Georgian Poetry 1913-15 Part 16

Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not romp, Let's grimly kiss with bated breath; As quietly and solemnly As Life when it is kissing Death.

Now in the silence of the grave, My hand is squeezing that soft breast; While thou dost in such pa.s.sion lie, It mocks me with its look of rest.

But when the morning comes at last, And we must part, our pa.s.sions cold, You'll think of some new feather, scarf To buy with my small piece of gold; And I'll be dreaming of green lanes, Where little things with beating hearts Hold s.h.i.+ning eyes between the leaves, Till men with horses pa.s.s, and carts.

THE BIRD OF PARADISE

Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold, Takes any man to bed: "You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said; "You knew Nell Barnes--she's dead.

"Nell Barnes was bad on all you men, Unclean, a thief as well; Yet all my life I have not found A better friend than Nell.

"So I sat at her side at last, For hours, till she was dead; And yet she had no sense at all Of any word I said.

"For all her cry but came to this-- 'Not for the world! Take care: Don't touch that bird of paradise, Perched on the bed-post there!'

"I asked her would she like some grapes, Some damsons ripe and sweet; A custard made with new-laid eggs, Or tender fowl to eat.

"I promised I would follow her, To see her in her grave; And buy a wreath with borrowed pence, If nothing I could save.

"Yet still her cry but came to this-- 'Not for the world! Take care: Don't touch that bird of paradise, Perched on the bed-post there!'"

WALTER DE LA MARE

MUSIC

When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.

When music sounds, out of the water rise Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes, Rapt in strange dream burns each enchanted face, With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place.

When music sounds, all that I was I am Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came; And from Time's woods break into distant song The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.

WANDERERS

Wide are the meadows of night, And daisies are s.h.i.+ning there, Tossing their lovely dews, l.u.s.trous and fair; And through these sweet fields go, Wanderers amid the stars-- Venus, Mercury, Ura.n.u.s, Neptune, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars.

'Tired in their silver, they move, And circling, whisper and say, Fair are the blossoming meads of delight Through which we stray.

MELMILLO

Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo--flew off three, Leaving thirty in the tree; Called Melmillo--nine now gone, And the boughs held twenty-one; Called Melmillo--and eighteen Left but three to nod and preen; Called Melmillo--three--two--one-- Now of birds were feathers none.

Then stole slim Melmillo in To that wood all dusk and green, And with lean long palms outspread Softly a strange dance did tread; Not a note of music she Had for echoing company; All the birds were flown to rest In the hollow of her breast; In the wood--thorn, elder, willow-- Danced alone--lone danced Melmillo.

ALEXANDER

It was the Great Alexander, Capped with a golden helm, Sate in the ages, in his floating s.h.i.+p, In a dead calm.

Voices of sea-maids singing Wandered across the deep: The sailors labouring on their oars Rowed as in sleep.

All the high pomp of Asia, Charmed by that siren lay, Out of their weary and dreaming minds Faded away.

Like a bold boy sate their Captain, His glamour withered and gone, In the souls of his brooding manners, While the song pined on.

Time like a falling dew, Life like the scene of a dream Laid between slumber and slumber Only did seem ...

O Alexander, then, In all us mortals too, Wax not so overbold On the wave dark-blue!

Come the calm starry night, Who then will hear Aught save the singing Of the sea-maids clear?

THE MOCKING FAIRY

'Won't you look out of your window, Mrs Gill?'

Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; 'CAN'T you look out of your window, Mrs Gill?'

Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden; But the air was still, the cherry boughs were still, And the ivy-tod 'neath the empty sill, And never from her window looked out Mrs Gill On the Fairy shrilly mocking in the garden.

'What have they done with you, you poor Mrs Gill?'

Quoth the Fairy brightly glancing in the garden; 'Where have they hidden you, you poor old Mrs Gill?'

Quoth the Fairy dancing lightly in the garden; But night's faint veil now wrapped the hill, Stark 'neath the stars stood the dead-still Mill, And out of her cold cottage never answered Mrs Gill The Fairy mimbling mambling in the garden.

FULL MOON

One night as d.i.c.k lay half asleep, Into his drowsy eyes A great still light began to creep From out the silent skies.

It was the lovely moon's, for when He raised his dreamy head, Her surge of silver filled the pane And streamed across his bed.

So, for awhile, each gazed at each-- d.i.c.k and the solemn moon-- Till, climbing slowly on her way, She vanished, and was gone.