Hours that strut as the heirs of time, Deeds whose rumour's a clarion-call, Songs where the singers their souls sublime - Youth is the sign of them, one and all.

A staff that rests in a nook of wall, A reeling battle, a rusted gage, The chant of a nearing funeral - These are a type of the world of Age.

Envoy

Struggle and turmoil, revel and brawl - Youth is the sign of them, one and all.

A smouldering hearth and a silent stage - These are a type of the world of Age.

BALLADE (DOUBLE REFRAIN) OF MIDSUMMER DAYS AND NIGHTS--To W. H.

With a ripple of leaves and a tinkle of streams The full world rolls in a rhythm of praise, And the winds are one with the clouds and beams - Midsummer days! Midsummer days!

The dusk grows vast; in a purple haze, While the West from a rapture of sunset rights, Faint stars their exquisite lamps upraise - Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!

The wood's green heart is a nest of dreams, The lush gra.s.s thickens and springs and sways, The rathe wheat rustles, the landscape gleams - Midsummer days! Midsummer days!

In the stilly fields, in the stilly ways, All secret shadows and mystic lights, Late lovers murmur and linger and gaze - Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!

There's a music of bells from the trampling teams, Wild skylarks hover, the gorses blaze, The rich, ripe rose as with incense steams - Midsummer days! Midsummer days!

A soul from the honeysuckle strays, And the nightingale as from prophet heights Sings to the Earth of her million Mays - Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!

Envoy

And it's O, for my dear and the charm that stays - Midsummer days! Midsummer days!

It's O, for my Love and the dark that plights - Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!

BALLADE OF DEAD ACTORS--I. M. Edward John Henley (1861-1898)

Where are the pa.s.sions they essayed, And where the tears they made to flow?

Where the wild humours they portrayed For laughing worlds to see and know?

Oth.e.l.lo's wrath and Juliet's woe?

Sir Peter's whims and Timon's gall?

And Millamant and Romeo?

Into the night go one and all.

Where are the braveries, fresh or frayed?

The plumes, the armours--friend and foe?

The cloth of gold, the rare brocade, The mantles glittering to and fro?

The pomp, the pride, the royal show?

The cries of war and festival?

The youth, the grace, the charm, the glow?

Into the night go one and all.

The curtain falls, the play is played: The Beggar packs beside the Beau; The Monarch troops, and troops the Maid; The Thunder huddles with the Snow.

Where are the revellers high and low?

The clashing swords? The lover's call?

The dancers gleaming row on row?

Into the night go one and all.

Envoy

Prince, in one common overthrow The Hero tumbles with the Thrall: As dust that drives, as straws that blow, Into the night go one and all.

BALLADE MADE IN THE HOT WEATHER--To C. M.

Fountains that frisk and sprinkle The moss they overspill; Pools that the breezes crinkle; The wheel beside the mill, With its wet, weedy frill; Wind-shadows in the wheat; A water-cart in the street; The fringe of foam that girds An islet's ferneries; A green sky's minor thirds - To live, I think of these!

Of ice and gla.s.s the tinkle, Pellucid, silver-shrill; Peaches without a wrinkle; Cherries and snow at will, From china bowls that fill The senses with a sweet Incuriousness of heat; A melon's dripping sherds; Cream-clotted strawberries; Dusk dairies set with curds - To live, I think of these!

Vale-lily and periwinkle; Wet stone-crop on the sill; The look of leaves a-twinkle With windlets clear and still; The feel of a forest rill That wimples fresh and fleet About one's naked feet; The muzzles of drinking herds; Lush flags and bulrushes; The chirp of rain-bound birds - To live, I think of these!

Envoy

Dark aisles, new packs of cards, Mermaidens' tails, cool swards, Dawn dews and starlit seas, White marbles, whiter words - To live, I think of these!

BALLADE OF TRUISMS

Gold or silver, every day, Dies to gray.

There are knots in every skein.

Hours of work and hours of play Fade away Into one immense Inane.

Shadow and substance, chaff and grain, Are as vain As the foam or as the spray.

Life goes crooning, faint and fain, One refrain: 'If it could be always May!'

Though the earth be green and gay, Though, they say, Man the cup of heaven may drain; Though, his little world to sway, He display h.o.a.rd on h.o.a.rd of pith and brain: Autumn brings a mist and rain That constrain

Him and his to know decay, Where undimmed the lights that wane Would remain, If it could be always May.

YEA, alas, must turn to NAY, Flesh to clay.

Chance and Time are ever twain.

Men may scoff, and men may pray, But they pay Every pleasure with a pain.

Life may soar, and Fortune deign To explain Where her prizes hide and stay; But we lack the l.u.s.ty train We should gain, If it could be always May.

Envoy

Time, the pedagogue, his cane Might retain, But his charges all would stray Truanting in every lane - Jack with Jane - If it could be always May.