Poems by George Meredith Volume Iii Part 25

High climbs June's wild rose, Her bush all blooms in a swarm; And swift from the bud she blows, In a day when the wooer is warm; Frank to receive and give, Her bosom is open to bee and sun: Pride she has none, Nor shame she knows; Happy to live.

Unlike those of the garden nigh, Her queenly sisters enthroned by art; Loosening petals one by one To the fiery Pa.s.sion's dart Superbly shy.

For them in some glory of hair, Or nest of the heaving mounds to lie, Or path of the bride bestrew.

Ever are they the theme for song.

But nought of that is her share.

Hardly from wayfarers tramping along, A glance they care not to renew.

And she at a word of the claims of kin Shrinks to the level of roads and meads: She is only a plain princess of the weeds, As an outcast witless of sin: Much disregarded, save by the few Who love her, that has not a spot of deceit, No promise of sweet beyond sweet, Often descending to sour.

On any fair breast she would die in an hour.

Praises she scarce could bear, Were any wild poet to praise.

Her aim is to rise into light and air.

One of the darlings of Earth, no more, And little it seems in the dusty ways, Unless to the gra.s.ses nodding beneath; The bird clapping wings to soar, The clouds of an evetide's wreath.

THE CALL

Under what spell are we debased By fears for our inviolate Isle, Whose record is of dangers faced And flung to heel with even smile?

Is it a vaster force, a subtler guile?

They say Exercitus designs To match the famed Salsipotent Where on her sceptre she reclines; Awake: but were a slumber sent By guilty G.o.ds, more fell his foul intent.

The subtler web, the vaster foe, Well may we meet when drilled for deeds: But in these days of wealth at flow, A word of breezy warning breeds The pained responses seen in lakeside reeds.

We fain would stand contemplative, All innocent as meadow gra.s.s; In human goodness fain believe, Believe a cloud is formed to pa.s.s; Its shadows chase with draughts of hippocras.

Others have gone; the way they went Sweet sunny now, and safe our nest.

Humanity, enlightenment, Against the warning hum protest: Let the world hear that we know what is best.

So do the beatific speak; Yet have they ears, and eyes as well; And if not with a paler cheek, They feel the s.h.i.+vers in them dwell, That something of a dubious future tell.

For huge possessions render slack The power we need to hold them fast; Save when a quickened heart shall make Our people one, to meet what blast May blow from temporal heavens overcast.

Our people one! Nor they with strength Dependent on a single arm: Alert, and braced the whole land's length, Rejoicing in their manhood's charm For friend or foe; to succour, not to harm.

Has ever weakness won esteem?

Or counts it as a prized ally?

They who have read in History deem It ranks among the slavish fry, Whose claim to live justiciary Fates deny.

It can not be declared we are A nation till from end to end The land can show such front to war As bids a crouching foe expend His ire in air, and preferably be friend.

We dreading him, we do him wrong; For fears discolour, fears invite.

Like him, our task is to be strong; Unlike him, claiming not by might To s.n.a.t.c.h an envied treasure as a right.

So may a stouter brotherhood At home be signalled over sea For righteous, and be understood, Nay, welcomed, when 'tis shown that we All duties have embraced in being free.

This Britain slumbering, she is rich; Lies placid as a cradled child; At times with an uneasy twitch, That tells of dreams unduly wild.

Shall she be with a foreign drug defiled?

The grandeur of her deeds recall; Look on her face so kindly fair: This Britain! and were she to fall, Mankind would breathe a harsher air, The nations miss a light of leading rare.

ON COMO

A rainless darkness drew o'er the lake As we lay in our boat with oars uns.h.i.+pped.

It seemed neither cloud nor water awake, And forth of the low black curtain slipped Thunderless lightning. Scoff no more At angels imagined in downward flight For the daughters of earth as fabled of yore: Here was beauty might well invite Dark heavens to gleam with the fire of a sun Resurgent; here the exchanged embrace Worthy of heaven and earth made one.

And witness it, ye of the privileged s.p.a.ce, Said the flash; and the mountains, as from an abyss For quivering seconds leaped up to attest That given, received, renewed was the kiss; The lips to lips and the breast to breast; All in a glory of ecstasy, swift As an eagle at prey, and pure as the prayer Of an infant bidden joined hands uplift To be guarded through darkness by spirits of air, Ere setting the sails of sleep till day.

Slowly the low cloud swung, and far It panted along its mirrored way; Above loose threads one sanctioning star, The wonder of what had been witnessed, sealed, And with me still as in crystal gla.s.sed Are the depths alight, the heavens revealed, Where on to the Alps the muteness pa.s.sed.

MILTON--DECEMBER 9, 1608: DECEMBER 9, 1908

What splendour of imperial station man, The Tree of Life, may reach when, rooted fast, His branching stem points way to upper air And skyward still aspires, we see in him Who sang for us the Archangelical host, Made Morning, by old Darkness urged to the abyss; A voice that down three centuries onward rolls; Onward will roll while lives our English tongue, In the devout of music unsurpa.s.sed Since Piety won Heaven's ear on Israel's harp.

The face of Earth, the soul of Earth, her charm, Her dread austerity; the quavering fate Of mortals with blind hope by pa.s.sion swayed, His mind embraced, the while on trodden soil, Defender of the Commonwealth, he joined Our temporal fray, whereof is vital fruit, And, choosing armoury of the Scholar, stood Beside his peers to raise the voice for Freedom: Nor has fair Liberty a champion armed To meet on heights or plains the Sophister Throughout the ages, equal to this man, Whose spirit breathed high Heaven, and drew thence The ethereal sword to smite.

Were England sunk Beneath the s.h.i.+fting tides, her heart, her brain, The smile she wears, the faith she holds, her best, Would live full-toned in the grand delivery Of his cathedral speech: an utterance Almost divine, and such as h.e.l.lespont, Cras.h.i.+ng its breakers under Ida's frown, Inspired: yet worthier he, whose instrument Was by comparison the coa.r.s.e reed-pipe; Whereof have come the marvellous harmonies, Which, with his lofty theme, of infinite range, Abash, entrance, exalt.

We need him now, This latest Age in repet.i.tion cries: For Belial, the adroit, is in our midst; Mammon, more swoln to squeeze the slavish sweat From hopeless toil: and overshadowingly (Aggrandized, monstrous in his grinning mask Of hypocritical Peace,) inveterate Moloch Remains the great example.

Homage to him His debtor band, innumerable as waves Running all golden from an eastern sun, Joyfully render, in deep reverence Subscribe, and as they speak their Milton's name, Rays of his glory on their foreheads bear.

IRELAND

Fire in her ashes Ireland feels And in her veins a glow of heat.

To her the lost old time, appeals For resurrection, good to greet: Not as a shape with spectral eyes, But humanly maternal, young In all that quickens pride, and wise To speak the best her bards have sung.

You read her as a land distraught, Where bitterest rebel pa.s.sions seethe.

Look with a core of heart in thought, For so is known the truth beneath.

She came to you a loathing bride, And it has been no happy bed.

Believe in her as friend, allied By bonds as close as those who wed.

Her speech is held for hatred's cry; Her silence tells of treason hid: Were it her aim to burst the tie, She sees what iron laws forbid.

Excess of heart obscures from view A head as keen as yours to count.

Trust her, that she may prove her true In links whereof is love the fount.