FullReads

vii

“‘Twas when you went away and left
Me and pain alone,
By fortune’s theft I stood bereft
Of all I’d counted on–
And this also, I ne’er could go
On my shepherd life,
Without I had the grace to woo
You my loving wife.

“There was a fate, I do believe,
Call’d us together;
God visit me when’er you grieve
Taking on my tether!
But if we share with every creature
That is quick and dead
The call of nature unto nature,
Then we two should wed.

“You are a beauty bred and born,
As any one can see;
You walk the world as if in scorn
Of riches or degree.
Your eyes call home the soft green tone
Of the fainting sky
When the eve-star keeps watch alone,
And the summer is nigh.

“But ’tis your grave and constant mind
Beckon’d me to you,
Too good, too sweet, too fond, too kind,
For me to be untrue.
So trust me, lass, I’ll not be false
While I do live,
For we two go where Nature calls,
As I believe.”

viii

Trust! Oh, I could have sunk to ground
And lain under his feet!
To have his praise was like a wound,
Throbbing and deadly sweet;
A wound that lets the welling blood
Ebb from the vein,
Merging the hurt in drowsihood,
And hushing down the pain.

High destiny of Nature’s calling,
Foil’d and frustrate!
Just then the evil tide was crawling
To drown love in hate.

V

i

The meadows wear a cloth of gold,
The trees wear green;
Upon the down in dimpled fold
The white lambs glean;
Deep blue the skyey canopy,
Soft the wind’s fan:
Behold the earth as it might be
If man lov’d man!

Summer is soon; the next new moon
Will see the yellowing wheat;
Then will be harvest, Earth’s high boon
To them that work for it.
The reapers swink, the heat-waves blink
Across the drowsy fen–
Now let hearts shrink from scythes that drink
The blood of young men!

ii

As I stood at my open door
I caught a flying word:
Two strangers past, “Then that means war—-“
That was what I heard.
‘Twas ten o’clock, a summer’s day,
My love on the hill.
“Then that means war,” I heard them say,
And my heart stood still.

Life had been fair as I stood there,
Eight weeks a bride;
All of me laid warm and bare
To my true love’s side!
Oh, who should dream of dark to-morrows
And lonely weeping
Whose steadfast joys and passing sorrows
Lay in such a keeping?

There blew a chill wind from the hill
Like a sea-breath;
I shiver’d and a taint of ill
Brought news of death.
I blinkt my eyes as who should try
To see what is to fear;
The sun still shone high in the sky,
But no warmth there.

Then far away I saw the sea
A rippling golden sheet,
And courage flowed again in me–
What foe could break thro’ it?
And all about the fields and hedges,
There when I was born,
The river slipping through the sedges,
And the growing corn–

A land of quiet tilth and cote,
Of little woods and streams,
Of gentle skies and clouds afloat,
And swift sun-gleams!
A land where knee-deep cattle keep,
Chewing as they stand;
Of hillsides murmurous with sheep–
That is my native land!

They say you never love so dear
As when you are to part;
I know, to see my land so clear
Cut me to the heart.
What vain regrets to have lov’d so ill
What was our all!
What idle vows to love her still
Though she should fall!