Call off your eyes from care By some determined deftness; put forth joys Dear as excess without the core that cloys, And charm Life"s lourings fair.
Exalt and crown the hour That girdles us, and fill it full with glee, Blind glee, excelling aught could ever be Were heedfulness in power.
Send up such touching strains That limitless recruits from Fancy"s pack Shall rush upon your tongue, and tender back All that your soul contains.
For what do we know best?
That a fresh love-leaf crumpled soon will dry, And that men moment after moment die, Of all scope dispossest.
If I have seen one thing It is the pa.s.sing preciousness of dreams; That aspects are within us; and who seems Most kingly is the King.
1867: WESTBOURNE PARK VILLAS.
AT LULWORTH COVE A CENTURY BACK
Had I but lived a hundred years ago I might have gone, as I have gone this year, By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I know, And Time have placed his finger on me there:
"YOU SEE THAT MAN?"--I might have looked, and said, "O yes: I see him. One that boat has brought Which dropped down Channel round Saint Alban"s Head.
So commonplace a youth calls not my thought."
"YOU SEE THAT MAN?"--"Why yes; I told you; yes: Of an idling town-sort; thin; hair brown in hue; And as the evening light scants less and less He looks up at a star, as many do."
"YOU SEE THAT MAN?"--"Nay, leave me!" then I plead, "I have fifteen miles to vamp across the lea, And it grows dark, and I am weary-kneed: I have said the third time; yes, that man I see!
"Good. That man goes to Rome--to death, despair; And no one notes him now but you and I: A hundred years, and the world will follow him there, And bend with reverence where his ashes lie."
September 1920.
Note.--In September 1820 Keats, on his way to Rome, landed one day on the Dorset coast, and composed the sonnet, "Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art." The spot of his landing is judged to have been Lulworth Cove.
A BYGONE OCCASION (SONG)
That night, that night, That song, that song!
Will such again be evened quite Through lifetimes long?
No mirth was shown To outer seers, But mood to match has not been known In modern years.
O eyes that smiled, O lips that lured; That such would last was one beguiled To think ensured!
That night, that night, That song, that song; O drink to its recalled delight, Though tears may throng!
TWO SERENADES
I--On Christmas Eve
Late on Christmas Eve, in the street alone, Outside a house, on the pavement-stone, I sang to her, as we"d sung together On former eves ere I felt her tether. - Above the door of green by me Was she, her cas.e.m.e.nt seen by me; But she would not heed What I melodied In my soul"s sore need - She would not heed.
Ca.s.siopeia overhead, And the Seven of the Wain, heard what I said As I bent me there, and voiced, and fingered Upon the strings. . . . Long, long I lingered: Only the curtains hid from her One whom caprice had bid from her; But she did not come, And my heart grew numb And dull my strum; She did not come.
II--A Year Later
I skimmed the strings; I sang quite low; I hoped she would not come or know That the house next door was the one now dittied, Not hers, as when I had played unpitied; - Next door, where dwelt a heart fresh stirred, My new Love, of good will to me, Unlike my old Love chill to me, Who had not cared for my notes when heard: Yet that old Love came To the other"s name As hers were the claim; Yea, the old Love came
My viol sank mute, my tongue stood still, I tried to sing on, but vain my will: I prayed she would guess of the later, and leave me; She stayed, as though, were she slain by the smart, She would bear love"s burn for a newer heart.
The tense-drawn moment wrought to bereave me Of voice, and I turned in a dumb despair At her finding I"d come to another there.
Sick I withdrew At love"s grim hue Ere my last Love knew; Sick I withdrew.
From an old copy.
THE WEDDING MORNING
Tabitha dressed for her wedding:- "Tabby, why look so sad?"
"--O I feel a great gloominess spreading, spreading, Instead of supremely glad! . . .
"I called on Carry last night, And he came whilst I was there, Not knowing I"d called. So I kept out of sight, And I heard what he said to her:
""--Ah, I"d far liefer marry YOU, Dear, to-morrow!" he said, "But that cannot be."--O I"d give him to Carry, And willingly see them wed,
"But how can I do it when His baby will soon be born?
After that I hope I may die. And then She can have him. I shall not mourn!"
END OF THE YEAR 1912
You were here at his young beginning, You are not here at his aged end; Off he coaxed you from Life"s mad spinning, Lest you should see his form extend Shivering, sighing, Slowly dying, And a tear on him expend.
So it comes that we stand lonely In the star-lit avenue, Dropping broken lipwords only, For we hear no songs from you, Such as flew here For the new year Once, while six bells swung thereto.