New Poems by Francis Thompson - LightNovelsOnl.com
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The rose hath her kiss.
A MAY BURDEN.
Through meadow-ways as I did tread, The corn grew in great l.u.s.tihead, And hey! the beeches burgeon-ed.
By G.o.dd-es fay, by G.o.dd-es fay!
It is the month, the jolly month, It is the jolly month of May.
G.o.d ripe the wines and corn, I say And wenches for the marriage-day, And boys to teach love's comely play.
By G.o.dd-es fay, by G.o.dd-es fay!
It is the month, the jolly month, It is the jolly month of May.
As I went down by lane and lea, The daisies reddened so, pardie!
'Blushets!' I said, 'I well do see, By G.o.dd-es fay, by G.o.dd-es fay!
The thing ye think of in this month, Heigho! this jolly month of May.'
As down I went by rye and oats, The blossoms smelt of kisses; throats Of birds turned kisses into notes; By G.o.dd-es fay, by G.o.dd-es fay!
The kiss it is a growing flower, I trow, this jolly month of May!
G.o.d send a mouth to every kiss, Seeing the blossom of this bliss By gathering doth grow, certes!
By G.o.dd-es fay, by G.o.dd-es fay!
Thy brow-garland pushed all aslant Tells--but I tell not, wanton May!
NOTE. The first two stanzas are from a French original--I have forgotten what.
A DEAD ASTRONOMER.
(Father Perry, S.J.)
Starry amorist, starward gone, Thou art--what thou didst gaze upon!
Pa.s.sed through thy golden garden's bars, Thou seest the Gardener of the Stars.
She, about whose moon-ed brows Seven stars make seven glows, Seven lights for seven woes; She, like thine own Galaxy, All l.u.s.tres in one purity:- What said'st thou, Astronomer, When thou did'st discover HER?
When thy hand its tube let fall, Thou found'st the fairest Star of all!
'CHOSE VUE'.
A metrical caprice.
Up she rose, fair daughter--well she was graced As a cloud her going, stept from her chair, As a summer-soft cloud, in her going paced, Down dropped her riband-band, and all her waving hair Shook like loosened music cadent to her waist;-- Lapsing like music, wavery as water, Slid to her waist.
'WHERETO ART THOU COME?'
'Friend, whereto art thou come?' Thus Verity; Of each that to the world's sad Olivet Comes with no mult.i.tude, but alone by night, Lit with the one torch of his lifted soul, Seeking her that he may lay hands on her; Thus: and waits answer from the mouth of deed.
Truth is a maid, whom men woo diversely; This, as a spouse; that, as a light-o'-love, To know, and having known, to make his brag.
But woe to him that takes the immortal kiss, And not estates her in his housing life, Mother of all his seed! So he betrays, Not Truth, the unbetrayable, but himself: And with his kiss's rated traitor-craft, The Haceldama of a plot of days He buys, to consummate his Judasry Therein with Judas' guerdon of despair.
HEAVEN AND h.e.l.l.
'Tis said there were no thought of h.e.l.l, Save h.e.l.l were taught; that there should be A Heaven for all's self-credible.
Not so the thing appears to me.
'Tis Heaven that lies beyond our sights, And h.e.l.l too possible that proves; For all can feel the G.o.d that smites, But ah, how few the G.o.d that loves!
TO A CHILD.
Whenas my life shall time with funeral tread The heavy death-drum of the beaten hours, Following, sole mourner, mine own manhood dead, Poor forgot corse, where not a maid strows flowers; When I you love am no more I you love, But go with unsubservient feet, behold Your dear face through changed eyes, all grim change prove;-- A new man, mock-ed with misname of old; When shamed Love keep his ruined lodging, elf!
When, ceremented in mouldering memory, Myself is hears-ed underneath myself, And I am but the monument of me:- O to that tomb be tender then, which bears Only the name of him it sepulchres!
HERMES.
Soothsay. Behold, with rod twy-serpented, Hermes the prophet, twining in one power The woman with the man. Upon his head The cloudy cap, wherewith he hath in dower The cloud's own virtue--change and counterchange, To show in light, and to withdraw in pall, As mortal eyes best bear. His lineage strange From Zeus, Truth's sire, and maiden May--the all- Illusive Nature. His fledged feet declare That 'tis the nether self transdeified, And the thrice-furnaced pa.s.sions, which do bear The poet Olympusward. In him allied Both parents clasp; and from the womb of Nature Stern Truth takes flesh in shows of lovely feature.
HOUSE OF BONDAGE.
I
When I perceive Love's heavenly reaping still Regard perforce the clouds' vicissitude, That the fixed spirit loves not when it will, But craves its seasons of the flawful blood; When I perceive that the high poet doth Oft voiceless stray beneath the uninfluent stars, That even Urania of her kiss is loath, And Song's brave wings fret on their sensual bars; When I perceived the fullest-sail-ed sprite Lag at most need upon the leth-ed seas, The provident captains.h.i.+p oft voided quite, And lam-ed lie deep-draughted argosies; I scorn myself, that put for such strange toys The wit of man to purposes of boys.
II
The spirit's ark sealed with a little clay, Was old ere Memphis grew a memory; {2} The hand pontifical to break away That seal what shall surrender? Not the sea Which did englut great Egypt and his war, Nor all the desert-drown-ed sepulchres.
Love's feet are stained with clay and travel-sore, And dusty are Song's lucent wing and hairs.
O Love, that must do courtesy to decay, Eat hasty bread standing with loins up-girt, How shall this stead thy feet for their sore way?
Ah, Song, what brief embraces balm thy hurt!
Had Jacob's toil full guerdon, casting his Twice-seven heaped years to burn in Rachel's kiss?
