Standing about the charméd root. As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks, If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three (Let it not be preach'd abroad) make an awful mystery: For the blossom unto threefold music bloweth; Evermore it is born anew, And the sap to threefold music floweth, From the root, Father Hesper, Father Hesper, Watch, watch, ever and aye, Looking under silver hair with a silver eye. Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight: Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die; Honour comes with mystery; Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the Sing away, sing aloúd evermore in the wind without stóp, (Anapen Lest his sealed eyelid drop, Rapidly levelling eager eyes. Dropping the eyelid over our eyes. III. Father Hesper, Father Hesper, Watch, watch, night and day, Lest the old wound of the world be The golden apple stol'n away, Wandering waters unto wandering waters call; Let them clash together, foam and fall morn. IV. Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath Of the warm seawind ripeneth, Arching the billow in his sleep: But the land-wind wandereth, Broken by the highland steep, Two streams upon the violet deep. For the Western Sun, and the Wester Star, And the low west-wind, breathing af The end of day and beginning of night, Keep the apple Holy and Bright: Holy and Bright, round and full, bright and blest, That little garden was her pride, *Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Com pany. THE ANTE-CHAMBER.* THAT is his portrait painted by himself. Look on those manly curls so glossy dark, Those thoughtful furrows in the swarthy cheek; Admire that stalwart shape, those ample brows, And that large table of the breast dispread, Between low shoulders; how demure a smile, How full of wisest humour and of love, With some half-consciousness of inward power, Sleeps round those quiet lips; not quite a smile; And look you. what an arch the brain has built Above the ear! and what a settled mind, Mature, harbour'd from change, contemplative, Tempers the peaceful light of hazel eyes, Observing all things. This is he I loved, This is the man of whom you heard me speak. My fancy was the more luxurious, But his was minted in a deeper mould, And took in more of Nature than mine own: Nor proved I such delight as he, to mark The humours of the polling and the wake, The hubbub of the market and the booths: How this one smiled, that other waved his arms, These careful and those candid brows, how each Down to his slightest turns and atti tudes Was something that another could not be, How every brake and flower spread and rose, A various world! which he compell'd once more Thro' his own nature, with well mingled hues, Into another shape, born of the first, All this so stirr'd him in his hour of joy, Mix'd with the phantom of his coming fame, That once he spake: "I lift the eyes of thought, I look thro' all my glimmering life, I see At the end, as 'twere athwart a colour's cloud, O'er the bow'd shoulder of a bland old Age, The face of placid Death." Long, Eustace, long May my strong wish, transgressing the low bound Of mortal hope, act on Eternity To keep thee here amongst us! Yet he lives; His and my friendship have not suffer'd loss, His fame is equal to his years: his praise Is neither overdealt, nor idly won. Step thro' these doors, and I will show to you Another countenance, one yet more dear, More dear, for what is lost is made more dear; "More dear" I will not say, but rather bless The All-perfect Framer, Him, who made the heart, Forethinking its twinfold necessity, Thro' one whole life an overflowing 1, Capacious both of Friendship and Love. *Copyright, 1897, by The Macmillan Com pany. THREE POEMS OMITTED FROM "IN MEMORIAM." THE GRAVE (Originally No. LVII.).* I. I KEEP no more a lone distress, The crowd have come to see thy grave, Small thanks or credit shall I have, But these shall see it none the less. We quarrel here at home, and they plot against us yonder, They will not let an honest Briton sit at home at ease: Up, Jack Tars, my hearties! and the d-l take the parties! Up and save the pride of the Mistress of the Seas! Up, Jack Tars, and save us! The whole world shall not brave us! Up and save the pride of the Mistress of the Seas! The lasses and the little ones, Jack Tars, they look to you! The despots over yonder, let 'em do whate'er they please! God bless the little isle where a man may still be true! God bless the noble isle that is Mistress of the Seas! Up, Jack Tars, and save us! The whole world shall not brave us! If you will save the pride of the Mistress of the Seas. |