A touch of their office might have sufficed, But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ. III. See, there is one of us sobbing, And another, a lord of all things, praying And wheedle a world that loves him not, In an ancient mansion's crannies and holes: Arsenic, arsenic, sure, would do it, Except that now we poison our babes, poor souls! It is all used up for that. VII. Tell him now: she is standing here at my Not beautiful now, not even kind; But is ever the one thing silent here. She comes from another stiller world of Stiller, not fairer than mine. VIII. But I know where a garden grows, That blow by night, when the season is To the sound of dancing music and flutes: For the keeper was one, so full of pride, For he, if he had not been a Sultan of brutes, Would he have that hole in his side? IX. But what will the old man say? To catch a friend of mine one stormy day; Yet now I could even weep to think For what will the old man say? X. Friend, to be struck by the public foe, I swear to you, lawful and lawless war XI. O me, why have they not buried me deep enough? Is it kind to have made me a grave so Me, that was never a quiet sleeper? I will cry to the steps above my head To bury me, bury me Deeper, ever so little deeper. PART III. VI. I. My life has crept so long on a broken wing That like a silent lightning under the stars She seem'd to divide in a dream from a band of the blest, And spoke of a hope for the world in the coming wars — II. And it was but a dream, yet it yielded a dear delight When I thought that a war would arise in defence of the right, III. And as months ran on and rumour of battle grew, That old hysterical mock-disease should die.' Till I saw the dreary phantom arise and fly Far into the North, and battle, and seas of death. IV. Let it go or stay, so I wake to the higher aims Of a land that has lost for a little her lust of gold, And hail once more to the banner of battle unroll'd! And the heart of a people beat with one desire; For the peace, that I deem'd no peace, is over and done, V. Let it flame or fade, and the war roll down like a wind, Which shone so close beside Thee that ye made One light together, but has past and leaves The Crown a lonely splendour. May all love, His love, unseen but felt, o'ershadow Thee, The love of all Thy sons encompass Thee, The love of all Thy daughters cherish Thee, The love of all Thy people comfort Thee, Till God's love set Thee at his side again! THE COMING OF ARTHUR. LEODOGRAN, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none other child; And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her his one delight. For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war Each upon other, wasted all the land; And still from time to time the heathen host Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was left. And so there grew great tracts of wilderness, Wherein the beast was ever more and more, But man was less and less, till Arthur came. For first Aurelius lived and fought and died, And after him King Uther fought and died, But either fail'd to make the kingdom one. And after these King Arthur for a space, And thro' the puissance of his Table Round, Drew all their petty princedoms under him, Their king and head, and made a realm, and reign'd. And thus the land of Cameliard was waste, Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein, And none or few to scare or chase the beast; So that wild dog, and wolf and boar and bear Came night and day, and rooted in the fields, And wallow'd in the gardens of the King. And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour, but now and then, Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat To human sucklings; and the children, housed In her foul den, there at their meat would growl, And mock their foster-mother on four feet, Till, straighten'd, they grew up to wolflike men, Worse than the wolves. And King Leodogran Groan'd for the Roman legions here |