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 And the stars were bleak; and the nights were slow。



And a passionate humor seized him there 

 Seized him and held him until there grew

Like life on his canvas; glowing and fair;

 A perilous face  and an angel's; too。



Angel and maiden; and all in one; 

 All but the eyes。   They were there; but yet

They seemed somehow like a soul half done。

 What was the matter?  Did God forget? 。 。 。



But he wrought them at last with a skill so sure

 That her eyes were the eyes of a deathless woman; 

With a gleam of heaven to make them pure;

 And a glimmer of hell to make them human。



God never forgets。   And he worships her

 There in that same still room of his;

For his wife; and his constant arbiter

 Of the world that was and the world that is。



And he wonders yet what her love could be

 To punish him after that strife so grim;

But the longer he lives with her eyes to see;

 The plainer it all comes back to him。









Two Men







There be two men of all mankind

 That I should like to know about;

But search and question where I will;

 I cannot ever find them out。



Melchizedek he praised the Lord;

 And gave some wine to Abraham;

But who can tell what else he did

 Must be more learned than I am。



Ucalegon he lost his house

 When Agamemnon came to Troy;

But who can tell me who he was 

 I'll pray the gods to give him joy。



There be two men of all mankind

 That I'm forever thinking on:

They chase me everywhere I go; 

 Melchizedek; Ucalegon。









Villanelle of Change







Since Persia fell at Marathon;

 The yellow years have gathered fast:

Long centuries have come and gone。



And yet (they say) the place will don

 A phantom fury of the past;

Since Persia fell at Marathon;



And as of old; when Helicon

 Trembled and swayed with rapture vast

(Long centuries have come and gone);



This ancient plain; when night comes on;

 Shakes to a ghostly battle…blast;

Since Persia fell at Marathon。



But into soundless Acheron

 The glory of Greek shame was cast:

Long centuries have come and gone;



The suns of Hellas have all shone;

 The first has fallen to the last: 

Since Persia fell at Marathon;

Long centuries have come and gone。









John Evereldown







〃Where are you going to…night; to…night; 

 Where are you going; John Evereldown?

There's never the sign of a star in sight;

 Nor a lamp that's nearer than Tilbury Town。

Why do you stare as a dead man might?

Where are you pointing away from the light?

And where are you going to…night; to…night; 

 Where are you going; John Evereldown?〃



〃Right through the forest; where none can see;

 There's where I'm going; to Tilbury Town。

The men are asleep;  or awake; may be; 

 But the women are calling John Evereldown。

Ever and ever they call for me;

And while they call can a man be free?

So right through the forest; where none can see;

 There's where I'm going; to Tilbury Town。〃



〃But why are you going so late; so late; 

 Why are you going; John Evereldown?

Though the road be smooth and the path be straight;

 There are two long leagues to Tilbury Town。

Come in by the fire; old man; and wait!

Why do you chatter out there by the gate?

And why are you going so late; so late; 

 Why are you going; John Evereldown?〃



〃I follow the women wherever they call; 

 That's why I'm going to Tilbury Town。

God knows if I pray to be done with it all;

 But God is no friend to John Evereldown。

So the clouds may come and the rain may fall;

The shadows may creep and the dead men crawl; 

But I follow the women wherever they call;

 And that's why I'm going to Tilbury Town。〃









Luke Havergal







Go to the western gate; Luke Havergal; 

There where the vines cling crimson on the wall; 

And in the twilight wait for what will come。

The wind will moan; the leaves will whisper some 

Whisper of her; and strike you as they fall;

But go; and if you trust her she will call。

Go to the western gate; Luke Havergal 

Luke Havergal。



No; there is not a dawn in eastern skies

To rift the fiery night that's in your eyes;

But there; where western glooms are gathering;

The dark will end the dark; if anything:

God slays Himself with every leaf that flies;

And hell is more than half of paradise。

No; there is not a dawn in eastern skies 

In eastern skies。



Out of a grave I come to tell you this; 

Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss

That flames upon your forehead with a glow

That blinds you to the way that you must go。

Yes; there is yet one way to where she is; 

Bitter; but one that faith can never miss。

Out of a grave I come to tell you this 

To tell you this。



There is the western gate; Luke Havergal;

There are the crimson leaves upon the wall。

Go;  for the winds are tearing them away; 

Nor think to riddle the dead words they say;

Nor any more to feel them as they fall;

But go! and if you trust her she will call。

There is the western gate; Luke Havergal 

Luke Havergal。









The House on the Hill







They are all gone away;

 The House is shut and still;

There is nothing more to say。



Through broken walls and gray

 The winds blow bleak and shrill:

They are all gone away。



Nor is there one to…day

 To speak them good or ill:

There is nothing more to say。



Why is it then we stray

 Around that sunken sill?

They are all gone away;



And our poor fancy…play

 For them is wasted skill:

There is nothing more to say。



There is ruin and decay

 In the House on the Hill:

They are all gone away;

There is nothing more to say。









Richard Cory







Whenever Richard Cory went down town;

We people on the pavement looked at him:

He was a gentleman from sole to crown;

Clean favored; and imperially slim。



And he was always quietly arrayed;

And he was always human when he talked;

But still he fluttered pulses when he said;

〃Good…morning;〃 and he glittered when he walked。



And he was rich;  yes; richer than a king; 

And admirably schooled in every grace:

In fine; we thought that he was everything

To make us wish that we were in his place。



So on we worked; and waited for the light;

And went without the meat; and cursed the bread;

And Richard Cory; one calm summer night;

Went home and put a bullet through his head。









Two Octaves







  I





Not by the grief that stuns and overwhelms

All outward recognition of revealed

And righteous omnipresence are the days

Of most of us affrighted and diseased;

But rather by the common snarls of life

That come to test us and to strengthen us

In this the prentice…age of discontent;

Rebelliousness; faint…heartedness; and shame。







  II





When through hot fog the fulgid sun looks down

Upon a stagnant earth where listless men

Laboriously dawdle; curse; and sweat;

Disqualified; unsatisfied; inert; 

It seems to me somehow that God himself

Scans with a close reproach what I have done;

Counts with an unphrased patience my arrears;

And fathoms my unprofitable thoughts。









Calvary







Friendless and faint; with martyred steps and slow;

Faint for the flesh; but for the spirit free;

Stung by the mob that came to see the show;

The Master toiled along to Calvary;

We gibed him; as he went; with houndish glee;

Till his dimmed eyes for us did overflow;

We cursed his vengeless hands thrice wretchedly; 

And this was nineteen hundred years ago。



But after nineteen hundred years the shame

Still clings; and we have not made good the loss

That outraged faith has entered in his name。

Ah; when shall come love's courage to be strong!

Tell me; O Lord  tell me; O Lord; how long

Are we to keep Christ writhing on the cross!









Dear Friends







Dear friends; reproach me not for what I do;

Nor counsel me; nor pity me; nor say

That I am wearing half my life away

For bubble…work that only fools pursue。

And if my bubbles be too small for you;

Blow bigger then your own:  the games we play

To fill the frittered minutes of a day;

Good glasses are to read the spirit through。



And whoso reads may get him some shrewd skill;

And some unprofitable scorn resign;

To praise the very thing that he deplores;

So; friends (dear friends); remember; if you will;

The shame I win for singing is all mine;

The gold I miss for dreaming is all yours。









The Story of the Ashes and the Flame







No matter why; nor whence; nor when she came;

There was her place。  No matter what men said;

No matter what she was; living or dead;

Faithful or not; he loved her all the same。

The story was as old as human shame;

But ever since that lonely night she fled;

With books to blind him; he had only read

The story of the ashes and the flame。



There she was always coming pretty soon

To fool him back; with penitent scared eyes

That had in them the laughter of the moon

For baffled lovers; and to make him think 

Before she gave him time enough to wink 

Sin's kisses were the keys to Paradise。









For Some Poems by Matthew Arnold







Sweeping the chords of Hellas with firm hand;

He wakes lost echoes from song's classic shore;

And brings their crystal cadence back once more

To touch the clouds and sorrows of a land

Where God's truth; cramped and fettered with a band

Of iron creeds; he cheers with golden lore

Of heroes and the men that long before

Wrought the romance of ages yet unscanned。



Still does a cry through sad Valhalla go

For Balder; pierced with Lok's unhappy spray 

For Balder; all but spared by Frea's charms;

And still does art's imperial vista show;

On the hushed sands of Oxus; far away;

Young Sohrab dying in his fathe

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