For no sect elect Is the soul's wine poured And her table decked; Whom should man reject From man's common board?

G.o.ds refuse and choose, Grudge and sell and spare; None shall man refuse, None of all men lose, None leave out of care.

No man's might of sight Knows that hour before; No man's hand hath might To put back that light For one hour the more.

Not though all men call, Kneeling with void hands, Shall they see light fall Till it come for all Tribes of men and lands.

No desire brings fire Down from heaven by prayer, Though man's vain desire Hang faith's wind-struck lyre Out in tuneless air.

One hath breath and saith What the tune shall be - Time, who puts his breath Into life and death, Into earth and sea.

To and fro years flow, Fill their tides and ebb, As his fingers go Weaving to and fro One unfinished web.

All the range of change Hath its bounds therein, All the lives that range All the byways strange Named of death or sin.

Star from far to star Speaks, and white moons wake, Watchful from afar What the night's ways are For the morning's sake.

Many names and flames Pa.s.s and flash and fall, Night-begotten names, And the night reclaims, As she bare them, all.

But the sun is one, And the sun's name Right; And when light is none Saving of the sun, All men shall have light.

All shall see and be Parcel of the morn; Ay, though blind were we, None shall choose but see When that day is born.

A NEW YEAR'S MESSAGE TO JOSEPH MAZZINI

Send the stars light, but send not love to me.

Sh.e.l.ley.

I

Out of the dawning heavens that hear Young wings and feet of the new year Move through their twilight, and shed round Soft showers of sound, Soothing the season with sweet rain, If greeting come to make me fain, What is it I can send again?

2

I know not if the year shall send Tidings to usward as a friend, And salutation, and such things Bear on his wings As the soul turns and thirsts unto With hungering eyes and lips that sue For that sweet food which makes all new.

3

I know not if his light shall be Darkness, or else light verily: I know but that it will not part Heart's faith from heart, Truth from the trust in truth, nor hope From sight of days unscaled that ope Beyond one poor year's horoscope.

4

That faith in love which love's self gives, O master of my spirit, lives, Having in presence unremoved Thine head beloved, The shadow of thee, the semitone Of thy voice heard at heart and known, The light of thee not set nor flown.

5

Seas, lands, and hours, can these divide Love from love's service, side from side, Though no sound pa.s.s nor breath be heard Of one good word?

To send back words of trust to thee Were to send wings to love, when he With his own strong wings covers me.

6

Who shall teach singing to the spheres, Or motion to the flight of years?

Let soul with soul keep hand in hand And understand, As in one same abiding-place We keep one watch for one same face To rise in some short sacred s.p.a.ce.

7

And all s.p.a.ce midway is but nought To keep true heart from faithful thought, As under twilight stars we wait By Time's shut gate Till the slow soundless hinges turn, And through the depth of years that yearn The face of the Republic burn.

1870.

MATER DOLOROSA

Citoyen, lui dit Enjoiras, ma mere, c'est la Republique.

Les Miserables.

Who is this that sits by the way, by the wild wayside, In a rent stained raiment, the robe of a cast-off bride, In the dust, in the rainfall sitting, with soiled feet bare, With the night for a garment upon her, with torn wet hair?

She is fairer of face than the daughters of men, and her eyes, Worn through with her tears, are deep as the depth of skies.

This is she for whose sake being fallen, for whose abject sake, Earth groans in the blackness of darkness, and men's hearts break.

This is she for whose love, having seen her, the men that were Poured life out as water, and shed their souls upon air.

This is she for whose glory their years were counted as foam; Whose face was a light upon Greece, was a fire upon Rome.

Is it now not surely a vain thing, a foolish and vain, To sit down by her, mourn to her, serve her, partake in the pain?

She is grey with the dust of time on his manifold ways, Where her faint feet stumble and falter through year-long days.

Shall she help us at all, O fools, give fruit or give fame, Who herself is a name despised, a rejected name?

We have not served her for guerdon. If any do so, That his mouth may be sweet with such honey, we care not to know.

We have drunk from a wine-unsweetened, a perilous cup, A draught very bitter. The kings of the earth stood up, And the rulers took counsel together, to smite her and slay; And the blood of her wounds is given us to drink today.

Can these bones live? or the leaves that are dead leaves bud?

Or the dead blood drawn from her veins be in your veins blood?

Will ye gather up water again that was drawn and shed?

In the blood is the life of the veins, and her veins are dead.

For the lives that are over are over, and past things past; She had her day, and it is not; was first, and is last.

Is it nothing unto you then, all ye that pa.s.s by, If her breath be left in her lips, if she live now or die?

Behold now, O people, and say if she be not fair, Whom your fathers followed to find her, with praise and prayer, And rejoiced, having found her, though roof they had none nor bread; But ye care not; what is it to you if her day be dead?

It was well with our fathers; their sound was in all men's lands; There was fire in their hearts, and the hunger of fight in their hands.

Naked and strong they went forth in her strength like flame, For her love's and her name's sake of old, her republican name.