Cornish Catches - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Star-like my Lady s.h.i.+nes in her fair white tower.
"Let nothing come nigh her to lead to her joy's betraying, No cloud dull aught of the golden dreams, her dower."
Here am I on my knees, praying.
FEALTY
When my Lady hath Pleasure and friends to spare, And riot of roses strewed in her path of days, And laughter ringing carillons into the air, She needs not me; I travel the lonely ways.
When my Lady hath Youth uplifting a song Like the twitter of birds in a springtime hawthorn bough, And round her the notes of a merry-mad music throng, She needs not me; my music is sad and low.
But when my Lady hath Sorrow to stress her heart, And Pain brings up to her eyes the ghosts of fear, And the music of Youth, and Laughter and Joy depart, Then she will need me: and lo! am I not here?
Here I stand at the gateway and vigil keep, Waiting the summoning sob or the calling sigh; Swift to a.s.suage her tears should my Lady weep; Happy if sorrow for ever may pa.s.s her by.
TREASURE TROVE
You did not know that, gazing on your face, I took its Beauty to my heart for ever, Where it illumines every day with grace, Though Time and tides may sever.
You did not know that, looking in your eyes, I found their Truth, beyond all need for speaking, And knew their gentleness a paradise Worth all a wide world's seeking.
You did not know that every word you spoke Told me the Courage in your heart abiding, And bade me watch, where through the cloud-rifts broke One steady star for guiding.
You did not know. But in my heart I know, The Beauty, Truth, and Courage that enfold you: And when we part I do not let you go: Thus in my heart I hold you.
ROSES AND RUE
You gave me roses, you have given me Rue.
Yet to the Roses memoried fragrance clings, And in their faded petals I renew The first fresh grace of unforgotten things.
G.o.d give you Roses all along the way.
So will I wear contentedly the Rue; And when I greet you with a smile, I pray Shade of my sorrow never fall on you.
DOGMA
Reason's unreasoned castle of defence With turrets towering into far-off skies, Whose superstructure, solid and immense, Is built on shadows and on mysteries.
CREED
Not with light straws, swift swept upon the stream, Not with light foam, blown up along the sh.o.r.e, In calm unmeasured deeps my jewels gleam, Hid in my heart of hearts for evermore.
RELIGION
The one cool joy of all life's broiling day; The one sweet star that gleams where saints have trod; The one clear stream beside the dusty way That leads to G.o.d.
PIETY
A quiet garment for eternal wear, Designed above frail fas.h.i.+on's mortal dress, Worked with a web of faith, a woof of prayer, Coloured with love and fair with gentleness.
BLUE SKY
(From the French of Marcel Doran).
O! weary waste of sh.o.r.eless blue Where weary wing may never rest!
O! awful brightness burning through The barrier of the gate of rest!
My spirit longs to reach the strand Of sorrow-soothing shadowland.
But what can this poor spirit wear To hide the naked wounds, pain-kissed Beneath the searching, ceaseless glare Of cloudless burning amethyst?
Where can the sad grey spirit fly The unrelenting agony?
O! for some shadow-haunted stream Where tired eyes might fall asleep, And in the peace of darkling dream See Sorrow's pageant homeward creep, Feel angel hands with white caress Soothe eyelids dark with heaviness!
O! for some minster where the balm Of cooling touch my wounds might heal; Where always dwells a Sabbath calm, Made sweeter by the solemn peal Of bells, that trembling fill the air With n.o.ble notes of perfect prayer!
SHADOWS
