VII“When, on my left, along the crumbling wall,Sharp-graved against the pallid afterglow,I saw a funeral train, with sweeping pall,And mournful bearers in a double row.I rubbed my eyes, I looked again, and lo!No human forms composed that funeral train!”(The black cat’s eyes of gold-stone glitter so!He rises from the spot where he hath lainAnd listens well, as one who does not list in vain.)
VII“When, on my left, along the crumbling wall,Sharp-graved against the pallid afterglow,I saw a funeral train, with sweeping pall,And mournful bearers in a double row.I rubbed my eyes, I looked again, and lo!No human forms composed that funeral train!”(The black cat’s eyes of gold-stone glitter so!He rises from the spot where he hath lainAnd listens well, as one who does not list in vain.)
VII
“When, on my left, along the crumbling wall,
Sharp-graved against the pallid afterglow,
I saw a funeral train, with sweeping pall,
And mournful bearers in a double row.
I rubbed my eyes, I looked again, and lo!
No human forms composed that funeral train!”
(The black cat’s eyes of gold-stone glitter so!
He rises from the spot where he hath lain
And listens well, as one who does not list in vain.)
VIII“Folk say the Schloss was ever haunted ground;But tell us, father, what those mourners were.”The father answered, smiling as he frowned:“Now, if ’twere told by some strange traveller,I’d say, ‘Too much you tax our faith, good sir.’But truth was ever priceless unto me.Those mourners, clad in somber coats of fur,Were cats—no more, nor less! This I did see,And that the dead grimalkin was of high degree.”
VIII“Folk say the Schloss was ever haunted ground;But tell us, father, what those mourners were.”The father answered, smiling as he frowned:“Now, if ’twere told by some strange traveller,I’d say, ‘Too much you tax our faith, good sir.’But truth was ever priceless unto me.Those mourners, clad in somber coats of fur,Were cats—no more, nor less! This I did see,And that the dead grimalkin was of high degree.”
VIII
“Folk say the Schloss was ever haunted ground;
But tell us, father, what those mourners were.”
The father answered, smiling as he frowned:
“Now, if ’twere told by some strange traveller,
I’d say, ‘Too much you tax our faith, good sir.’
But truth was ever priceless unto me.
Those mourners, clad in somber coats of fur,
Were cats—no more, nor less! This I did see,
And that the dead grimalkin was of high degree.”
IXUp, up the chimney go the sparks apace;Up, up, to vanish in the gusty sky.The black cat—look! he leaves his wonted place,And hark! he speaks: “Then, king of cats am I!“And with this first and last word for good-by,Up, up the chimney he hath vanished quite.“Our dear, our good Black Prince!” the children cry;“We always thought he should be king by right,But we shall miss him sadly, both by day and night.”
IXUp, up the chimney go the sparks apace;Up, up, to vanish in the gusty sky.The black cat—look! he leaves his wonted place,And hark! he speaks: “Then, king of cats am I!“And with this first and last word for good-by,Up, up the chimney he hath vanished quite.“Our dear, our good Black Prince!” the children cry;“We always thought he should be king by right,But we shall miss him sadly, both by day and night.”
IX
Up, up the chimney go the sparks apace;
Up, up, to vanish in the gusty sky.
The black cat—look! he leaves his wonted place,
And hark! he speaks: “Then, king of cats am I!“
And with this first and last word for good-by,
Up, up the chimney he hath vanished quite.
“Our dear, our good Black Prince!” the children cry;
“We always thought he should be king by right,
But we shall miss him sadly, both by day and night.”
XThe legend saith (I know no more than you,Reader of fairy lore with fancy fraught),That humble hearth nor evil fortune knew,Nor discontent. Long time the children soughtFor tidings of the lost; yet heard they naught;But sometimes, of a winter eventide,When all was bright within, the children thoughtThat, when they called up through the chimney wide,Thence, with a gentle purr, their olden friend replied.
XThe legend saith (I know no more than you,Reader of fairy lore with fancy fraught),That humble hearth nor evil fortune knew,Nor discontent. Long time the children soughtFor tidings of the lost; yet heard they naught;But sometimes, of a winter eventide,When all was bright within, the children thoughtThat, when they called up through the chimney wide,Thence, with a gentle purr, their olden friend replied.
X
The legend saith (I know no more than you,
Reader of fairy lore with fancy fraught),
That humble hearth nor evil fortune knew,
Nor discontent. Long time the children sought
For tidings of the lost; yet heard they naught;
But sometimes, of a winter eventide,
When all was bright within, the children thought
That, when they called up through the chimney wide,
Thence, with a gentle purr, their olden friend replied.
Wept the Child that no one knew,Wandering on, without a clew;Wept so softly none did stay;So, farther yet, he went astray.Cried the Lamb that missed the fold,Trembling more from fear than cold—“I am lost, and thou art lost—Both upon the wide world tossed!Why not wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather?”Then the Child that no one knewLooked through eyes that shone like dew.Laughed, and wept, “Lost as I am,Come with me, thou poor lost Lamb!”Moaned the youngling wood-dove leftBy the flock, of flight bereft,“Thou art lost, and we are lost—All upon the wide world tossed!Why not wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather?”Then the Child that no one knewCloser to the nestling drew,Hand beneath, and hand above,Thus he held the quivering Dove.Still they wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather,—Spotless Lamb and Dove and Child,Comrades in the lonesome wild;Child and Lamb and nestling Dove,—Truth and Innocence and Love!Blest their hearth, and blest their field,Who to these a shelter yield.
Wept the Child that no one knew,Wandering on, without a clew;Wept so softly none did stay;So, farther yet, he went astray.
Wept the Child that no one knew,
Wandering on, without a clew;
Wept so softly none did stay;
So, farther yet, he went astray.
Cried the Lamb that missed the fold,Trembling more from fear than cold—“I am lost, and thou art lost—Both upon the wide world tossed!Why not wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather?”
Cried the Lamb that missed the fold,
Trembling more from fear than cold—
“I am lost, and thou art lost—
Both upon the wide world tossed!
Why not wander on together,
Through the bright or cloudy weather?”
Then the Child that no one knewLooked through eyes that shone like dew.Laughed, and wept, “Lost as I am,Come with me, thou poor lost Lamb!”Moaned the youngling wood-dove leftBy the flock, of flight bereft,“Thou art lost, and we are lost—All upon the wide world tossed!Why not wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather?”
Then the Child that no one knew
Looked through eyes that shone like dew.
Laughed, and wept, “Lost as I am,
Come with me, thou poor lost Lamb!”
Moaned the youngling wood-dove left
By the flock, of flight bereft,
“Thou art lost, and we are lost—
All upon the wide world tossed!
Why not wander on together,
Through the bright or cloudy weather?”
Then the Child that no one knewCloser to the nestling drew,Hand beneath, and hand above,Thus he held the quivering Dove.Still they wander on together,Through the bright or cloudy weather,—Spotless Lamb and Dove and Child,Comrades in the lonesome wild;Child and Lamb and nestling Dove,—Truth and Innocence and Love!Blest their hearth, and blest their field,Who to these a shelter yield.
Then the Child that no one knew
Closer to the nestling drew,
Hand beneath, and hand above,
Thus he held the quivering Dove.
Still they wander on together,
Through the bright or cloudy weather,—
Spotless Lamb and Dove and Child,
Comrades in the lonesome wild;
Child and Lamb and nestling Dove,—
Truth and Innocence and Love!
Blest their hearth, and blest their field,
Who to these a shelter yield.
I sighed for flowers, in wintry hoursWhen gardens were a loveless waste;Mine eye fell on the pavement stone,There flowers and flowers and flowers were traced.For me alone, the pavement stone,That garden pleasance did prepare;Or else, would others stop to seeWhat flowers and flowers and flowers bloom there!
I sighed for flowers, in wintry hoursWhen gardens were a loveless waste;Mine eye fell on the pavement stone,There flowers and flowers and flowers were traced.
I sighed for flowers, in wintry hours
When gardens were a loveless waste;
Mine eye fell on the pavement stone,
There flowers and flowers and flowers were traced.
For me alone, the pavement stone,That garden pleasance did prepare;Or else, would others stop to seeWhat flowers and flowers and flowers bloom there!
For me alone, the pavement stone,
That garden pleasance did prepare;
Or else, would others stop to see
What flowers and flowers and flowers bloom there!
The stars are falling, are falling,By stream-side and meadow and wood;They silence the whispering leaves;And swiftly and softly they broodThe robin’s lone nest in the eaves.The stars are falling, are falling,Yet Night has lost never a one,Of all that are gathered below;To-morrow they’ll melt in the sun—For these are the stars of the snow.The stars are falling, are falling—Look! On your sleeve is a star!Six-pointed and perfect its form,Six-pointed its comrades are,—All, gems of this wonder-storm!
The stars are falling, are falling,By stream-side and meadow and wood;They silence the whispering leaves;And swiftly and softly they broodThe robin’s lone nest in the eaves.
The stars are falling, are falling,
By stream-side and meadow and wood;
They silence the whispering leaves;
And swiftly and softly they brood
The robin’s lone nest in the eaves.
The stars are falling, are falling,Yet Night has lost never a one,Of all that are gathered below;To-morrow they’ll melt in the sun—For these are the stars of the snow.
The stars are falling, are falling,
Yet Night has lost never a one,
Of all that are gathered below;
To-morrow they’ll melt in the sun—
For these are the stars of the snow.
The stars are falling, are falling—Look! On your sleeve is a star!Six-pointed and perfect its form,Six-pointed its comrades are,—All, gems of this wonder-storm!
The stars are falling, are falling—
Look! On your sleeve is a star!
Six-pointed and perfect its form,
Six-pointed its comrades are,—
All, gems of this wonder-storm!
Slow through the light and silent air,Up climbs the smoke on its spiral stair—The visible flight of some mortal’s prayer;The trees are in bloom with the flowers of frost,But never a feathery leaf is lost;The spring, descending, is caught and boundEre its silver feet can touch the ground;So still is the air that lies, this morn,Over the snow-cold fields forlorn,’Tis as though Italy’s heaven smiledIn the face of some bleak Norwegian wild;And the heart in me sings—I know not why—’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky!June in the sky! Ah, now I can seeThe souls of roses about to be,In gardens of heaven beckoning me,Roses red-lipped, and roses pale,Fanned by the tremulous ether gale!Some of them climbing a window-ledge,Some of them peering from wayside hedge,As yonder, adrift on the aery stream,Love drives his plumed and filleted team;The Angel of Summer aloft I see,And the souls of roses about to be!And the heart in me sings—the heart knows why—’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky.
Slow through the light and silent air,Up climbs the smoke on its spiral stair—The visible flight of some mortal’s prayer;The trees are in bloom with the flowers of frost,But never a feathery leaf is lost;
Slow through the light and silent air,
Up climbs the smoke on its spiral stair—
The visible flight of some mortal’s prayer;
The trees are in bloom with the flowers of frost,
But never a feathery leaf is lost;
The spring, descending, is caught and boundEre its silver feet can touch the ground;So still is the air that lies, this morn,Over the snow-cold fields forlorn,’Tis as though Italy’s heaven smiledIn the face of some bleak Norwegian wild;And the heart in me sings—I know not why—’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky!
The spring, descending, is caught and bound
Ere its silver feet can touch the ground;
So still is the air that lies, this morn,
Over the snow-cold fields forlorn,
’Tis as though Italy’s heaven smiled
In the face of some bleak Norwegian wild;
And the heart in me sings—I know not why—
’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky!
June in the sky! Ah, now I can seeThe souls of roses about to be,In gardens of heaven beckoning me,Roses red-lipped, and roses pale,Fanned by the tremulous ether gale!Some of them climbing a window-ledge,Some of them peering from wayside hedge,As yonder, adrift on the aery stream,Love drives his plumed and filleted team;The Angel of Summer aloft I see,And the souls of roses about to be!And the heart in me sings—the heart knows why—’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky.
June in the sky! Ah, now I can see
The souls of roses about to be,
In gardens of heaven beckoning me,
Roses red-lipped, and roses pale,
Fanned by the tremulous ether gale!
Some of them climbing a window-ledge,
Some of them peering from wayside hedge,
As yonder, adrift on the aery stream,
Love drives his plumed and filleted team;
The Angel of Summer aloft I see,
And the souls of roses about to be!
And the heart in me sings—the heart knows why—
’Tis winter on earth, but June in the sky.
O mother, tuck the children in,And draw the curtains round their heads;And mother, when the storms begin,Let storms forbear those cradle beds.And if the sleepers wake too soon,Say, “Children, ’tis too early yet!”And hush them with a sleepy tune,And closer draw the coverlet.O Mother Earth, be good to allThe little sleepers in thy care;And when ’tis time to wake them, callA beam of sun, a breath of air!
O mother, tuck the children in,And draw the curtains round their heads;And mother, when the storms begin,Let storms forbear those cradle beds.
O mother, tuck the children in,
And draw the curtains round their heads;
And mother, when the storms begin,
Let storms forbear those cradle beds.
And if the sleepers wake too soon,Say, “Children, ’tis too early yet!”And hush them with a sleepy tune,And closer draw the coverlet.
And if the sleepers wake too soon,
Say, “Children, ’tis too early yet!”
And hush them with a sleepy tune,
And closer draw the coverlet.
O Mother Earth, be good to allThe little sleepers in thy care;And when ’tis time to wake them, callA beam of sun, a breath of air!
O Mother Earth, be good to all
The little sleepers in thy care;
And when ’tis time to wake them, call
A beam of sun, a breath of air!
Said the robin to his mateIn the dripping orchard tree:“Our dear nest will have to waitTill the blue sky we can see.Birds can neither work nor play,For the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”Said the violet to the leaf:“I can scarcely ope my eye;So, for fear I’ll come to grief,Close along the earth I lie.All we flowers for sunshine pray,But the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”And the children, far and wide,They, too, wished away the rain;All their sports were spoiled outsideBy the “black glove” at the pane.Very dull indoors to stayWhile “the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”Up and down the murmurs run,Shared by child and bird and flower.Suddenly the golden sunDazzled through a clearing shower.Then they all forgot to sayThat “the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”
Said the robin to his mateIn the dripping orchard tree:“Our dear nest will have to waitTill the blue sky we can see.Birds can neither work nor play,For the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”
Said the robin to his mate
In the dripping orchard tree:
“Our dear nest will have to wait
Till the blue sky we can see.
Birds can neither work nor play,
For the rain rains every day,
And the rain rains all the day!”
Said the violet to the leaf:“I can scarcely ope my eye;So, for fear I’ll come to grief,Close along the earth I lie.All we flowers for sunshine pray,But the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”
Said the violet to the leaf:
“I can scarcely ope my eye;
So, for fear I’ll come to grief,
Close along the earth I lie.
All we flowers for sunshine pray,
But the rain rains every day,
And the rain rains all the day!”
And the children, far and wide,They, too, wished away the rain;All their sports were spoiled outsideBy the “black glove” at the pane.
And the children, far and wide,
They, too, wished away the rain;
All their sports were spoiled outside
By the “black glove” at the pane.
Very dull indoors to stayWhile “the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”
Very dull indoors to stay
While “the rain rains every day,
And the rain rains all the day!”
Up and down the murmurs run,Shared by child and bird and flower.Suddenly the golden sunDazzled through a clearing shower.Then they all forgot to sayThat “the rain rains every day,And the rain rains all the day!”
Up and down the murmurs run,
Shared by child and bird and flower.
Suddenly the golden sun
Dazzled through a clearing shower.
Then they all forgot to say
That “the rain rains every day,
And the rain rains all the day!”
When the Little Girl said Good by,At the turn of the road, on the hill,Was there a tear in her eye?And why did she keep so still?When the Little Girl said Good by,She never looked back at all!Was there a tear in her eye?I thought I could hear it fall!And then were the flowers more sweet,And the grass breathed a long, low sigh—I know—for I heard my heart beat—Therewasa tear in her eye!
When the Little Girl said Good by,At the turn of the road, on the hill,Was there a tear in her eye?And why did she keep so still?
When the Little Girl said Good by,
At the turn of the road, on the hill,
Was there a tear in her eye?
And why did she keep so still?
When the Little Girl said Good by,She never looked back at all!Was there a tear in her eye?I thought I could hear it fall!
When the Little Girl said Good by,
She never looked back at all!
Was there a tear in her eye?
I thought I could hear it fall!
And then were the flowers more sweet,And the grass breathed a long, low sigh—I know—for I heard my heart beat—Therewasa tear in her eye!
And then were the flowers more sweet,
And the grass breathed a long, low sigh—
I know—for I heard my heart beat—
Therewasa tear in her eye!