I dreamed that one had died in a strange placeNear no accustomed hand;And they had nailed the boards above her face,The peasants of that land,And, wondering, planted by her solitudeA cypress and a yew:I came, and wrote upon a cross of wood,Man had no more to do:She was more beautiful than thy first love,This lady by the trees:And gazed upon the mournful stars above,And heard the mournful breeze.
W. B. Yeats.
144. A DREAM Of A BLESSED SPIRIT
All the heavy days are over;Leave the body's coloured prideUnderneath the grass and clover,With the feet laid side by side.
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One with her are mirth and duty;Bear the gold embroidered dress,For she needs not her sad beauty,To the scented oaken press.
Hers the kiss of Mother Mary,The long hair is on her face;Still she goes with footsteps wary,Full of earth's old timid grace:
With white feet of angels sevenHer white feet go glimmering;And above the deep of heaven,Flame on flame and wing on wing.
W. B. Yeats.
What shall I your true-love tell,Earth-forsaking maid?What shall I your true-love tell,When life's spectre's laid?
"Tell him that, our side the grave,Maid may not conceiveLife should be so sad to have,That's so sad to leave!"
What shall I your true-love tell,When I come to him?What shall I your true-love tell—Eyes growing dim!
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"Tell him this, when you shall partFrom a maiden pined;That I see him with my heart,Now my eyes are blind."
What shall I your true-love tell?Speaking-while is scant.What shall I your true-love tell,Death's white postulant?
"Tell him—love, with speech at strife,For last utterance saith:I, who loved with all my life,Love with all my death."
Francis Thompson.
One that is ever kind said yesterday:"Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey,And little shadows come about her eyes;Time can but make it easier to be wise,Though now it's hard, till trouble is at an end;And so be patient, be wise and patient, friend."But, heart, there is no comfort, not a grain;Time can but make her beauty over again,Because of that great nobleness of hers;The fire that stirs about her, when she stirsBurns but more clearly. O she had not these ways,When all the wild summer was in her gaze.O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head,You'd know the folly of being comforted.
W. B. Yeats.
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To W. M.
Home, home from the horizon far and clear,Hither the soft wings sweep;Flocks of the memories of the day draw nearThe dovecote doors of sleep.
Oh, which are they that come through sweetest lightOf all these homing birds?Which with the straightest and the swiftest flight?Your words to me, your words!
Alice Meynell
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A kiss, a word of thanks, away (H. C. Beeching). . . . . . . 142A naked house, a naked moor (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . 65A ship, an isle, a sickle moon (J. E. Flecker) . . . . . . . 76All that he came to give (L. Johnson) . . . . . . . . . . . 136All the heavy days are over (W. B. Yeats) . . . . . . . . . 167All winter through I bow my head (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . 82Along the graceless grass of town (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . 90As I went down to Dymchurch wall (J. Davidson) . . . . . . . 45Assemble, all ye maidens, at the door (B. Bridges) . . . . . 164Athwart the sky a lowly sigh (J. Davidson) . . . . . . . . . 96Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! (B. Bridges) . . 155
Below the down the stranded town (J. Davidson) . . . . . . . 47Between two russet tufts of summer grass (E. Gosse) . . . . 102Beyond my window in the night (J. Drinkwater) . . . . . . . 49Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying(R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36Brief, on a flying night (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . . . . . 78But to have lain upon the grass (A. Symons) . . . . . . . . 101Buy my English posies! (R. Kipling) . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Cambridge town is a beleaguered city (R. Macaulay) . . . . . 54Can I forget the sweet days that have been (W. H. Davies) . 60Come, no more of grief and dying! (M. L. Woods) . . . . . . 108Country roads are yellow and brown (M. E. Coleridge) . . . . 95Daylight was down, and up the cool (L. Housman) . . . . . . 99Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet(W. B. Yeats) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile away(H. Newbolt) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Farewell to one now silenced quite (A. Meynell) . . . . . . 163Fear? Yes . . . I heard you saying (H. Trench) . . . . . . 16
Give to me the life I love (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . 83God gave all men all earth to love (R. Kipling) . . . . . . 39God, if this were enough (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . . 114God who created me (H. C. Beeching) . . . . . . . . . . . . 133Good-bye; no tears nor cries (J. W. Mackail) . . . . . . . . 139Grow old and die, rich Day (A. S. Cripps) . . . . . . . . . 32
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths (W. B. Yeats) . . . . 156He leapt to arms unbidden (H. Newbolt) . . . . . . . . . . . 22He rises and begins to round (G. Meredith) . . . . . . . . . 119He walked in glory on the hills (W. Canton) . . . . . . . . 34Here lies a most beautiful lady (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . 167His wage of rest at nightfall still (J. Drinkwater) . . . . 24Home, home from the horizon far and clear (A. Meynell) . . . 170How solitary gleams the lamplit street (L. Binyon) . . . . . 93
I came to Oxford in the light (G. Gould) . . . . . . . . . . 51I do not need the skies (F. Thompson) . . . . . . . . . . . 125I dreamed that one had died in a strange place (W. B. Yeats) 167I gathered with a careless hand (G. Gould) . . . . . . . . . 6I go through the fields of blue water (A. S. Cripps) . . . . 48I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills(J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
I know you; solitary griefs (L. Johnson) . . . . . . . . . . 113I laid me down upon the shore (F. Cornford) . . . . . . . . 2I love all beauteous things (R. Bridges) . . . . . . . . . . 125I never see the newsboys run (S. Leslie) . . . . . . . . . . 100I never shall love the snow again (R. Bridges) . . . . . . . 148I never went to Mamble (J. Drinkwater) . . . . . . . . . . . 49I will arise and go now, and go to Inisfree (W. B. Yeats) . 61I will make you brooches and toys for your delight(R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85I will not let thee go (R. Bridges) . . . . . . . . . . . . 161I will not try the reach again (H. Belloc) . . . . . . . . . 54If I have faltered more or less (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . 129If I should die, think only this of me (R. Brooke) . . . . . 25In misty blue the lark is heard (L. Binyon) . . . . . . . . 152In the highlands, in the country places (R. L. Stevenson) . 34In the time of wild roses (L. Binyon) . . . . . . . . . . . 73It is good to be out on the road, and going one knows notwhere (J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84It was early last September, nigh to Framlin'am-on-Sea(P. R. Chalmers) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Just now the lilac is in bloom (R. Brooke) . . . . . . . . . 55
Know you her secret none can utter? (A. Quiller-Couch) . . 52
Laugh and be merry: remember, better the world with asong (J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116Let me go forth and share (W. Watson) . . . . . . . . . . . 80Lonely, save for a few faint stars, the sky (L. Binyon) . . 91
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Many a flower have I seen blossom (M. S. Coleridge) . . . . 135
Not soon shall I forget—a sheet (K. Tynan) . . . . . . . . 75Not within a granite pass (E. Gosse) . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
O, a gallant set were they (M. E. Coleridge) . . . . . . . . 8O dreamy, gloomy, friendly Trees (H. Trench) . . . . . . . . 111O happy soul, forget thy self (T. Sturge Moore) . . . . . . 106O heavenly colour, London town (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . . 97O Idleness, too fond of me (T. Sturge Moore) . . . . . . . . 111O, men from the fields! (P. Colum) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149Oh, not more subtly silence strays (A. Meynell) . . . . . . 160O pastoral heart of England! like a psalm (A. Quiller-Couch) 9Oh shall I never never be home again! (J. E. Flecker) . . . 30O summer sun, O moving trees! (L. Binyon) . . . . . . . . . 96O why do you walk through tha fields in gloves (F. Cornford) 85O what know they of harbours (E. Radford) . . . . . . . . . 50O world invisible, we view thee (F. Thompson,) . . . . . . . 130Of Courtesy it is much less (H. Belloc) . . . . . . . . . . 131On alien ground, breathing an alien air (M. E. Coleridge) . 33On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose (G. Meredith) . . . 128Once . . . once upon a time (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . . . 135One that is ever kind said yesterday (W. B. Yeats) . . . . . 169Out of my door I step into (K. Tynan) . . . . . . . . . . . 66Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn (W. B. Yeats) . . . . . . 123
Peace waits among the hills (A. Symons) . . . . . . . . . . 132Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee(R. Bridges) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes (G. Meredith) 86
Row till the land dip 'neath (T. Sturge Moore) . . . . . . . 75
Say what you will, there is not in the world (W. Blunt) . . 45Shall we but turn from braggart pride (L. Binyon) . . . . . 20She walks—the lady of my delight (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . 134Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow (G. Meredith) 158Sitting at times over a hearth that burns (H. Newbolt) . . . 15Slight as thou art, thou art enough to hide (A. Meynell) . . 128So, without overt breach, we fall apart (W. Watson) . . . . 142Softly along the road of evening (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . 77Sombre and rich the skies (L. Johnson) . . . . . . . . . . . 10Spring goeth all in white (R. Bridges) . . . . . . . . . . . 78
Tell the tune his feet beat (A. S. Cripps) . . . . . . . . . 32The dove did lend me wings. I fled away (W. Blunt) . . . . 79The fountain murmuring of sleep (A. Symons) . . . . . . . . 154The hill pines were sighing (R. Bridges) . . . . . . . . . . 68
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The Lady Poverty was fair (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . . . . . 131The moon is up: the stars are bright (A. Noyes) . . . . . . 14There is a hill beside the silver Thames (R. Bridges) . . . 70There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night (H. Newbolt) 115These hearts were woven of human joys and cares (R. Brooke) 24This is a sacred city built of marvellous earth(J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123This labouring, vast, Tellurian galleon (F. Thompson) . . . 149This was her table, these her trim outspread(J. B. B. Nichols) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9Through the sunny garden (M. E. Coleridge) . . . . . . . . . 37Time, you old gipsy man (R. Hodgson) . . . . . . . . . . . . 7'Tis but a week since down the glen (G. Gould) . . . . . . . 124To-day, all day, I rode upon the down (W. Blunt) . . . . . . 79To the forgotten dead (M. L. Woods) . . . . . . . . . . . . 12To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside(R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113Too soothe and mild your lowland airs (L. Abercrombie) . . . 36Troy Town is covered up with weeds (J. Masefield) . . . . . 3Trusty, dusky, vivid, true (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . 157Twilight it is, and the far woods are dim, and the rookscry and call (J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
Under the wide and starry sky (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . 90
Very old are the woods (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . . . . . . 1
What gods have met in battle to arouse (A. E.) . . . . . . . 27What heart could have thought you? (F. Thompson) . . . . . . 127What is this life, if, full of care (W. B. Davies) . . . . . 101What of vile dust? the preacher said (G. K. Chesterton) . . 154What shall I your true-love tell (F. Thompson) . . . . . . . 168When I am living in the Midlands (H. Belloc) . . . . . . . . 43When I did wake this morn from sleep (W. H. Davies) . . . . 67When June is come, then all the day (R. Bridges) . . . . . . 152When men were all asleep the snow came flying (R. Bridges) 91When skies are blue and days are bright (K. Tynan) . . . . . 69When you are old and gray and full of sleep (W. B. Yeats) 161When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains)(R. Macaulay) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23Where the thistle lifts a purple crown (F. Thompson) . . . . 143With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children(L. Binyon) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
Ye have robbed, said he, ye have slaughtered and made anend (H. Newbolt) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17Yonder in the heather there's a bed for sleeping (A. Smith) 35Youth now flees on feathered foot (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . 107