Oh! to be alone!

To escape from the work, the play, The talking, everyday; To escape from all I have done, And all that remains to do.

To escape, yes, even from you, My only love, and be Alone, and free.

Could I only stand Between gray moor and gray sky Where the winds and the plovers cry, And no man is at hand.

And feel the free wind blow On my rain-wet face, and know I am free--not yours--but my own.

Free--and alone!

For the soft fire-light And the home of your heart, my dear, They hurt--being always here.

I want to stand up--upright And to cool my eyes in the air And to see how my back can bear Burdens--to try, to know, To learn, to grow!

I am only you!

I am yours--part of you--your wife!

And I have no other life.

I cannot think, cannot do, I cannot breathe, cannot see; There is "us," but there is not "me"-- And worst, at your kiss, I grow Contented so.

THE LIGHTHOUSE.

Above the rocks, above the waves Shines the strong light that warns and saves.

So you, too high for storm or strife, Light up the shipwreck of my life.

The lighthouse warns the wise, but these Not only sail the stormy seas; Towards the light the foolish steer And, drowning, read its meaning, dear.

And, if the lamp by chance allure Some foolish ship to death, be sure The lamp will to itself protest: "His be the blame! I did my best!"

TO A YOUNG POET.

Tired of work? Then drop away From the land of cheerful day!

Pen the muse, and drive the pen If you'd stay with living men.

Fancy fails? Then pluck from those Gardens where her blossom blows; Trim the buds and wire them well, And your bouquet's sure to sell.

Write, write, write! Produce, produce!

Write for sale, and not for use.

This is a commercial age!

Write! and fill your ledger page.

If your soul should droop and die, Bury it with undimmed eye.

Never mind what memory says-- Soul's a thing that never pays!

THE TEMPTATION.

Let me go! I cannot be All you think me, pure and true: Those brave jewel-names crown you, They were trampled down by me.

Horrid ghosts rise up between You and me; I dare not pa.s.s!

What might be is dead; what was Is its poison, O my Queen!

I should wither up your life, Blacken, blight its maiden flower; You would live to curse the hour When you made yourself my wife.

Yet, your hand held out, your eyes Pleading, longing, brimmed with tears ...

I have lived in h.e.l.l for years: Do not show me Paradise.

Lest I answer: "Take me, then!

Take me, save me if you can, Worse than any other man, Loving more than other men."

THE BALLAD OF SIR HUGH.

The castle had been held in siege, While thrice three weeks went past, And still the foe no vantage gained And still our men stood fast.

We held the castle for our king Against our foes and his; Stout was our heart, as man's must be In such brave cause as this.

But Sir Hugh walked the castle wall, And oh! his heart was sore, For the foe held fast the only son His dead wife ever bore.

The castle gates were firm and fast, Strong was the castle wall, Yet bore Sir Hugh an aching heart For the thing that might befal.

He looked out to the pearly east, Ere day began to break: "G.o.d save my boy till evensong,"

He said, "for Mary's sake!"

He looked out on the western sky When the sun sank, blood-red: "G.o.d keep my son till morning light For His son's sake," he said.

And morn and eve, and noon and night, His heart one prayer did make: "G.o.d keep my boy, my little one, For his dear dead mother's sake!"

At last, worn out with bootless siege-- Our walls being tall and stout-- The rebel captain neared our gates With a flag of truce held out.

"A word, Sir Hugh, a word with you, Ere yet it be too late; We have a prisoner and would know What is to be his fate.

"Yield up your castle, or he dies!

'Tis thus the bargain stands: His body in our hands we hold, His life is in your hands!"

Sir Hugh looked down across the moat And, in the sunlight fair, He saw the child's blue, frightened eyes And tangled golden hair.

He saw the little arms held out; The little voice rang thin: "O father dear, undo the gates!