THE LILT OF LIFE By ZORA CROSS THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE LILT OF LIFE THE LILT OF LIFE By ZORA CROSS jJulhoT of " Songs of Love and Life " anJ " Tfie Cily of Riddle-Me-Ree " SYDNEY ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD. 89 CASTLEREAGH STREET 1918 Printed by W. C. Penfold & Co. I^td., 1S3 Pitt Street, Sydney Several of the poems contained in this volume have appeared in The Bulletin; one in The Lone Hand; the remainder are here published for the first time. Z. C. 131 *7''GP.'* CONTENTS PAGE The Lilt of Life -------- i Man and Woman ------- 12 Sonnets of Motherhood ------ -j-] Columbine .--- 122 Heart's Desire 124 Australia in England ------ 125 Wishes 126 Woman - 127 Gipsy- Joy ---------129 Fairy Ride ---------130 The Magic Fiddler ------- 131 The Land of Heart's Desire ----- 132 Sleep ---- 134 Child-Song --- 135 Spirits of the Street ------- 136 An Early Moon --------137 Tinker Time -------- 138 Little Bo-Peep -------- 140 Love's Evolution ---- ----141 Fragment ----- ...-142 Numerals -- -- 142 Happy Song --------- 143 Helen in Hyde Park 144 A Wedding Song ---- _--. 146 THE LILT OF LIFE THE LILT OF LIFE BE blithe, my soul, the world is free! Shrill high the pipes of Liberty! The mountains melt to azure mist, The dancing sea is amethyst. The rose beside the yellow wall Is opening at the young bird's call. The air is sweet. No rain complains Along the old, green window panes. The happy dawn is rosy white; And, through the lanes of leaping light, The brown bee sails on scented wing. While every poppy turns to sing Her drowsy, faint imagining. O soul of me, no more forsaken In glooms of fear, A thousand melodies awaken; The fetters from your wings are shaken; Your day shines clear. For Death is dead. With muffled tread, See the dark procession go — Plume, and hearse, and solemn show. Priest and sexton walk beside; And black Fate that was his bride THE LILT OF LIFE Wears the weeds of widow-woe. Lay him low ! Let no prayer of hope be read, Speak no blessing o'er his head. Dust to dust, Mould and rust — Even so. He is gone that was our foe. Death is dead. II Dew on the shining leaf Morning on morning, Sun on green blade and sheaf; And a swift bird scorning With his aspiring song The dark that hid the wrong. Sunrise driving the night Ever and ever; And a brown hand clasped in a white That none may sever Through all the days of the years, And the years love-laden; But never a falling of tears For the lover or maiden. THE LILT OF LIFE There is never an end to all, For the thing that we feared is dead; And the earth is over its head, And the woods and the meadows call ! Ill Let all the earth with happy voice Through dimpled hill and vale rejoice. Let the glad mountain lift its head Above the graves of all the dead. Let fallowed field and da,isicd lea. Green, tossing forest, waving free, And finest sands of every sea Swell the clear shout of victory. For Death is dead. No more the airs are broken With wailings round the bed, No more the words are spoken With bent and sorrowing head. For Love that on a breath Fails and grows cold. Sing, Earth, through all your morning gold ! The grave shall never call again. Triumphant Man shall live and reign Victorious over Death. THE LILT OF LIFE IV O love, who brought my soul to me, Come, join the dancing witchery. My little hand is close in yours And everlasting sweetness lures The passion of delight along My body like a song. O bare our breasts unto the light And from the dawn drink, clearest sight As, up-hill swinging, We reach the summit of our dreams Above the valleys and the streams With blue bells ringing; And see beneath us far below Meadow on meadow toss and blow Eternal green of field and hill Leading to greener beauties still. Where the blue-eyed day and free Sings her carol lullingly, "From all have cold and darkness fled For Death — Death is dead." THE LILT OF LIFE V Let all the seas through all their waters sing, Where wave on wave the crested billows fling Their foamy spray on fretted rock and shore. Let the deep organ of the tempest roar Tumultuous joy to all the winds that blow. And let the fluting ripples come and go Round coral isles that sleep in purple calm — A pulsing treble to the ocean's psalm. No shipwrecked bones shall hide Below the waving weed For evermore. No shoreward creeping tide With sorrowing song shall lead The drowned to the shore. O seas, rejoice and fling Through rainbow deep and cave A message blithe and brave, Till the shell-strewn beaches ring In long remembering That Death is dead. The terror of the rushing storm is fled. The cyclone wears a glory round its head; And every island has a voice to sing! THE LILT OF LIFE VI Love of my soul, catch hands. Naked and shining, Over the brown, wet sands, Fingers entwining. Run out to meet the sea And the foam flying free — Purple and blue and pearl Where the far clouds begin. Where the lithe, white mermaids curl. Rise with the waves and wake and whirl, Coming in, coming in To kiss us with cool joy Hailing, "Ahoy, ahoy." O, they will bear us 'neath the wave Into a blue, enchanted cave With coral spread, Where youngest mermaids swim serene Among the weeds and trailers green To Beauty's bed. Come, Love, the seas roll on and on For ever sapphire, green and red. And all the fears from them have gone. THE LILT OF LIFE VII As when I was a child of two, O, let me sail there, Love, with you. For then, when I was very small, I fancied God was kind and tall, And sailed His fleets of stars for me That my dim eyes all things might see. My tiny hands could pluck their light As flowers that scent the fields at night. I seemed to wear them on my breast Like one great rose which brought me rest. O Love, within our shell of love We two shall sail on seas above, Mid mist and light about the moon Who nods and bends to us in tune, And softly drifting down the tide Of smiling stars we both shall slide Into the haven of the Blest And find again my Rose of Rest. THE LILT OF LIFE VIII Be blithe, my soul, all, all is free; Earth, sky and sea at liberty. The trellised vine can shade no sigh When 'neath the rounded, turkis sky The little lambs skip two by two Where gaze the wild, wood violets blue; When through the corn, the clean, cool breeze Wakens his tender harmonies, And every blushing flower unfolds The virgin passion that she holds. O Love, my Love, let us away Where all the white, sun-children play. And wade the airy, morning seas Splashing the light about their knees. O Soul of me, so happy-hearted. Our life is free. From all regrets and sorrows parted. Old doubts and little tears that smarted. Loosed merrily. For Death is dead And from his bed Adown the hill Life comes athrill THE LILT OF LIFE With pulsing passion, love and mirth Strewing on the waiting earth Breathing colours fresh as dew — Glad green and gold and clearest blue. She pipes her lay, and to her side All young and lovely creatures glide. The sweetest birds delight her ear, Youth and maid in joy draw near. The dreaming shepherd leaves his flock And, hitching up his slow, brown smock. Runs in rapture after her Who sets the living world astir. With pipe and flute and singing reed, Crying the end of Death they speed. O Love, away, and you and I Will catch her as she hurries by; Will dance and sing About her ring, For nothing now is left to die. And out of graves and tombs asleep Happy children laughing leap Shouting: "Life has come to stay All the happy, happy day." THE LILT OF LIFE IX Who slew grey Death? Who stilled his icy breath, And broke the fetters of his curse asunder? O soul of me, O ancient mystery, 0 pulse of woman-wonder ! My love and I went singing for awhile, Then stayed to smile; And in his eyes the longing and the power Filled the white hour. 1 was a little breathing thing, Half-clay, half-cloud. Fluttering a feeble wing. He called me up to him Through joy-mists dim. Till all my being was a rainbow-fire Lit with the ecstasy of such desire It made me one in promise with the stars. Then Death came near And drew the bolts and bars Of the dark house of Fear. Out of the place of our seeming And singing and dreaming 10 THE LILT OF LIFE Thrice he called to my love. O my soul, it was I Plucking a sword from the sky And a shield from the light of God Where it shone above That smote him down to the sod, Set my foot on his breast And with holy might. Love-sent and manifest. Slew him of woman-right, O soul of me! O ancient mystery! O triumph of Joy to Light! II ARGUMENT "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul." — Genesis, II., 7. The Woman, having lost Love, finds herself in an interminable darkness. She meets Eve, and they go together in quest of Love. They encounter Aphrodite [the soul of Woman) , zvho accompanies them. Their search is impeded by Pallas Athene {the unsexed mind of Woman). She, wishing to show them how futile their search is, requests Aphrodite to call tip Helen {Beauty); Andromache {Wifely Devotion) ; CEnone {Passion) ; and Hecuba {Motherly Love). These women bring Love with them from out the Dust. They all turn upon Pallas, zvho flees, moaning. Eve and the Woman go on alone, meeting the Virgin Mother and Mary Magdalen. These, too, bring Love zvith them. Left alone again, the Woman realizes the Beauty of her ozvn Soul and Purpose, and finds Love everywhere. 12 MAN AND WOMAN FAR through a thicket of impervious gloom, I wandered, weary, footsore, and alone, Bowed with the memories of many griefs. To seek in solitude my soul's release. Voices of terror followed me and fled Deep down the hollows of departing light, And, ever and anon, shrill echoes went Up to the branches of the sombrous trees. Festooned fantastically, here and there, With vine and creeper of enormous bulk. Full-falling, with a roar, wild waters poured O'er jagged rocks and precipices grim; And there enveloped In a massive coil Of matted nettles, interlaced with leaves, I sank imprisoned with a shuddering scream. Fiends fumbled at my flesh and strange shapes moved Backward and forward In the sightless dark, I shrieked in horror, "Set me free again;" But the vines bit Into my soft, white skin. Then loud upon the night there rose a storm. Lightning and thunder In tempestuous roar, Crashing the trees about me in despair. While, dying, ever yet the more I lived. 13 MAN AND WOMAN Alone was I, lost utterly to life, Though all my senses in an anguish shook, And, on my head, each fine and separate hair Stung like an arrow thrust into my brain. "Whence came I here? and how? and why?" I asked. "Earth, Earth, my sorrow ease, or draw me in. Where is my love in this Cimmerian murk? Why comes he not to mitigate these pangs?" Like mighty pinions pounding me to dust, The winds uplifted me and crushed me down, Shouting in scorn of my unhappy plight, "You have no love in this Death-tortured place, Helpless as we that make a sport of you." One with the wind, the darkness and the earth, I burst at length my bonds, and on I fled, Till, running wildly to more level land Where, in a mist, I fancied stood my love, Methought I saw two hosts of children sway. Face to white haggard face, with weapons keen Destroying Beauty in each other there. "Stop, stop," I cried. But wilder grew the storm. Whining and roaring with a noise of swords That pierced my bones like daggers of Despair; And, rushing onward, mid the hosts I fell. I cried again and bade them come and take Milk of white life from me and live once more; 14 MAN AND WOMAN But, answering not, they wheeled into the mist . . . Men armed for battle trampled over me; Their whirring wheels and horses rode me down, Crushing Love under them, and Hope and Joy. And still I wailed, "Come back from Death to Life;" But my weak voice was lost within the storm. At length the outblown tempest lulled to calm, All-sudden silence; and I saw afar A single planet shooting beads of fire Low down into the gloomy vales of Death. I moved to it. A gentle sound of sobs Arose upon the air, still cold from rain; And by the ruins of a mouldering tower. Crusted with broken gems and shards of pearl, Whereon the faint light breathed a quiet glow, A woman sat, black-hooded, desolate. There was no colour in her still, calm face. Her eyes were lustreless as if in grief Of some lost Beauty of another world; And her hands drooped in comfortless despair. She lifted from the earth her sad, white gaze. Met my wild eyes, and from her slender throat Shook the slow sobbings that my ears had heard. Behind her, like a god that mourned in stone. The ivied column of a temple rose 15 MAN AND WOMAN Crumbling in solitude; and lizards crept Slow o'er the grasses where the shrine had stood. Her suffering called to me; and sinking down Upon the sighing leaves I spake to her. "I am a shepherdess of Earth," I said, "Lost in these regions of enchanted dark. The silent senses of my soul are torn; And nought can give them balm within this place. O keeper of the drearness, take me hence. Lead me, O, lead me to my own dear love; For the mad airs bemock us utterly And I no more know any comforting." A mournful sound, as of the wings of birds Pursued for centuries through rain and mist By darts and arrows of unerring flight, Came to my ears, low-beating, bitterly. Music, too quiet for an earthly air, Swam all about, melodious as sleep; And timidly the woman moved to me And kissed me strangely on each pallid cheek. No word she breathed. It seemed as if those lips Silenced for aeons could not move again; But the warm youth that fed the fire in mine Revived remembrance in her quivering heart. i6 MAN AND WOMAN "Alack," she sighed . . . The very air wailed low, Gathering that sorrow as it touched the dark. Her hair and garment, seeming part of it, Shook to the moan, o'erburdened as with pain. "Who art thou, woman?" Far I leaned to look; But, dim, inscrutable as Isis old. She raised a veil of mist about her face. I felt my being with short tremors quake As, bending to the earth, I cried again, "O mother. Mother Earth, give me your aid. Who is this woman?" . . . Soft the Dust made cry: "Speak kind and low, for she is Eve, my wife." I clung to her. I clasped her to my heart. "Mother of me and mine," I gently said, "Raise, then, from off this mound your fairest self And take me back into my world again. There men are laughing softly in content. The rose is nodding to a dimpled child. Dancing white-footed by the garden wall; And on the sand the shell and bucket shine. All little lovely things leap to the sky, Lambs, leaves and children running, on and on. O, take me back again, for there my love Goes to the ripple of the dawn's fresh song. Sweet Mother Eve, this darkness stifles me. O, lead me out, that I may live again." 17 MAN AND WOMAN "Alack." Her lips in double torment moved. Up rose a stinging sigh as of long pain, While at my feet the ever breathing Dust Panted some speech that all her body heard. She took my hand. She rose from that sad mound. How small, how slender were her perfect limbs! Beauty, who shaped them, fashioned all so fair She fell enamoured of her hand's own work. Remaining there for ever with her dream. Then Eve in silence drew me through the gloom High up a stony hill, and, pointing down Into a valley, dimmed by many mists, She showed me all the daughters of the Dark. I looked. A melancholy train went by. Night-haired, night-shrouded down the vapoury way. Some strove to reach us; and to these sweet Eve, Hollowing her dimpled hands, called long and far A deep-voiced message as of strength and hope. But they slipped back into polluted depths, F'alling and fluttering from the stony heights Like flocks of bats, fear-winged with helplessness. "Alack, Alack," pierced Eve's long mother-cry As hand in hand we hurried down the steep; But when we reached the Valley of Lost Souls i8 MAN AND WOMAN A child sat whistling on a lily leaf. He blew us gentle kisses as he smiled And vanished, laughing, through the heavy gloom. "O Eve, sweet Mother Eve, let us away," I whispered her; "for I am all af eared Of shapes too strange, whose ominous, cold eyes Recall dead memories that once I knew — Wild melodies, wind-gathered out of space, And the low wail of light. Let us away." Her only answer was that low lament That made a night-cold echo in my blood As through the hollow wearily we went, I stumbling, and she treading quietly O'er the cool grass which spake to her in sleep. "O Eve, fair Mother Eve," I wept at length, "Too bitter chill it grows. Guide me to light. O, guide me to the glow where waits my love. Come back, come back into his realm again. O, give me him whose loss has left me here Wandering for ever through this vale of pain Filled with the oozy odours of old Death. Sweet Mother Eve, my woman-being throbs With the hot tumult of insurgent grief; And out and out my hapless spirit yearns 19 MAN AND WOMAN Even to the blazing galleries of God. He will be calling me a century, Weary with waiting in the little world, Moaning and weeping to the empty air: 'Give back my dearest. Hear! ye awful ones.' 0 Eve, great Mother Eve, will you not come? 1 need him, prisoned in this darksome place Which dims my memory with its mysteries." My holy impulse stirring at her will, All-living Eve high raised her hands to heaven; But her grave orbs, as if beholding there Some torment terrible, with sorrow brimmed; And up and up, cleaving aloft the wide And stately barriers of heaven, that cry, "Alack, alack," lifted and leapt along. I shivered, clutched, close-fingered, at her robes, And deep within me welled unhappy tears. Like some black cloud that on a mountain peak Rests ere the storm breaks, screaming, on the earth, She stood a moment and then made to fly. But the kind Dust held fast her moveless feet; And solemnly and slow I heard its voice : "Stay, wife, and lead the damsel to her love." MAN AND WOMAN She smothered up her moan and bent mild brows Low to that Dust in trembling fealty. From both her eyes, dew-heavy with their woe, Slow drops down-spilled upon the waiting earth Which drank the flooding sorrow as it fell. I held my breath, seeing my mother stoop So to her timeless lord beneath her feet. He crooned a quiet love. He gently moved. He seemed to kiss each flutter of her robe, Each breath, each ringlet of her flowing locks, Murmuring sweet-toned and very clear and true. As oft my love unto my tranced ear, "Lead her. Beloved, to her waiting love." Straightway she put her arm about my neck, Warm, mother-soft, leading me down through folds Of icy air and up a snow-cold hill, The while I heard a roar of turbid floods And moaned: "Where is my love? The very Dust Has left us and this quiet snow will freeze Blood unto bone. O Mother, keep your word To your own love and bring me to my dear!" Speechless, she bore me on by icy ways It seemed for asons of old centuries, Until at last we came by shaggy plains Out on an awful waste of stone and rock And went down banks of shadowy grass and flowers Unto the gloomy borders of the sea. 21 MAN AND WOMAN Such desolation since the dawn of Time, When from the waving waste of naked mists Bare came the earth, no eye of mortal fear Had ever looked upon. The sea was cold, Grey as a midnight moon in winter rain. And still, as if a hand had stayed its life With pulseless touch of deathly wizardry. A broken boat upon the long beach lay; And higher up, where all the shelly land Groped to a palm-grove, through the sandy ridge, A shattered sail flapped slowly in the wind. If ever on that shore the painted keel Of trading-craft or fishing-smack ran in. No relic now remained. And on the sea, Though argosies of gold and pirate barks Once filled the morning with the crew's "Ahoy," With hempen cables straining at the pier And mast and rigging rattling into speed. Now all was silent, save where roved a shape Wringing wild sorrow from her weak, white hands. Chanting a lamentation of lost lutes — Dear lutes that filled the pauses of swift Time — She wandered near to me. O, woe of years ! Her eyes were shut; but her warm hands and feet Moving among the darknesses, she saw Within her breathing mind each thing she touched. Tears stung my sobbing heart. I could not speak; MAN AND WOMAN But Eve, close-looking in my misted eyes, Divined my thoughts; and as the night-blind shape Glided the lovely lyric of her soul Nearer to us, she whispered at my ear. So, coming nigh, I knew her where she walked. "It is young Aphrodite, Eve," I sighed, "Roaming the seashore in her exiled grief. I dare not speak with her; and yet, perchance. She knows my love and where he lingers now. Call to her, Mother, for her spirit-song Would vanish at my voice." But, as I spake. Lone Aphrodite came upon us both And paused. I sank upon my knees, pain-faint. For a long sorrow hung about her limbs And her rose feet glowed out like bruised flowers From the cold sand. I gave them of my tears, Praying her ease. And when I looked again I saw that Eve, in sorrow at the sight. Had drawn the goddess to her mother-heart. Then slowly, sadly, in a music old, I heard a ripple of low song flow forth From the curved lips, red pencilled as on stone. "Who calls me back from my lone self again? I mind not now my home within the Dust, For the warm thought of my first love is sweet 23 MAN AND WOMAN As when among the blossoms flushed with dawn I saw him piping to his quiet flock. I sighed all day upon the hills of heaven, For the gods wearied me with sport and play; But the bright shepherd in old mornings green Filled me with longing for his singing soul; And so upon a dawn of yellow light Down to his mead I came, and drank his life. O Women, I have suffered in content Who filled the happy mortal with Love's pain. But bid me not recall my miseries. The cries of those I loved and could not help; The sweets departed and the joys expired; For my wild heart has made me partly earth And I have lost my great celestial power. Sometimes I think I was most woman. Eve, Who let her senses overrule her thought For the quick pleasure of the body's needs. Be kind as your lord Dust and bid me not Remember all again. But who is this?" Her wandering hands, feeling before my face, Half touched and half passed over me. I spoke. "I am a shepherdess of Earth," I said, "Lost in these regions of unhallowed dark. The storm encompassed me. Strange phantoms came 24 MAN AND WOMAN Out of the wilderness of howling wind And led my steps to Eve, who seemed as lost And frighted as myself in that strange place. And so I wept aloud like some small child, And bade her lead me to my world again Where the white beauty of the spring is ripe And the green meadows frolic to the sun. I bade her take me to my own dear love Who seeks me even now through dell and down, By cities old and villages pink-pileci With sunset clouds and rainbow radiance. But nowhere yet has light come unto me. Save that, when now you sighed in that wild way, I thought my love was leaning to my heart, Kissing the white, smooth glory of my skin. Dear goddess, he has slept upon my breast And worshipped me so often and so long. Here has he left the fragrance of his breath. Here his soft hand has strayed, and whispering lips. Touching this throat, low-sighed and sighed again : 'Girl-goddess of my heart, I have a thought Not even Aphrodite was as you.' You weep. O cease." I turned to Mother Eve. "Find we my love, for he will ease all this. His tenderness will open these shut eyes. His pity and compassion soothe the flow 25 MAN AND WOMAN Of such unchecked distress. O Mother Eve, See how she sinks. How have I pained her heart? O, my hard tongue has hurt the spirit-soul That wedded rapture to the early Dust." In sorrow Aphrodite seemed to droop, But the Dust opened its soft mouth and cried: "Comfort, my fairest. Take her to her love. I called you not to earth against your will." A clear light fell on Aphrodite's face. She groped and, smiling, lit us through the dark. Thus we three passed. I, shepherdess of Earth — Mere mortal in my form and shape and guise, Wracked with the fear of all earth's latest woe, Sickness and sorrow, and rank pain and death — Sweet Mother Eve, within whose gentle hands Slept the immortal anguish of the race; And Aphrodite, she whose spirit-self Breathed through us both, and in her dark eyes held The long-lost gleam of Beauty and Delight, Which, fallen from Heaven, was dead to loveless earth . . . We turned to seek my love. And now 'twas I Seemed leading that pale pair from out the gloom; For their white hands warm-folded in my own Filled me with courage; and the happy Dust, Kissed by my feet, made murmurings of hope. 26 MAN AND WOMAN I smiled : "He must be coming this way now, For all my blood is pulsing fire and song. I hear him far and far away, yet near And nearer still he comes. Perchance he leaves The happy world, and singing moves this way. Listen, sweet women, Listen ! 'Tis his step." I felt a sudden shocking of my nerves. Stabs as if jarring elements awoke Riot of ruin in my blood. I shrank. Eve trembled on my right, and on the left The hand I held closed fast and firmly tight On mine; while a high shriek gripped at my soul With, "Hide me, hide me from her awful sight." Startled, I stood and listened; but I heard Nought save their cries; and at my feet the Dust Rumbled discordance of dire agony. "What monster and what spectacle of Fear, Dread horror and false Shame comes nigh?" I asked, "That I alone keep strength in this wild hour?" They clung to me. They hid their faces white Close, close upon my breast; and, looking up. As one struck blind with lightning, I outcried. For, striding manlike o'er the rimpled sand, Her brazen helmet flashing shafts of fire, Her argent shoulders shimmering o'er a shield 27 MAN AND WOMAN On which flushed figures of young heroes shone, A warrior goddess came. About her helm, Gold serpents coiled in ire, and her long spear Lit all the darkness with such sudden light T bowed my knee for reverence of her power, Beholding there such strength of chastity As only wisdom in her high heart holds When Thought bends Force unto her holy Will. Loud hissed the serpents, spitting spume of hate. Whereat Eve shuddered out that old "Alack," And Aphrodite, shivering closer still. Moaned "Hide me; there is Avar between us yet." "Such glory of great womanhood," I said. Gazing wide-eyed upon the goddess there, "Should not so terrify us." But she laughed Like bells of brass across a blood-red sea. And loud I wailed, "O, it is Pallas come. Breeder of Wisdom, Chastity and Power, War-goddess — neither man nor woman quite — But smothering in her virgin breast the fire Of both. I am afraid, afraid as you." So we three clung together, cold with fear, While the white virgin-woman mocked us thrice. But for an instant only; for I scorned The withering anger of her eyes' hard blue; 28 MAN AND WOMAN And, sudden, drawing full to regal height, I faced her, fearless, flinging words like flame: "O Woman, in whose hands the spindle turns To tattered chords of broken hearts, stand by. Pale virgin, adamant of mind and heart, ^ These two have loved and suffered as have I; But I have scorn of you, breathing as two. Why lift the spear when your white fingers itch Hot for the spindle, and your woman's soul, Mixed In the running thread you first unwound. Yearns for the hearth and home? Oh, those stern lips To which the flute first flew, eager for song. Curl contumelious in their lack of warmth. You would be man, yet to contending arms, Vindictive, fled in woman-jealousy. You raged because, a morning long ago, The beauty of this blinded goddess charmed Man to her soul — the man you could not win. Nor shall you now win any fear from me. We go to seek my love, my true, true love. Who blames nor chides nor censures anyone." Pale Aphrodite raised her sightless eyes. At which cold Pallas turned in questioning; But stirred to wrath, and tortured that a girl Should so presume, strode angrily to me. "Be silent, shepherdess!" She mocked. I kindled. 29 MAN AND WOMAN Fast through my veins crept tides of newer scorn. But she spake on. "I do pollute my soul Thus to confer with clay corruptible. Bend down your woman-ear unto your lord The smooth, slow-breathing Dust; and moderate That too presumptuous tongue. On you as him Subjection I impose, and homage due." I leaned to Eve. "Sweet Mother," low I breathed, "She speaks all Truth, for never mother-breast Fostered her infancy. Full-armed she came; Being all reason, mind and subtle force. She ne'er will feel our pangs. O, let us on. How should she know aught of my dearest love. When no man yet has hung above her lids Nor tasted sweetness on her pouted lips? She does but wear the semblance of our shape. Limbs that are lithe in look, but bloodless, chill. At her hard breasts no babe has ever slept Nor set a dimpled hand upon her cheek!" "Woe, woe," pale Aphrodite cried again, "The memories, the memories are mine. O Pallas, leave us. Turn your eyes away; Enough of sorrow has my conquest won." 30 MAN AND WOMAN But Pallas brandished high her spear, and loud Her armour clanged, as, seeming not to hear That which she heard, her accents brake again. No woman softness charmed them, nor sweet song. Courage had hardened chastity in her To such firm virtue, only strength seemed good. Mind ruled her heart and close-control was queen Of body, soul and being to the depths. "O Cytherea," rang her cold, slow tones, "I speak not to these women of the Dust, Vouchsafing audience to that which drowsed Sense-easy in the languor of content Before you came. Such speech were impotent; But unto you, whose punishment Is meet, I speak, because of knowledge you have fear. How well do I recall that golden hour When first to high Olympus glade you sailed. Wind-blown; and how we all rose worshipping — Not jealous, for your round, sweet beauty shook All malice into tears of bliss. You fell. From that Imperial realm of cloudy power, Guarded by gods, regal, omnipotent. You turned your eyes to baser things, and down. Deep down to this abominable Death Where dust to Dust returns eternally You dragged the light, the glory that was ours 31 MAN AND WOMAN Till in your fall all gods were as the Dust. But Man, whom wc had watched so close, and hoped By counsel of calm thought and argument To lead hy paths divine to greater deeds — Deeds of the Will made servant to Control — That far ahove the tempest and the stress His soul should soar triumphant in command, Leaned to your luring lights, and, learning love, Forgot the way . . . Forgot . . , and left you blind. Your hair is dank. Your eyes will never more Watch the dawn spread along Olympian lawns, Nor your fair feet trip down the ancient dance; For Man has violated vow on vow Who gave to weakling Fove life's empery. What would your Paris say could he return And see you where you stand beside that girl, Bold as a boy in speaking out to me, And sick with Love's impatience of desire?" Her voice was hard but sorrowful; and Eve, Moving to me, low-whispered, "Let us on." I could not stir. My eyes were moist with dew, And all the wind muted with Love's despair, Lifted the sad, long, locks of the blind queen And mingled them with mine. Ah, how she wept! Yet never drops from the shut eyes fell down. And I cried shrill, "O Pallas, stand aside. 32 MAN AND WOMAN Go, ply your woman work in quiet peace, Nor make reproach again; for by my love I'll vanquish all my woman-tenderness And match myself with you upon this sand. Strong am I shielded with my own white breast. Your spear is pointless. What my love has pressed Of his dear strength into my heart has force To fight and triumph in Love's cause divine. Take heed, O Pallas, how you stir a girl Whose soul is fired with such a love as mine!" 'Truth," whispered Aphrodite, "She speaks Truth, And still I crv it in my agony : 'I love Man still above the golden gods Who chose m.e, shining from their lustrous throng In Beauty empty as a painted vase.' " Thereat was Pallas angry; but the Dust Stirred at our feet. Deep in my heart I smiled, Saying: "O, heed her not, companions dear; My love is near and he is seeking us, Since we could never find him in this dark. He comes. He comes. The Dust has murmured it. What matter that I lost myself this hour? What matter that the stoiTn wept tears of blood, And in the valley of the dark, low down, I saw the hosts of children fight and die? . . . 33 MAN AND WOMAN My love is coming. He will seek us out. He will not leave us to this insult here; And these stern words of Pallas will be naught. Let us go on and meet him as he comes." Great Pallas frowned. The golden serpents coiled About her helmet hissed again. She cried, "Peace ! purblind minion. Look on Love you laud Blinded and bruised by battle not her task, But drawn to it by zeal to save her joys From my indomitable will and law." "O, spare me, spare me," Aphrodite moaned. "Spare you?" The ominous sharp question shook Wrath as tumultuous as thunder-claps Upon the startled banners of the night. "Summon the ruined shades of yesterday Who passed through your weak will and learn if they Know aught of this girl's love; for proud she seems, Heaven-yearning, though earth-born and obstinate. If any of that pallid company Who, being dead, know all, can bring her here Tidings of him she seeks, I shall relent. Put up my shield of war and ply instead The woman loom of peace. Recall them now." But Aphrodite moaned. "No, no. Bring not The lonely curse of the lone dead again. All sound would hollow to the dirge of death 34 MAN AND WOMAN At Helen's haunting voice; and, O my soul! Each woman whose dear lord fell in the wars By your great enmity compounded long With Earth, would torture me again. Forbear. O, being wise in ways of man, lead us Unto this damsel's love, for so the Dust, Great Eve's great lord, having strange hold on me. Hath ordered it. I conjure you by Zeus, By all the memory of my first glad hours In his high realm, spare me the dark-eyed dead. O, the Greek women and wan Trojans' wives. Whose lords I could not save because of you, Know not this damsel's love. For I, myself, Until I met her with Life's mother here Ne'er knew her. But her longing for her love Drew me from the cold deeps wherein I slept, And my heart moved to her. O, lead her on. Mayhap you have her lover cold in pain Upon your battle-field; for I perceive By the hot vigour of your pulses now. War wakes in some unhappy place; and, where Such torment of dull danger stalks and stabs, Man stays. O, do not stoop to strike him low As once my loveliest, in Ilium. Spare him for her sweet sake who called to me, And for great Mother Eve who bore the child." 35 MAN AND WOMAN Sullen and silent, Pallas looked at me. Her eyes scorched all my soul, and woke therein s Contempt for her too solemn strength and power Where passion could not leap, with heedless joy, Down the calm cheeks that lips had never touched. And my heart ached for her who spake for me So much that I replied, "O, fear her not; Dear Aphrodite, bid the women come. For great Eve mothered them as she did me; And this same Dust whereon we stand in awe Has kissed their feet and known them wise and fair. Pallas is jealous still; and that poor fault Turns all her law to tumult, and makes vain Her talk of deeds. My mother here is yours. Through the earth-mother of your man-made child, And she is more than Pallas and her scorn." And Eve confirmed my words, all dignified, Creeping a little where the Dust was thick; For she felt murmurs of sweet joy and sounds That thrilled within it to her listening ears. "The Dust, my husband, is awake," she said; "He sleeps not, nor can Pallas silence him. Let Aphrodite call my children forth From the closed tomb that you may speak to them." So, comforted by Eve, who, meek and still. 36 MAN AND WOMAN Surveyed the warrior goddess with mild eyes, Through the dark worlds blind Aphrodite called. It was a soft, sad wail, low-toned and slow, That pealed aloft till all the winds and seas Took it up tremblingly and bore it on; While Pallas crossed to Eve, but shrank away. That matron-breast, that full, broad mother-brow Sent sighings of earth-longings through her frame. But Eve spake very gently: "Warrior queen, I am the mother of all living men, And if I spake not when you chid my child 'Twas that the cunning serpents on your helm Recalled the world-old memory of sin. I, too, have fallen as this goddess blind Out of an Eden fairer than you knew; And men have fallen with me, since my lord Was but the Dust and is and shall be still. But hither come my daughters; see them rise Up from the grave of Dust. Here Helen comes, CEnone, and Andromache, pale yet From her wild weeping with the Argive hosts. And last comes Hecuba. O, hear them speak. If they know aught of this earth-woman's love, Lost to her, so she says, for centuries." 37 MAN AND WOMAN With wondering eyes I watched the moving groups Bear slowly down to us across the sands; And all the while the sea set up a moan Like ages of dark sorrow broken loose, Making dread Pallas start, since well she knew That cold sea, soaked in silence for so long, Still stirred to Aphrodite; and those shades Traversing down the misty midnight shores Were Love's, if ever Love owned aught of Life. How calm, how quietly the women came, Feet-weary even as I, reluctant, pale! But when they reached us I was all amazed At her who led them, for her gracious mien Made the divine companions seem as ghosts. Stars rippled at her white foot's stately fall Lighting that black, interminable realm With rainbow-radiance of pellucid air Till the great sea, the living Dust and sky Sang in communion with an ancient joy Of her and all the beauty that was hers. Helen it was, fair as the first June morn. Brows braided with great pearls and that gold hair Clothing her wondrous body like a cloak. In awe I gazed, as often in a room, Lighted with many jewels, where there comes MAN AND WOMAN Through rows of painted cheeks and pink-white limbs A lovely woman, good as beautiful, And the room gasps, hushed as by heavenly fire. I marvelled not that they who followed her Bent as in worship; for her least white thumb Was fashioned to a music of the flesh Beyond all sculptors' dreams of long ago. Within her eyes, grey-sweet beneath their lids, The evening and the morning met and kissed. Midnight was there and sorrow of the dawn, Yet she was neither sad nor mournful bent, But as a goddess stepped erect and tall, Holy in body as in true mind wise. And with a laugh that brought a sound like waves Wimpling among the rushes to the shore She looked at Pallas as in questioning. Bowed to eternal Eve, and, passing me Unnoticed, let her long gaze rest in tears On Aphrodite's too unhappy face. She made to speak, but from the troop of shades Qinone brushed beside her and, aloud, Lifting her troubled voice as in dead years, Cried with the woeful anguish of her soul: "What does the wounded goddess need of me? Methinks Qlnone might be left in peace 39 MAN AND WOMAN That the hot smarts of your false pride and sin Have time to cool in her safe home of Dust Where Paris is nor hers nor Helen's now Nor any other woman's, and the feud Of gods is all forgotten. Do you come That you may open all my wounds again, As on that wild, white day when your ripe charms You hid within fair Helen's breast and wooed Her from her husband's side to my dear love? I hated you that hour; but Death makes wise The river-god's wild daughter; and I see By your pale face and frail and shuddering limbs You too have suffered. What is then your will?" I answered: "O CEnone, it is I Who seek my love. Speak if you know of him." "I know no love save Paris, my own lord, Who kept his sheep upon the leafy hills As I came singing through the morning air, Younger than he who was so young and blithe. The oldest shepherd on old Ida's peaks Nursed him for me; and flushed with happiness He kissed me as we ran among the woods. O, the sweet playtime, born of childhood sport! We raced the morning wind; and in and out Among the dewy grass and strong, straight pines 40 MAN AND WOMAN Shouted and chased long laughter into life. Now he pursued, now I. O wild, wild youth ! 0 joy of rippling blood and rushing hearts, Singing to madness underneath the leaves 1 laced about my breasts to please his play. 7111 that close night he drew me down to him And I heard nothing save the Mysian air Shouting in triumph as his happy lips Kissed me for joy, for boyish joy and love. Then sudden, strange unearthly pleasures struck Straight through my breasts and fluttered maddeningly My whole young being through, while Paris cried 'Kiss me, QEnone, take me unto you. I die ... I die . . . Kiss me again, again.' So, leaning over him I saw him faint And took him to my soul and learned Love's pang. O memories too dear," she sighed in tears." And Pallas, curling her white virgin lips. Drew her clear shield farther away from her — As if the sound of passion, deep and true, Surrendering to Love its blood and wine Contaminated her and bred pure scorn. But Aphrodite hid her blinded eyes, And the hot anger at QEnone's heart Cooled quickly ere her slower speech began. "You sent that shiver through my frame of Youth, 41 MAN AND WOMAN O goddess, and your pulses were In mine As down I drew my lord and drank sweet pain From his soft breast, virgin till then as mine — Else would we two in happy, childish love Have sported long on Ida. Woe, oh, woe ! The hate of Helen bit into my bones, For her chaste beauty took him from my side; And Paris gave her all his sweetness then — And mine — mine too. For did he not take me, My love, my passion and my life with him To Menelaus' court. O goddess pale. How easily do women follow you And burn their souls out in your woeful dream." She turned from Aphrodite sick at heart. "O cruel," she cried on. "He left my side. Barren and aching were my heart and soul. Barren my breast and barren my red lips. While I roamed up and down among the pines Beating my head upon my burning hands, Wailing, 'The Greek, the Greek feeds on my soul.' And, as I wept, through all my skin I felt Lashes of hate and lurid jealousy Till then unknown in happy heart and breast. O goddess, how I loathe you for your share. And now you call me that a love-sick girl Should mock my breaking heart, again, again." 42 MAN AND WOMAN "O dark QEnone, blame her not," I said. "I never knew your Paris nor such pain. But many a time beneath the green, old trees And in the rounded garden of our home Have I known such a lover — yet not such — More sweet and tender and more true to me. My playmate never once has touched my soul Nor would without returning me his own ; Nor any fairer beauty, wise and bright, Could woo him from my side who holds me first. Blame not sweet Aphrodite, whom great Zeus Made freer than his winds and gave no guide." CEnone sighed; and soft, Andromache, Low-bowing her small head in heavy grief, Full-wearily to Aphrodite spake : "I have but little pity left; and yet, Because upon the fatal field where late My lord with stern Achilles madly fought You stayed to help, I do approach you here. I should have thought that all my suffering Had spared me from this bleak return to earth. You were my friend and Hector's many years. We warmed your altar with our love by night; And all the day I toiled for my dear lord. 43 MAN AND WOMAN Feeding his horses, and, if need there were. Shining their brave, bright armour, that the straps Might as they clung to their sleek sides give strength For my true love, to bear him safely through. But, O, how bitter was your false return. When from the bloody field the furious Greek Dragged my dear lord, my life, my Hector, dead. I knew no satyr-dalliance of mad lust As this wild oread left to mourn her mate. I was his wife, O goddess, and I sat Still with his child upon my knees in peace, Broidering with golden thread the purple robes. Keeping his hearth and home with gentle pride; And on that dire and dreadful day I stayed Heating his bath and waiting with the oils. When from the Scaean gate the shouts came thick 'Hector is killed. Woe, woe is Troy'. . . I ran. I gathered up my robe and fled hot-eared Along the walls, and saw the priceless limbs That I had thought to bathe torn through the dust — The hair that I had hoped to comb, blood-red. Tied to Achilles' wheel; and round and round The screaming walls three times they dragged him, slain." Hereat she drooped. But weeping spake once more : "I felt no more from that day to my last. 44 MAN AND WOMAN I wept not when the Argives slew my child And bore me captive to their hated land. I felt no more, being but shell of earth; For Hector took my soul with him to rest — My dearest lord, true husband and chief friend. So, goddess, bid me speak not any more. I never knew a man save my dear lord. The flower of Troy, my Hector, blood of me. How should I know aught of a young girl's love. Who stands there weeping now as if I roused Life in her heart?" "And so you do," I said. But she heard not; at which I turned away. Then Hecuba, the grey-haired Trojan queen. Bent from her shoulders to her shuffling feet. Tore from her worn, lean breasts her bondage robes And cursed the goddess in an anguished hate. "What power," she said, "false goddess, have you left That from my grave you bring me weeping forth To beat again the withered breasts at which My children's lips have plucked? Where is my king. My Priam, who was father of my flock? O, when I struck upon these shrivelled paps And begged my boys to cease, he stayed them not From the grim fight. I saw my children die, Till, as the dull voice of an aching womb, 45 MAN AND WOMAN I cried in memory of all my pangs: 'My sons, my sons! O, give them to me, Zeus!' But agony on anguish crying down. None spared them; so my sons were killed for you. I curse you, goddess, for your triumph then. I curse you for the sons of all the land. I curse you in my life and in my death, For Love that can breed war is only Hate. I curse you in the Dust which gives me rest. And shout its curses for my sons — my sons. I offered up my life and soul for them. I loved them, taught them your sweet tasks to do; And, for this Greek, you sacrificed them all. O Zeus, Zeus!" High she flung her arms aloft — "That all the walls of Troy were here again, And every stone a voice to cry its curse Thick on this woman-goddess, 'Hate! hate! hate!' That nevermore might earth behold her rule .... It is in vain. She brings me back from death Because I loved my sons and king, and she Blew the first breath of Love into them all. O cruel Love ! O sense beyond all sense ! Feeling too terrible to live or die ! Young child," she turned to me, "give up Love's quest. Sorrow and tears, dull agony and woe Await the watcher on the trembling tower. O Zeus ! my sons ! my sons ! Torn is my heart. 46 MAN AND WOMAN Come back ! come back into your mother's arms ! My babes, my boys, my little ones come back. Too cruel love, too bitter, bitter pangs ! Zeus! Zeus! my sons! my sons!" Crying, she fell. "Forbear, forbear! O Hecuba, forbear!" Bright Helen rushed and soothed her to her heart. While drooping Aphrodite clung to Eve, Faint with the curse of that old mother's woe. *' 'Tis Pallas who so killed your boys," she said, "She who loves naught of women; but will stand Stalwart as now in any bloody plain And smile as Youth and Beauty fall by Might. Come, curse not Aphrodite; for my heart Warmed to your son, my Paris, ere she came; Even before he chose her, fairest one. Before this Trojan oread kissed his limbs I loved and worshipped him in vales afar. Before the dawn first shone on Ida's peak, Before Olympus thundered or the throne Of Zeus rose on the wreck of Saturn's realm, Before the Titan fell or Orpheus sang Did I love Paris. For in blessed isles. Behind the breaking of the midmost dawn He sang his passion through my listening soul. He, being perfect lover, poet-king, A shepherd by his will, a prince of love, Came to me there again at Sparta's court. 47 MAN AND WOMAN Hearing of Ida from his singing lips, How could the bond of Menelaus hold? I loved him for his beauty and his song — Beauty to Beauty has since dawn been wed — And was he not full worthy woman's love Who spurned the spear and dagger for my heart, Who mocked at Power and Wealth and kingship too For the fresh sweetness and the truth of Love? Prince and yet shepherd, how he mocked the gods Offering him Asia, all its gems and gold. I never knew but one love. It was he Who spurned the purple for the rose of peace. I gave myself to Love for Beauty's sake. Be brave, great mother, for your great son's sake Who slew for you your Hector's vaunting foe." But Hecuba, pouring the balm of dust Fast on her hair, spake in her moaning voice : "My sons, my sons! my babes, my boys, my boys!" Swiftly sweet Aphrodite with a sigh Fled into Helen's arms, and at her touch The blind eyes opened and the goddess saw. I felt the Dust tremble about my feet. Voices seemed breathing, "Beauty wakes to Love." And ashen Pallas, staring at those eyes. Translucent, clear, took instant fear and shrank. 48 MAN AND WOMAN "Let her not fly," cried Eve, "for she has said That she will set her mighty spear aside And answer to her woman-soul as we, Knowing my youngest daughter's youngest love." "O earth-small women," Pallas, sneering, said, "Ruled by your craven hearts with Love and Guile. My mind shall triumph o'er eternal Dust, And all your lovers and your sons be mine; For, having minds, how should they know this maid?" "Nay, mine," shrilled Aphrodite, "they are mine. Love, Love is greater than all thought and will." Then the wan women brightened as the sky Cleansed by the rain. The Dust rumbled delight. "Stay, stay," I said, "and let me swiftly speak. These women know my love; for in each tale Some memory of him I catch and hold. He being dearest, sweetest of all men. Winner of every battle that his soul Charging at midnight, or at dying dawn On the fierce plains of Reason and Resolve Wins with the armour of his naked heart. By the low Dust in which all have their birth Let us be strong, so that we rid mankind Of this pale image of a woman here. Pallas, away and be your woman-self! 49 MAN AND WOMAN Let down the stern, thick mask of might and find Beneath the battle triumphs and the strength Your woman sweetness, that the goddess true In your great limbs all womanly may shine With a mild courage that is more than force. Master of all, be mistress of yourself. Guarding the sweetness that is wisdom's best." She frowned. She fought with us. But we were strong. Breaking her spear and shaking down her shield — We — all the women of the weary earth, Filled with high love to dare the mighty task. To rive the spirit that had wrought us wrong — A man's thought battened on a woman's soul. She fought a space, then vanished with a moan — The first short woman-wail of her defeat. A shouting, shrill with joy, went up from all; And when the air grew finer with that joy Those women with a holy meaning sank Back to the Dust from which they late had come, But where the lovely Helen sank to earth, Rose-cheeked and laughing in her youthful prime, Young Aphrodite smiled upon us both. Then she too passed; and I and Mother Eve Were all alone once more upon the shore. 50 MAN AND WOMAN But now a fairer light broke o'er the land, Fragrant with paradisal balm and myrrh; And the sea sang through moving folds of blue Along the beaches and the shelly caves. Nor was the air too cold, nor yet Eve sad. "I have not found my love," I said to her, "But, throbbing wonder into heart and soul, I feel fine fires that thrill me through and through. My love is more than friend and love to me, Than son or husband, sweetheart, lord or mate. He is all these and god as well, I think. These women did not know quite all my love." Eve smiled. "Because of me they did, my child. In me your happy love once had his birth. But question you these daughters coming now." Lights hurried over all the land and sea. Dawn flushed in many-coloured rings of flame. The sand about our feet grew green with grass. And birds were whistling merrily o'erhead. Slowly came two white women to us there. The first was but a light, or seemed as such. And round her hair the aureole was spread. The other, with a placid smile and sweet, Attended her; and in my deepest joy I saw the Virgin Mary moving down, Where that great warrior goddess late had stirred. 51 MAN AND WOMAN And for her shield she had her milk-white breast On which the Christ Child once had meekly lain; And for her spear, that white and tender arm Which oft had cradled Him to gentle sleep. "O Eve," I said, "too holy is this place. I must not stay." But swift, she answered back: "Mary is my own daughter, whom God gave That primal sin of Woman to redeem, Which I, the sinner and the temptress, wrought Within the old, sweet garden of the East. Be not afraid. She is the mother-heart Of woman's soul, and she must know your love. She gave a Son that all might live in Him, As all must tiie through my lord Dust and me." Gravely with her that other Mary came. Shriven by Love. The Virgin beamed on me; And Mary Magdalen spoke, softly sweet: "What do you seek, O little one of earth? What need have you of me, whose name the world Once made a sca,rlet shame upon its lip Till He came by — the Man of Nazareth? Painted and smooth my cheeks, stained red as blood. And all my long, thick hair scented and decked, I hurried when I heard that He was come Into Jerusalem again from far. 52 MAN AND WOMAN "Amid my servants I awaited Him, Hidden a little lest the pious blame; Then went along the street drunk with high hope; With happy thought of woman witchery. Far off I saw Him coming with a crowd, A motley throng who hung upon His words. Men, women, children — a vast multitude. Nearest to Him were little ones. And some I knew; for there was Mary, likest me — Called after me when that good nam.e was pure — My sister's child. One tender finger-tip Of that wise, gentle hand she held in hers And laughed from out her curls at some soft word. Beyond the city walls He went to speak In Simon's garden; and they hurried there, Scoffer, disciple, scribe and Pharisee. A woman near me laughed in coarse disdain. His mild ecstatic look, and that meek mien With which He paced the placid way, had moved Her scorn of that she could not understand. But I laughed not, nor did I speak at all. The sinful wish that shook my wretched heart Died at His sight. Maybe it was the child Holding His finger that so silenced me. For, when the crowd drew nearer in the street And at first glance of me the matrons stern 53 MAN AND WOMAN Raised cries of loathing and of woman-hate, He stopped them ; and He bade me come to Him. Each step I took, young blood flushed through my veins; Sins slipped away from me and were no more; And, ere He touched me with that gentle Hand, All evil thoughts were gone and I was pure. "I know not how such miracle was wrought; But, looking up into His face, I loved. And all at once I heard the bubbling speech Of children; and once more I was a child, Dancing with little naked feet in play Upon the leafy cedar lanes of home, Running beneath the olive down the hill To meet the sunny river laughingly. It seemed my very flesh fell from me there As I breathed in the air which held His breath. I breathed it, mark you that. I touched His feet; And nevermore felt any pain of pulse. Passion or hungry sense gnaw at my heart For food of shame? I went as one reborn And followed the clear prints of His loved feet. Henceforth my palace in the cypress grove Was cold as its white marble; and the flowers, Roses and lilies set with myrtles dark. And all the fragrant purple violets, brought 54 MAN AND WOMAN To me from Rome by lords of that rich realm, Called me amongst them, murmuring 'Leave this place. Set the rare jewels on the temple steps. Put on a simple raiment, Magdalen, And lay aside the Tyrian robe and pearl. Tie the loose latchet and go through the streets To Him; for He would rather tend and fold A lost lamb such as you than all the rest. Go swiftly forth.' And so I followed on; And found Him in the garden shades beyond The broad, sun-silvered olives in strange peace. Afar I stood and watched Him as He spake. Although He saw me not. And last, one night, His Mother, coming through Jerusalem With friends and neighbours from far Galilee, Sav/ me, and, pausing, said all wonderingly; "O, fair are all the maids of Nazareth, But whence came you with such a lov^eliness As never yet by well or village way Was seen in Israel since Bethlehem Smiled through its barley sheaves on happy Ruth?" "My father was of Magdala," I said, "But I am she whom every matron shuns; For I had sold my beauty at a price With traffic of long shame. O Woman, peace, 55 MAN AND WOMAN The Beauty and the Goodness of my God Breathe through my face and form because your Son Spurned not the worship of the meanest soul, Which, born from His, has given me true hfe — Beauty of earth and sky and sea once more And all sweet things I knew in childhood's days. She put her arm about me, and we went Back through the soft light of the quiet streets; And thus I dwelt with her until the end." She paused and the white Virgin raised an arm Folding her close as often long ago. "My love," she spake again, "was God in Man And my soul thrilled to His; yet never reached Higher than His fair feet which trod the dust; But, as an ocean, panting from the deeps, Hugs but the thinning line of some white beach, Contentedly I touched them and was glad." She said no more, but, softly bent her head And with the Virgin trembled nearer Eve. Then the First Mother looked into those eyes With tears that loosed a common sorrow-sob. The Magdalen came closer yet to me. I said: "My love has thus redeemed me, too. Beasts bit into my flesh and lapped my blood Since it was young and sweet. But he came by 56 MAN AND WOMAN And, looking in my eyes, said: 'O, my soul, Sorrow to sorrow calls. Come, follow me.' He heals no multitudes; and yet, T think. Healing my wounds and stifling all my sins. Passion and anger, hate and fear and fire. His is the miracle of your dear Lord. I, too, once couched upon a harlot's bed. Men knew my body as a place of joy. Felt where the muscles yielded balm of sense For the coarse feeders to find plunder there. I learned my trade and knew it, passing well, So that the buyers sought me far and near Whispering: 'She is cursed, inspired and filled At once with all earth's hell and all heaven's earth — Such heaven as they could know, such hell, such earth.' From such a place my love took me and raised Life from the dead. But he was merely Man, Weak in some ways and full of little faults As often I think God Himself must be Since He can understand and leave it so. And though I love him till my death-in-life I shall not reach his height. That height God knows, Who measures all with an unerring eye." She started ; and those women on our right, Seeing each other as the other's self, Born of one God through some all-holy love, Drew nearer yet until they seemed as one — 57 MAN AND WOMAN The mother of all mortal men, and she Who made them all immortal through her Son. I marvelled and the Dust set up a song Of mystic murmuring about our feet. Then Eve, with softest whisper, said to me, "1 think your love is very near this hour." I felt strange shivers through my body pass. The Virgin and the Magdalen withdrew; And Eve, slipping her arm about me, sighed: "I, too, must go, but you, seek out your love. My youngest daughter, who are true and brave." She laid her hand upon my shoulder then And, with a cry, unlike the others fled, Sinking into the Dust whereon she stood. I was alone and naked, spent and pale. I trembled at the sight of my warm skin, So fair, so smooth; and, looking at my feet I saw that they were small and pink like shells. My limbs were lovelier than my two eyes Ever before had seen upon the earth. My round white shoulders of immortal mould Caught my soft hair afloat in filmy light. I moved. I seemed more airy than the air. Poising upon it in a misty dream. As oft a cloud about the mid of day Swings in the west all lost in happy dreams 58 MAN AND WOMAN Of the wide earth and sea which mothered it, So I seemed moving, drifting slowly there. And, lo, the sea beneath Avas singing blue. The great earth faded to a pleasajit plain Where all things living in a golden haze Mingled like rainbow banners on my sight. No flowers, since Eden flushed its thornless rose. Glowed with such glory on the branch and stem; And tall, old trees about the wide, swift sea. Slept in contentment of diviner ease. On, on I passed as blithely as a bird That flits in rapture from the topmost elm. Ruffling his feathers with the twinkling leaves Tossed in the laughter of a yellow spring. "Heigh-ho, heigh-ho," my glad lips made a sigh. "Where linger you, my love? O, come to me. I am more beautiful than all your dreams." Wild, wilder leapt my blood to sudden fire. While nerves and veins felt all the grief and joy Of those great women who had come to me. Yet glad was I, most happy and most free. The airs laughed round me with a girlish song. "Love, love," I cried, "Where are you? O come forth. I know my beauty and I claim your soul." Then with a faint, low sob I caught my breath, For at my feet the Dust moved; and I heard 59 MAN AND WOMAN "Come down to me. I am your love, your own. You are my wife, my love, and in the Dust Adam, your husband, sleeps." I thought I heard Laughter of women in among the stones; And, sudden, feeling breasts and being yearn To some unearthly passion of the world, I bent and kissed the Dust and murmured, "Love." "Dear Heart," it said, "hear but the old Earth speak And she will tell you of my love for you." I trembled as I knelt with fingers white In the thick Dust which through my pulses ran, Breathing articulately low and rich The ancient epic of all gods and men : *V am the mother of the mortal race — Mother and father, the eternal one. Immortal life am I, immortal death, ^ Life in all death, through everlasting love. From me the least and greatest have their birth; I am the earth, the footstool of my God; Sun, mist and dewdrop gather but for me. God in the sunbeam, God within the air Breathes through my being life and death at once, Ever and ever carolling me on. I am the world-wife, man's companion soul. 60 MAN AND WOMAN / am the husband, guardian of all love, Striviug and moving on eternally. I am God's dream, His island in the sea, Floating and drifting on to Light and Hope, Beauty more beautiful than Life or Death. All lands are my lands, from the north to south, Mountains of Lebanon and streets of Rome — Lakes of the last lands, islets of the first. Dream cape and headland to the end of Time. All songs are my song, voice of man and maid. Thrush call and linnet lay and skylark trill ; Bird on the top bough, cricket i)i the grass. Girl in the lighted chamber, laughing song. All dreams arc my dreams, since a dream began — White light of Heart's Desire, long hope of Heaven. Deep in my round heart throb the dreams of old — / who have listened to the world's white wish, I, who have waited watching for the light, Taking the great tears, drinking up the small, I who have harkened softly in the dark. Hearing young visions with the old sighs pass! 6i MAN AND WOMAN All thoughts are viy thoughts, for I spin and spin Heart-fire and mind-fire through the floating air, IFhilc from my fabrics and ?ny tresses dark Man builds His paradise and God ahvay." Thus breathed the Earth and made a mighty moan As the slow Dust heaved gently to my heart, "So do I travel through the happy air Ijght-iiifiged and soft-songed, sad zcith happiness. Blood tears my heart sheds; salt tears, my eyes Dancing in circles years iiithout an end. All souls are my souls, for I keep them here, Singer and spearman, saint and little child, Helen, CEnone, Hecuba, and Eve, Paris and Priam, Adam and your love. No one can take his godly gift away — Beauty of Truth or laughter of Regret. All they zcho labour linger in my womb. Mine to return them at my master-nil I. Brother-soul, sister-soul, meet as one in me. Nothing can leave the Dust from zihich it sprang. Dust-true it lives, in truth of Dust it dies. All years I sing the triumph of the Soul: — 62 MAN AND WOMAN One earth and one sea, moving, moving on. One song and one dream, one eternal thought, All lands in one land and all songs one song. All men in one man, God within lis all. He wrought and made me Who has put forth all: Meadow and city, castle, field and home. Back to the Dust's heart all will pass again. Dust to the soft Dust, till the mighty Good — Soul of the true soul triumphs over all." The low voice ceased and to the Dust I cried: "Too strange Is this strange, earthy voice of yours Speaking of thought behind the thought I know, Dream in the God-dream ere the planet came. I want my love. O, speak of him, sweet Dust, Speak of the human in the human way. If you are he, O, speak your heart to me. Tell me your story, you whose body keeps All those sweet women who have late passed here." Softly the sad earth sobbed, "I am yourself." I rose and spake aloud in trembling wrath. "O Dust of Earth, be all that you may sing. All that has been or ever yet shall be. I move but as a simple singing girl, 63 MAN AND WOMAN Nor versed in mysteries, I know you not. Speak by my mind and by my heart and soul, Not by my God's Who is above us all. Set your philosophy to tunes I know, Paint it in colours of the hour I breathe, Not yesterdays or morrows that may be. For I perceive Eve's hands are in my own. And Aphrodite's soul leans out of mine; But I am woman of my own white world And my dear love is but a singing man. Take olt your veil, great P'ather-Mother Dust, And let me see with simple, human eye The man and woman breathing under you. Not ghostly phantoms of frail wonderments. Give me your heart-pulse. Let me feel your tears. Lean to me. Fill me with your joys and hopes," O woe, O woe that I should thus have called Deep to the Earth; for silence fell on me And all the land grew desolate again. No more the talking Dust caressed my feet. But blood was there and eye-balls torn and gashed Of men and women, babes and innocents. Up from the Dust which through their bodies pressed, High shrilled a voice, "We are Earth's oldest woe. In her we lie. Look down. Look down and see The Dust is red, red, red with blood of life." 64 MAN AND WOMAN I screamed. For shrieking Babylonian hordes, Persians, Egyptians, Greeks and Scythians pale, Roman and savage with soft, broken bones Rolled in the horror of the bloody Dust. Then loud Earth lifted up her voice again: "O Woman, all these woes are under me. Be wise and treat me gently. Walk in tears. My myriads are yellow, white and black. Nearest me black, and so more piteous. Seek not to fly from me who hold your feet. For you, white-footed, with yout eyes of stars Are mine. Beloved, by your body's dust. I love you, but I love my feeble, too. My helpless, ignorant and sore-oppressed. I love my highest and my least at once. The singing poet and the slave asleep Are one in me and beautiful through you. Dearest, and fairest that my soul can dream." I wept and greedily the Dust drank in My tears, as but an hour ago I saw It take sweet Eve's; and I was mute and cold For thinking how the ages finer grow In me a shepherdess of silver song. 6s MAN AND WOMAN I felt slow reverence and holiness That issued gently from the blessed place Which once I knew and yet could never know; For, suddenly, a thought came singing there How God was with me in the breathing Dust, Loving me, guiding me to His true sphere. I thought, "He is with me and my dear love. So that He speaks to us from everything; And all the women from the first of time Dying in Eve, return in me again. Because I feel the passion of the Dust, The mist, the midnight, and my own warm heart, Because my soul is strong and very wise, Aged as is the morning, young as night. My God who moves in everything I touch Even to the dim Dust had His Mind in mine." I sat and, clasping tight my naked knees. Covered my body with my lustrous hair, Alone for ever in that quiet place And yet companioned by the whole wide world. I saw the beauty of immortal eyes In every creature that my wise heart knew And peace came over me with balm of joy As I mused softly: "All that is, is God." And, musing thus, I felt the old Earth heave 66 MAN AND WOMAN Heart to my heart again; and all the Dust Frolicked to mirth, in happy, childish play, Saying: "Let all the people laugh again. For I am joyous under all my tears. O, speed the pipe and put the drum away; The silken suburbs of my towns are fair. The kine are free. The lam.blings bleat in peace. And, where young children with loose flying curls Roll dimpled bodies down the dancing hill, The green grass ripples into summer mirth. While through their happiness I laugh, I laugh. The bubbling ocean with its shipwrecked crews, Old gold and silver and unpolished pearls, Buried deep down beneath its haunted heart. Leaps up in merriment where children splash Beside the shore, and never stays to fret. It runs a river round my island home, And, like a ship, all merrily I sail White-winged, green-prowed, with freight of new content. Sorrow to sorrow moves, and joy to joy; So my soul smiles as swiftly as it fears. Leaves fade and fall upon the moth-pale Dust; But butterflies about me flutter gold. All pass and die; but with a merry laugh I wake them fresher from their sleep again." 67 MAN AND WOMAN "0 love, O love," I whispered closer now, "Holding the secret of all life and death. My own dear love is near me. Let me go And take him tidings of his own true heart." I fled away, but as I onward ran By winding ways and many pleasant fields, "Love, love and love," came shouting from the Dust. My feet danced laughter and my waving hair Blew to the breeze, while sunbeams caught it back, Binding it o'er with fire of flowing light. My bare white hands upraised like ringing bells, Shook on the air a milky melody. J found long vines and wound them over me. On gleaming thighs I lightly tied them round. With purple violets and young, white buds Of mountain roses trembling with the dew. They seemed to know the skin they met and kissed. Thus on I moved, too happy for myself. Too full of joy to know my own, sweet end Till with a cry of "Love, I come ... I come," I sank like all my sisters into dust. That ecstasy of bliss I felt no more; I thought for years sense wholly died away. Till I was once again in that dark wood Moaning and tortured under vine and bough. MAN AND WOMAN There were no lights, no outlets; as before, The more I cried, the duller grew my pain. Trying to rise, I sank in agony. And fell, deep-bruised, to bite the stinging Dust. Again, again, I saw the children fight. Blood-red and matted with the gore of Death. They cried and struck, and, inarticulate. Knew not what either said, but stabbed and slew, While shapes like women wringing moaning hands. And angels tied, who could not reach the strife. Bowed aching heads at spectres of red Death, And Famine-Pain that stalked along the land. From fighting children fast to men they grew, And back again. Savage and huge, brute man To small child shapes passed on eternally. Warring and warring on, yet coming back. As babes whose loose curls dripped with mother-tears. Slowly my agonies of mind died out; My heart upburst and loud I heard a cry, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" I saw the Christ above the tumult move. Cold calm swept over me to hear Him weep, Raising again that helpless, human call; And in the midst, arose the vision old Of Rachel mourning children that were not. "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" . . . 69 MAN AND WOMAN "Stop, Stop," I moaned. "O, cease your strife. Cease, cease." And like a flood of memory rolled by All women of all Time mourning their slain. The hosts passed on. My tears had numbed my soul; And, looking out upon the blood-black plain, I saw a babe hold up its little hands And cry. I heard its passionate complaint : "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? My God, my God, hast thou forsaken me?" I burst my bonds, and, running wild with woe. Pressed its soft face with kisses of my soul. 0 God, I held its softness to my heart And felt the warm compassion of my soul Lift it to knowledge of eternal Hope As I moved, weeping, back into my world. It smiled. It lifted up its dimpled hands No longer moaning; and the laugh it made Whispered of love that linked the living man Unto the woman who had made his song. "O soul of Him Who died for humankind, 1 see," I said, "Life's meaning new in You. Men war. Men war for ever, but You come Because a mother-heart is left to love. 70 MAN AND WOMAN They never change, the people of the Dust. Rachel is weeping still and Hecuba; A thousand wives a Hector mourn again As Aphrodite and Athene strive Through the bruised souls of men and women too. But, You are safe, O little child of Love, That ages touch not with their misery. Mary, a mother, brought You into light. Loved of the best loved, dearest of the Dust, To whom all Marys, hypocrite and saint Still look in worship as eternal Love." With smiles enlightening its beaming face. The holy child pressed kisses on my cheek. And sent me dreaming into some sweet sleep From which I prayed that I should wake no more. But, opening up my eyes to meet the day, I found my love, who bent above my bed Kissing my cheeks and eyes in sacred fear. While a young child upon my bosom slept. "A woman, love," he breathed, "too sweet, too fair — Beauty and Light and Hope your Pain has brought Out of immortal darknesses for Man. And I, remembering yet some travail pain, Before the dark delirium closed in. Felt all my being stir to him and said: "You were not lost?" He smiled and bade me sleep, 71 MAN AND WOMAN Then, when T waked, all fever being passed, I saw the child and, leaning close to it, Touched its small body in a humble awe. It breathed. It opened up its calm, blue eyes Till my heart sobbed some ecstasy of Pain. I whispered softly to my pale-cheeked love, "It lives and I live and you live through all. This is our very selves, our thought, our dream." And then I marked how tired was my love, Drained of all colour, fainting to my heart. "I have been with you through the deeps," he said. "I know," T answered him, recalling there How Death's delirium had led me forth Where all my senses crowded to a pang Breeding new sense in passion terrible. So, dreaming there in that contented pain That follows fever of great travail pangs — Brain-blur and heart-throb, sickening to Fear, Where Birth escapes from out the jaws of Death— I thought on all the wonders I had seen. And that God taught me in my mother-hour. Sweet tears rained down upon my little child Which my dear love wiped tremblingly away. Fearing to touch me, since my wails and cries, And those wild terrors shrieking in the dark, Rang in his ears till he seemed almost I. 72 MAN AND WOMAN He spoke in murmurs that I scarcely heard : "Life is all one, Pain, Death and Dust are one. And you and I, wife, one for evermore." I looked about my room, and left and right Glowed the glad Dust in happy beams of sun; In cotton frocks within the wooden press. Wrought in fine thread and lavendered with care, All delicate as dew, that Earth had made, Laboured for, borne that I might know delight. Dim canvas, picturing the walls of Troy, Clung to my walls near crucifix and ledge, Whereon the Virgin nestled close her child. And everywhere I saw the Earth in them. For hands of Dust had fashioned them from Dust. My books, full-thoughted with their dreams of old. Clasped close the souls of those who panged for them, Deep in their golden bands; and much I mused, My arm about that true mate of m.y soul, To see how Beauty met me everywhere. Comforting, holy from the floor to roof. My love leaned low. I kissed his pale, cold cheek. Weary from vigil. Looking in his eyes I saw indeed the scars of many wars. Deep wounds that yet were aching from God's pain. "The world-war still is at the gate," he said. "They hunger and they die; and Honour stalks 73 MAN AND WOMAN Bleeding but beautiful amid the shame." "I know," I said. "I saw them and I strove Breast-full to feed them, but they fought and died. Love, love, the pain! They kill. They kill and die; And, even I, who screamed these hours away, Blinded with Pain, know little of their woe, Save what my bones gave back at their wild cries As the white children grew so red with blood." And as I spake, I thought, in gentle rest. How simple life and love and all things were. How from the Dust had come, sun-drawn, myself, My child, my love; and how about the room Beauty to Beauty gave eternal grace. In picture, book, old ornament and urn. . . . Too happy Dust, I thought, that loves to dwell In scent and flower. ... I felt all humbled there, Knowing the grain of Dust I am and was. Touching my child, I said unto my love, "How human and how simple is our God ! How sweet, how little and how beautiful! How all at once the sorrow and the joy Move from the agony to laughter clear! But Man and Woman go a dark, cold way Of blood and tears and darknesses of pain To reach new paths and find a truer light." 74 MAN AND WOMAN And then, I scarce know how, but swift it seemed, The wood-brown bed on which I lay in pain Grew up again to lofty cedar trees. The blankets soft and very clean and sweet Drifted again into the wool-white sheep That flocked together in the cedar's shade; And the white linen was a field of flax. And I, no longer bound by tightened bands, Lay 'neath the trees ungarmented and free, My sleeping babe upon my weary arm. Panting was I, but strong; and happily My own dear love held water to my lips. The sunny river running by the flax Held all the songs that ever lips had sung. The wind that rippled it a clear pipe blew Sweeter to me than ever ears had heard. The kind, low Dust held all the thoughts of life. And that blue mist that hovered o'er the grass, Green with wise-growing, kept a dearer dream Than ever yet my youngest mind had known In the great anguish or the greater joy. My love embraced me as we lingered on. In that calm Eden of the cedar grove, Knowing and feeling all the pangs of earth Yet smiling over them in w^onderment. 75 MAN AND WOMAN "O love, it is the greater Eden here Given to us who are the meek of heart." I Hsped the words; and to my tranced ear In melody divine he answered me ; "Heart, God comes down to us in our small child. It last has seen Him ; and as we two cleave Close unto each through pangs and pains we go Back to the newer Eden from the dark. Our child shall leave this garden where we sleep And wander on into still fairer realms, And find at last the mighty Truth and Light Of the first garden growing in the last. Remains but this, O truest mother-wife — Friend of my bosom, blood of me and mine — A man and woman and a little child. Love-swayed and hallowed, body, mind and soul, Bind God to earth and earth to all His dreams." 76 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD ONCE, through the woods I heard a voice ring clear, Saying: "O woman, can you never rise Up from the thraldom of your lover's eyes And seek the regions of a higher Seer? Poor little slave, who will not drop a tear, Low tinkling sonnets to eternal sighs, Is Love so prodigal of Paradise You cannot worship in another sphere?" I looked upon your mouth, your eyes, your face; And all the currents of my blood ran fire, "Here," said I softly, "is my work, my life, Till the last trumpet echoes into space." And breathing to your soul that twin desire Love drowned the murmurs of insistent strife. 17 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD II If you should think I sing too oft and strong Of love that brought me trembling to your feet, 'Tis that I fear the grey days, moving fleet, With marching destiny to mar my song. How many suns have set to work us wrong While your sweet kisses drank my life complete, Till, like a shadow of yourself, I beat The bars of heaven where the great loves throng? O, let me sing until my song resounds From hill to hill, o'ertopping consequence. Let the winds bear it to the yearning call Of far-off waves beyond the ocean's bounds; Lift it and waft it in a joy intense To thrill at last its triumph over all. 78 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD III Last year I was a shepherdess who lay In greenest valleys of contented Ease, Resting my head between your happy knees, While all my lamblings wandered far away. High on the hills the little leaves at play Frolicked in folly to the running breeze. Rocked in the passion of such melodies, How could I hearken to the clash of Day? But from the pastures of the higher blue Came music calling in a finer tone — Magic of joy in jubilation shrill — I wept to hear it all the morning through. And, climbing up aloft to vales unknown, I found you lying in the shadows still. 79 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD IV Love, Love, the sun-hour darkens, and the night Musters her starry senators of Space. Lean to my bosom. Let me kiss your face While the moon swims along the mountain height. Fled is the miracle of morning bright. The steeds have broken from Apollo's trace; Dulled is the glow, and Silence spreads apace The brown pavilion of her chaste delight. O, must the flame into the darkness fade, Fire sink to ashes, every leaden eve? Must Love and Life in mists of cold desire Pass to the destiny of Death's wide shade. Leaving a moon of memory to grieve Where the red sun lit Passion to his pyre? 80 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD V Ah no, the sun is in another land Leading on lovers to their daily deeds. And yon pale moon above the clover meads To-morrow morn will flood an eastern strand. So trick we Time. Dear, hold my tingling hand, And hear this secret that my yearning speeds — Our Love to Life at every hour proceeds If we so mind to let our hearts expand. Our sun of Love is at the full of noon, Our hearts and minds attuned to its desire, Stirred by the wind of summer, blowing wild Thro' all free flowers that own its gracious boon. O Love, retain it in the holy fire And the warm glory of a living child. 8i SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD VI I'd have you love my body as my soul, Praise it and magnify it night and day, Knowing its sweetness blossoms out of clay With tremulous movement to its spirit goal. These arms perchance have clambered branch and bole, These feet have run from many beasts of prey; But Love has led them to a clearer way. Moulding white rapture from apparent dole. O, let my body be your soul's delight, Your mirror true of Beauty most-esteemed, That looking on its form your lips breathe low : "This is herself, her soul within my sight." So read it over as a book you dreamed In boyhood's fancy many a year ago. 82 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD VII The river said: "I'll sing a song for you Older than Darkness, younger than the Light Tha,t leaps with joyance from the grave of Night Through purest twinkle of the early dew." I smiled and cried: "I know a song more true That my love carries in his ears' delight, Heard oft in Sicily and vales dove-white Where the wild lilies of the ancients blew." For all the echoes of the horn and shell From Jubal's harmony to Pan's shrill lay, Your soul has gathered through your ears, made strong By timbrel, harp and little singing bell. So come, my love, make melody to-day. Be swift, be swift to sing me into song. 83 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD VIII Make me the melody of meeting palms, The roundelay of little running feet. Strike me a measure to a trembling sweet Of the mouth's laughter and the fingers' psalms. I know of music in the ocean calms — A siren singing where the long tides meet. I know of lyrics in the leaf's long beat, But the child-chant is symphony of balms. Sing it to me. O, sing it to my blood. . . . Through chord and fibre of my being run The liquid quavers, and the pause and turn Of every note in its seraphic flood. Sing on that anthem of the sea and sun And the deep dreams that in your being yearn. 84 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD IX Dearest, my spirit wakens into light More lovely than the floods of sun that stream To affluent fountains, where the rainbows gleam Smitten with beam and banneret of white. My skin is laughing in a long delight. Each pore of it, a little mouth in dream, Kisses your own till both our bodies seem Stricken with sweetness into holy might. l^he young, young life of bird and bud is here Warm in my blood, and, like a tingling tide Striving to give my spirit its release. Each drop makes anguish for a happy tear. Yet Love, all agony is set aside. Breathing contentment in a breeding peace. 85 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD X I walked among the flowers that bend their heads Low to the earth and back again to light, Hearing them prattle of their blue and white — Violet and jasmine in the bordered beds. They whispered them of every wing that weds Fragrance to fragrance in the dusky night; And, seeing them, I knew another sight. And saw them bowing where all Beauty spreads. I touched each petal with the sunbeams flaked — Roses and pansies of the early morn, Lilies that lilted of the moon's light grace, And left them hushed when all my joy was slaked; For in the garden of my soul, God-born, Each flower made beauty for my child's soft face. 86 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XI When all the world toils out its busy play With leathern loops that every quiet spurn, Where Force makes Form at oily twist and turn, I walk the beaches where the wise waves sway. There by the borders of the sea I stay As the great breakers, rolling in eterne. Silence the roaring of the cities stern To the far chuckle of their flying spray. What speed voluminous of rhythmic power! What rushing laughter ringing to the shore ! I hear, I hear all echoes of the earth. Changeful and constant in the whirling shower That leaps the cliff and leaves, behind the roar, A sound of sobbing merging into mirth. 87 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XII 0 Love, I wandered by the sea this morn And saw the shells upon the beaches strewn, Lined with the lyric lappings that the moon Woos from the deep with every tide upborne. White, pink, and creamy as the early corn, 1 gathered them unto the far-off tune Of some sea-bell that rang a drowsy croon Of singing freshets in a depth forlorn. I held my breath; for through the mellow maze Came silver airs that made the sea resound From shell to shell all human joys and tears. I sighed in tremors of delicious praise; And knew two shells within my body bound Caught all those wonders for my child's sweet ears. 88 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XIII Accept my body, Dearest, as a gift, A precious casket of the purest pearl. Flushed with the earth-old ecstasies that curl From dancing joys and into heaven drift. My soul for key, I give it glad and swift To your safe keeping as a guileless girl. And faint with wonder as my senses whirl To tender longings that in dreams uplift. I have one jewel in the casket rare. Dearer than pearl that ever diver drew From cool, green ocean in the deeps of death; Brighter than ruby and than beryl fair. O, take the key and guard it close and true. The gem is living, and you give it breath. 89 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XIV What longing passion of aJl life I feel Moving within me now serene and slow, As through my blood the rushing ages go Like some old carol with a new appeal ! Down cell and bone the busy aeons wheel Dew into dust, and dust into the glow That we shall meet upon these limbs of snow. Ripening by Love beneath my body's seal. All earth has sweated for this child of ours, A thousand ages in a thousand ways. Our God has put upon its little head His highest excellence of unbound powers. All He has done, all His eternal days, Breathes fresh as dawn in this His dearest bred. 90 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XV The Builder took his stones and reared them high To glowing symmetries of arch and dome, Crowned with the massive masonry of Rome And the line glory of the Grecian sky. Singing he worked, the hope within his eye Lifting him upward from the stone and loam To the wide ripple of a marble foam Rising obedient to the chisel's cry. On cupola and cornice speaking Power, With decorative curve of leaf and line, He wrought for centuries, but never piled O'er his choice cusp and sunny trefoil flower Even the semblance of that God-design In the mind architecture of a child. 91 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XVI Archarchitect, who work in living clay, Moulding by melody of thought and dream Lintels of eyelids, breathing trave and beam For the Lord's house — your soul, you build to-day. You set the bricks of being to the sway Of mellow music that the mind-pipes stream; And let your dome of Reason flame and gleam On the young columns of your son to stay. You rear the city of yourself in me, Flooding, as once sweet Orpheus from his lute, The rising walls of Troja, wind-unfurled, Your Love with such eternal harmony That the soul's pillars from the dust blown mute, May grow and glow the glory of the world. 92 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XVII Listen ! I hear a tapping at my soul. Can you not hear it, O my Bosom-heart, Like leafy tips of summer that o'erdart The streaming silence of a shelly shoal? O Love, I swoon. I lose your close control, Drifting and falling from the world apart, Mute to the margins where the life-rills start Wakened by Love to fathom Beauty's goal. Hush my hot spirit in your own to sleep, Lulled by the music of these growing limbs. The soft chords tighten all the cadence through And airy measures in my being creep. O Love, my soul with very wonder dims. Almighty God in me is singing you. 93 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XVIII The spider wove his kingdom in the sun With silken yarn and httle, random threads. Through shining jewels that the rainbow spreads A wheel of silver in the morn he spun. What pattern of pure light, so lightly done! Some witch's spindle o'er the blossom-heads Ran in and out, as if for fairy beds Fate worked a fabric that was known to none. Weaver of wonder! How he toils in vain, Nor ever yet can turn the wheel you spin, With threads of Love upon my heart in tears. Making the beauty of white youth again. As on the frame of me you now begin The moving epic of a million years. W SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XIX Now all my senses have a double sense, As this young life about my heart-fire sings, Bringing to earth the everlasting things God pours on woman as a recompense. Great miracles of being, bright and tense, Bloom from His garden of imaginings; And long and deep, on happy seraph wings. They fill my body with a dear suspense. O blessed trinity of motherhood! These tiny eyes unopened in me yet Feed on the light of you, my spirit-spouse. Through every marvel of each passing mood; And in the passion of this wonder set Our God Himself in holy travail bows. 95 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XX What will this child be, dearest, growing fast Out of myself and yourself, chaste, divine, Fluttering contented in the Inner shrine Of my young body till it comes at last? Will it bring echoes of the lovely past, Dreams of old wanderings by road and vine. Lilting me lyrics that perhaps were mine In a far age that never woe o'ercast? All that enlivens me must fashion it, All that I whisper to my soul and do; The constant thoughts that in a moving bliss Mellow the memories of oldest wit. Dearest, the fire that fused me into you Breeds on to Beauty since your first man-kiss. 96 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXI In Babylon they built a massy tower To search the stars for some account of Time. Sweeping the heavens with their eyes sublime, The bold astrologers watched hour by hour. Death mocked their arrogance and way to Power, Dust were their destinies; but, Love, we climb. Mingled with magic in our married prime, To the star-regions that no fears o'erlour. Dust is that ground on which we build to God, Month after month, the living tower we mould; But Wisdom, lighting all the windows wrought. Glimmers on valleys of the heavenly sod. And on the stairway with His dreams enscrolled God strives through us to reach His highest thought. 97 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXII By what strange pathways did I come to you, Down what old woods, what mountains cool and high Stretching their spreading forests to the sky To touch the passing anguish of the blue? Perchance I danced in Tempe with a crew Of slender virgins to a piper's sigh; Or, when a war-cloud thundered, hurried by Thinking to find no soul like yours all true. Love, Love, encompass me. I think I came Last to a shrine, and left my spirit there, Which lifted up a carol for your ears And ceased not singing till you breathed my name. O, hold me close. This child that I must bear Shall haunt those pathways all the coming years. SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXIII "Lead me again unto Romance," you said, And as you spoke Romance herself came by ... . Her rosy bells upon the midnight sigh When in her temple love and youth are wed. Here are the steps, dream-misted. Softly tread. This is the doorway where her fancies fly. O, turn the key and in the rich room spy The fairy feasters and the charmed bread. You muse, Beloved. Kiss me once again. Don Quixote jostles by with spur and steed. The red-capped Robin and his yeomen go, Their yew-bows twanging down your own dear brain. Love, you have given them to me in need. Your child will thank me when he wakes to know. 99 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXIV How many holy women mothered me And brought me to perfection for this hour, When from my being all the living power Of sweetest woman should at last flow free? i^ons on ceons on a loving knee Some woman rocked me in her scented bower, Till my soul bloomed an everlasting flower Calling with fragrance to a singing bee. You came. You saw me. And because in you A myriad mothers all their love had spread, Those holy women since the dawn of day Gave you the promise of a master true. . . . Dearest, that bee unto the flower was wed When your song fitted with my humble lay. 100 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXV Dear, you have taken off your youth for me And sent it singing through my heart and soul, By breathing measures, as the low winds troll Echoes of earth and murmurs of the sea. O Love, I tremble as this flowering tree, Where the rose ponders o'er her crimson bowl, Pours out the perfumes that in longing roll Rich to the music of a musing bee. The rose is listening for its leaves' soft fall Light on the meadows where the young blades shoot. Hush, at the carol of the wakened morn All life is listening for the living call. O turning leaf! O little, running root! Listen, sweet love, you, too, are being born. lOI SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXVI You longed for Fairyland. I know the way. Come down the garden. It Is near, my sweet. But wander Hghtly lest the fairies fleet Skip far away to meet the end of day. "Where are the Little People of our play? In flower and grass?" Your happy murmurs beat Low on my ears. O, stay your trembling feet. Cling closer yet and I shall breathe their lay. Boy of my heart, young singer of the sun. Queen Mab and all her maidens are abroad. Brown Puck is calling with a pixie hoot; And elf and fairy in a frolic run. Dear, neath my bosom is their treasure stored In a child's laugh and little running foot. 102 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXVII O, not alone I weave this miracle Of glowing spirit from my body's zone. With every moment of the life unknown You feed the glory of a growing cell. All day I think of you, and night must tell DreamiS of my dreams unto your heart alone; So, seeing you, I take you, O my own, Into my child where first you wrought Life's spell. Dearest, as much as I, you breathe in pain, Breeding yourself — your very soul from me By look and sign, soft word and action strong. And all you longed for in its form regain. I am a humble haven where we three, Father and child and mother, make a song. 103 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXVIII O Master of all masters, painter-rare Limning the canvas of my soul with light, Beside the passion of this picture bright You draw on me, all else seems painted air. Your mind as brush, you blend with lover-care God-colours of the eyes and lips' delight, And shade the delicate desires of sight With thoughts and dreams that every promise share. How have men carved their beings into stone, Etched out their souls in ink upon a board. Chiselled and worked long dreams into a bowl, And hearts and minds upon an easel thrown ! All, all are cold beside such warmth, my Lord, As fires the living picture of your soul. 104 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXIX How strangely lone unto myself I grow, Listening and looking for I know not what; Turning my head with terror cold and hot At wandering whispers of a music low ! Familiar pieces of my being flow Far, far away, to thymy hill and plot, While chained to patience in this close-shut spot I sit apart from everything I know. O Love, I fear the loneness of my limbs Leaning to nothing in their solitude. Draw up the blinds and let the stars rush in. The mournful moon and all the air she swims. T would not languish in my mother-mood While just without earth makes her old, mad din. 105 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXX There's Echo with her horn! O, follow swift Up hill and valley till we catch her hair; And hold her, panting, in the azure air Where the loose leaves among the violets drift. Onward, from vale to vale, her wild peals lift, Mournfully musical. Call out. Hush! There. . O, follow, follow to her leafy lair In the dark shadow of the mountain rift. Not there. O, call again . . . again . . . again. 'Tis but our own song singing back to us. Dear, when I pass like her who died for Love, Glad shall I be if I can sound your strain On through the hollows and the mountains thus — Echo an echo to the realms above. io6 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXI Beloved, I who shall be mother soon Need mothering myself this tired hour, As heavily the sweet and precious power Weighs on my heart till I am near to swoon. Console me, soothe me, Dearest, with the boon Of your firm strength, and little comforts shower Soft on the drifting doubtings that devour Patience and courage when the death-winds croon. You are your mother. Dear, as I am mine. And, as we slumber to our souls' caress. Those two who panged for us and weeping smiled, Draw near and bind us in a peace divine. O mother me; all else is comfortless As painted lips above a dying child. 107 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXII I must believe In all things, great and small, That our sweet child may drink its happy fill Of Poesy and Thought through my fine will, And grow by light into the Light of all. I crowd my mind with every courting call Of rose Imagination's airs that spill Love and Romance along the coloured hill Where Beauty frolics in an elfin shawl. Now cloaked in dreams of an Arabian night, Now fairy-led beneath a bluebell sky. Deep in my heart I bear the tidings meet Of God's creation to my child's delight. All things since Time began are creeds to cry, So my child's Godward instinct be complete. io8 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXIII Dearest, how beautiful the people are Walking together 'mid the tasks of day, Like rainbow banners of immortal clay- Mingling their fringings in the mist afar. From shop, and factory, and running car, I watch them streaming their incessant way. Eyed like the dawning, by the crescent bay. Their march is as the magic of a star. The blossom knows its beauty, and the fruit The rosy splendour of rich rind and stem. The bird its wings that soar it into rest, And so, the soul its happy human suit. O loving life, it sings God's Hope to them Till the wise crowd shall melt into His breast. 109 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXIV "Holloa! Holloa 1" I heard a happy shout Of nymph and satyr running in the glade, To the soft chuckle of a merry maid, Who piped in pleasure for the giddy rout. "Join in. Join in," they echoed in and out. "The acorns tumble in the hanging shade, And Pan is tickling with a lily blade The smooth, black bristle of the dea,d boar's snout." How did they cheer! How rang upon the turf The sharp light music of their flying feet! And their horns flashed upon the dancing breeze Like a moon-ripple on the leaping surf. O happy I, who through my forest, sweet, Hear your boy-whoops in games of chase and tease. SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXV There was a singer once whose soul upsoared Through fluted murmurlngs of lark and flower On cloud and wind into impassioned power Till he became a trumpet of the Lord. You know him, Love, for often on this sward You dropped his music like a summer shower In lines that linked the hymeneal hour To heavenly harmony from chord on chord. All melodies were his of air and earth, Who, Ariel-like, upon the day could stream The spirit symphony of land and sea, And the mind-music of immortal birth. Yet never did his brain triumphant dream The song his parents sang unknowingly. SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXVI I must be patient as my Maker now, Who bears the feeble follies of His earth — The unbound nickerings of mulish mirth, While all His seraphim in anguish bow. He alters not His elemental vow Of strength and courage and triumphant worth. To cry in agony at one small birth, Nor shall His daughter who has touched His brow. Calm as a planet floating over all The misty splendour of a yellow morn Through cloudy seas of amethyst and blue. He suffers silently whate'er befall. Clenching His mighty suffering, new-born, I, too, shall bear full martyrdom for you. SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXVII Bend over me. Look long Into my eyes As once Narcissus in the waters deep, Thinking he saw a naiad, half-asleep. Smile through her hair upon his swift surprise. As he, all day you breathe into my sighs *'I love you, love you." 'Tis yourself you keep, Soul to my soul, and watch the eddies sweep The rare reflection that within me lies. Here's young Narcissus glowing by the lake. Leaning him down to catch his happy grace In the clear pool. O touch him tenderly, Whose deathless mind such lovely thought could make. Lean down. Lean down and love your own soft face In this child-flower of Immortality. 113 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXVIII I mind not, dearest, if Death comes that hour When I lie waiting for deliv^erance. Dull, on the borders of a moving trance That pales in torture at its own small power. Death has no torment for the mother-flower Flaunting her beauty to the brown bee's dance; And I, Beloved, by my mind's expanse Conquer the pangs that would my faith devour. Woman's not woman till she mothers man; And all your strength about my bones I feel With such calm fortitude controlling me. Should Death then enter in the Master's plan, I'd count me rich to feel my senses reel On out of Life to His eternity. 114 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XXXIX O Love, I saw a nymph upon a bank Piping to Pan a reedy roundelay. With dewy mouth, tongue-merrily in play, She swooned in rapture of the sound she drank. Listening, the god among the grasses shrank, Feared at the song yet bending to its sway, Till, the mad music echoing away. She dropped her pipe and into silence sank. O, mournfully he kissed her, called her fair. And breathed his incense-anguish on her face. Her pipe sang clearer on the laughing earth With her soul's song that she had carolled there. The shepherds came and bore her from the place. So would I die to give your song its birth. 115 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XL A miracle of miracles is here. Take off your shoes. This place is holy ground. No man-child ours like that the shepherd found By dreaming Mary when the Star burned clear. Our God has given us a woman, dear, With satin skin her dimpling shoulders round. No pinkest shell with sea-blown bubbles crowned Could match the marvel of her tiny ear. How like to me, and yet 'tis you — all you. I dare not touch her. Take your soul, My Own. Set in my body with your mind, your sight. Your dreams and thoughts with every promise true- A queen to sit upon a regal throne With a man's soul won out of woman's right. ii6 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XLI I think that Heaven is a quiet place, Where little feet among the violets flow, Light as the laughter of the buds that blow Down valleys of the dark in easy pace. There Sorrow softens into Love's embrace, Folding her closer till their bosoms glow, White with the wisdom that the angels know, Gathering them both to everlasting grace. For, Love, last night within this pulsing room When travail-terrors through the silence poured, I seemed to stumble on the Death-pangs seven Touching the borders of the sobbing tomb, When sudden, smiling in a wise reward, This child released me to the calm of Heaven. 117 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XLII O rosy Soul, housed in such excellence Of silken skin and dimples crinkling mirth, Why have you hastened to this old, green earth To wreck your beauty in a strained suspense? The skylark in his song outcarols sense, Warbling the promise of another birth. Do you too breathe a wider fairer worth In the fresh frolics of your innocence? O Flesh, you are no channel for mere food, No tomb of animals, nor Death's cold sea. Red home of Life, wherein the spirit small Still cries for a diviner cloak and hood. O singing bird from the deep soul of me, You are God's answer to the human call. ii8 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XLIII We look at her in wonder, O my soul, Asking by eye to eye, "Whence came she here?" Touching the tiny finger-tips in fear As if we fancied Death yet held control. You said: "Perchance these little, white feet stole Down streets of Memphis, still this many a year; Through Greece and Rome with what a pang and tear They may have bled to reach our hearts' safe goal." I said, "She may have run through every land, O'er dancing strips of valley rare and green Weary with woe and heavy with old pain, Or walked dim cloisters with a holy band; But she has come from out my frame serene. And is but you and me made young again." 119 SONNETS OF .MOTHERHOOD XLIV I mused once how there was nor Time nor Place Since I could span them both with merry ease, By thought and dream and moving memories That bridged the awful distances of Space. But, since a maiden full of laughing grace Came from this body, I have crossed strange seas, Met Time with all his chiming melodies And passed each passage of the mortal race. Now do I mark how once long, long ago. The Maker took a seed of singing light And gave it to the simple planter Man, In the true Woman of his heart to sow. He reaped the harvest from her being white Of Love's eternity through Life's short span. 120 SONNETS OF MOTHERHOOD XLV Dearest, your mother feels (though dead) this birth- Laughs at the fire within your shining eyes — Your eyes, yet mine, wherein such glory lies Never before beheld upon the earth. She scents the fragrance of the lily-mirth Lilting this body that I drew all-wise Out of your own, so hers, and with low sighs. Mellowed in mine to what a wondrous worth. Kiss me. Kiss her. The miracle is wrought — The simple beauty out of simple love — Mother and father, child and God — all One — Eternal trinity for ever sought. O, blessed from her quiet place above, Your mother kisses us — a life's work done. 121 COLUMBINE I SAT alone In my musty room In the still, dark night with my shattered dreams, When I heard a voice in the trembling gloom Through the airy drift that the midnight streams: "Let me in, let me in to the light again From the wind and wail of the beating rain I" I opened the door and I looked outside With the sob of years In my broken heart. "Oh, my Columbine, Is It you," I cried, "Coming back to the world with your love and art; When your stage Is dark and the curtain down. And the white moths thick in your crumpled gown?" She raised her pinched little painted face With a grave, slow smile, and her soft mouth said: "Let me dance one step in this warm, small place. For my heart grew sick with the weary dead When I heard you ca,ll; and I took my cue From the sad, sad thoughts that were blinding you." I drew her Into the candle glow. With her tinselled frock and her worn, silk shoes. And I said: "Be quick, for the light is low And there's barely a tip of the time to lose. I will tap my soul for the old, old tune That your Harlequin loved by the mad, white moon." 122 COLUMBINE She stood tiptoe on the shadowy floor. With a pirouette and a smile she turned; But in faint fell down at the open door As the light and herself in smoke out-burned. And I wept alone in the night-tide black With the thoughts and dreams that had brought her back. Alas! alas for an old romance; For the heart of Youth and a love long dead; For the dancing feet and the eyes' down-glance Of a Columbine in her spangles red! For an old romance is a new regret When a maiden's heart cannot quite forget. 123 HEART'S DESIRE WHEN my true love walks with me Through the fields of Fantasy, All in rosy scented fire Dance the elves of Heart's Desire; And the fairy moon and white Drops the laughter of Delight While the leaves and branches sing In my sweet Imagining; And the wee folk two and two Kiss me with their kirtles blue. O, I lilt with them along To the measure of their song, And I sip the curds and wine That they serve beneath the vine, With a moonbeam dipped in dew And the star-spice running through; Till a spell begins to spin All the charms of Elfland in, When my true love walks with me Through the fields of Fantasy. 124 AUSTRALIA IN ENGLAND HE called. . . . The quiet nurse stole to his side, Seeing how with his hands he strove to hide Dull tears, that from his mother's breast had sprung And stayed in his because he was so young. He spoke. "How long must I breathe England's air When the home-hills are calling me out there?" She leaned to him the pity of her soul, For the Death-drums beat out a muffled toll. April was laughing in the English lanes. Daintily scornful of his soldier-pains. April was whistling of a lover-band; But his closed eyes were in another land. . . . O, the lark, soaring up the English sky. Had sung him home to meet the curlew's cry. . . . He smiled. . . . The little nurse bent over him — Blue eyes unmisted with a memory dim — And, moving gently from the dead apart, She heard his green hills singing in her heart. 125 WISHES WERE all the stars but mine to spend, I'd take a purse of air, And travel to the rainbow's end To buy the wonders there. And still with half my wealth unspent I'd barter light for gems — The fortunes of the Gypsy's tent And fairy diadems. For all the pearls of all the sea I'd pay the highest price; I'd buy old spice of memory, And wines of Paradise. Then under rosy arches tall I'd homeward drive my cart; And take the loaded treasures all To bank them in your heart. 126 WOMAN I AM the luring Vivien With eyes too bright for mortal fiien, With lithe, long fingers full of fire And lips alight with love's desire. 0 man of mine, come dozvn, come down, Across the bush and bracken brown! 1 am the luring Fivien Who kisses sages young agen. I carol Lurlei's siren song O'er magic waters, deep and long — Wide depths of green enchanted seas And luscious caves of coral ease. 0 man of mine, row out, row out Where creek and river wind about! 1 carol Lurlei's siren song Of love that drowns in rapture strong. I hold the cup that Circe held When man to brutish beast she spelled. The wine is red. The wine is sweet With passion's scent and joy complete. 127 WOMAN 0 man of mine, come drink, come drink The spell is bubbling to the brink! 1 hold the Clip that Circe held With charms as soft as fears dispelled. I am a luring singing witch, With spells and potions white and rich. I gather them at early morn Before the first black lamb is born. 0 man of mine, he true, he true; Such sorcery was made by you! 1 learned it when I was a child. But had forgot it till you smiled. 128 GIPSY-JOY LIGHTS are flashing through the woodland trees. J Spangles glance To a brown foot's dance. Zithers breaking on the lilting breeze Banish sorrow with their melodies. Who'll come roving to a Romany rhyme, Hand in hand With a gipsy band, Clicking fingers to the chestnuts' chime, Finding Fortune in the front of Time? Trinkets tinkle to a restless tune. Pile the load For the open road! Careless kettles 'neath a vagrant moon Sing of horses to be jogging soon. Who'll leave fetters for the wild, free air. Strolling far By a vagabond star? Outlaw Laughter is the only care Gipsies carry with the gold they share. Join in, traveller, with the jingling dance. Fairy Fate Is a merry mate. Luck is lurking in the cards' romance. Come and shuffle them and take your chance. 129 FAIRY RIDE IN the merry, merry morning I rode down On a little white mare to True-Love town. Oh, her bells rang high And she seemed to fly As we raced through the glens and the hollows brown. With a tirra lirra la by Childhood Bay To a carnival call she pranced in play, Till the rein I drew At a tower I knew, Where I called to my love, "Come away, away." Oh, I hallooed "A-hoy, I've come for you! Will you ride to my home of billows blue?" But he cried, "Alack, You must gallop back, For Tve battles to wage, and my tasks to do." "Tve a ripple-lapping cave of pearl," I said, "And a myriad harps their airs will wed To delight your ears For a thousand years, If you'll sleep on the weeds of my fairy bed." With a tirra lirra la he flew to me. And he rode in my heart to Youth's far sea, Where a-hoy, a-hoy, Like a girl and boy We dwell with our dreams and our fancies free. 130 THE MAGIC FIDDLER OH, where are you leading me, jfiddler of mine, With the tink and the cHnk of your little gold strings? My heart is adream on a bubble of wine, And the lip of my cup has been kissed by a king's. My senses are singing a fairyland song To your music of mirth, and I cannot keep still. Oh, my feet beat a dance as you lead me along With your, "Follow me, follow me over the hill." What light on the water! What joy in the air! The stars are all nodding and keeping in time; And slim little evening with one shoulder bare Is running with bracelets and anklets achime. How glad are the glow-worms that light the green wood! And see what a feast at the tree's mossy root ! White nuts and brown spices and cinnamon good And blossom-bells brimming with pink pixie fruit! On, on ! I will follow you over the way By red rosy walls and the old rustic mill; For my heart knows all tunes that your fiddle can play, As it knows all the laughter that twilight can spill. I cannot come back, for those little times press As close as the grass and the star-song above — Oh, it all comes of wearing a fairy-green dress And drinking sweet wine from a white cup of Love! 131 THE LAND OF HEARTS DESIRE YEATS lying by my Bible yesternight, A wild, strange wind came blowing through the room, Mingling the leaves into a line of light, Like a long angel-bloom. My ears were closed unto the sounds of earth; My eyes saw not its colours of content; For flowing slowly as a stream of mirth Soft voices rose and blent. And, lightly laughing, neath an olive tree The Faery Child danced dreamily along. Her slender feet among the leaves, white, free. Made a sweet, holy song. Angels and seraphim with joy drew nigh, Laving their pinions in the light she shed; And God Himself breathed laughter through the sigh Of the wise, wandering dead. So much of beauty and of milk-white peace. Young song and dance and happy rest, ran there, I felt the sorrow of my wrinkles crease To a smile fine as air. 132 THE LAND OF HEART S DESIRE And, all my senses being shut and still, I knew I leaned above the blessed place Where He Who wrought me dreamed away His will Before He made the race. (Yeats lying open by the holy Book) A shadowy seraph through the silence trod, And hung a thorn twig on the shepherd's crook To light the word of God. 133 SLEEP HUSHED is the heart of night. All things are still, As down the creeping softness Silence shakes Her noiseless censer at her drowsy will, And not one murmur makes. The pictures dream upon the soft, grey walls, Muffled in muted sound that from the chords Of slumbering harps and cymbals lulling falls Along their painted swards. Odours of easeful Eastern mysteries Coil from the somnolent silk coverlet, Whose woven widths of flowers and broidered trees Fade, now the moon has set. All things are fast asleep. Slow Darkness lies Upon the lids of Night inaudibly; And God is dreaming of His Paradise At rest in you and me. 134 CHILD-SONG O LITTLE gold moon in your happy cloud-ship, Sail swift through the waves of your quiet blue sea, And, as the white sails to the high billows dip, Spill over my daddy a message for me. For you will bend down to him soon in the West, And wait where he kneels, and the wild bullets fly; You'll touch the kind knees where he rocked me to rest, And see the brave light in the blue of his eye. So tell him the corn's nearly ripe, and the hay Is piled up in stacks by the old wooden wall. There's plenty of grass for the chestnut and bay. And sunbeams are running with joy over all. And take a wee kiss. Hush I there's no one can hear ! Now catch it, and fold it up tight in your curl; And, when he is dreaming of mother, swing near And drop it with love from his own little girl. 135 SPIRITS OF THE STREET WAITING for Love upon a wintry day Within the noisy street, I watched the strange crowd go its unknown way On ever-restless feet. Sometimes a face looked swiftly into mine With half-familiar eyes. Sometimes from out the never-ending line One smiled in pleased surprise. I knew not whence they came nor whither bound, Grief-bowed and young with mirth, Save that their bodies made a singing sound Not wholly of the earth. And, looking out upon the trembling band Of laughter, pain and bliss, I marked how spirits of another land Mingled and mixed with this. Love came and spoke my name in accents sweet. I turned all eagerly. We smiled; and joined the shadows of the street — Ghosts of eternity. 136 AN EARLY MOON COME up from the valleys of Sorrow, dear love, To the heights of the hyacinth hills. There's a little pale moon in the meadows above. And it's joy that the fairy thing spills. O, why should she trip through the daytime like this On her pearly white feet and fine; But to give me the scent of your very first kiss And to match it and mate it with mine? O love, make a ring of the grass where we lie. Kiss it wisely and pledge yourself true. And to-night when she dances all golden on high I shall give my girl-sweetness to you. 137 TINKER TIME TINKER Time is a merry old man, Winding by with his creaky van, Shouting, "Ho," As the people go, "Rich man, poor man, beggarman, thief, Bring out your burdens and your world-old Grief. Work is long, and my hours are brief." Out they run with their plagues unpacked, Hope ahead with her kettle cracked. Folly last With his bells held fast, Tuneless twanging by his tattered cap. Young folk, old folk, hear the hammers tap! Heap your troubles in the Tinker's lap. Who's this running with a broken pot? Fortune beggared of her last, lean jot, Jogging by To a pauper's sigh; Luck beside her with a cup to mend. Come, all my hearties, with a dream to spend! Cares aboard for the rainbow's end! 138 TINKER TIME Here is Love with a heart in twain, Youth repairing it with tears in vain. Fiddhng Song In the jostling throng Waves the ribbon of a broken bow. Tailor, sailor passing to and fro. Time is swift, bring your wares of Woe ! Down the road there's a rollicking cry. Off he goes with a winking eye. Singing, "Ho," As the seasons go, "Soldier, sailor, beggarman, thief, I've got a solder for your care and grief. Joy wears long, and your tears are brief." 139 LITTLE BO-PEEP OTELL me," she said, "of that Little Bo-Pcep Who went to the meadows and lost her sheep; And left all their dear little woolly tails there Alone in the night on that moonshiny air. "Was she tiny like me, with a mother like you Who rocked her and hushed her to sleep as you do? Did she have a big Daddy who tucked her to bed And counted the curls on her little brown head? "She had a wee crook. O, I know about that. But did she wear ribbons and socks and a hat? And could she pick Peter Pan pansies like me? I wish you would tell me." She cuddled my knee. "O, Pm going out when I grow a big girl And pin up my hair with a comb and a pearl. Pll find all the tails of those woolly white sheep And tie them up fast." Then she tumbled to sleep. My Little Bo-Peep, when she watches her sheep In the meadows of Motherhood, scented and deep, Plow I hope if the darling things ever should err, They'll bring all their little white tales home to her. 140 LOVE'S EVOLUTION IN you, as in a crystal clear That shows revolving time and space, I see each age of man appear At once before my face. I hurt you with a little word; Red flames your cheek, your dear eyes blaze- The savage from his stone-age stirred At tiger-madness plays. But quick to sweet remorse you spring, Your warm, brown hands encompass me; And to your iron strength I cling — Courageous, firm and free. Hope wakens at your earnest hold. Rearing her citadel of brass. Where gleaming banners beat and fold Across a sea of glass. And then you kiss me, and your love Sings of the golden age of song, Of stars and those large realms above To which we move along. 141 FRAGMENT IF I could scatter myself like notes of birds — My body, my blood, like flocks of affectionate words; If I could send each cell like a wild song singing. Each drop of laughing blood as a verse-bell ringing. Not then would it pay the great thanksgiving price In the utmost incense and joy of sacrifice, P'or the thing that was wrought by the wind and the sea and the earth When they compassed the infinite wonder of life and birth, That my soul such a love of loves may bring to you When we kiss like clashing stars in the front of the dew. NUMERALS MY mind is full of a hundred things. That crowded morn with her movement brings, Flooding my heart with a thousand fears Of slipping joys and impending tears. But hey! Chuckle hey for the work-clogged day! Who cares a jot for her taxes grey? When night unloosens her window-bars, My eyes are filled with a million stars. 142 HAPPY SONG I AM too much alive to sing. I want to shout and leap and fling My laughing arms into the air And dance on tip-toe everywhere. With not a thought and not a dream I want to skip beside a stream In Arcady, in Arcady, And woo the wood-gods all to me. I want to feel them chase me down Among the grasses green and brown, With many a mad and merry cry Of Youth and Gladness ringing high, Till reeling frolic, drunk with mirth. Sink to exhaustion on the earth. In Arcady, in Arcady! Tra-la-la-la, who catches mc? 143 HELEN IN HYDE PARK WALKING together in the quiet joy After the sunset glow, My love and I talked gravely of old Troy Three thousand years ago. And down the ramparts of our memories then We saw great Helen pass, Hiding her eyes where forms of fallen men Showed darkly in the grass. I, being woman and in love, sighed low For the cold dead and white; But my wise love saw the long afterglow Of Beauty and Delight. Loitering among the leaves, a silence grew Between us wisdom-deep. We thought of snowy ridges and the blue i^gean where men sleep; Of little graves beside a sobbing sea Near Troja's wind-swept plain, Where, guarded by white walls of Memory, Rest our immortal slain. 144 HELEN IN HYDE PARK Then down between the trees to us there came Our Helen In distress — A girl who read with heart and face aflame Of War's dark piteousness. She wept upon a name with sudden tears And hid her blinded eyes, Seeking a shelter lest our listening ears Should hear her smothered cries. Her hero in the clash of steel on steel, Fighting for her afar, Had perished that the world might know and feel How near the ages arc. Helen of Homer, Helen of the park I And still the cycles roll Out of the light and onward to the dark To prove a woman's soul. Beauty is Truth. My love and I passed on With sighing of regret. Let the steel clash ! The faith of men were gone If Helen could forget. 145 A WEDDING SONG The Bride Listen, O listen, sweet maidens of mine, Rosemary, Alice and meek Coraline, Hymen is blowing his bugle of fire Summoning Love to the door of Desire. Hasten, O hasten; His harmonies chasten All that is wild in the wine of delight. Hasten and dress me in delicate white, Soft as the stars in the front of the night. Maidens, my virginal veiling unfold. Bring in the gown with the broider of gold. Girdles of gladnesses swing to the knee. Jewelled with pearls from the outermost sea. Laces wrought slenderly. Loop them up tenderly, Rosemary, Alice, and meek Coraline; Love is the lyric of laughter and wine, Soon will his melody mingle in mine. The Village Girls Lovely with Life is she and fair, A blossom rare with fragrancy. O, braid her soft and golden hair, Her sweets set free. 146 A WEDDING SONG Light up, light up the smiling eyes Beneath the lashes cool as night, Love-torches into Paradise And long delight. Her mouth is sweet and very small Where kisses sing themselves to sleep. O Hymen, Hymen, softer call Your music deep. O, let it flutter gently by With youngest ecstasies that lure The easy echo of a sigh To bliss demure. We are too young to marry yet. We have no breasts where Love may rest. O, lose no longings in regret, Sweet Youth is best. Lead out the little, laughing bride, With pearl, and flower, and silver lace. O, lead her to her bridegroom's side And Love's embrace. The Bridegroom My Love's a young love, coming all in white- Coming up the green way Where the grasses play. 147 A WEDDING SONG My Love's a fair love, trippingly and light Bringing all the boy-dreams dancing to my sight. Hush, heart, your glad song. Sing it to her car, Sing it to her soft breast When you taste its rest. Hush, heart, your mad song. She is coming near, Coming with a red kiss, smiling through a tear. The Mother This is my daughter, my dove undefiled, Clear as the sun at the noon; Choice as the apples she pulled when a child Under the arch of the moon. Down in the vineyard of Beauty she grew Pure as her morning-white smock; Cooling her feet in the innocent dew. Tracing the steps of the flock. Take her, O Chosen One. Soft through the night Walk in the garden with her. Bathe with your soul in her lily delight — Rapture of honey and myrrh. 148 A WEDDING SONG The Village Girls How far have the feet of Girlhood fled From all that they loved last eve, Away from the woods that they used to tread And the meadows of Make-Believe! O, whither so fast, our fairest one? What pleasures can beckon you? The blossoms blow mirth as we leap and run To the rainbow caught in the dew. O, laggard our dreams in Dimple Dell And paths where the sun-maids play. What joy was awake in your wedding bell In the hit of its brazen sway? We never shall know till golden years Run red at the feet of Time; And we hurry after with tingling ears. To the tune of the wedding chime. The Bride Wake, O wake, my laughing soul, Let your madding music roll Clear and high to heaven's gate Where the loves of Eden wait. 149 A WEDDING SONG I-ooscn locks When he knocks, And his footsteps make a song All the happy house along With a measure sweet and strong. Hungry for his love am I. 'Mid the Life-corn shall I lie. O, the ecstasy of rest — Poppies on a wheaten breast Bending low To the glow Of his kisses fine and red, Ravishing his soul for bread Of the fragrant nuptial bed. He is comely as the king Of the green, enchanted spring. Wake, O wake, m.y soul to light All Youth's blisses in his sight. Hush, a sigh Coming nigh — Now your sweetest strain begin. All delight is here to win. Call him in. O, call him in. 150 A WEDDING SONG The Mother House of my heart, very empty you are — Quiet your happy, red bell. Ringing in rest to the throb of a star Swift where the long wishes swell. Here did she frolic from fancy to truth — Here danced her rosy-white feet, Down by the yellowy valleys of Youth Blossoming Love to their beat. Shut is the meek little lattice of dreams, Hiding the hoods of her play. Now, to the bend of the singing moonbeams, Love lifts the lilt of his lay. The Village Girls Return to the vales where the little lambs play, O daughter, dear daughter of light. The circle is broken, the children away, And stilled is their shout of delight. Come down to the pool where the rushes are green. And lead us with laughter once more. The dancers are idle, the ball never seen High-flung on the blossomy shore. A WEDDING SONG Now heaped in neglect are the garlands of flowers; O daughter, dear daughter of song, Come down to the turn of the young, happy hours And waken the joy of the throng. Sweet, here by the walls of your garden we wait, Low-calling you out to our play. Return, O return ere the hour be too late And dance to the dip of the day. She speaks not. She rests in the peace of her shrine. Away, for the calling is vain. She never will skip at the bend of the vine, Or chase us to Folly again. The Bfidegrooyn Pleasant are the ripe fruits growing by the wall, Slender the palm-tree Bending to the sea. Lovely is the red rose ere the petals fall. But my Love's beauty overpasses all. Give me. Dear, your white breast where my kiss may cling — Give me your soft eyes Lidded o'er with sighs. 153 A WEDDING SONG Listen, my Beloved, how the young girls sing And call you thither to their song's low swing. The Bride Rosemary, Alice and meek Coraline, Mirth of the morning is married to mine. Never again can I come to your call, Never dance after the ball. Soften your sighing. In dreams intcrlying Love is asleep in the chamber of rest. Waken him not. By the heart in my breast He is my Life-giving guest. Go from my garden away to your play. Go to the throng by the Buttercup Way. Here have I yielded my Girlhood's desire, Clear as a fountain of fire. I am my lover's. Whose fancy discovers All that is sweet on the tongue of Love's bell. Melodies loosed in its lift and its swell. Go, and for ever, farewell. 153 A WEDDING SONG The Bridegroom Beloved, Beloved, O, weep on my heart, Let the rivers of Memory start. The garlands of Childhood you gathered for me Shall blossom again at your knee. A fountain of flowers shall flow at my call When the birthday bells ring over all. And bring you again at the touch of a kiss The playtime delights that you miss. The Village Girls No longer wait. Let us away And join again the dance of day. She will not hear us though we cry A long Good-bye. She will not come to meet us now Where all the dew-sad blossoms bow. She will not leave her love again. Our song is vain. Let us away. The wood-doves call. The ripe wild fruit begins to fall. And by the willows bent In sleep The young lambs leap. 154 A WEDDING SONG Kiss hands to her. O, wave and go. The bluebells 'neath the morning blow; And toll a maiden's wedding knell: "Farewell, Farewell 1" Her thoughts and dreams no more are ours. Young Hymen honies all her hours. O aching hearts that beat to sigh, Go by. Go by. She knows a sweeter life than we, Deep-hidden in Love's ecstasy. Come! She will step our playtime shore No more, no more. 155 Printed by W. C, Penfold & Co. Ltd., 183 Pitt Street, Sydney Angus & Robertson's Recent Publications SELECTED POEMS OF HENRY LAWSON. Selected and carefully revised by Mr. Lawson during his residence on the Yanco Irrigation Settlement, and containing several new poems. 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