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Lays and Legends (Second Series)
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Sleep, my darling; mother will sing
Soft low songs to her little king,
Nobody else must listen or hear
The pretty secrets I tell my dear.
Sleep, my darling, sleep while you may —
Sorrow dawns with the dawning day,
Sleep, my baby, sleep, my dear,
Soon enough will the day be here.
Lie here quiet on mother's arm,
Safe from harm;
Nestled closely to mother's breast,
Sleep and rest!
Mother feels your breath's soft stir
Close to her;
Mother holds you, clasps you tight,
All the night.
When the little Jesus lay
On the manger's hay,
He was a Baby, if tales tell true,
Just like you.
And He had no crown to wear
But His bright hair;
And such kisses as I give you
He had too.
Mary never loved her Son
More than I love my little one;
And her Baby never smiled
More divinely than my little child.
Sleep, my darling, sleep while you may —
Sorrow dawns with the dawning day;
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my dear,
All too soon will the day be here.
AN EAST-END TRAGEDY
You said that you would never wed:
"My love, my life's one work lie here,
'Mid crowded alleys, dank and drear,
Where all life's flower-petals are shed!"
You said.
I heard: I bowed to what I heard;
I bowed my head and worshipped you —
So brave, so beautiful, so true —
How could I doubt a single word
I heard?
My sweet, white lily! All the street,
As you passed by, grew clean again;
The fallen, blackened souls of men
Looked heavenward when men heard your feet,
My sweet.
But one came, dared to woo, and won —
He heard your vows, and laughed at them;
He plucked my lily from its stem —
Sacred to all men under sun,
But one!
HERE AND THERE
Ah me, how hot and weary here in town
The days crawl by!
How otherwise they go my heart records,
Where the marsh meadows lie
And white sheep crop the grass, and seagulls sail
Between the lovely earth and lovely sky.
Here the sun grins along the dusty street
Beneath pale skies:
Hark! spiritless, sad tramp of toiling feet,
Hoarse hawkers, curses, cries —
Through these I hear the song that the sea sings
To the far meadowlands of Paradise.
O golden-lichened church and red-roofed barn —
O long sweet days —
O changing, unchanged skies, straight dykes all gay
With sedge and water mace —
O fair marsh land desirable and dear —
How far from you lie my life's weary ways!
Yet in my darkest night there shines a star
More fair than day;
There is a flower that blossoms sweet and white
In the sad city way.
That flower blooms not where the wide marshes gleam,
That star shines only when the skies are gray.
For here fair peace and passionate pleasure wane
Before the light
Of radiant dreams that make our lives worth life,
And turn to noon our night:
Soft low songs to her little king,
Nobody else must listen or hear
The pretty secrets I tell my dear.
Sleep, my darling, sleep while you may —
Sorrow dawns with the dawning day,
Sleep, my baby, sleep, my dear,
Soon enough will the day be here.
Lie here quiet on mother's arm,
Safe from harm;
Nestled closely to mother's breast,
Sleep and rest!
Mother feels your breath's soft stir
Close to her;
Mother holds you, clasps you tight,
All the night.
When the little Jesus lay
On the manger's hay,
He was a Baby, if tales tell true,
Just like you.
And He had no crown to wear
But His bright hair;
And such kisses as I give you
He had too.
Mary never loved her Son
More than I love my little one;
And her Baby never smiled
More divinely than my little child.
Sleep, my darling, sleep while you may —
Sorrow dawns with the dawning day;
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my dear,
All too soon will the day be here.
AN EAST-END TRAGEDY
You said that you would never wed:
"My love, my life's one work lie here,
'Mid crowded alleys, dank and drear,
Where all life's flower-petals are shed!"
You said.
I heard: I bowed to what I heard;
I bowed my head and worshipped you —
So brave, so beautiful, so true —
How could I doubt a single word
I heard?
My sweet, white lily! All the street,
As you passed by, grew clean again;
The fallen, blackened souls of men
Looked heavenward when men heard your feet,
My sweet.
But one came, dared to woo, and won —
He heard your vows, and laughed at them;
He plucked my lily from its stem —
Sacred to all men under sun,
But one!
HERE AND THERE
Ah me, how hot and weary here in town
The days crawl by!
How otherwise they go my heart records,
Where the marsh meadows lie
And white sheep crop the grass, and seagulls sail
Between the lovely earth and lovely sky.
Here the sun grins along the dusty street
Beneath pale skies:
Hark! spiritless, sad tramp of toiling feet,
Hoarse hawkers, curses, cries —
Through these I hear the song that the sea sings
To the far meadowlands of Paradise.
O golden-lichened church and red-roofed barn —
O long sweet days —
O changing, unchanged skies, straight dykes all gay
With sedge and water mace —
O fair marsh land desirable and dear —
How far from you lie my life's weary ways!
Yet in my darkest night there shines a star
More fair than day;
There is a flower that blossoms sweet and white
In the sad city way.
That flower blooms not where the wide marshes gleam,
That star shines only when the skies are gray.
For here fair peace and passionate pleasure wane
Before the light
Of radiant dreams that make our lives worth life,
And turn to noon our night:
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