Harold Monro

When I returned at sunset,The serving-maid was singing softlyUnder the dark stairs, and in the houseTwilight had entered like a moon-ray.Time was so dead I could not understandThe meaning of midday or of midnight,But like falling waters, falling, hissing, falling,Silence seemed an everlasting sound.I sat in my room,And watched sunset,And saw starlight.I heard the tramp of homing men,And the last call of the last child;Then a lone bird twittered,And suddenly, beyond the housetops,I imagined dew in the country,In the hay, on the buttercups;The rising moon,The scent of early night,The songs, the echoes,Dogs barking,Day closing,Gradual slumber,Sweet rest.When all the lamps were lighted in the townI passed into the street ways and I watched,Wakeful, almost happy,And half the night I wandered in the street.

When I returned at sunset,

The serving-maid was singing softly

Under the dark stairs, and in the house

Twilight had entered like a moon-ray.

Time was so dead I could not understand

The meaning of midday or of midnight,

But like falling waters, falling, hissing, falling,

Silence seemed an everlasting sound.

I sat in my room,And watched sunset,And saw starlight.I heard the tramp of homing men,And the last call of the last child;Then a lone bird twittered,And suddenly, beyond the housetops,I imagined dew in the country,In the hay, on the buttercups;The rising moon,The scent of early night,The songs, the echoes,Dogs barking,Day closing,Gradual slumber,Sweet rest.

I sat in my room,

And watched sunset,

And saw starlight.

I heard the tramp of homing men,

And the last call of the last child;

Then a lone bird twittered,

And suddenly, beyond the housetops,

I imagined dew in the country,

In the hay, on the buttercups;

The rising moon,

The scent of early night,

The songs, the echoes,

Dogs barking,

Day closing,

Gradual slumber,

Sweet rest.

When all the lamps were lighted in the townI passed into the street ways and I watched,Wakeful, almost happy,And half the night I wandered in the street.

When all the lamps were lighted in the town

I passed into the street ways and I watched,

Wakeful, almost happy,

And half the night I wandered in the street.

Happy boy, happy boy,David the immortal-willed,Youth a thousand thousand timesSlain, but not once killed,Swaggering again todayIn the old contemptuous way;Leaning backward from your thighUp against the tinselled bar—Dust and ashes! is it you?Laughing, boasting, there you are!First we hardly recognized youIn your modern avatar.Soldier, rifle, brown khaki—Is your blood as happy so?Where’s your sling or painted shield,Helmet, pike or bow?Well, you’re going to the wars—That is all you need to know.Graybeards plotted. They were sad.Death was in their wrinkled eyes.At their tables—with their maps,Plans and calculations—wiseThey all seemed; for well they knewHow ungrudgingly Youth dies.At their green official baizeThey debated all the nightPlans for your adventurous daysWhich you followed with delight,Youth in all your wanderings,David of a thousand slings.

Happy boy, happy boy,David the immortal-willed,Youth a thousand thousand timesSlain, but not once killed,Swaggering again todayIn the old contemptuous way;

Happy boy, happy boy,

David the immortal-willed,

Youth a thousand thousand times

Slain, but not once killed,

Swaggering again today

In the old contemptuous way;

Leaning backward from your thighUp against the tinselled bar—Dust and ashes! is it you?Laughing, boasting, there you are!First we hardly recognized youIn your modern avatar.

Leaning backward from your thigh

Up against the tinselled bar—

Dust and ashes! is it you?

Laughing, boasting, there you are!

First we hardly recognized you

In your modern avatar.

Soldier, rifle, brown khaki—Is your blood as happy so?Where’s your sling or painted shield,Helmet, pike or bow?Well, you’re going to the wars—That is all you need to know.

Soldier, rifle, brown khaki—

Is your blood as happy so?

Where’s your sling or painted shield,

Helmet, pike or bow?

Well, you’re going to the wars—

That is all you need to know.

Graybeards plotted. They were sad.Death was in their wrinkled eyes.At their tables—with their maps,Plans and calculations—wiseThey all seemed; for well they knewHow ungrudgingly Youth dies.

Graybeards plotted. They were sad.

Death was in their wrinkled eyes.

At their tables—with their maps,

Plans and calculations—wise

They all seemed; for well they knew

How ungrudgingly Youth dies.

At their green official baizeThey debated all the nightPlans for your adventurous daysWhich you followed with delight,Youth in all your wanderings,David of a thousand slings.

At their green official baize

They debated all the night

Plans for your adventurous days

Which you followed with delight,

Youth in all your wanderings,

David of a thousand slings.

A Fragment

That strange companion came on shuffling feet,Passed me, then turned, and touched my arm.He said (and he was melancholy,And both of us looked fretfully,And slowly we advanced together),He said: “I bring you your inheritance.”I watched his eyes; they were dim.I doubted him, watched him, doubted him ...But, in a ceremonious way,He said: “You are too grey:Come, you must be merry for a day.”And I, because my heart was dumb,Because the life in me was numb,Cried: “I will come. Iwillcome.”So, without another word,We two jaunted on the street.I had heard, often heard,The shuffling of those feet of his,The shuffle of his feet.And he muttered in my earSuch a wheezy jestAs a man may often hear—Not the worst, not the bestThat a man may hear.Then he murmured in my faceSomething that was true.He said: “I have known this long, long while,All there is to know of you.”And the light of the lamp cut a strange smileOn his face, and we muttered along the street,Good enough friends, on the usual beat.We lived together long, long.We were always alone, he and I.We never smiled with each other;We were like brother and brother,Dimly accustomed.Can a man knowWhy he must live, or where he should go?He brought me that joke or two,And we roared with laughter, for want of a smile,As every man in the world might do.He who lies all night in bedIs a fool, and midnight will crush his head.When he threw a glass of wine in my faceOne night, I hit him, and we parted;But in a short spaceWe came back to each other melancholy-hearted,Told our pain,Swore we would not part again.One night we turned a table overThe body of some slain fool to cover,And all the company clapped their hands;So we spat in their faces,And travelled away to other lands.I wish for every man he findA strange companion soCompletely to his mindWith whom he everywhere may go.

That strange companion came on shuffling feet,Passed me, then turned, and touched my arm.

That strange companion came on shuffling feet,

Passed me, then turned, and touched my arm.

He said (and he was melancholy,And both of us looked fretfully,And slowly we advanced together),He said: “I bring you your inheritance.”

He said (and he was melancholy,

And both of us looked fretfully,

And slowly we advanced together),

He said: “I bring you your inheritance.”

I watched his eyes; they were dim.I doubted him, watched him, doubted him ...But, in a ceremonious way,He said: “You are too grey:Come, you must be merry for a day.”

I watched his eyes; they were dim.

I doubted him, watched him, doubted him ...

But, in a ceremonious way,

He said: “You are too grey:

Come, you must be merry for a day.”

And I, because my heart was dumb,Because the life in me was numb,Cried: “I will come. Iwillcome.”

And I, because my heart was dumb,

Because the life in me was numb,

Cried: “I will come. Iwillcome.”

So, without another word,We two jaunted on the street.I had heard, often heard,The shuffling of those feet of his,The shuffle of his feet.

So, without another word,

We two jaunted on the street.

I had heard, often heard,

The shuffling of those feet of his,

The shuffle of his feet.

And he muttered in my earSuch a wheezy jestAs a man may often hear—Not the worst, not the bestThat a man may hear.

And he muttered in my ear

Such a wheezy jest

As a man may often hear—

Not the worst, not the best

That a man may hear.

Then he murmured in my faceSomething that was true.He said: “I have known this long, long while,All there is to know of you.”And the light of the lamp cut a strange smileOn his face, and we muttered along the street,Good enough friends, on the usual beat.

Then he murmured in my face

Something that was true.

He said: “I have known this long, long while,

All there is to know of you.”

And the light of the lamp cut a strange smile

On his face, and we muttered along the street,

Good enough friends, on the usual beat.

We lived together long, long.We were always alone, he and I.We never smiled with each other;We were like brother and brother,Dimly accustomed.Can a man knowWhy he must live, or where he should go?

We lived together long, long.

We were always alone, he and I.

We never smiled with each other;

We were like brother and brother,

Dimly accustomed.

Can a man know

Why he must live, or where he should go?

He brought me that joke or two,And we roared with laughter, for want of a smile,As every man in the world might do.He who lies all night in bedIs a fool, and midnight will crush his head.

He brought me that joke or two,

And we roared with laughter, for want of a smile,

As every man in the world might do.

He who lies all night in bed

Is a fool, and midnight will crush his head.

When he threw a glass of wine in my faceOne night, I hit him, and we parted;But in a short spaceWe came back to each other melancholy-hearted,Told our pain,Swore we would not part again.

When he threw a glass of wine in my face

One night, I hit him, and we parted;

But in a short space

We came back to each other melancholy-hearted,

Told our pain,

Swore we would not part again.

One night we turned a table overThe body of some slain fool to cover,And all the company clapped their hands;So we spat in their faces,And travelled away to other lands.

One night we turned a table over

The body of some slain fool to cover,

And all the company clapped their hands;

So we spat in their faces,

And travelled away to other lands.

I wish for every man he findA strange companion soCompletely to his mindWith whom he everywhere may go.

I wish for every man he find

A strange companion so

Completely to his mind

With whom he everywhere may go.

Back to Index Next