Collected Poems Volume I Part 24

And then a voice, "Why, here they are!"

And--as it seemed--we woke; The sweet old skies, great star by star Upon our vision broke; Field over field of heavenly blue Rose o'er us; then a voice we knew Softly and gently spoke-- "See, they are sleeping by the side Of that dear little one--who died."

PART V

THE HAPPY ENDING

We told dear father all our tale That night before we went to bed, And at the end his face grew pale, And he bent over us and said (Was it not strange?) he, too, was there, A weary, weary watch to keep Before the gates of the City of Sleep; But, ere we came, he did not dare Even to dream of entering in, Or even to hope for Peterkin.

He was the poor blind man, he said, And we--how low he bent his head!

Then he called mother near; and low He whispered to us--"Prompt me now; For I forget that song we heard, But you remember every word."

Then memory came like a breaking morn, And we breathed it to him--_A child was born!_ And there he drew us to his breast And softly murmured all the rest.--

_The wise men came to greet him with their gifts of myrrh and frankincense,-- Gold and myrrh and frankincense they brought to make him mirth; And would you know the way to win to little brother Peterkin, My childhood's heart shall guide you through the glories of the earth._

Then he looked up and mother knelt Beside us, oh, her eyes were bright; Her arms were like a lovely belt All round us as we said Good-night To father: _he_ was crying now, But they were happy tears, somehow; For there we saw dear mother lay Her cheek against his cheek and say-- Hush, let me kiss those tears away.

_DEDICATION_

_What can a wanderer bring To little ones loved like you?

You have songs of your own to sing That are far more steadfast and true, Crumbs of pity for birds That flit o'er your sun-swept lawn, Songs that are dearer than all our words With a love that is clear as the dawn._

_What should a dreamer devise, In the depths of his wayward will, To deepen the gleam of your eyes Who can dance with the Sun-child still?

Yet you glanced on his lonely way, You cheered him in dream and deed, And his heart is o'erflowing, o'erflowing to-day With a love that--you never will need._

_What can a pilgrim teach To dwellers in fairy-land?

Truth that excels all speech You murmur and understand!

All he can sing you he brings; But--one thing more if he may, One thing more that the King of Kings Will take from the child on the way._

_Yet how can a child of the night Brighten the light of the sun?

How can he add a delight To the dances that never are done?

Ah, what if he struggles to turn Once more to the sweet old skies With praise and praise, from the fetters that burn, To the G.o.d that brightened your eyes?_

_Yes; he is weak, he will fail, Yet, what if, in sorrows apart, One thing, one should avail, The cry of a grateful heart; It has wings: they return through the night To a sky where the light lives yet, To the clouds that kneel on his mountain-height And the path that his feet forget._

_What if he struggles and still Fails and struggles again?

What if his broken will Whispers the struggle is vain?

Once at least he has risen Because he remembered your eyes; Once they have brought to his earthly prison The pa.s.sion of Paradise._

_Kind little eyes that I love, Eyes forgetful of mine, In a dream I am bending above Your sleep, and you open and s.h.i.+ne; And I know as my own grow blind With a lonely prayer for your sake, He will hear--even me--little eyes that were kind, G.o.d bless you, asleep or awake._

FORTY SINGING SEAMEN AND OTHER POEMS

_TO GARNETT_

FORTY SINGING SEAMEN

"In our lands be Beeres and Lyons of dyvers colours as ye redd, grene, black, and white. And in our land be also unicornes and these Unicornes slee many Lyons.... Also there dare no man make a lye in our lande, for if he dyde he sholde incontynent be sleyn."--_Mediaeval Epistle, of Pope Prester John._

I

Across the seas of Wonderland to Mogadore we plodded, Forty singing seamen in an old black barque, And we landed in the twilight where a Polyphemus nodded With his battered moon-eye winking red and yellow through the dark!

For his eye was growing mellow, Rich and ripe and red and yellow, As was time, since old Ulysses made him bellow in the dark!

_Cho._--Since Ulysses bunged his eye up with a pine-torch in the dark!

II

_Were_ they mountains in the gloaming or the giant's ugly shoulders Just beneath the rolling eyeball, with its bleared and vinous glow, Red and yellow o'er the purple of the pines among the boulders And the s.h.a.ggy horror brooding on the sullen slopes below, _Were_ they pines among the boulders Or the hair upon his shoulders?

We were only simple seamen, so of course we didn't know.

_Cho._--We were simple singing seamen, so of course we couldn't know.

III

But we crossed a plain of poppies, and we came upon a fountain Not of water, but of jewels, like a spray of leaping fire; And behind it, in an emerald glade, beneath a golden mountain There stood a crystal palace, for a sailor to admire; For a troop of ghosts came round us, Which with leaves of bay they crowned us, Then with grog they well nigh drowned us, to the depth of our desire!

_Cho._--And 'twas very friendly of them, as a sailor can admire!

IV

There was music all about us, we were growing quite forgetful We were only singing seamen from the dirt of London-town, Though the nectar that we swallowed seemed to vanish half regretful As if we wasn't good enough to take such vittles down, When we saw a sudden figure, Tall and black as any n.i.g.g.e.r, Like the devil--only bigger--drawing near us with a frown!

_Cho._--Like the devil--but much bigger--and he wore a golden crown!

V

And "What's all this?" he growls at us! With dignity we chaunted, "Forty singing seamen, sir, as won't be put upon!"

"What? Englishmen?" he cries, "Well, if ye don't mind being haunted, Faith you're welcome to my palace; I'm the famous Prester John!

Will ye walk into my palace?

I don't bear 'ee any malice!

One and all ye shall be welcome in the halls of Prester John!"

_Cho._--So we walked into the palace and the halls of Prester John!

VI

Now the door was one great diamond and the hall a hollow ruby-- Big as Beachy Head, my lads, nay bigger by a half!

And I sees the mate wi' mouth agape, a-staring like a b.o.o.by, And the skipper close behind him, with his tongue out like a calf!

Now the way to take it rightly Was to walk along politely Just as if you didn't notice--so I couldn't help but laugh!

_Cho._--For they both forgot their manners and the crew was bound to laugh!