Fairies and Fusiliers Part 7

An old man's life of beer and whisky drinking, His years of kidnapping and wicked fighting; And how at last, into a fever sinking, Remorsefully he died, his bedclothes biting.

But suddenly I saw the bright green cover Of a thin pretty book right down below; I s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and turned the pages over, To find it full of poetry, and so Put it down my neck with quick hands like a lover, And turned to watch if the old man saw it go.

The book was full of funny muddling mazes, Each rounded off into a lovely song, And most extraordinary and monstrous phrases Knotted with rhymes like a slave-driver's thong.

And metre twisting like a chain of daisies With great big splendid words a sentence long.

I took the book to bed with me and gloated, Learning the lines that seemed to sound most grand; So soon the pretty emerald green was coated With jam and greasy marks from my hot hand, While round the nursery for long months there floated Wonderful words no one could understand.

IN THE WILDERNESS

Christ of His gentleness Thirsting and hungering, Walked in the wilderness; Soft words of grace He spoke Unto lost desert-folk That listened wondering.

He heard the bitterns call From ruined palace-wall, Answered them brotherly.

He held communion With the she-pelican Of lonely piety.

Basilisk, c.o.c.katrice, Flocked to his homilies, With mail of dread device, With monstrous barbed slings, With eager dragon-eyes; Great rats on leather wings And poor blind broken things, Foul in their miseries.

And ever with Him went, Of all His wanderings Comrade, with ragged coat, Gaunt ribs--poor innocent-- Bleeding foot, burning throat, The guileless old scapegoat; For forty nights and days Followed in Jesus' ways, Sure guard behind Him kept, Tears like a lover wept.

CHERRY-TIME

Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune: Merry, merry, Take a cherry; Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder, Mine are sweeter For the eater Under the moon.

And you'll be fairies soon.

In the cherry pluckt at night, With the dew of summer swelling, There's a juice of pure delight, Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.

Merry, merry, Take a cherry; Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder Mine are sweeter For the eater In the moonlight.

And you'll be fairies quite.

When I sound the fairy call, Gather here in silent meeting, Chin to knee on the orchard wall, Cooled with dew and cherries eating.

Merry, merry, Take a cherry; Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder, Mine are sweeter.

For the eater When the dews fall.

And you'll be fairies all.

1915

I've watched the Seasons pa.s.sing slow, so slow, In the fields between La Ba.s.see and Bethune; Primroses and the first warm day of Spring, Red poppy floods of June, August, and yellowing Autumn, so To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow, And you've been everything.

Dear, you've been everything that I most lack In these soul-deadening trenches--pictures, books, Music, the quiet of an English wood, Beautiful comrade-looks, The narrow, bouldered mountain-track, The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black, And Peace, and all that's good.

FREE VERSE

I now delight In spite Of the might And the right Of cla.s.sic tradition, In writing And reciting Straight ahead, Without let or omission, Just any little rhyme In any little time That runs in my head; Because, I've said, My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed Like Prussian soldiers on parade That march, Stiff as starch, Foot to foot, Boot to boot, Blade to blade, b.u.t.ton to b.u.t.ton Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.

No! No!

My rhymes must go Turn 'ee, twist 'ee, Twinkling, frosty, Will-o'-the-wisp-like, misty; Rhymes I will make Like Keats and Blake And Christina Rossetti, With run and ripple and shake.

How pretty To take A merry little rhyme In a jolly little time And poke it, And choke it, Change it, arrange it, Straight-lace it, deface it, Pleat it with pleats, Sheet it with sheets Of empty conceits, And chop and chew, And hack and hew, And weld it into a uniform stanza, And evolve a neat, Complacent, complete, Academic extravaganza!