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Helen of Troy and Other Poems Part 10

Helen of Troy and Other Poems - LightNovelsOnl.com

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He woos me with an easy grace That proves him only half sincere; A light smile flickers on his face.

To him love-making is an art, And as a flutist plays a flute, So does he play upon his heart

A music varied to his whim.

He has no use for love of mine, He would not have me answer him.

To hide my eyes within the night I watch the changeful lighthouse gleam Alternately with red and white.

My laughter smites upon my ears, So one who cries and wakes from sleep Knows not it is himself he hears.

What if my voice should let him know The mocking words were all a sham, And lips that laugh could tremble so?

What if I lost the power to lie, And he should only hear his name In one low, broken cry?

On the Death of Swinburne

He trod the earth but yesterday, And now he treads the stars.

He left us in the April time He praised so often in his rhyme, He left the singing and the lyre and went his way.

He drew new music from our tongue, A music subtly wrought, And moulded words to his desire, As wind doth mould a wave of fire; From strangely fas.h.i.+oned harps slow golden tones he wrung.

I think the singing understands That he who sang is still, And Iseult cries that he is dead,-- Does not Dolores bow her head And Fragoletta weep and wring her little hands?

New singing now the singer hears To lyre and lute and harp; Catullus waits to welcome him, And thro' the twilight sweet and dim, Sappho's forgotten songs are falling on his ears.

Triolets

I

Love looked back as he took his flight, And lo, his eyes were filled with tears.

Was it for love of lost delight Love looked back as he took his flight?

Only I know while day grew night, Turning still to the vanished years, Love looked back as he took his flight, And lo, his eyes were filled with tears.

II (Written in a copy of "La Vita Nuova". For M. C. S.)

If you were Lady Beatrice And I the Florentine, I'd never waste my time like this-- If you were Lady Beatrice I'd woo and then demand a kiss, Nor weep like Dante here, I ween, If you were Lady Beatrice And I the Florentine.

III (Written in a copy of "The Poems of Sappho".)

Beyond the dim Hesperides, The girl who sang them long ago Could never dream that over seas, Beyond the dim Hesperides, The wind would blow such songs as these-- I wonder now if she can know, Beyond the dim Hesperides, The girl who sang them long ago?

IV

Dead leaves upon the stream And dead leaves on the air-- All of my lost hopes seem Dead leaves upon the stream; I watch them in a dream, Going I know not where, Dead leaves upon the stream And dead leaves on the air.

Vox Corporis

The beast to the beast is calling, And the soul bends down to wait; Like the stealthy lord of the jungle, The white man calls his mate.

The beast to the beast is calling, They rush through the twilight sweet, But the soul is a wary hunter, He will not let them meet.

A Ballad of Two Knights

Two knights rode forth at early dawn A-seeking maids to wed, Said one, "My lady must be fair, With gold hair on her head."

Then spake the other knight-at-arms: "I care not for her face, But she I love must be a dove For purity and grace."

And each knight blew upon his horn And went his separate way, And each knight found a lady-love Before the fall of day.

But she was brown who should have had The s.h.i.+ning yellow hair-- I ween the knights forgot their words Or else they ceased to care.

For he who wanted purity Brought home a wanton wild, And when each saw the other knight I ween that each knight smiled.

Christmas Carol

The kings they came from out the south, All dressed in ermine fine, They bore Him gold and chrysoprase, And gifts of precious wine.

The shepherds came from out the north, Their coats were brown and old, They brought Him little new-born lambs-- They had not any gold.

The wise-men came from out the east, And they were wrapped in white; The star that led them all the way Did glorify the night.

The angels came from heaven high, And they were clad with wings; And lo, they brought a joyful song The host of heaven sings.

The kings they knocked upon the door, The wise-men entered in, The shepherds followed after them To hear the song begin.

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