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Poems, 1908-1919
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Over the lake’s end strikes the sun,
White, flameless fire; some purity
Thrilling the mist, a splendour won
Out of the world’s heart. Let there be
Thoughts, and atonements, and desires,
Proud limbs, and undeliberate tongue,
Where now we move with mortal oars
Among
Immortal dews and fires.
So the old mating goes apace,
Wind with the sea, and blood with thought,
Lover with lover; and the grace
Of understanding comes unsought
When stars into the twilight steer,
Or thrushes build among the may,
Or wonder moves between the hills,
And day
Comes up on Rydal mere.
SEPTEMBER
Wind and the robin’s note to-day
Have heard of autumn and betray
The green long reign of summer.
The rust is falling in the leaves,
September stands beside the sheaves,
The new, the happy comer.
Not sad my season of the red
And russet orchards gaily spread
From Cholesbury to Cooming,
Nor sad when twilit valley trees
Are ships becalmed on misty seas,
And beetles go abooming.
Now soon shall come the morning crowds
Of starlings, soon the coloured clouds
From oak and ash and willow,
And soon the thorn and briar shall be
Rich in their crimson livery,
In scarlet and in yellow.
Spring laughed and thrilled a million veins,
And summer shone above her rains
To fill September’s faring;
September talks as kings who know
The world’s way and superbly go
In robes of wisdom’s wearing.
OLTON POOLS (TO G. C. G.)
Now June walks on the waters,
And the cuckoo’s last enchantment
Passes from Olton pools.
Now dawn comes to my window
Breathing midsummer roses,
And scythes are wet with dew.
Is it not strange for ever
That, bowered in this wonder,
Man keeps a jealous heart?..
That June and the June waters,
And birds and dawn-lit roses,
Are gospels in the wind,
Fading upon the deserts,
Poor pilgrim revelations?..
Hist … over Olton pools!
OF GREATHAM (TO THOSE WHO LIVE THERE)
For peace, than knowledge more desirable
Into your Sussex quietness I came,
When summer’s green and gold and azure fell
Over the world in flame.
And peace upon your pasture-lands I found,
Where grazing flocks drift on continually,
As little clouds that travel with no sound
Across a windless sky.
Out of your oaks the birds call to their mates
That brood among the pines, where hidden deep
From curious eyes a world’s adventure waits
In columned choirs of sleep.
Under the calm ascension of the night
We heard the mellow lapsing and return
Of night-owls purring in their groundling flight
Through lanes of darkling fern.
Unbroken peace when all the stars were drawn
Back to their lairs of light, and ranked along
From shire to shire the downs out of the dawn
Were risen in golden song.
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