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      Till Doom's great day be!

Sunday; August 13; 1916。



AT THE WORD 〃FAREWELL〃



She looked like a bird from a cloud
   On the clammy lawn;
Moving alone; bare…browed
   In the dim of dawn。
The candles alight in the room
   For my parting meal
Made all things withoutdoors loom
   Strange; ghostly; unreal。

The hour itself was a ghost;
   And it seemed to me then
As of chances the chance furthermost
   I should see her again。
I beheld not where all was so fleet
   That a Plan of the past
Which had ruled us from birthtime to meet
   Was in working at last:

No prelude did I there perceive
   To a drama at all;
Or foreshadow what fortune might weave
   From beginnings so small;
But I rose as if quicked by a spur
   I was bound to obey;
And stepped through the casement to her
   Still alone in the gray。

〃I am leaving you 。 。 。 Farewell!〃 I said;
   As I followed her on
By an alley bare boughs overspread;
   〃I soon must be gone!〃
Even then the scale might have been turned
   Against love by a feather;
… But crimson one cheek of hers burned
   When we came in together。



FIRST SIGHT OF HER AND AFTER



A day is drawing to its fall
   I had not dreamed to see;
The first of many to enthrall
   My spirit; will it be?
Or is this eve the end of all
   Such new delight for me?

I journey home:  the pattern grows
   Of moonshades on the way:
〃Soon the first quarter; I suppose;〃
   Sky…glancing travellers say;
I realize that it; for those;
   Has been a common day。



THE RIVAL



   I determined to find out whose it was …
   The portrait he looked at so; and sighed;
Bitterly have I rued my meanness
      And wept for it since he died!

   I searched his desk when he was away;
   And there was the likenessyes; my own!
Taken when I was the season's fairest;
      And time…lines all unknown。

   I smiled at my image; and put it back;
   And he went on cherishing it; until
I was chafed that he loved not the me then living;
      But that past woman still。

   Well; such was my jealousy at last;
   I destroyed that face of the former me;
Could you ever have dreamed the heart of woman
      Would work so foolishly!



HEREDITY



I am the family face;
Flesh perishes; I live on;
Projecting trait and trace
Through time to times anon;
And leaping from place to place
Over oblivion。

The years…heired feature that can
In curve and voice and eye
Despise the human span
Of durancethat is I;
The eternal thing in man;
That heeds no call to die。



〃YOU WERE THE SORT THAT MEN FORGET〃



   You were the sort that men forget;
      Though Inot yet! …
Perhaps not ever。  Your slighted weakness
   Adds to the strength of my regret!

   You'd not the artyou never had
      For good or bad …
To make men see how sweet your meaning;
   Which; visible; had charmed them glad。

   You would; by words inept let fall;
      Offend them all;
Even if they saw your warm devotion
   Would hold your life's blood at their call。

   You lacked the eye to understand
      Those friends offhand
Whose mode was crude; though whose dim purport
   Outpriced the courtesies of the bland。

   I am now the only being who
      Remembers you
It may be。  What a waste that Nature
   Grudged soul so dear the art its due!



SHE; I; AND THEY



      I was sitting;
      She was knitting;
And the portraits of our fore…folk hung around;
   When there struck on us a sigh;
   〃Ahwhat is that?〃 said I:
〃Was it not you?〃 said she。  〃A sigh did sound。〃

      I had not breathed it;
      Nor the night…wind heaved it;
And how it came to us we could not guess;
   And we looked up at each face
   Framed and glazed there in its place;
Still hearkening; but thenceforth was silentness。

      Half in dreaming;
      〃Then its meaning;〃
Said we; 〃must be surely this; that they repine
   That we should be the last
   Of stocks once unsurpassed;
And unable to keep up their sturdy line。〃

1916。



NEAR LANIVET; 1872



There was a stunted handpost just on the crest;
   Only a few feet high:
She was tired; and we stopped in the twilight…time for her rest;
   At the crossways close thereby。

She leant back; being so weary; against its stem;
   And laid her arms on its own;
Each open palm stretched out to each end of them;
   Her sad face sideways thrown。

Her white…clothed form at this dim…lit cease of day
   Made her look as one crucified
In my gaze at her from the midst of the dusty way;
   And hurriedly 〃Don't;〃 I cried。

I do not think she heard。  Loosing thence she said;
   As she stepped forth ready to go;
〃I am rested now。Something strange came into my head;
   I wish I had not leant so!〃

And wordless we moved onward down from the hill
   In the west cloud's murked obscure;
And looking back we could see the handpost still
   In the solitude of the moor。

〃It struck her too;〃 I thought; for as if afraid
   She heavily breathed as we trailed;
Till she said; 〃I did not think how 'twould look in the shade;
   When I leant there like one nailed。〃

I; lightly:  〃There's nothing in it。  For YOU; anyhow!〃
  〃O I know there is not;〃 said she 。 。 。
〃Yet I wonder 。  。  。 If no one is bodily crucified now;
   In spirit one may be!〃

And we dragged on and on; while we seemed to see
   In the running of Time's far glass
Her crucified; as she had wondered if she might be
   Some day。Alas; alas!



JOYS OF MEMORY



   When the spring comes round; and a certain day
Looks out from the brume by the eastern copsetrees
         And says; Remember;
      I begin again; as if it were new;
      A day of like date I once lived through;
      Whiling it hour by hour away;
         So shall I do till my December;
            When spring comes round。

   I take my holiday then and my rest
Away from the dun life here about me;
         Old hours re…greeting
      With the quiet sense that bring they must
      Such throbs as at first; till I house with dust;
      And in the numbness my heartsome zest
         For things that were; be past repeating
            When spring comes round。



TO THE MOON



   〃What have you looked at; Moon;
      In your time;
   Now long past your prime?〃
〃O; I have looked at; often looked at
      Sweet; sublime;
Sore things; shudderful; night and noon
      In my time。〃

   〃What have you mused on; Moon;
      In your day;
   So aloof; so far away?〃
〃O; I have mused on; often mused on
      Growth; decay;
Nations alive; dead; mad; aswoon;
      In my day!〃

   〃Have you much wondered; Moon;
      On your rounds;
   Self…wrapt; beyond Earth's bounds?〃
〃Yea; I have wondered; often wondered
      At the sounds
Reaching me of the human tune
      On my rounds。〃

   〃What do you think of it; Moon;
      As you go?
   Is Life much; or no?〃
〃O; I think of it; often think of it
      As a show
God ought surely to shut up soon;
      As I go。〃



COPYING ARCHITECTURE IN AN OLD MINSTER
(Wimborne)



   How smartly the quarters of the hour march by
      That the jack…o'…clock never forgets;
   Ding…dong; and before I have traced a cusp's eye;
Or got the true twist of the ogee over;
         A double ding…dong ricochetts。

   Just so did he clang here before I came;
      And so will he clang when I'm gone
   Through the Minster's cavernous hollowsthe same
Tale of hours never more to be will he deliver
      To the speechless midnight and dawn!

   I grow to conceive it a call to ghosts;
      Whose mould lies below and around。
   Yes; the next 〃Come; come;〃 draws them out from their posts;
And they gather; and one shade appears; and another;
      As the eve…damps creep from the ground。

   Seea Courtenay stands by his quatre…foiled tomb;
      And a Duke and his Duchess near;
   And one Sir Edmund in columned gloom;
And a Saxon king by the presbytery chamber;
      And shapes unknown in the rear。

   Maybe they have met for a parle on some plan
      To better ail…stricken mankind;
   I catch their cheepings; though thinner than
The overhead creak of a passager's pinion
      When leaving land behind。

   Or perhaps they speak to the yet unborn;
      And caution them not to come
   To a world so ancient and trouble…torn;
Of foiled intents; vain lovingkindness;
      And ardours chilled and numb。

   They waste to fog as I stir and stand;
      And move from the arched recess;
   And pick up the drawing that slipped from my hand;
And feel for the pencil I dropped in the cranny
      In a moment's forgetfulness。



TO SHAKESPEARE
AFTER THREE HUNDRED YEARS



   Bright baffling Soul; least capturable of themes;
   Thou; who display'dst a life of common…place;
   Leaving no intimate word or personal trace
   Of high design outside the artistry
      Of thy penned dreams;
Still shalt remain at heart unread eternally。

   Through human orbits thy discourse to…day;
   Despite thy formal pilgrimage; throbs on
   In harmonies that cow Oblivion;
   And; like the wind; with all…uncared effect
      Maintain a sway
Not fore…desired; in tracks unchosen and unchecked。

   And y

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