Then spake the Lord Arnaldos, (Well shall you hear his words!) "Tell me for G.o.d's sake, sailor, What song may that song be?"

The sailor spake in answer, And answer thus made he; - "I only tell my song to those Who sail away with me."

WE THAT WERE FRIENDS

We that were friends to-night have found A sudden fear, a secret flame: I am on fire with that soft sound You make, in uttering my name.

Forgive a young and boastful man Whom dreams delight and pa.s.sions please, And love me as great women can Who have no children at their knees.

MY FRIEND

I had a friend who battled for the truth With stubborn heart and obstinate despair, Till all his beauty left him, and his youth, And there were few to love him anywhere.

Then would he wander out among the graves, And think of dead men lying in a row; Or, standing on a cliff observe the waves, And hear the wistful sound of winds below;

And yet they told him nothing. So he sought The twittering forest at the break of day, Or on fantastic mountains shaped a thought As lofty and impenitent as they.

And next he went in wonder through a town Slowly by day and hurriedly by night, And watched men walking up the street and down With timorous and terrible delight.

Weary, he drew man's wisdom from a book, And pondered on the high words spoken of old, Pacing a lamplit room: but soon forsook The golden sentences that left him cold.

After, a woman found him, and his head Lay on her breast, till he forgot his pain In gentle kisses on a midnight bed, And welcomed royal-winged joy again.

When love became a loathing, as it must, He knew not where to turn; and he was wise, Being now old, to sink among the dust, And rest his rebel heart, and close his eyes.

IDEAL

When all my gentle friends had gone I wandered in the night alone: Beneath the green electric glare I saw men pa.s.s with hearts of stone.

Yet still I heard them everywhere, Those golden voices of the air: "Friend, we will go to h.e.l.l with thee, Thy griefs, thy glories we will share, And rule the earth, and bind the sea, And set ten thousand devils free;--"

"What dost thou, stranger, at my side, Thou gaunt old man accosting me?

Away, this is my night of pride!

On lunar seas my boat will glide And I shall know the secret things."

The old man answered: "Woe betide!"

Said I "The world was made for kings: To him who works and working sings Come joy and majesty and power And steadfast love with royal wings."

"O watch these fools that blink and cower,"

Said that wise man: "and every hour A score is born, a dozen dies."

Said I: --"In London fades the flower; But far away the bright blue skies Shall watch my solemn walls arise, And all the glory, all the grace Of earth shall gather there, and eyes Will shine like stars in that new place."

Said he. "Indeed of ancient race Thou comest, with thy hollow scheme.

But sail, O architect of dream, To lands beyond the Ocean stream.

Where are the islands of the blest, And where Atlantis, where Theleme?"

MARY MAGDALEN

O eyes that strip the souls of men!

There came to me the Magdalen.

Her blue robe with a cord was bound, Her hair with Lenten lilies crowned.

"Arise," she said "G.o.d calls for thee, Turned to new paths thy feet must be.

Leave the fever and the feast Leave the friend thou lovest best: For thou must walk in barefoot ways, To give my dear Lord Jesus praise."

Then answered I--"Sweet Magdalen, G.o.d's servant, once beloved of men, Why didst thou change old ways for new, Thy trailing red for corded blue, Roses for lilies on thy brow, Rich splendour for a barren vow?"

Gentle of speech she answered me:- "Sir, I was sick with revelry.

True, I have scarred the night with sin, A pale and tawdry heroine; But once I heard a voice that said 'Who lives in sin is surely dead, But whoso turns to follow me Hath joy and immortality.'"

"O Mary, not for this," I cried, "Didst thou renounce thy scented pride.

Not for a taste of endless years Or barren joy apart from tears Didst thou desert the courts of men.

Tell me thy truth, sweet Magdalen!"

She trembled, and her eyes grew dim:- "For love of Him, for love of Him."

I ROSE FROM DREAMLESS HOURS

I rose from dreamless hours and sought the morn That beat upon my window: from the sill I watched sweet lands, where Autumn light newborn Swayed through the trees and lingered on the hill.

If things so lovely are, why labour still To dream of something more than this I see?

Do I remember tales of Galilee, I who have slain my faith and freed my will?

Let me forget dead faith, dead mystery, Dead thoughts of things I cannot comprehend.

Enough the light mysterious in the tree, Enough the friendship of my chosen friend.

PRAYER

Let me not know how sins and sorrows glide Along the sombre city of our rage, Or why the sons of men are heavy-eyed.

Let me not know, except from printed page, The pain of litter love, of baffled pride, Or sickness shadowing with a long presage.

Let me not know, since happy some have died Quickly in youth or quietly in age, How faint, how loud the bravest hearts have cried.