《songs of travel》

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We have lived of yore;

O; we have loved of yore。





XIII … MATER TRIUMPHANS





SON of my woman's body; you go; to the drum and fife;

To taste the colour of love and the other side of life …

From out of the dainty the rude; the strong from out of the frail;

Eternally through the ages from the female comes the male。



The ten fingers and toes; and the shell…like nail on each;

The eyes blind as gems and the tongue attempting speech;

Impotent hands in my bosom; and yet they shall wield the sword!

Drugged with slumber and milk; you wait the day of the Lord。



Infant bridegroom; uncrowned king; unanointed priest;

Soldier; lover; explorer; I see you nuzzle the breast。

You that grope in my bosom shall load the ladies with rings;

You; that came forth through the doors; shall burst the doors of kings。





XIV





BRIGHT is the ring of words

When the right man rings them;

Fair the fall of songs

When the singer sings them。

Still they are carolled and said …

On wings they are carried …

After the singer is dead

And the maker buried。



Low as the singer lies

In the field of heather;

Songs of his fashion bring

The swains together。

And when the west is red

With the sunset embers;

The lover lingers and sings

And the maid remembers。





XV





IN the highlands; in the country places;

Where the old plain men have rosy faces;

And the young fair maidens

Quiet eyes;

Where essential silence cheers and blesses;

And for ever in the hill…recesses

Her more lovely music

Broods and dies。



O to mount again where erst I haunted;

Where the old red hills are bird…enchanted;

And the low green meadows

Bright with sward;

And when even dies; the million…tinted;

And the night has come; and planets glinted;

Lo; the valley hollow

Lamp…bestarred!



O to dream; O to awake and wander

There; and with delight to take and render;

Through the trance of silence;

Quiet breath;

Lo! for there; among the flowers and grasses;

Only the mightier movement sounds and passes;

Only winds and rivers;

Life and death。





XVI (To the tune of Wandering Willie)





HOME no more home to me; whither must I wander?

Hunger my driver; I go where I must。

Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather;

Thick drives the rain; and my roof is in the dust。

Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof…tree。

The true word of welcome was spoken in the door …

Dear days of old; with the faces in the firelight;

Kind folks of old; you come again no more。



Home was home then; my dear; full of kindly faces;

Home was home then; my dear; happy for the child。

Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland;

Song; tuneful song; built a palace in the wild。

Now; when day dawns on the brow of the moorland;

Lone stands the house; and the chimney…stone is cold。

Lone let it stand; now the friends are all departed;

The kind hearts; the true hearts; that loved the place of old。



Spring shall come; come again; calling up the moorfowl;

Spring shall bring the sun and rain; bring the bees and 

flowers;

Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley;

Soft flow the stream through the even…flowing hours;

Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood …

Fair shine the day on the house with open door;

Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney …

But I go for ever and come again no more。





XVII … WINTER





IN rigorous hours; when down the iron lane

The redbreast looks in vain

For hips and haws;

Lo; shining flowers upon my window…pane

The silver pencil of the winter draws。



When all the snowy hill

And the bare woods are still;

When snipes are silent in the frozen bogs;

And all the garden garth is whelmed in mire;

Lo; by the hearth; the laughter of the logs …

More fair than roses; lo; the flowers of fire!





Saranac Lake。





XVIII





THE stormy evening closes now in vain;

Loud wails the wind and beats the driving rain;

While here in sheltered house

With fire…ypainted walls;

I hear the wind abroad;

I hark the calling squalls …

'Blow; blow;' I cry; 'you burst your cheeks in vain!

Blow; blow;' I cry; 'my love is home again!'



Yon ship you chase perchance but yesternight

Bore still the precious freight of my delight;

That here in sheltered house

With fire…ypainted walls;

Now hears the wind abroad;

Now harks the calling squalls。

'Blow; blow;' I cry; 'in vain you rouse the sea;

My rescued sailor shares the fire with me!'





XIX … TO DR。 HAKE (On receiving a Copy of Verses)





IN the beloved hour that ushers day;

In the pure dew; under the breaking grey;

One bird; ere yet the woodland quires awake;

With brief reveille summons all the brake:

Chirp; chirp; it goes; nor waits an answer long;

And that small signal fills the grove with song。



Thus on my pipe I breathed a strain or two;

It scarce was music; but 'twas all I knew。

It was not music; for I lacked the art;

Yet what but frozen music filled my heart?



Chirp; chirp; I went; nor hoped a nobler strain;

But Heaven decreed I should not pipe in vain;

For; lo! not far from there; in secret dale;

All silent; sat an ancient nightingale。

My sparrow notes he heard; thereat awoke;

And with a tide of song his silence broke。





XX … TO …





I KNEW thee strong and quiet like the hills;

I knew thee apt to pity; brave to endure;

In peace or war a Roman full equipt;

And just I knew thee; like the fabled kings

Who by the loud sea…shore gave judgment forth;

From dawn to eve; bearded and few of words。

What; what; was I to honour thee?  A child;

A youth in ardour but a child in strength;

Who after virtue's golden chariot…wheels

Runs ever panting; nor attains the goal。

So thought I; and was sorrowful at heart。



Since then my steps have visited that flood

Along whose shore the numerous footfalls cease;

The voices and the tears of life expire。

Thither the prints go down; the hero's way

Trod large upon the sand; the trembling maid's:

Nimrod that wound his trumpet in the wood;

And the poor; dreaming child; hunter of flowers;

That here his hunting closes with the great:

So one and all go down; nor aught returns。



For thee; for us; the sacred river waits;

For me; the unworthy; thee; the perfect friend;

There Blame desists; there his unfaltering dogs

He from the chase recalls; and homeward rides;

Yet Praise and Love pass over and go in。

So when; beside that margin; I discard

My more than mortal weakness; and with thee

Through that still land unfearing I advance:

If then at all we keep the touch of joy

Thou shalt rejoice to find me altered … I;

O Felix; to behold thee still unchanged。





XXI





THE morning drum…call on my eager ear

Thrills unforgotten yet; the morning dew

Lies yet undried along my field of noon。



But now I pause at whiles in what I do;

And count the bell; and tremble lest I hear

(My work untrimmed) the sunset gun too soon。





XXII





I HAVE trod the upward and the downward slope;

I have endured and done in days before;

I have longed for all; and bid farewell to hope;

And I have lived and loved; and closed the door。





XXIII





HE hears with gladdened heart the thunder

Peal; and loves the falling dew;

He knows the earth above and under …

Sits and is content to view。



He sits beside the dying ember;

God for hope and man for friend;

Content to see; glad to remember;

Expectant of the certain end。





XXIV





FAREWELL; fair day and fading light!

The clay…born here; with westward sight;

Marks the huge sun now downward soar。

Farewell。  We twain shall meet no more。



Farewell。  I watch with bursting sigh

My late contemned occasion die。

I linger useless in my tent:

Farewell; fair day; so foully spent!



Farewell; fair day。  If any God

At all consider this poor clod;

He who the fair occasion sent

Prepared and placed the impediment。



Let him diviner vengeance take …

Give me to sleep; give me to wake

Girded and shod; and bid me play

The hero in the coming day!





XXV … IF THIS WERE FAITH





GOD; if this were enough;

That I see things bare to the buff

And up to the buttocks in mire;

That I ask nor hope nor hire;

Nut in the husk;

Nor dawn beyond the dusk;

Nor life beyond death:

God; if this were faith?



Having felt thy wind in my face

Spit sorrow and disgrace;

Having seen thine evil doom

In Golgotha and Khartoum;

And the brutes; the work of thine hands;

Fill with injustice lands

And stain with blood the sea:

If still in my veins the glee

Of the black night and the sun

And the lost battle; run:

If; an adept;

The iniquitous lists I still accept

With joy; and joy to endure and be withstood;

And still to battle and perish for a dream of good:

God; if that were enough?



If to feel; in the ink of the slough;

And the sink of the mire;

Veins of glory and fire

Run through and transpierce and transpire;

And a secret purpose of glory in every part;

And the answering glory of battle fill my heart;

To thrill with the joy of girded men

To go on for ever and fail and go on again;

And be mauled to the earth and arise;

And contend for the shade of a word and a thing not seen with 

the eyes:

With the half of a broken hope for a pillow at night

That somehow the right is the right

And the smooth shall bloom from the rough:

Lord; if that were enough?





XXVI … MY WIFE





TRUSTY; dusky; vivid; true;

With eyes of gold and bramble…dew;

Steel…true and blade…straight;

The great artificer

Made my mate。



Honour; anger; valour; fire;

A love that life could never tire;

Death quench or evil stir;

The mighty master

Gave to her。



Teacher; tender; comrade; wife;

A fellow…farer true through life;

Heart…whole 
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