorest, passion-fed,

in a heart

on wings that never

Fall the barbed arrows of a

And now

;

young

tire

desire

;

she thought the assuaging drugs to

give;

And now

she

would not

;

nor herself would

live.

Now, But

or to give, or perish, she would not

just with folded

hands endure her 93

lot.

!

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND

In doubt she

sits

and

;

still

"

Ah

I

cannot think to choose.

!

me,

it is

For the pain

Would

doubt she

cries

but choice of miseries.

itself

;

this

No hope burning

had been by her

I

in

of ease

will

not cease.

swift darts subdued,

Darts of the huntress queen of maidenhood,

Or

ere I

Or

ere

saw

my

this Searcher of the Fleece

sister's

;

sons set foot in Greece

!

For now by God, or Furies, driven they're here

To touch

the springs of

many

a bitter tear

Perish that Stranger on his battlefield, If

on that fallow dire

For how should

Compound

Ah

!

with

the drugs

?

is

sealed.

sire so vigilant,

What

tale

me, there's no concealment

Meet him,

And

I,

his fate

will

he be with

his

yet no hope his death

Tis death

to me,

if

!

should

And when

company

So perish modesty and outward show

!

I

?

my hurt may mend

his dear life should

94

invent

I

end

!

;

?

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND I'll

save him

And

that

Disengaged then

!

same hour he

My death-noose

That

will the

And even

My

tale

of poison for

bonds

him go

victor, I will die

is

from yon rafters

Or drink the cup

let

of soul

I will tie

my

;

;

;

thirst,

and body burst

;

then they'll come and look their scorn

through town and country

will

be borne

;

;

Hither and thither every gadding dame

my

Will have upon her lips '

She died from caring

Lovesick for him, her

Her mother nought

'

name

an outlander

for

was nought

sire

— ah

shocking

what

!

will

;

to her

Then that

foul mischief will unuttered be."

She spoke

;

and

straight her casket

Drugs good were there She took

it

;

on her knees

Of her short

life

and drugs ;

went to

!

find.

of deadly kind

but then the thought

the tears in torrents brought 95

!

to lay

life

and leave thine end a mystery

;

;

they not say

Poor wretch, 'twere best down here thy This night

:

;

—

;

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND Tears, endless tears, were drenching

The piteous measure

Then was she

And

put

it

of a

deep

all

her dress,

distress.

fain to choose the deadliest

to her lips

;

and be

at rest.

And now

her slender hand

Lo

stayed by a strange countershock

!

it is

The grave and With sudden

its

What

on the lock

!

terror to her heart it,

comes home

;

in her mind's swift glance

in life she cared for all advance.

joys there were in living that sweet while

The merry playmates

of her girlhood smile

And

to see the sun

Now

;

unutterable gloom

And, beckoning from Sweet things

is

more sweet

light

would

!

;

fling

that she grasps aright each living thing.

Down

she has put the case where death

Her mind, by Here's Impatient only

Even the

now

first faint

To go and

give

him

grace,

is

is

mixed

elsewhere fixed,

for cheerful

morn,

glimmerings of dawn, at her trysting place

The assuaging charms, and meet him 96

face to face.

!

THE WITCH SPELL-BOUND How

oft her portal's crossbar

does she

lift

Peering in darkness for that golden

rift

With rapture now

she

And

figures

its far-cast

dimly moving

beam

greets,.

in the streets.

His brothers there, as Argos bade, had stayed

To watch

forthgoings of the magic

maid

;

Himself, to arrange betimes the fateful day,

Was

speeding back where mighty Argo lay.

97

The Elephant From Ostha next There elephants

And

Or

feed

;

is

roam

;

to each,

One by another

close,

from head-crown black, to mighty

tusk projecting arms each lengthy jaw

The

tapering trunk can

The massive The nape,

clip,

hunch

The roomy back can take a Knees,

feet,

The neck

is

Holds eyes as wild

Of

reptile's head,

Then, when

'tis

it

:

;

is

down

;

grown.

countless throng

beneath unstaggering lowly arched

toes.

as sickle, straw.

foot can tread the jungle

as camel's, to a

;

an hundred reach,

see the years to twice

thrice, their goals.

They

A

in nursing jungles

nature's self so bounteous

They

come

the harnessed warriors

;

roll along.

the front enorme

boar's, but the expansive

form

spreads so vast and broad.

moving on the marching road, 98

;

THE ELEPHANT on the brow beneath,

Its fleshless ears flap

Swung

And on The

by the

into motion

the flanks, as

if

gentlest breath

to quicken,

sent

is

short slight tail in ceaseless brandishment.

And Trunk E'en

oft in battle rushing

on the foe

raised, in bull-like charge tusks pointing low,

so, it

reaches warriors on their car

With strange sharp twin-toothed weapon

And The

with

its

:

Then where he

To

it

twisting

and arms and man

downward

then,

Impales him on

Once more

its

lies

whirls

aloft

as he drops from high,

pointed ivory. a dead

man

in the dust

him up with angry

still its

thrust

:

nostril in its ire

folds as thick as spiny serpent's spire,

Lowers those sharp falchions

To

war

of its

prehensile nostril seizing oft

soldier, shield

It flings

And

;

its

very

feet, as if for

99

in its

combat

jawbone

yet.

set

An Now

Indian Sunrise

bidding balmy Sleep outspread his wings

Dawn

all

her orient portals open

flings,

Leaving her lord's bright chamber

:

arrowy gleams

Of whiteness glimmer on black Ganges' streams, And, blasted as by

fire,

the

mounds

Sundered to misty masses take

And showered abundant from The

glittering

of night

their flight,

her pearly car

dewdrops drench the standing

ear.

Next, shepherd swart of flocking years, the sun

Has harnessed Loud

is

the

all his fire-fed

morn

:

'tis

steeds to run.

Battle that he hears

Midst bickering helms, and clashing of the spears.

So

lifts

And

he up his beacon for the fray

o'er the plains

more crimson pours ioo

his day.

1

AN INDIAN SUNRISE Ah

!

strange and bloodred in that fateful hour

His haze was shed

Where dusty Were dyed

And

:

it

told of streams of gore,

levels of the blue

in

champaign

hues of that ensanguined

rain,

the steel morions, burnished for the fight,

Made

fiercer

splendours of the fierce sunlight

10

;

::

The And

Spoils of India

then each liveried dancer of the god

Lent to her shoe his madness as she See

A

trod.

stamping wildly with resounding

!

feet,

Satyr whirled across with rhythmic beat

And

as he flew, for surer balancement,

Upon

a frenzied

Then footmen

girl his

hand was

leant.

of the Born-of-thunder

Through the wild dance

;

and

dash

all

their

targes

clash

Advancing sure

in quick-revolving

wheel

Corybants in armoured

They beat

like

There

with glancing helms, the horsemen go

too,

who conquers every

reel

Hymning

the god

And none

are voiceless there, though in their cries

One tongue shouts ever " Evce 102

foe

:

" to the skies.

;

;

THE SPOILS OF INDIA

All treasures

from the plundered orient

His soldiers bore

One with

one with a jasper went

:

sapphires,

stones

with holy

streaked

light

One with

great sheets of pale green malachite.

Others beneath the noble crags of Kush Their elephants' slow captive columns push.

From

caves that pierce great Himalaya's heart

Another hies with In triumph

To

A

home

lions to his cart :

another

ties his

band

lead a leopard to the iEolian strand.

Satyr dances by with vinous thong

Lashing his spotted tiger

Another

for the

fast along.

temple-maid he wed

Brings from the brakes a scented cane salt-fed

Or those

pale treasures of the sea that shine

Deep

in the

bosom

And,

in her

chamber caught, her spouse beside

of the Indian brine

;

Haled by her hair went many a dusky bride 103

;

;

THE SPOILS OF INDIA Their slave-necks

bent

beneath the Bacchante's

band.

But

she,

Went

with streams of wealth on arm and hand,

flitting

Till all the

up

to Tmolus' heights

and sang

mountain with her " Evce " rang.

THE END

Printed by Bai.lantyne,

Edinburgh

dr*

Hanson London

6* Co.

—

——

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Other Works by the same Author

A Harp

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Saturday Review. " Mr. Moore has something to say and knows

how to say ' force of expression varies. Modern Oxford,' in three cantos, is his chief effort in this volume, and it is a really eloquent utterance of the conflict between it,

though

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faith. Mr. Moore has caught here something of the true music of blank verse." Spectator. .

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the work."

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Nocturnes and Other Poems ELLIOT STOCK Fcap. 8vo, handsomely printed and bound. Price 3s. 6d. " Written with a true poetic feeling." Daily Messenger. " The reader who fails to find evidence of considerable talent in this little volume will prove his unfitness to pose

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The sonnet is the true form for a writer who can touch a vignette so clearly as in the following admirable fines."— Pall Mall Gazette. " A finely expressed, if somewhat enigmatical, meditation Light on the dormant paganism of our country-sides. a poem that contains much charmand Dark in Spring Manchester Guardian. ing landscape." " Mr. Moore has a pretty and graceful touch in verse." Reading Mercury. " All the book shows skill." Glasgow Herald. " Our main complaint, an unusual one, against Mr. Moore's book is that it is too short." Standard. " There is both truth and music in some of these stanzas. In manner, that is, in style, finish, and versification, the author of Nocturnes and other Poems may challenge comparison with almost any of the minor poets of the day." Church Gazette. " Mr. Moore shows evidences of a genuine love of field and woodland and an intimate knowledge of the sights "

off

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and sounds

of country life."

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Isis.

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Anothen

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Manchester Guardian. 2

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poems

of

Anothen

fervour."

'

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" There is contained between the covers of Eyes in Solitude not a little verse which must be grateful to any reader well enough instructed to make the true choice between what contains one true spark and what is unlit. like all the seven most important pieces in this book, and have chosen Anothen to be our favourite." Literary World. " The poems with which the book opens shows Mr. Moore at his best and his best is very good. The Voyante ' is a very charming reminiscence. An extraordinary disregard of metre is especially irritating in A Midland Moor when it is combined with real poetic possibilities." '

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Leeds Mercury. " Iona in the South and Wild Flowers and Wild Oates are a couple of delightful poems." Glasgow Herald. '

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" Mr. Moore is an artistic workman, accomplished in the and he has a quiet thoughtfulhandling of his medium ;

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" In Catching Sunbeams,' in many ways a ripe and able work, full of gentle, brooding thought, the attempt to win rich, varied music from a particularly difficult metre has resulted in a queer hesitation as to the number of feet in The book contains some the last line of each stanza. genuine poetry. Wykehamists will be especially interested in what must be called a document, rather than a and A Mercian Landscape,' poem, on Evening Hills among other things in this volume, recalls the work of another Wykehamical poet, Collins." Times. " There is strong dramatic sense shown in Jonathan ' and Evening Hills.' " Queen. " New Poems are full of refined and various moods conveyed in a medium of very high poetic quality." Pall '

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'

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Mall "

Gazette.

as a whole will confirm its author's reputation as a proper singer for readers of the more studious Scotsman sort " His meditations on nature as revealed in landscape are Yorkshire Post. sympathetic."

The book

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" The leading inspiration is the beauty of the world in places remote from the towns. The thought is wrought out with great beauty of language, and something akin to a lover's passion for the wild things of earth in practically all the poems. It is the keynote of the most striking poem in the book, Catching Sunbeams.' ... A loftiness of thought distinguishes the other poems, among which, for " ' its fine human feeling, we would single .

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.

.

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out

— Glasgow Herald.

Jonathan.'

" Mr. Moore is eloquent, and finds for his eloquence appropriate expression in blank verse. This he can write on occasion with much skill. Jonathan is a poem of considerable merit. ... So is Evening Hills,' which will make its special appeal to Winchester men." Spectator. To turn to pages in New Poems is to come upon many a sign of the singer's fitness to make holiday with music, thought, and fancy. From Watered Gardens,' which is a poem descriptive of scenery belonging to unfrequented parts of the Thames Valley, we take five verses that are nearly perfect. ... In The Sanctuary,' A Mercian Landscape,' and Evening Hills,' there is matter so stimulating that we needs must hope for Mr. Moore's reappearance." Literary World. " new volume from Mr. Moore is welcome indeed, for his work bears the true hall-mark. Chief among its contents is a sad suggestive poem on modern Oxford." Church Times. " A well-pleasing collection of poems, which will worthily sustain the writer's well-deserved reputation." Outlook. Jonathan,' though it has necessarily less than the Biblical force and simplicity, is an essay in smooth and moderate but not feeble blank verse." Manchester Guardian. " The verses in Mr. Moore's new book are unequal, and often careless, but we are willing to forgive the lapses for the sake of a few lines in the poem called Catching Sunbeams.' The opening poem, Watered Gardens,' in the measure of Rabbi Ben Ezra,' is full of pretty mention of the flowers while The Sanctuary has an original stanza like a little picture for brightness and finish." '

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Daily News. " Mr. Moore handles blank verse more easily than most others. A Modern Hippolytus moves vigorously, considering that the scene is laid at 2.30 a.m. in New College '

'

Gardens at Commemoration time. Evening Hills command of the blank metre. Watered Gardens,' a Thames-side idyll, shows some pretty passages and Mr. Moore at his best. The Sanctuary has an awkward metre, and it is something to move in it with occasional ease." Reading Mercury. '

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also proves

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" A Modern Hippolytus reveals an easy command over blank verse, with Pisgah flashes of poetry the last stanza of Evening Hills is full of melody and deep feeling." '

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London Opinion.

The Holy Well and Other Poems KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & Fcap. 8vo,

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" Mr. Moore

is already favourably known as a fine artist in verse, and this new volume fully maintains that reputation. Those who know his work will be glad to find that classic themes still haunt him, and especially will they be entertained by his rendering of that Classic Bab Ballad, The Rival Curates,' into Latin elegiacs." Yorkshire Post. " never read this author without wondering how a '

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Winchester and Oxford man can allow himself to be so uncertain in rhyme and metre he drops an alexandrine, clearly by accident, into the middle of a poem in blank verse, ends the stanza of his Yellow Gentian impartially with an alexandrine and five iambi, and commits a score Still, if the old faults are of other elementary mistakes. .

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here, so are the old beauties." Times. " It is in blank verse in this volume, at any rate, that Mr. Moore has embodied his most characteristic announceEsther has a rare largeness and distinction it ment. and its proportions are firm is resolute and unpadded '

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and dramatic. As a blank-verse dramatist, Mr. Moore might one day win a not inconsiderable distinction." Liverpool Courier. " By means of excellent

work in other volumes Mr. William Moore has earned the right of a welcome for a new collection of verses. We cannot say that we have found in The Holy Well quite such an ample pleasure as resulted from our perusal of New Poems,' but we have certainly come upon charms that have repaid us for time spent in the examination of this book. Always thoughtful, always observant, always enthusiastic among the marvels of nature in the woodlands, Mr. Moore gives thanks in many a dignified and stimulating poem. Had The MerThe Holy Well cian Marches been the only fine piece, would have been worth buying. This poet believes that the natural beauties of the world were scattered with a free hand by the Creator as gifts to the highest of His creatures. '

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He looks upon the borage, not as the result of ages and ages of evolution, but as an immediate act of God blessing man in a rapture of bounty. The voices of scientific evolutionists vex his ears. It is no part of our plan to take a side in the controversy between Darwin and Mr. Moore. Our concern is with the poetry in his book. This is of a refreshing kind, especially in The Mercian Marches,' which is a poem that we shall be very slow to forget." Literary World. '

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A

" scholar's seriousness chastens down the genuine lyrical impulse which gives this graceful book of poems relatively long philosophical its warmer colours. ... poem, which studies the character of Seneca's brother, Gallio, also reflects its writer's classical sympathies. The rest of the book, its dignified sonnets on Naples, its meditative pieces in blank verse, and its stately, ode-like piece on Verbal Inspiration,' all reveal an accomplished artist Glasgow Herald. in verse." " Though Mr. Moore once more evinces his affection for classic themes, he does not fail to find inspiration in the Back to the Land.' ... In the beauty of earth, •cry of the loveliness of flowers, Mr. Moore finds his inspiration, and readers who possess a liking for contemplative poetry inspired by strong sincerity will find much to please and stimulate them in this volume." Daily Telegraph. " There is far more than poetic intention behind Mr. Moore's poetry. While much of modern verse moves along

A

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a shadowy way which derives its beauty from the very shape of the shadows that fall athwart it, the mystery of its windings, and, above all, from its final secret, such poetry as Mr. Moore's travels on the sunlit highway where each signpost follows very closely on the last. Mr. Moore is no visionary, except that for him the ideal is real and the real is the ideal. The very subjects that he chooses and he is never very far from high doctrine and the orthodox philosophy of the spirit almost overwhelm him in the emotions they raise, so close is the harmony between

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religious temperament and the subjects themselves. Apart from philosophy or doctrine, there is much beautiful poetry in this volume." Oxford Chronicle.

his

6

— " Another volume of poems by an old Wykehamist, and a very welcome one. Mr. Moore will be best remembered as the author of Evening Hills in the volume called New Poems published not long ago. This present volume contains only a few poems, about nine pieces of a fair length, three sonnets, and two translations into Latin, and it is pleasant to find that he keeps well up to the standard which he has set himself by his former work. Though it cannot be said that any of the pieces in this book show absolutely outstanding merit, yet they are none of them without a certain interest and individuality. Mr. Moore is above all things an artist in verse, and he unites with skilful handling of his medium a quiet refinement and thoughtfulness which will appeal to many readers. His spontaneous delight and sympathy with Nature has also lost none of its charm. Back to the Land is full of things that please in this way, and it strikes us as a poem of distinct merit. But all of the volume is worth reading by any who care for the true poetic spirit. The two Latin translations at the end of the book are of Byron's There be none of Beauty's Daughters and Campbell's Evening Star.' There are also two translations, with English verse, from Apollonius Rhodius and Nonnus." The Wykehamist. '

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