A Cluster of Grapes Part 5

IX

Then up he sprung, and with his knife-- And with his knife He let out jeering Johnny's life, Yes; there, at set of sun.

The slant ray through the window nigh Gilded John's blood and glazing eye, Ere scarcely Mother Lee and I Knew that the deed was done.

X

The taverns tell the gloomy tale, The gloomy tale, How that at Ivel-chester jail My Love, my sweetheart swung; Though stained till now by no misdeed Save one horse ta'en in time o' need; (Blue Jimmy stole right many a steed Ere his last fling he flung.)

XI

Thereaft I walked the world alone, Alone, alone!

On his death-day I gave my groan And dropped his dead-born child.

'Twas nigh the jail, beneath a tree, None tending me; for Mother Lee Had died at Glaston, leaving me Unfriended on the wild.

XII

And in the night as I lay weak, As I lay weak, The leaves a-falling on my cheek, The red moon low declined-- The ghost of him I'd die to kiss Rose up and said: "Ah, tell me this!

Was the child mine, or was it his?

Speak, that I rest may find!"

XIII

O doubt not but I told him then, I told him then, That I had kept me from all men Since we joined lips and swore.

Whereat he smiled, and thinned away As the wind stirred to call up day ...

--'Tis past! And here alone I stray Haunting the Western Moor.

1902.

CHORUS FROM "THE DYNASTS"

(Part III).

Last as first the question rings Of the Will's long travailings; Why the All-mover, Why the All-prover Ever urges on and measures out the droning tune of Things.

Heaving dumbly As we deem, Moulding numbly As in dream, Apprehending not how fare the sentient subjects of Its scheme.

Nay;--shall not Its blindness break?

Yea, must not Its heart awake, Promptly tending To Its mending In a genial germing purpose, and for loving-kindness' sake?

Should It never Curb or cure Aught whatever Those endure Whom It quickens, let them darkle to extinction swift and sure.

But a stirring thrills the air, Like to sounds of joyance there That the rages Of the ages Shall be cancelled, and deliverance offered from the darts that were, Consciousness the Will informing, till It fas.h.i.+on all things fair!

1907.

THE BALLAD SINGER

Sing, Ballad-singer, raise a hearty tune; Make me forget that there was ever a one I walked with in the meek light of the moon When the day's work was done.

Rhyme, Ballad-rhymer, start a country song; Make me forget that she whom I loved well Swore she would love me dearly, love me long, Then--what I cannot tell!

Sing, Ballad-singer, from your little book; Make me forget those heart-breaks, achings, fears; Make me forget her name, her sweet sweet look-- Make me forget her tears.

RALPH HODGSON

THE MOOR

The world's gone forward to its latest fair And dropt an old man done with by the way, To sit alone among the bats and stare At miles and miles and miles of moorland bare Lit only with last shreds of dying day.

Not all the world, not all the world's gone by; Old man, you're like to meet one traveller still, A journeyman well kenned for courtesy To all that walk at odds with life and limb; If this be he now riding up the hill Maybe he'll stop and take you up with him....

"But thou art Death?" "Of Heavenly Seraphim None else to seek thee out and bid thee come."

"I only care that thou art come from Him, Unbody me--I'm tired--and get me home."

TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN

Time, you old gipsy man, Will you not stay, Put up your caravan Just for one day?

All things I'll give you Will you be my guest, Bells for your jennet Of silver the best, Goldsmiths shall beat you A great golden ring, Peac.o.c.ks shall bow to you, Little boys sing, Oh, and sweet girls will Festoon you with may, Time, you old gipsy, Why hasten away?

Last week in Babylon, Last night in Rome, Morning, and in the crush Under Paul's dome; Under Paul's dial You tighten your rein, Only a moment And off once again; Off to some city Now blind in the womb, Off to another Ere that's in the tomb.

Time, you old gipsy man, Will you not stay, Put up your caravan Just for one day?

GHOUL CARE

Sour fiend, go home and tell the Pit: For once you met your master, A man who carried in his soul Three charms against disaster, The Devil and disaster.

Away, away, and tell the tale And start your whelps a-whining, Say "In the greenwood of his soul A lizard's eye was s.h.i.+ning, A little eye kept s.h.i.+ning."

Away, away, and salve your sores, And set your hags a-groaning, Say "In the greenwood of his soul A drowsy bee was droning, A dreamy bee was droning."

Prodigious Bat! Go start the walls Of h.e.l.l with horror ringing, Say "In the greenwood of his soul There was a goldfinch singing, A pretty goldfinch singing."

And then come back, come, if you please, A fiercer ghoul and ghaster, With all the glooms and s.m.u.ts of h.e.l.l Behind you, I'm your master!

You know I'm still your master.