The sun threw down a radiant spot On the face in the winding-sheet - The face it had lit when a babe"s in its cot; And the sun knew not, and the face knew not That soon they would no more meet.

Now that the grave has shut its door, And lets not in one ray, Do they wonder that they meet no more - That face and its beaming visitor - That met so many a day?

December 1915.

IN A LONDON FLAT

I



"You look like a widower," she said Through the folding-doors with a laugh from the bed, As he sat by the fire in the outer room, Reading late on a night of gloom, And a cab-hack"s wheeze, and the clap of its feet In its breathless pace on the smooth wet street, Were all that came to them now and then . . .

"You really do!" she quizzed again.

II

And the Spirits behind the curtains heard, And also laughed, amused at her word, And at her light-hearted view of him.

"Let"s get him made so--just for a whim!"

Said the Phantom Ironic. ""Twould serve her right If we coaxed the Will to do it some night."

"O pray not!" pleaded the younger one, The Sprite of the Pities. "She said it in fun!"

III

But so it befell, whatever the cause, That what she had called him he next year was; And on such a night, when she lay elsewhere, He, watched by those Phantoms, again sat there, And gazed, as if gazing on far faint sh.o.r.es, At the empty bed through the folding-doors As he remembered her words; and wept That she had forgotten them where she slept.

DRAWING DETAILS IN AN OLD CHURCH

I hear the bell-rope sawing, And the oil-less axle grind, As I sit alone here drawing What some Gothic brain designed; And I catch the toll that follows From the lagging bell, Ere it spreads to hills and hollows Where the parish people dwell.

I ask not whom it tolls for, Incurious who he be; So, some morrow, when those knolls for One unguessed, sound out for me, A stranger, loitering under In nave or choir, May think, too, "Whose, I wonder?"

But care not to inquire.

RAKE-h.e.l.l MUSES

Yes; since she knows not need, Nor walks in blindness, I may without unkindness A true thing tell:

Which would be truth, indeed, Though worse in speaking, Were her poor footsteps seeking A pauper"s cell.

I judge, then, better far She now have sorrow, Than gladness that to-morrow Might know its knell. -

It may be men there are Could make of union A lifelong sweet communion - A pa.s.sioned spell;

But _I_, to save her name And bring salvation By altar-affirmation And bridal bell;

I, by whose rash unshame These tears come to her:- My faith would more undo her Than my farewell!

Chained to me, year by year My moody madness Would wither her old gladness Like famine fell.

She"ll take the ill that"s near, And bear the blaming.

"Twill pa.s.s. Full soon her shaming They"ll cease to yell.

Our unborn, first her moan, Will grow her guerdon, Until from blot and burden A joyance swell;

In that therein she"ll own My good part wholly, My evil staining solely My own vile vell.

Of the disgrace, may be "He shunned to share it, Being false," they"ll say. I"ll bear it; Time will dispel

The calumny, and prove This much about me, That she lives best without me Who would live well.

That, this once, not self-love But good intention Pleads that against convention We two rebel.

For, is one moonlight dance, One midnight pa.s.sion, A rock whereon to fashion Life"s citadel?

Prove they their power to prance Life"s miles together From upper slope to nether Who trip an ell?

- Years hence, or now apace, May tongues be calling News of my further falling Sinward pell-mell:

Then this great good will grace Our lives" division, She"s saved from more misprision Though I plumb h.e.l.l.

189-

THE COLOUR (The following lines are partly made up, partly remembered from a Wess.e.x folk-rhyme)

"What shall I bring you?

Please will white do Best for your wearing The long day through?"

"--White is for weddings, Weddings, weddings, White is for weddings, And that won"t do."

"What shall I bring you?

Please will red do Best for your wearing The long day through?"

" --Red is for soldiers, Soldiers, soldiers, Red is for soldiers, And that won"t do."

"What shall I bring you?

Please will blue do Best for your wearing The long day through?"

"--Blue is for sailors, Sailors, sailors, Blue is for sailors, And that won"t do.

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