He lay awake, with a harassed air, And she, in her cloud of loose lank hair, Seemed trouble-tried
I do not wish to win your vow To take me soon or late as bride, And lift me from the nook where now
SCHERZANDO "So back you have come from the town, Nan, dear! And have you seen him there, or near -
I marked when the weather changed, And the panes began to quake, And the winds rose up and ranged,
Attentive eyes, fantastic heed, Assessing minds, he does not need, Nor urgent writs to sup or dine,
(A Reminiscence) She wore a new "terra-cotta" dress, And we stayed, because of the pelting storm,
Yes; such it was; Just those two seasons unsought, Sweeping like summertide wind on our ways;
This is the story a man told me Of his life's one day of dreamery. A woman came into his room
The railway bore him through An earthen cutting out from a city: There was no scope for view,
Black'on frowns east on Maidon, And westward to the sea, But on neither is his frown laden
On afternoons of drowsy calm We stood in the panelled pew, Singing one-voiced a Tate-and-Brady psalm
Wit, weight, or wealth there was not In anything that was said, In anything that was done;
I There had been years of Passion scorching, cold, And much Despair, and Anger heaving high,
(in Memoriam F. W. G.) Orion swung southward aslant Where the starved Egdon pine-trees had thinned,
They parted a pallid, trembling I pair, And rushing down the lane He left her lonely near me there;
"O England, may God punish thee!" - Is it that Teuton genius flowers Only to breathe malignity
(March, 1887) O epic-famed, god-haunted Central Sea, Heave careless of the deep wrong done to thee
(A Memory Of Christiana C-) Where Blackmoor was, the road that led To Bath, she could not show,
In a heavy time I dogged myself Along a louring way, Till my leading self to my following self
No use hoping, or feeling vext, Tugged by a force above or under Like some fantocine, much I wonder
(In - Church) The two were silent in a sunless church, Whose mildewed walls, uneven paving-stones,
Upon a poet's page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent thought
I met a man when night was nigh, Who said, with shining face and eye Like Moses' after Sinai:-
I rose up as my custom is On the eve of All-Souls' day, And left my grave for an hour or so
I travel as a phantom now, For people do not wish to see In flesh and blood so bare a bough
I was not he the man Who used to pilgrim to your gate, At whose smart step you grew elate,
I was the midmost of my world When first I frisked me free, For though within its circuit gleamed
I "You look like a widower," she said Through the folding-doors with a laugh from the bed,
In the middle of the night Mother's spirit came and spoke to me, Looking weariful and white -
(April, 1887) I traced the Circus whose gray stones incline Where Rome and dim Etruria interjoin,
I lay in my bed and fiddled With a dreamland viol and bow, And the tunes flew back to my fingers
What curious things we said, What curious things we did Up there in the world we walked till dead
"It never looks like summer here On Beeny by the sea." But though she saw its look as drear,
Sing; how 'a would sing! How 'a would raise the tune When we rode in the waggon from harvesting
"O memory, where is now my youth, Who used to say that life was truth?" "I saw him in a crumbled cot
(Nocturne) I wayfared at the nadir of the sun Where populations meet, though seen of none;
"Alive?" And I leapt in my wonder, Was faint of my joyance, And grasses and grove shone in garments
I could hear a gown-skirt rustling Before I could see her shape, Rustling through the heather
The swallows flew in the curves of an eight Above the river-gleam In the wet June's last beam:
I went by footpath and by stile Beyond where bustle ends, Strayed here a mile and there a mile
I paused to read a letter of hers By the moon's cold shine, Eyeing it in the tenderest way,
They bear him to his resting-place - In slow procession sweeping by; I follow at a stranger's space;
She did not turn, But passed foot-faint with averted head In her gown of green, by the bobbing fern,
O do not praise my beauty more, In such word-wild degree, And say I am one all eyes adore;
That no man schemed it is my hope - Yea, that it fell by will and scope Of That Which some enthrone,
While he was here in breath and bone, To speak to and to see, Would I had known more clearly known -
Why do you harbour that great cheval-glass Filling up your narrow room? You never preen or plume,
You say, O Sage, when weather-checked, "I have been favoured so With cloudless skies, I must expect
How it came to an end! The meeting afar from the crowd, And the love-looks and laughters unpenned,
I plodded to Fairmile Hill-top, where A maiden one fain would guard From every hazard and every care
I Sinking down by the gate I discern the thin moon, And a blackbird tries over old airs in the pine,
"It was not you I came to please, Only myself," flipped she; "I like this spot of phantasies,
"Whenever you dress me dolls, mammy, Why do you dress them so, And make them gallant soldiers,
I am laughing by the brook with her, Splashed in its tumbling stir; And then it is a blankness looms
The fiddler knows what's brewing To the lilt of his lyric wiles: The fiddler knows what rueing
I say, "She was as good as fair," When standing by her mound; "Such passing sweetness," I declare,
I longed to love a full-boughed beech And be as high as he: I stretched an arm within his reach,
"O passenger, pray list and catch Our sighs and piteous groans, Half stifled in this jumbled patch
Creak, little wood thing, creak, When I touch you with elbow or knee; That is the way you speak
I found me in a great surging space, At either end a door, And I said: "What is this giddying place,
I have seen her in gowns the brightest, Of azure, green, and red, And in the simplest, whitest,
An Incident Of 1883 "Sir, will you let me give you a ride? Nox Venit, and the heath is wide."
I do not see the hills around, Nor mark the tints the copses wear; I do not note the grassy ground
While I watch the Christmas blaze Paint the room with ruddy rays, Something makes my vision glide
"If ever I walk to church to wed, As other maidens use, And face the gathered eyes," she said,
A bird bills the selfsame song, With never a fault in its flow, That we listened to here those long
There was a singing woman Came riding across the mead At the time of the mild May weather,
(An Incident Of Froom Valley) "Thy husband poor, poor Heart! is dead Dead, out by Moreford Rise;
(Student's Love-song) Once more the cauldron of the sun Smears the bookcase with winy red,
In the heart of night, When farers were not near, The left house said to the house on the right,
I The dubious daylight ended, And I walked the Town alone, unminding whither bound and why,
I wayed by star and planet shine Towards the dear one's home At Kingsbere, there to make her mine
My father was the whipper-in, - Is still if I'm not misled? And now I see, where the hedge is thin,
A stranger, I threaded sunken-hearted A lamp-lit crowd; And anon there passed me a soul departed,
When he lit the candles there, And the light fell on his hand, And it trembled as he scanned
I travelled to where in her lifetime She'd knelt at morning prayer, To call her up as if there;
Sunned in the South, and here to-day; - If all organic things Be sentient, Flowers, as some men say,
Does he want you down there In the Nether Glooms where The hours may be a dragging load upon him,
"It is a foolish thing," said I, "To bear with such, and pass it by; Yet so I do, I know not why!"
(1793) BY CORP'L TULLIDGE: see "The Trumpet-Major" IN MEMORY OF S. C. (PENSIONER). DIED 184-
A baby watched a ford, whereto A wagtail came for drinking; A blaring bull went wading through,
(Bournemouth, 1875) We sat at the window looking out, And the rain came down like silken strings
What did it mean that noontide, when You bade me pluck the flower Within the other woman's bower,
Dishevelled leaves creep down Upon that bank to-day, Some green, some yellow, and some pale brown;
It was what you bore with you, Woman, Not inly were, That throned you from all else human,