IV
"He moves me not at all;
I note no ray or jot
Of rareness in his lot,
Or star exceptional.
"He moves me not at all;
I note no ray or jot
Of rareness in his lot,
Or star exceptional.
Thomas Hardy - Poems of the Past and Present
)
SIRMIO, thou dearest dear of strands
That Neptune strokes in lake and sea,
With what high joy from stranger lands
Doth thy old friend set foot on thee!
Yea, barely seems it true to me
That no Bithynia holds me now,
But calmly and assuringly
Around me stretchest homely Thou.
Is there a scene more sweet than when
Our clinging cares are undercast,
And, worn by alien moils and men,
The long untrodden sill repassed,
We press the pined for couch at last,
And find a full repayment there?
Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast,
And art, mine own unrivalled Fair!
AFTER SCHILLER
KNIGHT, a true sister-love
This heart retains;
Ask me no other love,
That way lie pains!
Calm must I view thee come,
Calm see thee go;
Tale-telling tears of thine
I must not know!
SONG FROM HEINE
I SCANNED her picture dreaming,
Till each dear line and hue
Was imaged, to my seeming,
As if it lived anew.
Her lips began to borrow
Their former wondrous smile;
Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,
Grew sparkling as erstwhile.
Such tears as often ran not
Ran then, my love, for thee;
And O, believe I cannot
That thou are lost to me!
FROM VICTOR HUGO
CHILD, were I king, I'd yield my royal rule,
My chariot, sceptre, vassal-service due,
My crown, my porphyry-basined waters cool,
My fleets, whereto the sea is but a pool,
For a glance from you!
Love, were I God, the earth and its heaving airs,
Angels, the demons abject under me,
Vast chaos with its teeming womby lairs,
Time, space, all would I give--aye, upper spheres,
For a kiss from thee!
CARDINAL BEMBO'S EPITAPH ON RAPHAEL
HERE'S one in whom Nature feared--faint at such vying--
Eclipse while he lived, and decease at his dying.
RETROSPECT
"I HAVE LIVED WITH SHADES"
I
I HAVE lived with shades so long,
And talked to them so oft,
Since forth from cot and croft
I went mankind among,
That sometimes they
In their dim style
Will pause awhile
To hear my say;
II
And take me by the hand,
And lead me through their rooms
In the To-be, where Dooms
Half-wove and shapeless stand:
And show from there
The dwindled dust
And rot and rust
Of things that were.
III
"Now turn," spake they to me
One day: "Look whence we came,
And signify his name
Who gazes thence at thee. "--
--"Nor name nor race
Know I, or can,"
I said, "Of man
So commonplace.
IV
"He moves me not at all;
I note no ray or jot
Of rareness in his lot,
Or star exceptional.
Into the dim
Dead throngs around
He'll sink, nor sound
Be left of him. "
V
"Yet," said they, "his frail speech,
Hath accents pitched like thine--
Thy mould and his define
A likeness each to each--
But go! Deep pain
Alas, would be
His name to thee,
And told in vain! "
_Feb. _ 2, 1899.
MEMORY AND I
"O MEMORY, where is now my youth,
Who used to say that life was truth? "
"I saw him in a crumbled cot
Beneath a tottering tree;
That he as phantom lingers there
Is only known to me. "
"O Memory, where is now my joy,
Who lived with me in sweet employ? "
"I saw him in gaunt gardens lone,
Where laughter used to be;
That he as phantom wanders there
Is known to none but me. "
"O Memory, where is now my hope,
Who charged with deeds my skill and scope? "
"I saw her in a tomb of tomes,
Where dreams are wont to be;
That she as spectre haunteth there
Is only known to me. "
"O Memory, where is now my faith,
One time a champion, now a wraith? "
"I saw her in a ravaged aisle,
Bowed down on bended knee;
That her poor ghost outflickers there
Is known to none but me. "
"O Memory, where is now my love,
That rayed me as a god above? "
"I saw him by an ageing shape
Where beauty used to be;
That his fond phantom lingers there
Is only known to me.
SIRMIO, thou dearest dear of strands
That Neptune strokes in lake and sea,
With what high joy from stranger lands
Doth thy old friend set foot on thee!
Yea, barely seems it true to me
That no Bithynia holds me now,
But calmly and assuringly
Around me stretchest homely Thou.
Is there a scene more sweet than when
Our clinging cares are undercast,
And, worn by alien moils and men,
The long untrodden sill repassed,
We press the pined for couch at last,
And find a full repayment there?
Then hail, sweet Sirmio; thou that wast,
And art, mine own unrivalled Fair!
AFTER SCHILLER
KNIGHT, a true sister-love
This heart retains;
Ask me no other love,
That way lie pains!
Calm must I view thee come,
Calm see thee go;
Tale-telling tears of thine
I must not know!
SONG FROM HEINE
I SCANNED her picture dreaming,
Till each dear line and hue
Was imaged, to my seeming,
As if it lived anew.
Her lips began to borrow
Their former wondrous smile;
Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,
Grew sparkling as erstwhile.
Such tears as often ran not
Ran then, my love, for thee;
And O, believe I cannot
That thou are lost to me!
FROM VICTOR HUGO
CHILD, were I king, I'd yield my royal rule,
My chariot, sceptre, vassal-service due,
My crown, my porphyry-basined waters cool,
My fleets, whereto the sea is but a pool,
For a glance from you!
Love, were I God, the earth and its heaving airs,
Angels, the demons abject under me,
Vast chaos with its teeming womby lairs,
Time, space, all would I give--aye, upper spheres,
For a kiss from thee!
CARDINAL BEMBO'S EPITAPH ON RAPHAEL
HERE'S one in whom Nature feared--faint at such vying--
Eclipse while he lived, and decease at his dying.
RETROSPECT
"I HAVE LIVED WITH SHADES"
I
I HAVE lived with shades so long,
And talked to them so oft,
Since forth from cot and croft
I went mankind among,
That sometimes they
In their dim style
Will pause awhile
To hear my say;
II
And take me by the hand,
And lead me through their rooms
In the To-be, where Dooms
Half-wove and shapeless stand:
And show from there
The dwindled dust
And rot and rust
Of things that were.
III
"Now turn," spake they to me
One day: "Look whence we came,
And signify his name
Who gazes thence at thee. "--
--"Nor name nor race
Know I, or can,"
I said, "Of man
So commonplace.
IV
"He moves me not at all;
I note no ray or jot
Of rareness in his lot,
Or star exceptional.
Into the dim
Dead throngs around
He'll sink, nor sound
Be left of him. "
V
"Yet," said they, "his frail speech,
Hath accents pitched like thine--
Thy mould and his define
A likeness each to each--
But go! Deep pain
Alas, would be
His name to thee,
And told in vain! "
_Feb. _ 2, 1899.
MEMORY AND I
"O MEMORY, where is now my youth,
Who used to say that life was truth? "
"I saw him in a crumbled cot
Beneath a tottering tree;
That he as phantom lingers there
Is only known to me. "
"O Memory, where is now my joy,
Who lived with me in sweet employ? "
"I saw him in gaunt gardens lone,
Where laughter used to be;
That he as phantom wanders there
Is known to none but me. "
"O Memory, where is now my hope,
Who charged with deeds my skill and scope? "
"I saw her in a tomb of tomes,
Where dreams are wont to be;
That she as spectre haunteth there
Is only known to me. "
"O Memory, where is now my faith,
One time a champion, now a wraith? "
"I saw her in a ravaged aisle,
Bowed down on bended knee;
That her poor ghost outflickers there
Is known to none but me. "
"O Memory, where is now my love,
That rayed me as a god above? "
"I saw him by an ageing shape
Where beauty used to be;
That his fond phantom lingers there
Is only known to me.