Later Poems Part 4

Within my stone-walled garden (I see her standing now, Uplifted in the twilight, With glory on her brow!)

I love to walk at evening And watch, when winds are low, The new moon in the tree-tops, Because she loved it so!

And there entranced I listen, While flowers and winds confer, And all their conversation Is redolent of her.

I love the trees that guard it, Upstanding and serene, So n.o.ble, so undaunted, Because that was her mien.

I love the brook that bounds it, Because its silver voice Is like her bubbling laughter That made the world rejoice.

I love the golden jonquils, Because she used to say, If soul could choose a color It would be clothed as they.

I love the blue-gray iris, Because her eyes were blue, Sea-deep and heaven-tender In meaning and in hue.

I love the small wild roses, Because she used to stand Adoringly above them And bless them with her hand.

These were her boon companions.

But more than all the rest I love the April lilac, Because she loved it best.

Soul of undying rapture!

How love's enchantment clings, With sorcery and fragrance, About familiar things!

In Gold Lacquer

Gold are the great trees overhead, And gold the leaf-strewn gra.s.s, As though a cloth of gold were spread To let a seraph pa.s.s.

And where the pageant should go by, Meadow and wood and stream, The world is all of lacquered gold, Expectant as a dream.

Against the sunset's burning gold, Etched in dark monotone Behind its alley of grey trees And gateposts of grey stone, Stands the Old Manse, about whose eaves An air of mystery clings, Abandoned to the lonely peace Of bygone ghostly things.

In molten gold the river winds With languid sweep and turn, Beside the red-gold wooded hill Yellowed with ash and fern.

The streets are tiled with gold-green shade And arched with fretted gold, Ecstatic aisles that richly thread This minster grim and old.

The air is flecked with filtered gold,-- The s.h.i.+mmer of romance Whose ageless glamour still must hold The world as in a trance, Pouring o'er every time and place Light of an amber sea, The spell of all the gladsome things That have been or shall be.

Aprilian

When April came with suns.h.i.+ne And showers and lilac bloom, My heart with sudden gladness Was like a fragrant room.

Her eyes were heaven's own azure, As deep as G.o.d's own truth.

Her soul was made of rapture And mystery and youth.

She knew the sorry burden Of all the ancient years, Yet could not dwell with sadness And memory and tears.

With her there was no shadow Of failure nor despair, But only loving joyance.

O Heart, how glad we were!

Garden Shadows

When the dawn winds whisper To the standing corn, And the rose of morning From the dark is born, All my shadowy garden Seems to grow aware Of a fragrant presence, Half expected there.

In the golden s.h.i.+mmer Of the burning noon, When the birds are silent And the poppies swoon, Once more I behold her Smile and turn her face, With its infinite regard, Its immortal grace.

When the twilight silvers Every nodding flower, And the new moon hallows The first evening hour, Is it not her footfall Down the garden walks, Where the drowsy blossoms Slumber on their stalks?

In the starry quiet, When the soul is free, And a vernal message Stirs the lilac tree, Surely I have felt her Pa.s.s and brush my cheek, With the eloquence of love That does not need to speak!

In The Day of Battle

In the day of battle, In the night of dread, Let one hymn be lifted, Let one prayer be said.

Not for pride of conquest, Not for vengeance wrought, Nor for peace and safety With dishonour bought!

Praise for faith in freedom, Our fighting fathers' stay, Born of dreams and daring, Bred above dismay.

Prayer for cloudless vision, And the valiant hand, That the right may triumph To the last demand.

Trees

In the Garden of Eden, planted by G.o.d, There were goodly trees in the springing sod,--

Trees of beauty and height and grace, To stand in splendor before His face.

Apple and hickory, ash and pear, Oak and beech and the tulip rare,

The trembling aspen, the n.o.ble pine, The sweeping elm by the river line;

Trees for the birds to build and sing, And the lilac tree for a joy in spring;

Trees to turn at the frosty call And carpet the ground for their Lord's footfall;

Trees for fruitage and fire and shade, Trees for the cunning builder's trade;

Wood for the bow, the spear, and the flail, The keel and the mast of the daring sail;

He made them of every grain and girth For the use of man in the Garden of Earth.