Poems by Adam Lindsay Gordon Part 9

Yet some must swim when others sink, And some must sink when others swim; Make merry, comrades, eat and drink, The lights are growing dim.

I miss the face of one I've loved (The sunlight settles on the sea)-- Long since to distant climes he roved, He had his faults, and so have we; His name was mentioned here this day, And it was coupled with a sneer; I heard, nor had I aught to say, Though once I held his memory dear.

Who cares, 'mid wines and fruits and flowers, Though death or danger compa.s.s him; He had his faults, and we have ours, The lights are growing dim.

I miss the form of one I know (The sunlight wanes upon the sea)-- 'Tis not so very long ago, We drank his health with three-times-three, And we were gay when he was here; And he is gone, and we are gay.

Where has he gone? or far or near?

Good sooth, 'twere somewhat hard to say.

You glance aside, you doubtless think My homily a foolish whim, 'Twill soon be ended, eat and drink, The lights are growing dim.

The fruit is ripe, the wine is red (The sunlight fades upon the sea); To us the absent are the dead, The dead to us must absent be.

We, too, the absent ranks must join; And friends will censure and forget: There's metal base in every coin; Men vanish, leaving traces yet Of evil and of good behind, Since false notes taint the skylark's hymn, And dross still lurks in gold refined-- The lights are growing dim.

We eat and drink or e'er we die (The sunlight flushes on the sea).

Three hundred soldiers feasted high An hour before Thermopylae; Leonidas pour'd out the wine, And shouted ere he drain'd the cup, "Ho! comrades, let us gaily dine-- This night with Pluto we shall sup"; And if they leant upon a reed, And if their reed was slight and slim, There's something good in Spartan creed-- The lights are growing dim.

Make merry, comrades, eat and drink (The sunlight flashes on the sea); My spirit is rejoiced to think That even as they were so are we; For they, like us, were mortals vain, The slaves to earthly pa.s.sions wild, Who slept with heaps of Persians slain For winding-sheets around them piled.

The dead man's deeds are living still-- My Festive speech is somewhat grim-- Their good obliterates their ill-- The lights are growing dim.

We eat and drink, we come and go (The sunlight dies upon the open sea).

I speak in riddles. Is it so?

My riddles need not mar your glee; For I will neither bid you share My thoughts, nor will I bid you shun, Though I should see in yonder chair Th' Egyptian's m.u.f.fled skeleton.

One toast with me your gla.s.ses fill, Aye, fill them level with the brim, De mortuis, nisi bonum, nil!

The lights are growing dim.

Delilah

[From a Picture]

The sun has gone down, spreading wide on The sky-line one ray of red fire; Prepare the soft cus.h.i.+ons of Sidon, Make ready the rich loom of Tyre.

The day, with its toil and its sorrow, Its shade, and its suns.h.i.+ne, at length Has ended; dost fear for the morrow, Strong man, in the pride of thy strength?

Like fire-flies, heavenward clinging, They multiply, star upon star; And the breeze a low murmur is bringing From the tents of my people afar.

Nay, frown not, I am but a Pagan, Yet little for these things I care; 'Tis the hymn to our deity Dagon That comes with the pleasant night air.

It shall not disturb thee, nor can it; See, closed are the curtains, the lights Gleam down on the cloven pomegranate, Whose thirst-slaking nectar invites; The red wine of Hebron glows brightly In yon goblet--the draught of a king; And through the silk awning steals lightly The sweet song my handmaidens sing.

Dost think that thy G.o.d, in His anger, Will trifle with nature's great laws, And slacken those sinews in languor That battled so well in His cause?

Will He take back that strength He has given, Because to the pleasures of youth Thou yieldest? Nay, G.o.dlike, in heaven, He laughs at such follies, forsooth.

Oh! were I, for good or for evil, As great and as gifted as thou, Neither G.o.d should restrain me, nor devil, To none like a slave would I bow.

If fate must indeed overtake thee, And feebleness come to thy clay, Pause not till thy strength shall forsake thee, Enjoy it the more in thy day.

Oh, fork'd-tongue of adder, by her pent In smooth lips!--oh, Sybarite blind!

Oh, woman allied to the serpent!

Oh, beauty with venom combined!

Oh, might overcoming the mighty!

Oh, glory departing! oh, shame!

Oh, altar of false Aphrodite, What strength is consumed in thy flame!

Strong chest, where her drapery rustles, Strong limbs by her black tresses hid!

Not alone by the might of your muscles Yon lion was rent like a kid!

The valour from virtue that sunders, Is 'reft of its n.o.bler part; And Lancelot's arm may work wonders, But braver is Galahad's heart.

Sleep sound on that breast fair and ample; Dull brain, and dim eyes, and deaf ears, Feel not the cold touch on your temple, Heed not the faint clash of the shears.

It comes!--with the gleam of the lamps on The curtains--that voice--does it jar On thy soul in the night-watch? Ho! Samson, Upon thee the Philistines are.

From Lightning and Tempest

The spring-wind pa.s.s'd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves, And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride; The spring-wind pa.s.s'd through the town, through the housetops, cas.e.m.e.nts, and eaves, And whisper'd low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied, Singing--"Let us rejoice in the light Of our glory, and beauty, and might; Let us follow our own devices, and foster our own desires.

As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our cedars fair in our sight, We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts and the fires."

The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town, And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the gale; And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their smile was a ghastly frown, And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate wail, Crying--"G.o.d! we have sinn'd, we have sinn'd, We are bruis'd, we are shorn, we are thinn'd, Our strength is turn'd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust, Our cedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strew'd by Thy wind, And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wrath is just."

Wormwood and Nightshade

The troubles of life are many, The pleasures of life are few; When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, I dreamt that the skies were blue-- When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, I dreamt that the earth was green; There is little colour, if any, 'Neath the sunlight now to be seen.

Then the rays of the sunset glinted Through the blackwoods' emerald bough On an emerald sward, rose-tinted, And spangled, and gemm'd;--and now The rays of the sunset redden With a sullen and lurid frown, From the skies that are dark and leaden, To earth that is dusk and brown.

To right and to left extended The uplands are blank and drear, And their neutral tints are blended With the dead leaves sombre and sere; The cold grey mist from the still side Of the lake creeps sluggish and sure, Bare and bleak is the hill-side, Barren and bleak the moor.

Bright hues and shapes intertwisted, Fair forms and rich colours;--now They have flown--if e'er they existed-- It matters not why or how.

It matters not where or when, dear, They have flown, the blue and the green, I thought on what might be then, dear, Now I think on what might have been.

What might have been!--words of folly; What might be!--speech for a fool; With mistletoe round me, and holly, Scarlet and green, at Yule.

With the elm in the place of the wattle, And in lieu of the gum, the oak, Years back I believed a little, And as I believed I spoke.

Have I done with those childish fancies?

They suited the days gone by, When I pulled the poppies and pansies, When I hunted the b.u.t.terfly, With one who has long been sleeping, A stranger to doubts and cares, And to sowing that ends in reaping Thistles, and thorns, and tares.

What might be!--the dreams were scatter'd, As chaff is toss'd by the wind, The faith has been rudely shattered That listen'd with credence blind; Things were to have been, and therefore They were, and they are to be, And will be;--we must prepare for The doom we are bound to dree.

Ah, me! we believe in evil, Where once we believed in good, The world, the flesh, and the devil Are easily understood; The world, the flesh, and the devil Their traces on earth are plain; Must they always riot and revel While footprints of man remain?