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I plead Thyself with Thee Who wast partaker

Of mine infirmity;

Love made Thee what Thou art, the love of me,I plead Thyself with Thee.

[A Pageant etc. 1881.]

LORD, I am waiting, weeping, watching for Thee:
My youth and hope lie by me buried and dead,
My wandering love hath not where to lay its head
Except Thou say "Come to Me."

My noon is ended, abolished from life and light,
My noon is ended, ended and done away,

My sun went down in the hours that still were day,
And my lingering day is night.

How long, O Lord, how long in my desperate pain
Shall I weep and watch, shall I weep and long for Thee?
Is Thy grace ended, Thy love cut off from me?
How long shall I long in vain?

O God Who before the beginning hast seen the end, Who hast made me flesh and blood, not frost and not fire, Who hast filled me full of needs and love and desire And a heart that craves a friend,


Who hast said "Come to Me and I will give thee rest,' Who hast said "Take on thee My yoke and learn of Me," Who calledst a little child to come to Thee,

And pillowedst John on Thy breast;

Who spak'st to women that followed Thee sorrowing, Bidding them weep for themselves and weep for their own; Who didst welcome the outlaw adoring Thee all alone, And plight Thy word as a King,—

By Thy love of these and of all that ever shall be,
By Thy love of these and of all the born and unborn,
Turn Thy gracious eyes on me and think no scorn
Of me, not even of me.

Beside Thy Cross I hang on my cross in shame,
My wounds, weakness, extremity cry to Thee:
Bid me also to Paradise, also me,
For the glory of Thy Name.


[A Pageant etc. 1881.]

I HAVE desired, and I have been desired:
But now the days are over of desire,
Now dust and dying embers mock my fire:
Where is the hire for which my life was hired?
Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Longing and love, pangs of a perished pleasure,
Longing and love, a disenkindled fire,

And memory a bottomless gulf of mire,

And love a fount of tears outrunning measure:

Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Now from my heart, love's deathbed, trickles, trickles,
Drop by drop slowly, drop by drop of fire,
The dross of life, of love, of spent desire:
Alas my rose of life gone all to prickles!
Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Oh vanity of vanities, desire!

Stunting my hope which might have strained up higher,
Turning my garden-plot to barren mire;

Oh death-struck love, oh disenkindled fire,
Oh vanity of vanities, desire!


[A Pageant etc. 1881.]

THE Spring spreads one green lap of flowers
Which Autumn buries at the fall,

No chilling showers of Autumn hours

Can stay them or recall;

Winds sing a dirge, while earth lays out of sight
Her garment of delight.

The cloven East brings forth the sun,
The cloven West doth bury him
What time his gorgeous race is run
And all the world grows dim;

A funeral moon is lit in heaven's hollow,
And pale the star-lights follow.


[“Sonnets from Three Centuries,” ed. by Hall Caine, 1882. — Circa 1881.]


"ARISE, depart, for this is not your rest.
Oh burden of all burdens, still to arise
And still depart nor rest in any wise!
Rolling, still rolling thus from East to West,
Earth journeys on her immemorial quest,

Whom a moon chases in no different guise.
Thus stars pursue their courses, and thus flies
The sun, and thus all creatures manifest
Unrest the common heritage, the ban

Flung broadcast to all humankind, on all

Who live-for, living, all are bound to die. That which is old, we know that it is man.

These have no rest who sit and dream and sigh, Nor have those rest who wrestle and who fall.



[A Pageant etc. 1881.]


"Lo di che han detto a' dolci amici addio." DANTE.
"Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci!" PEtrarca.

COME back to me, who wait and watch for you:-
Or come not yet, for it is over then,
And long it is before you come again,
So far between my pleasures are and few.
While, when you come not, what I do I do

Thinking "Now when he comes," my sweetest "when": For one man is my world of all the men This wide world holds; O love, my world is you. Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang

Because the pang of parting comes so soon; My hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon Between the heavenly days on which we meet: Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang

When life was sweet because you called them sweet?


"Era già l'ora che volge il desio." DANTE.

"Ricorro al tempo ch' io vi vidi prima." PETRARCA.

I wish I could remember that first day,

First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,

So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree

That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such

A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;

It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;

If only now I could recall that touch,

First touch of hand in hand-Did one but know!


"O ombre vane, fuor che ne l'aspetto!" DAnte.
"Immaginata guida la conduce." PETRARCA.

I dream of you, to wake: would that I might
Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;
Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone,
As, Summer ended, Summer birds take flight.
In happy dreams I hold you full in sight,

I blush again who waking look so wan;
Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,
In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.
Thus only in a dream we are at one,

Thus only in a dream we give and take

The faith that maketh rich who take or give; If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake, To die were surely sweeter than to live, Though there be nothing new beneath the sun.


"Amor che a nullo amato amar perdona." DANTE. "Amor m'adusse in si gioiosa spene." PETRARCA.

O my heart's heart, and you who are to me
More than myself myself, God be with you,
Keep you in strong obedience leal and true.
To Him whose noble service setteth free;

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