The Story Of A Round-House And Other Poems Part 16

BEAUTY

I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain: I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing gra.s.s and the soft warm April rain.

I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea, And seen strange lands from under the arched white sails of s.h.i.+ps; But the loveliest things of beauty G.o.d ever has showed to me, Are her voice, and her hair, and eyes, and the dear red curve of her lips.

THE SEEKERS

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blessed abode, But the hope of the City of G.o.d at the other end of the road.

Not for us are content, and quiet, and peace of mind, For we go seeking a city that we shall never find.

There is no solace on earth for us--for such as we-- Who search for a hidden city that we shall never see.

Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.

We seek the City of G.o.d, and the haunt where beauty dwells, And we find the noisy mart and the sound of burial bells.

Never the golden city, where radiant people meet, But the dolorous town where mourners are going about the street.

We travel the dusty road till the light of the day is dim, And sunset shows us spires away on the world's rim.

We travel from dawn to dusk, till the day is past and by, Seeking the Holy City beyond the rim of the sky.

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blest abode, But the hope of the City of G.o.d at the other end of the road.

PRAYER

When the last sea is sailed, when the last shallow's charted, When the last field is reaped, and the last harvest stored, When the last fire is out and the last guest departed, Grant the last prayer that I shall pray, be good to me, O Lord.

And let me pa.s.s in a night at sea, a night of storm and thunder, In the loud crying of the wind through sail and rope and spar, Send me a ninth great peaceful wave to drown and roll me under To the cold tunny-fish's home where the drowned galleons are.

And in the dim green quiet place far out of sight and hearing, Grant I may hear at whiles the wash and thresh of the sea-foam About the fine keen bows of the stately clippers steering Towards the lone northern star and the fair ports of home.

DAWN

The dawn comes cold: the haystack smokes, The green twigs crackle in the fire, The dew is dripping from the oaks, And sleepy men bear milking-yokes Slowly towards the cattle-byre.

Down in the town a clock strikes six, The grey east heaven burns and glows, The dew s.h.i.+nes on the thatch of ricks, A slow old crone comes gathering sticks, The red c.o.c.k in the ox-yard crows.

Beyond the stack where we have lain The road runs twisted like a snake (The white road to the land of Spain), The road that we must foot again, Though the feet halt and the heart ache.

LAUGH AND BE MERRY

Laugh and be merry, remember, better the world with a song, Better the world with a blow in the teeth of a wrong.

Laugh, for the time is brief, a thread the length of a span.

Laugh and be proud to belong to the old proud pageant of man.

Laugh and be merry: remember, in olden time.

G.o.d made Heaven and Earth for joy He took in a rhyme, Made them, and filled them full with the strong red wine of His mirth, The splendid joy of the stars: the joy of the earth.

So we must laugh and drink from the deep blue cup of the sky, Join the jubilant song of the great stars sweeping by, Laugh, and battle, and work, and drink of the wine outpoured In the dear green earth, the sign of the joy of the Lord.

Laugh and be merry together, like brothers akin, Guesting awhile in the rooms of a beautiful inn, Glad till the dancing stops, and the lilt of the music ends.

Laugh till the game is played; and be you merry, my friends.

JUNE TWILIGHT

The twilight comes; the sun Dips down and sets, The boys have done Play at the nets.

In a warm golden glow The woods are steeped.

The shadows grow; The bat has cheeped.

Sweet smells the new-mown hay; The mowers pa.s.s Home, each his way, Through the gra.s.s.

The night-wind stirs the fern, A night-jar spins; The windows burn In the inns.

Dusky it grows. The moon!

The dews descend.

Love, can this beauty in our hearts End?

ROADWAYS

One road leads to London, One road runs to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails.

One road leads to the river, As it goes singing slow; My road leads to s.h.i.+pping, Where the bronzed sailors go.

Leads me, lures me, calls me To salt green tossing sea; A road without earth's road-dust Is the right road for me.

A wet road heaving, s.h.i.+ning, And wild with seagulls' cries, A mad salt sea-wind blowing The salt spray in my eyes.