THE ODYSSEY

A

S one that for a weary space has lain

Lulled by the song of Circe and her wine In gardens near the pale of Proserpine, Where that Æxan isle forgets the main, And only the low lutes of love complain, And only shadows of wan lovers pine, As such an one were glad to know the brine Salt on his lips, and the large air again, So gladly, from the songs of modern speech Men turn, and see the stars, and feel the free Shrill wind beyond the close of heavy flowers, And through the music of the languid hours, They hear like ocean on a western beach The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.

66 ‘JULIET AND HER ROMEO"
(WITH MR. DICKSEE'S PICTURE)

T

AKE “this of Juliet and her Romeo,”

Dear Heart of mine, for though yon budding sky

Yearns o'er Verona, and so long ago

That kiss was kissed; yet surely Thou and I,
Surely it is, whom morning tears apart,

As ruthless men tear tendrilled ivy down:

Is not Verona warm within thy gown,

And Mantua all the world save where thou art?

O happy grace of lovers of old time,
Living to love like gods, and dead to live
Symbols and saints for us who follow them;
Even bitter Death must sweets to lovers give:
See how they wear their tears for diadem,
Throned on the star of an unshaken rhyme.

LETHE

I

HAD a dream of Lethe,-of the brink

Of leaden waters, whither strong men bore
Dead, pallid loves; while others, old and sore,
Brought but their tottering selves, in haste to drink.
And, having drunk, they plunged, and seemed to sink
Their load of love or guilt for evermore,

Reaching with radiant brow the sunny shore
That lay beyond, no more to think and think.

Oh, who will give me, chained to Memory's strand,
A draught of Lethe, salt with final tears,
Were it one drop within the hollow hand?
Oh, who will rid me of the wasted years,

The thought of Life's fair structure vainly planned,
And each false hope, that mocking reappears.

SUNKEN GOLD

dim green depths rot ingot-laden ships,

White hand fell

Lie nestled in the ocean-flower's bell

With Love's old gifts, once kissed by long-drowned lips;
And round some wrought gold cup the sea-grass whips
And hides lost pearls, near pearls still in their shell,
Where sea-weed forests fill each ocean dell,
And seek dim sunlight with their restless tips.

So lie the wasted gifts, the long-lost hopes,
Beneath the now hushed surface of myself,
In lonelier depths than where the diver gropes.
They lie deep, deep; but I at times behold
In doubtful glimpses, on some reefy shelf,
The gleam of irrecoverable gold.

LOVE, DEATH, AND TIME

A

H me, dread friends of mine,-Love, Time, and Death:

Sweet Love, who came to me on sheeny wing,

And gave her to my arms-her lips, her breath,
And all her golden ringlets clustering:
And Time, who gathers in the flying years,
He gave me all, but where is all he gave?
He took my love and left me barren tears,
Weary and lone I follow to the grave.
There Death will end this vision half-divine,
Wan Death, who waits in shadow evermore,
And silent, ere he give the sudden sign;
Oh, gently lead me thro' thy narrow door,

Thou gentle Death, thou trustiest friend of mine—
Ah me, for Love-will Death my love restore?