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.
"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;
Give you all good we see or can foresee,
Make your joys many and your sorrows few,
Bless you in what you bear and what you do,
Yea, perfect you as He would have you be.
So much for you; but what for me, dear friend?
To love you without stint and all I can,
To-day, to-morrow, world without an end;
To love you much and yet to love you more,
As Jordan at his flood sweeps either shore;
Since woman is the helpmeet made for man.
"Con miglior corso e con migliore stella." DANTE.
"La vita fugge e non s'arresta un' ora." PETrarca.
Time flies, hope flags, life plies a wearied wing;
Death following hard on life gains ground apace;
Faith runs with each and rears an eager face,
Outruns the rest, makes light of everything,
Spurns earth, and still finds breath to pray and sing;
While love ahead of all uplifts his praise,
Still asks for grace and still gives thanks for grace,
Content with all day brings and night will bring.
Life wanes; and when love folds his wings above
Tired hope, and less we feel his conscious pulse,
Let us go fall asleep, dear friend, in peace:
A little while, and age and sorrow cease;
A little while, and life reborn annuls
Loss and decay and death, and all is love.
"E la Sua Volontade è nostra pace." DANTE.
"Sol con questi pensier, con altre chiome." PETRARCA.
Youth gone, and beauty gone if ever there
Dwelt beauty in so poor a face as this;
Youth gone and beauty, what remains of bliss?
I will not bind fresh roses in my hair,
To shame a cheek at best but little fair,-
Leave youth his roses, who can bear a thorn,-
I will not seek for blossoms anywhere,
Except such common flowers as blow with corn. Youth gone and beauty gone, what doth remain? The longing of a heart pent up forlorn,
A silent heart whose silence loves and longs; The silence of a heart which sang its songs While youth and beauty made a summer morn, Silence of love that cannot sing again.
LATER LIFE: A DOUBLE SONNET OF SONNETS. [A Pageant etc. 1881.]
THOU Who didst make and knowest whereof we are made, Oh bear in mind our dust and nothingness,
Our wordless tearless numbness of distress: Bear Thou in mind the burden Thou hast laid Upon us, and our feebleness unstayed
Except Thou stay us: for the long long race
Which stretches far and far before our face
Thou knowest,-remember Thou whereof we are made.
If making makes us Thine then Thine we are,
And if redemption we are twice Thine own:
If once Thou didst come down from heaven afar
To seek us and to find us, how not save?
Comfort us, save us, leave us not alone,
Thou who didst die our death and fill our grave.
So tired am I, so weary of to-day,
So unrefreshed from foregone weariness,
So overburdened by foreseen distress,
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