Collected Poems - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Moving through the dew, moving through the dew, Floats a brother's face to meet me! Is it you? Is it you?
For the night I leave behind keeps these dazzled eyes still blind!
But oh, the little hill-flowers, their scent is wise and kind;
And I shall not lose the way from the darkness to the day, While dust can cling as their scent clings to memory for aye; And the least link in the chain can recall the whole again, And heaven at last resume its far-flung harvests, grain by grain.
To the hill-flowers clings my dust, and tho' eyeless Death may thrust All else into the darkness, in their heaven I put my trust; And a dawn shall bid me climb to the little spread of thyme Where first I heard the ripple of the fountain-heads of rhyme.
And a fir-wood that I know, from dawn to sunset-glow, Shall whisper to a lonely sea, that swings far, far below.
Death, thy dawn makes all things new. Hills of Youth, I come to you, Moving through the dew, moving through the dew.
THE CAROL OF THE FIR-TREE
Quoth the Fir-tree, "Orange and vine"
_Sing 'Nowell, Nowell, Nowell'!_ "Have their honour: I have mine!"
_In Excelsis Gloria!_ "I am kin to the great king's house,"
_Ring 'Nowell, Nowell, Nowell'!_ "And Lebanon whispers in my boughs."
_In Excelsis Gloria!_
Apple and cherry, pear and plum, _Winds of Autumn, sigh 'Nowell_'!
All the trees like mages come _Bending low with 'Gloria'!_ Holding out on every hand _Summer pilgrims to Nowell!_ Gorgeous gifts from Elfin-land.
_And the May saith 'Gloria'!_
Out of the darkness--who shall say _Gold and myrrh for this Nowell!_ How they win their wizard way?
_Out of the East with 'Gloria'!_ Men that eat of the sun and dew _Angels laugh and sing, 'Nowell.'_ Call it "fruit," and say it "grew"!
_Into the West with 'Gloria'!_
"Leaves that fall," whispered the Fir _Through the forest sing 'Nowell'!_ "I am winter's minister."
_In Excelsis Gloria!_ Summer friends may come and go, _Up the mountain sing 'Nowell.'_ Love abides thro' storm and snow.
_Down the valley, 'Gloria'!_
"On my boughs, on mine on mine,"
_Father and mother, sing 'Nowell'!_ "All the fruits of the earth shall twine."
_Bending low with 'Gloria.'_ "Sword of wood and doll of wax"
_Little children, sing 'Nowell.'_ "Swing on the stem was cleft with the axe!"
_Craftsmen all, a 'Gloria.'_
"Hear! I have looked on the other side."
_Out of the East, O sing 'Nowell'!_ "Because to live this night I died!"
_Into the West with 'Gloria.'_ "Hear! In this lighted room I have found"
_Ye that seek, O sing 'Nowell'!_ "The spell that worketh underground."
_Ye that doubt, a 'Gloria.'_
"I have found it, even I,"
_Ye that are lowly, sing 'Nowell'!_ "The secret of this alchemy!"
_Ye that are poor, a 'Gloria.'_ "Look, your tinsel turneth to gold."
_Sing 'Nowell! Nowell! Nowell!'_ "Your dust to a hand for love to hold!"
_In Excelsis Gloria._
"Lay the axe at my young stem now!"
_Woodman, woodman, sing 'Nowell.'_ "Set a star on every bough!"
_In Excelsis Gloria!_ "Hall and cot shall see me stand,"
_Rich and poor man, sing 'Nowell'!_ "Giver of gifts from Elfin-land."
_Oberon, answer 'Gloria.'_
"Hung by the hilt on your Christmas-tree"
_Little children, sing 'Nowell'!_ "Your wooden sword is a cross for me."
_Emperors, a 'Gloria.'_ "I have found that fabulous stone"
_Ocean-worthies, cry 'Nowell.'_ "Which turneth all things into one,"
_Wise men all, a 'Gloria.'_
"It is not ruby nor anything"
_Jeweller, jeweller, sing 'Nowell'!_ "Fit for the crown of an earthly King:"
_In Excelsis Gloria!_ "It is not here! It is not there!"
_Traveller, rest and cry 'Nowell'!_ "It is one thing and everywhere!"
_Heaven and Earth sing 'Gloria.'_
"It is the earth, the moon, the sun,"
_Mote in the sunbeam, sing 'Nowell'!_ "And all the stars that march as one."
_In Excelsis Gloria!_ "Here, by the touch of it, I can see"
_Sing, O Life, a sweet Nowell!_ "The world's King die on a Christmas-tree."
_Answer, Death, with 'Gloria.'_
"Here, not set in a realm apart,"
_East and West are one 'Nowell'!_ "Holy Land is in your Heart!"
_North and South one 'Gloria'!_ "Death is a birth, birth is a death,"
_Love is all, O sing 'Nowell'!_ "And London one with Nazareth."
_And all the World a 'Gloria.'_
"And angels over your heart's roof sing"
_Birds of G.o.d, O pour 'Nowell'!_ "That a poor man's son is the Son of a King!"
_Out of your heart this 'Gloria'!_ "Round the world you'll not away"
_In your own soul, they sing 'Nowell'!_ "From Holy Land this Christmas Day!"
_In your own soul, this 'Gloria.'_
LAVENDER
Lavender, lavender That makes your linen sweet; The hawker brings his basket Down the sooty street: The dirty doors and pavements Are simmering in the heat: He brings a dream to London, And drags his weary feet.
Lavender, lavender, From where the bee hums, To the loud roar of London, With purple dreams he comes, From ragged lanes of wild-flowers To ragged London slums, With a basket full of lavender And purple dreams he comes.
