Poems by George Meredith Volume I Part 1

Poems by George Meredith.

Volume 1.

by George Meredith.

CHILLIANWALLAH

Chillanwallah, Chillanwallah!

Where our brothers fought and bled, O thy name is natural music And a dirge above the dead!

Though we have not been defeated, Though we can't be overcome, Still, whene'er thou art repeated, I would fain that grief were dumb.

Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!

'Tis a name so sad and strange, Like a breeze through midnight harpstrings Ringing many a mournful change; But the wildness and the sorrow Have a meaning of their own - Oh, whereof no glad to-morrow Can relieve the dismal tone!

Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!

'Tis a village dark and low, By the b.l.o.o.d.y Jhelum river Bridged by the foreboding foe; And across the wintry water He is ready to retreat, When the carnage and the slaughter Shall have paid for his defeat.

Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!

'Tis a wild and dreary plain, Strewn with plots of thickest jungle, Matted with the gory stain.

There the murder-mouthed artillery, In the deadly ambuscade, Wrought the thunder of its treachery On the skeleton brigade.

Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!

When the night set in with rain, Came the savage plundering devils To their work among the slain; And the wounded and the dying In cold blood did share the doom Of their comrades round them lying, Stiff in the dead skyless gloom.

Chillianwallah, Chillianwallah!

Thou wilt be a doleful chord, And a mystic note of mourning That will need no chiming word; And that heart will leap with anguish Who may understand thee best; But the hopes of all will languish Till thy memory is at rest.

THE DOE: A FRAGMENT (From 'WANDERING WILLIE')

And--'Yonder look! yoho! yoho!

Nancy is off!' the farmer cried, Advancing by the river side, Red-kerchieft and brown-coated;--'So, My girl, who else could leap like that?

So neatly! like a lady! 'Zounds!

Look at her how she leads the hounds!'

And waving his dusty beaver hat, He cheered across the chase-filled water, And clapt his arm about his daughter, And gave to Joan a courteous hug, And kiss that, like a stubborn plug From generous vats in vastness rounded, The inner wealth and spirit sounded: Eagerly pointing South, where, lo, The daintiest, fleetest-footed doe Led o'er the fields and thro' the furze Beyond: her lively delicate ears p.r.i.c.kt up erect, and in her track A dappled lengthy-striding pack.

Scarce had they cast eyes upon her, When every heart was wagered on her, And half in dread, and half delight, They watched her lovely bounding flight; As now across the flas.h.i.+ng green, And now beneath the stately trees, And now far distant in the dene, She headed on with graceful ease: Hanging aloft with doubled knees, At times athwart some hedge or gate; And slackening pace by slow degrees, As for the foremost foe to wait.

Renewing her outstripping rate Whene'er the hot pursuers neared, By garden wall and paled estate, Where clambering gazers whooped and cheered.

Here winding under elm and oak, And slanting up the sunny hill: Splas.h.i.+ng the water here like smoke Among the mill-holms round the mill.

And--'Let her go; she shows her game, My Nancy girl, my pet and treasure!'

The farmer sighed: his eyes with pleasure Br.i.m.m.i.n.g: ''Tis my daughter's name, My second daughter lying yonder.'

And Willie's eye in search did wander, And caught at once, with moist regard, The white gleams of a grey churchyard.

'Three weeks before my girl had gone, And while upon her pillows propped, She lay at eve; the weakling fawn - For still it seems a fawn just dropt A se'nnight--to my Nancy's bed I brought to make my girl a gift: The mothers of them both were dead: And both to bless it was my drift, By giving each a friend; not thinking How rapidly my girl was sinking.

And I remember how, to pat Its neck, she stretched her hand so weak, And its cold nose against her cheek Pressed fondly: and I fetched the mat To make it up a couch just by her, Where in the lone dark hours to lie: For neither dear old nurse nor I Would any single wish deny her.

And there unto the last it lay; And in the pastures cared to play Little or nothing: there its meals And milk I brought: and even now The creature such affection feels For that old room that, when and how, 'Tis strange to mark, it slinks and steals To get there, and all day conceals.

And once when nurse who, since that time, Keeps house for me, was very sick, Waking upon the midnight chime, And listening to the stair-clock's click, I heard a rustling, half uncertain, Close against the dark bed-curtain: And while I thrust my leg to kick, And feel the phantom with my feet, A loving tongue began to lick My left hand lying on the sheet; And warm sweet breath upon me blew, And that 'twas Nancy then I knew.

So, for her love, I had good cause To have the creature "Nancy" christened.'

He paused, and in the moment's pause, His eyes and Willie's strangely glistened.

Nearer came Joan, and Bessy hung With face averted, near enough To hear, and sob unheard; the young And careless ones had scampered off Meantime, and sought the loftiest place To beacon the approaching chase.

'Daily upon the meads to browse, Goes Nancy with those dairy cows You see behind the clematis: And such a favourite she is, That when fatigued, and helter skelter, Among them from her foes to shelter, She dashes when the chase is over, They'll close her in and give her cover, And bend their horns against the hounds, And low, and keep them out of bounds!

From the house dogs she dreads no harm, And is good friends with all the farm, Man, and bird, and beast, howbeit Their natures seem so opposite.

And she is known for many a mile, And noted for her splendid style, For her clear leap and quick slight hoof; Welcome she is in many a roof.

And if I say, I love her, man!

I say but little: her fine eyes full Of memories of my girl, at Yule And May-time, make her dearer than Dumb brute to men has been, I think.

So dear I do not find her dumb.

I know her ways, her slightest wink, So well; and to my hand she'll come, Sidelong, for food or a caress, Just like a loving human thing.

Nor can I help, I do confess, Some touch of human sorrowing To think there may be such a doubt That from the next world she'll be shut out, And parted from me! And well I mind How, when my girl's last moments came, Her soft eyes very soft and kind, She joined her hands and prayed the same, That she "might meet her father, mother, Sister Bess, and each dear brother, And with them, if it might be, one Who was her last companion."

Meaning the fawn--the doe you mark - For my bay mare was then a foal, And time has pa.s.sed since then:- but hark!'

For like the shrieking of a soul Shut in a tomb, a darkened cry Of inward-wailing agony Surprised them, and all eyes on each Fixed in the mute-appealing speech Of self-reproachful apprehension: Knowing not what to think or do: But Joan, recovering first, broke through The instantaneous suspension, And knelt upon the ground, and guessed The bitterness at a glance, and pressed Into the comfort of her breast The deep-throed quaking shape that drooped In misery's wilful aggravation, Before the farmer as he stooped, Touched with accusing consternation: Soothing her as she sobbed aloud:- 'Not me! not me! Oh, no, no, no!

Not me! G.o.d will not take me in!

Nothing can wipe away my sin!

I shall not see her: you will go; You and all that she loves so: Not me! not me! Oh, no, no, no!'

Colourless, her long black hair, Like seaweed in a tempest tossed Tangling astray, to Joan's care She yielded like a creature lost: Yielded, drooping toward the ground, As doth a shape one half-hour drowned, And heaved from sea with mast and spar, All dark of its immortal star.

And on that tender heart, inured To flatter basest grief, and fight Despair upon the brink of night, She suffered herself to sink, a.s.sured Of refuge; and her ear inclined To comfort; and her thoughts resigned To counsel; her wild hair let brush From off her weeping brows; and shook With many little sobs that took Deeper-drawn breaths, till into sighs, Long sighs, they sank; and to the 'hus.h.!.+'

Of Joan's gentle chide, she sought Childlike to check them as she ought, Looking up at her infantwise.

And Willie, gazing on them both, s.h.i.+vered with bliss through blood and brain, To see the darling of his troth Like a maternal angel strain The sinful and the sinless child At once on either breast, and there In peace and promise reconciled Unite them: nor could Nature's care With subtler sweet beneficence Have fed the springs of penitence, Still keeping true, though harshly tried, The vital prop of human pride.

BEAUTY ROHTRAUT (From Moricke)

What is the name of King Ringang's daughter?

Rohtraut, Beauty Rohtraut!

And what does she do the livelong day, Since she dare not knit and spin alway?

O hunting and fis.h.i.+ng is ever her play!

And, heigh! that her huntsman I might be!

I'd hunt and fish right merrily!

Be silent, heart!

And it chanced that, after this some time, - Rohtraut, Beauty Rohtraut, - The boy in the Castle has gained access, And a horse he has got and a huntsman's dress, To hunt and to fish with the merry Princess; And, O! that a king's son I might be!

Beauty Rohtraut I love so tenderly.

Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ my heart.

Under a grey old oak they sat, Beauty, Beauty Rohtraut!

She laughs: 'Why look you so slyly at me?

If you have heart enough, come, kiss me.'

Cried the breathless boy, 'kiss thee?'

But he thinks, kind fortune has favoured my youth; And thrice he has kissed Beauty Rohtraut's mouth.

Down! down! mad heart.