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A Century of Roundels Part 2

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Love, that hears thy death-bell toll Yet, may call to mind Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul Kind.

VI.

How should life, O friend, forget Death, whose guest art thou?

Faith responds to love's regret, How?

Still, for us that bow Sorrowing, still, though life be set, s.h.i.+nes thy bright mild brow.



Yea, though death and thou be met, Love may find thee now Still, albeit we know not yet How.

VII.

Past as music fades, that shone While its life might last; As a song-bird's shadow flown Past!

Death's reverberate blast Now for music's lord has blown Whom thy love held fast.

Dead thy king, and void his throne: Yet for grief at last Love makes music of his own Past.

PAST DAYS

I.

Dead and gone, the days we had together, Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone Round them, flown as flies the blown foam's feather, Dead and gone.

Where we went, we twain, in time foregone, Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether, If I go again, I go alone.

Bound am I with time as with a tether; Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on, Far from deathlike life and changeful weather, Dead and gone.

II.

Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt, We twain together, two brief summers, free From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt Above the sea.

Free from all heed of aught at all were we, Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee.

The Norman downs with bright grey waves for belt Were more for us than inland ways might be; A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt Above the sea.

III.

Cliffs and downs and headlands which the forward-hasting Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns, Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting Cliffs and downs,

These, or ever man was, were: the same sky frowns, Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns.

These we loved of old: but now for me the blasting Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward towns, Clothes with human change these all but everlasting Cliffs and downs.

AUTUMN AND WINTER

I.

Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon Between two dates of death, while men were fain Yet of the living light that all too soon Three months bade wane.

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pa.s.s a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he smote again.

First went my friend, in life's mid light of noon, Who loved the lord of music: then the strain Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June Three months bade wane.

II.

A herald soul before its master's flying Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying A herald soul;

Shades of dead lords of music, who control Men living by the might of men undying, With strength of strains that make delight of dole.

The deep dense dust on death's dim threshold lying Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying A herald soul.

III.

One went before, one after, but so fast They seem gone hence together, from the sh.o.r.e Whence we now gaze: yet ere the mightier pa.s.sed One went before;

One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore On that high joy which music lends us, cast Light round him forth of music's radiant store.

Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast, The mortal G.o.d he wors.h.i.+pped, through the door Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last, One went before.

IV.

A star had set an hour before the sun Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart's pulse yet Thrills audibly: but few took heed, or none, A star had set.

All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret, The deep dirge of the sunset: how should one Soft star be missed in all the concourse met?

But, O sweet single heart whose work is done, Whose songs are silent, how should I forget That ere the sunset's fiery goal was won A star had set?

THE DEATH OF RICHARD WAGNER

I.

Mourning on earth, as when dark hours descend, Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven; when hope and mirth Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend Mourning on earth.

The soul wherein her songs of death and birth, Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend, Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth.

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