THALa.s.sIUS

She Gave back to thee kingdom and glory, And grace that was thine of yore, And life to thy leaves, late h.o.a.ry As weeds cast up from the h.o.a.r Sea.

Song Can bid faith shine as the morning Though light in the world be none: Death shrinks if her tongue sound warning, Night quails, and beholds the sun Strong.

PAN

Night Bare rule over men for ages Whose worship wist not of me And gat but sorrows for wages, And hardly for tears could see Light.

Call No more on the starry presence Whose light through the long dark swam: Hold fast to the green world's pleasance: For I that am lord of it am All.

THALa.s.sIUS

G.o.d, G.o.d Pan, from the glad wood's portal The breaths of thy song blow sweet: But woods may be walked in of mortal Man's thought, where never thy feet Trod.

Thine All secrets of growth and of birth are, All glories of flower and of tree, Wheresoever the wonders of earth are; The words of the spell of the sea Mine.

A BALLAD OF BATH

Like a queen enchanted who may not laugh or weep, Glad at heart and guarded from change and care like ours, Girt about with beauty by days and nights that creep Soft as breathless ripples that softly sh.o.r.eward sweep, Lies the lovely city whose grace no grief deflowers.

Age and grey forgetfulness, time that shifts and veers, Touch not thee, our fairest, whose charm no rival nears, Hailed as England's Florence of one whose praise gives grace, Landor, once thy lover, a name that love reveres: Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.

Dawn whereof we know not, and noon whose fruit we reap, Garnered up in record of years that fell like flowers, Sunset liker sunrise along the shining steep Whence thy fair face lightens, and where thy soft springs leap, Crown at once and gird thee with grace of guardian powers Loved of men beloved of us, souls that fame inspheres, All thine air hath music for him who dreams and hears; Voices mixed of mult.i.tudes, feet of friends that pace, Witness why for ever, if heaven's face clouds or clears, Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.

Peace hath here found harbourage mild as very sleep: Not the hills and waters, the fields and wildwood bowers, Smile or speak more tenderly, clothed with peace more deep, Here than memory whispers of days our memories keep Fast with love and laughter and dreams of withered hours.

Bright were these as blossom of old, and thought endears Still the fair soft phantoms that pa.s.s with smiles or tears, Sweet as roseleaves h.o.a.rded and dried wherein we trace Still the soul and spirit of sense that lives and cheers: Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.

City lulled asleep by the chime of pa.s.sing years, Sweeter smiles thy rest than the radiance round thy peers; Only love and lovely remembrance here have place.

Time on thee lies lighter than music on men's ears; Dawn and noon and sunset are one before thy face.

IN A GARDEN

Baby, see the flowers!

--Baby sees Fairer things than these, Fairer though they be than dreams of ours.

Baby, hear the birds!

--Baby knows Better songs than those, Sweeter though they sound than sweetest words.

Baby, see the moon!

--Baby's eyes Laugh to watch it rise, Answering light with love and night with noon.

Baby, hear the sea!

--Baby's face Takes a graver grace, Touched with wonder what the sound may be.

Baby, see the star!

--Baby's hand Opens, warm and bland, Calm in claim of all things fair that are.

Baby, hear the bells!

--Baby's head Bows, as ripe for bed, Now the flowers curl round and close their cells.

Baby, flower of light, Sleep, and see Brighter dreams than we, Till good day shall smile away good night.

A RHYME

Babe, if rhyme be none For that sweet small word Babe, the sweetest one Ever heard,

Right it is and meet Rhyme should keep not true Time with such a sweet Thing as you.

Meet it is that rhyme Should not gain such grace: What is April's prime To your face?

What to yours is May's Rosiest smile? what sound Like your laughter sways All hearts round?

None can tell in metre Fit for ears on earth What sweet star grew sweeter At your birth.

Wisdom doubts what may be: Hope, with smile sublime, Trusts: but neither, baby, Knows the rhyme.

Wisdom lies down lonely; Hope keeps watch from far; None but one seer only Sees the star.

Love alone, with yearning Heart for astrolabe, Takes the star's height, burning O'er the babe.

BABY-BIRD

Baby-bird, baby-bird, Ne'er a song on earth May be heard, may be heard, Rich as yours in mirth.

All your flickering fingers, All your twinkling toes, Play like light that lingers Till the clear song close.

Baby-bird, baby-bird, Your grave majestic eyes Like a bird's warbled words Speak, and sorrow dies.

Sorrow dies for love's sake, Love grows one with mirth, Even for one white dove's sake, Born a babe on earth.