BALLADS.
• Rose Mary, Part I . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
• Rose Mary, Part II . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
• Rose Mary, Part III . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
• The White Ship . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
• The King's Tragedy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97

THE HOUSE OF LIFE.

A SONNET-SEQUENCE . ¹
• Introductory Sonnet. . . . . . . . . . . 161
• Part I. Youth and Change.
  • I. Love Enthroned . . . . . . . 163
  • *II. Bridal Birth . . . . . . . . 164
  • *III. Love's Testament . . . . . . . 165
  Transcribed Footnote (page [v]):

  ¹ In this table, the sonnets marked * are those which appeared in the author's
  
  former volume.

  page: vi  
  • *IV. Lovesight . . . . . . . 166
  • V. Heart's Hope . . . . . . . 167
  • *VI. The Kiss . . . . . . . 168
  • *VII. Supreme Surrender. . . . . . 169
  • *VIII. Love's Lover's . . . . . . . 170
  • *IX. Passion and Worship. . . . . 171
  • *X. The Portrait . . . . . . . . 172
  • *XI. The Love-Letter . . . . . . . 173
  • XII. The Lover's Walk . . . . . . . 174
  • XIII. Youth's Antiphony . . . . . . . 175
  • XIV. Youth's Spring-Tribute . . . . . 176
  • *XV. The Birth-Bond . . . . . . . . . 177
  • *XVI. A Day of Love . . . . . . . . . 178
  • XVII. Beauty's Pageant . . . . . . . . 179
  • XVIII. Genius in Beauty . . . . . . . . 180
  • XIX. Silent Noon . . . . . . . . . . 181
  • XX. Gracious Moonlight . . . . . . . 182
  • *XXI. Love-Sweetness . . . . . . . . . 183
  • XXII. Heart's Haven . . . . . . . . . 184
  • *XXIII. Love's Baubles . . . . . . . . . 185
  • XXIV. Pride of Youth . . . . . . . . . 186
  • *XXV. Winged Hours . . . . . . . . . . 187
  • XXVI. Mid-Rapture . . . . . . . . . . 188
  • XXVII. Heart's Compass . . . . . . . . 189
  page: vii  
  • XXVIII. Soul-Light . . . . . . . . . . 190
  • XXIX. The Moonstar . . . . . . . . . 191
  • XXX. Last Fire . . . . . . . . . . . 192
  • XXXI. Her Gifts . . . . . . . . . . . 193
  • XXXII. Equal Troth . . . . . . . . . . 194
  • XXXIII. Venus Victrix . . . . . . . . . 195
  • XXXIV. The Dark Glass . . . . . . . . . 196
  • XXXV. The Lamp's Shrine. . . . . . . . 197
  • *XXXVI. Life-in-Love . . . . . . . . . . 198
  • *XXXVII. The Love-Moon . . . . . . . . . 199
  • *XXXVIII. The Morrow's Message. . . . . . 200
  • *XXXIX. Sleepless Dreams. . . . . . . . 201
  • XL. Severed Selves . . . . . . . . 202
  • XLI. Through Death to Love . . . . . 203
  • XLII. Hope Overtaken . . . . . . . . 204
  • XLIII. Love and Hope . . . . . . . . . 205
  • XLIV. Cloud and Wind . . . . . . . . 206
  • *XLV. Secret Parting . . . . . . . . 207
  • *XLVI. Parted Love . . . . . . . . . . 208
  • *XLVII. Broken Music. . . . . . . . . . 209
  • *XLVIII. Death-in-Love . . . . . . . . . 210
  • *XLIX. Willowwood. . . . . . . . . . . 211
  • *L. Willowwood II . . . . . . . . . 212
  • *LI. Willowwood III. . . . . . . . . 213
  page: viii  
  Note: Printer marks heading of Part II for fixing type.
  Note: The page number for sonnet LXII. (The Choice. II) wrongly appears as 334, not 234.
  • *LII. Willowwood IV . . . . . . . . . 214
  • LIII. Without Her . . . . . . . . . . 215
  • LIV. Love's Fatality . . . . . . . . 216
  • *LV. Stillborn Love . . . . . . . . 217
  • LVI. True Woman. I. Herself. . . . . 218
  • LVII. True Woman. II. Her Love . . . 219
  • LVIII. True Woman. III. Her Heaven . . 220
  • LIX. Love's Last Gift. . . . . . . 221
• Part II. Change and Fate.
  • LX. Transfigured Life. . . . . . . . 222
  • LXI. The Song-Throe . . . . . . . . . 223
  • LXII. The Soul's Sphere. . . . . . . . 224
  • *LXIII. Inclusiveness. . . . . . . . . . 225
  • LXIV. Ardour and Memory. . . . . . . . 226
  • *LXV. Known in Vain. . . . . . . . . . 227
  • LXVI. The Heart of the Night . . . . . 228
  • *LXVII. The Landmark . . . . . . . . . . 229
  • *LXVIII. A Dark Day . . . . . . . . . . . 230
  • *LXIX. Autumn Idleness. . . . . . . . . 231
  • *LXX. The Hill Summit . . . . . . . . 232
  • *LXXI. The Choice. I. . . . . . . . . . 233
  • *LXXII. The Choice. II. . . . . . . . . 334
  page: ix  
  Note: Printer marks line 2 for correction of asterisk placement..
  • *LXXIII. The Choice. III. . . . . . . . . 235
  • LXXIV. Old and New Art. *I. St. Luke the
    
    Painter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
  • LXXV. Old and New Art. II. Not as These . 237
  • LXXVI. Old and New Art. III. The Husband-
    
    men. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
  • *LXXVII. Soul's Beauty. . . . . . . . . . 239
  • *LXXVIII. Body's Beauty. . . . . . . . . . 240
  • *LXXIX. The Monochord . . . . . . . . . . 241
  • LXXX. From Dawn to Noon . . . . . . . . 242
  • LXXXI. Memorial Thresholds . . . . . . . 243
  • *LXXXII. Hoarded Joy . . . . . . . . . . . 244
  • *LXXXIII.Barren Spring . . . . . . . . . . 245
  • *LXXXIV. Farewell to the Glen . . . . . . 246
  • *LXXXV. Vain Virtues. . . . . . . . . . . 247
  • *LXXXVI. Lost Days . . . . . . . . . . . . 248
  • *LXXXVII.Death's Songsters . . . . . . . . 249
  • LXXXVIII.Hero's Lamp . . . . . . . . . . . 250
  • LXXXIX. The Trees of the Garden . . . . . 251
  • *XC. “Retro me, Sathana!”. 252
  • *XCI. Lost on Both Sides . . . . . . . 253
  • XCII. The Sun's Shame. I. . . . . . . . 254
  • XCIII. The Sun's Shame. II.. . . . . . . 255
  • XCIV. Michael Angelo's Kiss . . . . . . . 256
  page: x  
  • *XCV. The Vase of Life . . . . . . . . 257
  • XCVI. Life the Beloved. . . . . . . . . 258
  • *XCVII. A Superscription. . . . . . . . . 259
  • *XCVIII. He and I. . . . . . . . . . . . . 260
  • *XCIX. Newborn Death. I. . . . . . . . . 261
  • *C. Newborn Death. II. . . . . . . . 262
  • *CI. The One Hope. . . . . . . . . . . 263

LYRICS, &c.
• Soothsay . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
• Chimes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
• Parted Presence . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282
• A Death-Parting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 286
• Spheral Change . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
• Sunset Wings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 290
• Song and Music . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
• Three Shadows. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295
• Alas, So Long! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 297
• Adieu . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299
• Insomnia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
• Possession . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303
• The Cloud Confines . . . . . . . . . . . . 304

SONNETS.
• For the Holy Family (by Michael Angelo). . . 311
• For Spring (by Sandro Botticelli) . . . . 312
• Five English Poets—
  • I. Thomas Chatterton . . . . . . . . . . . 313
  • II. William Blake . . . . . . . . . . . . 314
  • III. Samuel Taylor Coleridge . . . . . . . 315
  • IV. John Keats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316
  • V. Percy Bysshe Shelley . . . . . . . . . 317
• Tiber, Nile, and Thames . . . . . . . . . 318
• The Last Three From Trafalgar. . . . . . . 319
• Czar Alexander II . . . . . . . . . . . . 320
• Words on the Window-pane . . . . . . . . . 321
• Winter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322
• Spring . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 323
• The Church-Porch . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324
• Untimely Lost. (Oliver Madox Brown). . . . 325
• Place de la Bastille, Paris . . . . . . . 326
• “Found” (for a Picture). . . 327
• A Sea-Spell (for a Picture) . . . . . . . 328
• Fiammetta (for a Picture). . . . . . . . . 329
page: xii  
• The Day-Dream (for a Picture). . . . . . . 330
• Astarte Syriaca (for a Picture) . . . . . 331
• Proserpina (per un Quadro) . . . . . . . . 332
• Proserpina (for a Picture) . . . . . . . . 333
• La Bella Mano (per un Quadro). . . . . . . 334
• La Bella Mano (for a Picture). . . . . . . 335

       

• “Mary mine that art Mary's Rose,
• Come in to me from the garden-close.
• The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
• And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
• But the hidden stars are calling you.

• “Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
• And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
• In hours whose need was not your own,
• While you were a young maid yet ungrown,
• 10You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.

• “Daughter, once more I bid you read;
• But now let it be for your own need:
• Because to-morrow, at break of day,
• To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
• Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.

• “Ere he wed you, flower of mine,
• For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.
• Now hark to my words and do not fear;
• Ill news next I have for your ear;
• 20But be you strong, and our help is here.

• “On his road, as the rumour's rife,
• An ambush waits to take his life.
• He needs will go, and will go alone;
• Where the peril lurks may not be known;
• But in this glass all things are shown.”

• Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:—
• “The night will come if the day is o'er!”
• “Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star,
• And help shall reach your heart from afar:
• 30A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.”

• The lady unbound her jewelled zone
• And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone.
• Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere,—
• World of our world, the sun's compeer,
• That bears and buries the toiling year.

• With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn
• Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon:
• Freaked it was as the bubble's ball,
• Rainbow-hued through a misty pall ,
• 40Like the middle light of the waterfall.

• Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth
• Of the known and unknown things of earth;
• The cloud above and the wave around,—
• The central fire at the sphere's heart bound,
• Like doomsday prisoned underground.

• A thousand years it lay in the sea
• With a treasure wrecked from Thessaly;
• Deep it lay 'mid the coiled sea-wrack,
• But the ocean-spirits found the track;
• 50A soul was lost to win it back.

• The lady upheld the wondrous thing:—
• “Ill fare”(she said) “with a fiend's-fairing:
• But Moslem blood poured forth like wine
• Can hallow Hell, 'neath the Sacred Sign;
• And my lord brought this from Palestine.

• “Spirits who fear the Blessed Rood
• Drove forth the accursed multitude
• That heathen worship housed herein,—
• Never again such home to win,
• 60Save only by a Christian's sin.

• “All last night at an altar fair
• I burnt strange fires and strove with prayer;
• Till the flame paled to the red sunrise,
• All rites I then did solemnize;
• And the spell lacks nothing but your eyes.”

• Low spake maiden Rose Mary:—
• “O mother mine, if I should not see!”
• “Nay, daughter, cover your face no more,
• But bend love's heart to the hidden lore,
• 70And you shall see now as heretofore.”

• Paler yet were the pale cheeks grown
• As the grey eyes sought the Beryl-stone:
• Then over her mother's lap leaned she,
• And stretched her thrilled throat passionately,
• And sighed from her soul, and said, “I see.”

• Even as she spoke, they two were 'ware
• Of music-notes that fell through the air;
• A chiming shower of strange device,
• Drop echoing drop, once twice and thrice,
• 80As rain may fall in Paradise.

• An instant come, in an instant gone,
• No time there was to think thereon.
• The mother held the sphere on her knee:—
• “Lean this way and speak low to me,
• And take no note but of what you see.”

• “I see a man with a besom grey
• That sweeps the flying dust away.”
• “Ay, that comes first in the mystic sphere;
• But now that the way is swept and clear,
• 90Heed well what next you look on there.”

• “Stretched aloft and adown I see
• Two roads that part in waste-country:
• The glen lies deep and the ridge stands tall;
• What's great below is above seen small,
• And the hill-side is the valley-wall.”

• “Stream-bank, daughter, or moor and moss,
• Both roads will take to Holy Cross.
• The hills are a weary waste to wage;
• But what of the valley-road's presage?
• 100That way must tend his pilgrimage.”

• “As 'twere the turning leaves of a book,
• The road runs past me as I look;
• Or it is even as though mine eye
• Should watch calm waters filled with sky
• While lights and clouds and wings went by. ”

• “In every covert seek a spear;
• They'll scarce lie close till he draws near.”
• “The stream has spread to a river now;
• The stiff blue sedge is deep in the slough,
• 110But the banks are bare of shrub or bough.”

• “Is there any roof that near at hand
• Might shelter yield to a hidden band?”
• “On the further bank I see but one,
• And a herdsman now in the sinking sun
• Unyokes his team at the threshold-stone.”

• “Keep heedful watch by the water's edge,—
• Some boat might lurk 'neath the shadowed sedge.”
• “One slid but now 'twixt the winding shores,
• But a peasant woman bent to the oars
• And only a young child steered its course.

• “Mother, something flashed to my sight—
• Nay, it is but the lapwing's flight.—
• What glints there like a lance that flees?—
• Nay, the flags are stirred in the breeze,
• And the water 's bright through the dart-rushes.

• “Ah! vainly I search from side to side:—
• Woe's me! and where do the foemen hide?
• Woe's me! and perchance I pass them by,
• And under the new dawn's blood-red sky
• 130Even where I gaze the dead shall lie.”

• Said the mother: “For dear love's sake,
• Speak more low, lest the spell should break.”
• Said the daughter: “By love's control,
• My eyes, my words, are strained to the goal;
• But oh! the voice that cries in my soul!”

• “Hush, sweet, hush! be calm and behold.”
• “I see two floodgates broken and old:
• The grasses wave o'er the ruined weir,
• But the bridge still leads to the breakwater;
• 140And—mother, mother, O mother dear!”

• The damsel clung to her mother's knee,
• And dared not let the shriek go free;
• Low she crouched by the lady's chair,
• And shrank blindfold in her fallen hair,
• And whispering said, “The spears are there!”

• The lady stooped aghast from her place,
• And cleared the locks from her daughter's face.
• “More's to see, and she swoons, alas!
• Look, look again, 'ere the moment pass!
• 150One shadow comes but once to the glass.

• “See you there what you saw but now?”
• “I see eight men 'neath the willow bough.
• All over the weir a wild growth's spread:
• Ah me! it will hide a living head
• As well as the water hides the dead.

• “They lie by the broken water-gate
• As men who have a while to wait.
• The chief's high lance has a blazoned scroll,—
• He seems some lord of tithe and toll
• 160With seven squires to his bannerole.

• “The little pennon quakes in the air,
• I cannot trace the blazon there:—
• Ah! now I can see the field of blue,
• The spurs and the merlins two and two;—
• It is the Warden of Holycleugh!”

• “God be thanked for the thing we know!
• You have named your good knight's mortal foe.
• Last Shrovetide in the tourney-game
• He sought his life by treasonous shame;
• 170And this way now doth he seek the same.

• “So, fair lord, such a thing you are!
• But we too watch till the morning star.
• Well, June is kind and the moon is clear:
• Saint Judas send you a merry cheer
• For the night you lie in Warisweir!

• “Now, sweet daughter, but one more sight,
• And you may lie soft and sleep to-night.
• We know in the vale what perils be:
• Now look once more in the glass, and see
• 180If over the hills the road lies free.”

• Rose Mary pressed to her mother's cheek,
• And almost smiled but did not speak;
• Then turned again to the saving spell,
• With eyes to search and with lips to tell
• The heart of things invisible.

• “Again the shape with the besom grey
• Comes back to sweep the clouds away.
• Again I stand where the roads divide;
• But now all's near on the steep hillside,
• 190And a thread far down is the rivertide.”

• “Ay, child, your road is o'er moor and moss,
• Past Holycleugh to Holy Cross.
• Our hunters lurk in the valley's wake,
• As they knew which way the chase would take:
• Yet search the hills for your true love's sake.”

• “Swift and swifter the waste runs by,
• And nought I see but the heath and the sky;
• No brake is there that could hide a spear,
• And the gaps to a horseman's sight lie clear;
• 200Still past it goes, and there's nought to fear.”

• “Fear no trap that you cannot see,—
• They'd not lurk yet too warily.
• Below by the weir they lie in sight,
• And take no heed how they pass the night
• Till close they crouch with the morning light.”

           

• “The road shifts ever and brings in view
• Now first the heights of Holycleugh:
• Dark they stand o'er the vale below,
• And hide that heaven which yet shall show
• 210The thing their master's heart doth know.

• “Where the road looks to the castle steep,
• There are seven hill-clefts wide and deep:
• Six mine eyes can search as they list,
• But the seventh hollow is brimmed with mist;
• If aught were there, it might not be wist.”

• “Small hope, my girl, for a helm to hide
• In mists that cling to a wild moorside:
• Soon they melt with the wind and sun,
• And scarce would wait such deeds to be done:
• 220God send their snares be the worst to shun.”

• “Still the road winds ever anew
• As it hastens on towards Holycleugh;
• And ever the great walls loom more near,
• Till the castle-shadow, steep and sheer,
• Drifts like a cloud, and the sky is clear.”

• “Enough, my daughter,” the mother said,
• And took to her breast the bending head;
• “Rest, poor head, with my heart below,
• While love still lulls you as long ago:
• 230For all is learnt that we need to know.

• “Long the miles and many the hours
• From the castle-height to the abbey-towers;
• But here the journey has no more dread;
• Too thick with life is the whole road spread
• For murder's trembling foot to tread.”

• She gazed on the Beryl-stone full fain
• Ere she wrapped it close in her robe again:
• The flickering shades were dusk and dun,
• And the lights throbbed faint in unison,
• 240Like a high heart when a race is run.

• As the globe slid to its silken gloom,
• Once more a music rained through the room;
• Low it splashed like a sweet star-spray,
• And sobbed like tears at the heart of May,
• And died as laughter dies away.

• The lady held her breath for a space,
• And then she looked in her daughter's face:
• But wan Rose Mary had never heard;
• Deep asleep like a sheltered bird
• 250She lay with the long spell minister'd.

• “Ah! and yet I must leave you, dear,
• For what you have seen your knight must hear.
• Within four days, by the help of God,
• He comes back safe to his heart's abode:
• Be sure he shall shun the valley-road.”

• Rose Mary sank with a broken moan,
• And lay in the chair and slept alone,
• Weary, lifeless, heavy as lead:
• Long it was ere she raised her head
• 260And rose up all discomforted.

• She searched her brain for a vanished thing,
• And clasped her brows, remembering;
• Then knelt and lifted her eyes in awe,
• And sighed with a long sigh sweet to draw:—
• “Thank God, thank God, thank God I saw!”

• The lady had left her as she lay,
• To seek the Knight of Heronhaye.
• But first she clomb by a secret stair,
• And knelt at a carven altar fair,
• 270And laid the precious Beryl there.

• Its girth was graved with a mystic rune
• In a tongue long dead 'neath sun and moon:
• A priest of the Holy Sepulchre
• Read that writing and did not err;
• And her lord had told its sense to her.

• She breathed the words in an undertone:—
• “ None sees here but the pure alone.”
• “And oh!” she said, “what rose may be
• In Mary's bower more pure to see
• 280Than my own sweet maiden Rose Mary?”

 

• We whose home is the Beryl,
• Fire-spirits of dread desire,
• Who entered in
• By a secret sin,
• Gainst whom all powers that strive with ours are
• sterile,—
• We cry, Woe to thee, mother!
• What hast thou taught her, the girl thy daughter,
• That she and none other
• Should this dark morrow to her deadly sorrow imperil?
• 10 What were her eyes
• But the fiend's own spies,
• O mother,
• And shall We not fee her, our proper prophet and seër?
  page: 23  
• Go to her, mother,
• Even thou, yea thou and none other,
• Thou, from the Beryl:
• Her fee must thou take her,
• Her fee that We send, and make her,
• Even in this hour, her sin's unsheltered avower.
• 20 Whose steed did neigh,
• Riderless, bridle-less,
• At her gate before it was day?
• Lo! where doth hover
• The soul of her lover?
• She sealed his doom, she, she was the sworn
• approver,—
• Whose eyes were so wondrous wise,
• Yet blind, ah! blind to his peril!
• For stole not We in
• Through a love-linked sin,
  page: 24  
• 30 'Gainst whom all powers at war with ours are
• sterile,—
• Fire-spirits of dread desire,
• We whose home is the Beryl?

   

• “Pale Rose Mary, what shall be done
• With a rose that Mary weeps upon?”
• “Mother, let it fall from the tree,
• And never walk where the strewn leaves be
• Till winds have passed and the path is free.”

• “Sad Rose Mary, what shall be done
• With a cankered flower beneath the sun?”
• “Mother, let it wait for the night;
• Be sure its shame shall be out of sight
• 10Ere the moon pale or the east grow light.”

• “Lost Rose Mary, what shall be done
• With a heart that is but a broken one?”
• “Mother, let it lie where it must;
• The blood was drained with the bitter thrust,
• And dust is all that sinks in the dust.”

• “Poor Rose Mary, what shall I do,—
• I, your mother, that lovèd you?”
• “O my mother, and is love gone?
• Then seek you another love anon:
• 20Who cares what shame shall lean upon?”

• Low drooped trembling Rose Mary,
• Then up as though in a dream stood she.
• “Come, my heart, it is time to go;
• This is the hour that has whispered low
• When thy pulse quailed in the nights we know.

• “Yet O my heart, thy shame has a mate
• Who will not leave thee desolate.
• Shame for shame, yea and sin for sin:
• Yet peace at length may our poor souls win
• 30If love for love be found therein.

• “O thou who seek'st our shrift to-day,”
• She cried, “O James of Heronhaye—
• Thy sin and mine was for love alone;
• And oh! in the sight of God 'tis known
• How the heart has since made heavy moan.

• “Three days yet!” she said to her heart;
• “But then he comes, and we will not part.
• God, God be thanked that I still could see!
• Oh! he shall come back assuredly,
• 40But where, alas! must he seek for me?

• “O my heart, what road shall we roam
• Till my wedding-music fetch me home?
• For love's shut from us and bides afar,
• And scorn leans over the bitter bar
• And knows us now for the thing we are.”

• Tall she stood with a cheek flushed high
• And a gaze to burn the heart-strings by.
• 'Twas the lightning-flash o'er sky and plain
• Ere labouring thunders heave the chain
• 50From the floodgates of the drowning rain.

• The mother looked on the daughter still
• As on a hurt thing that's yet to kill.
• Then wildly at length the pent tears came;
• The love swelled high with the swollen shame,
• And their hearts' tempest burst on them.

• Closely locked, they clung without speech,
• And the mirrored souls shook each to each,
• As the cloud-moon and the water-moon
• Shake face to face when the dim stars swoon
• 60In stormy bowers of the night's mid-noon.

• They swayed together, shuddering sore,
• Till the mother's heart could bear no more.
• 'Twas death to feel her own breast shake
• Even to the very throb and ache
• Of the burdened heart she still must break.

• All her sobs ceased suddenly,
• And she sat straight up but scarce could see.
• “O daughter, where should my speech begin?
• Your heart held fast its secret sin:
• 70How think you, child, that I read therein?”

• “Ah me! but I thought not how it came
• When your words showed that you knew my shame:
• And now that you call me still your own,
• I half forget you have ever known.
• Did you read my heart in the Beryl-stone?”

• The lady answered her mournfully:—
• “The Beryl-stone has no voice for me:
• But when you charged its power to show
• The truth which none but the pure may know,
• 80Did naught speak once of a coming woe?”

• Her hand was close to her daughter's heart,
• And it felt the life-blood's sudden start:
• A quick deep breath did the damsel draw,
• Like the struck fawn in the oakenshaw:
• “O mother,” she cried, “but still I saw!”

• “O child, my child, why held you apart
• From my great love your hidden heart?
• Said I not that all sin must chase
• From the spell's sphere the spirits of grace,
• 90And yield their rule to the evil race?

• “Ah! would to God I had clearly told
• How strong those powers, accurst of old:
• Their heart is the ruined house of lies;
• O girl, they can seal the sinful eyes,
• Or show the truth by contraries!”

• The daughter sat as cold as a stone,
• And spoke no word but gazed alone,
• Nor moved, though her mother strove a space
• To clasp her round in a close embrace,
• 100Because she dared not see her face.

• “Oh!” at last did the mother cry,
• “Be sure, as he loved you, so will I!
• Ah! still and dumb is the bride, I trow;
• But cold and stark as the winter snow
• Is the bridegroom's heart, laid dead below!

• “Daughter, daughter, remember you
• That cloud in the hills by Holycleugh?
• 'Twas a Hell-screen hiding truth away:
• There, not i' the vale, the ambush lay,
• 110And thence was the dead borne home to-day.”

• Deep the flood and heavy the shock
• When sea meets sea in the riven rock:
• But calm is the pulse that shakes the sea
• To the prisoned tide of doom set free
• In the breaking heart of Rose Mary.

           

• Once she sprang as the heifer springs
• With the wolf's teeth at its red heart-strings:
• First 'twas fire in her breast and brain,
• And then scarce hers but the whole world's pain,
• 120As she gave one shriek and sank again.

• In the hair dark-waved the face lay white
• As the moon lies in the lap of night;
• And as night through which no moon may dart
• Lies on a pool in the woods apart,
• So lay the swoon on the weary heart.

• The lady felt for the bosom's stir,
• And wildly kissed and called on her;
• Then turned away with a quick footfall,
• And slid the secret door in the wall,
• 130And clomb the strait stair's interval.

• There above in the altar-cell
• A little fountain rose and fell:
• She set a flask to the water's flow,
• And, backward hurrying, sprinkled now
• The still cold breast and the pallid brow.

• Scarce cheek that warmed or breath on the air,
• Yet something told that life was there.
• “Ah! not with the heart the body dies!”
• The lady moaned in a bitter wise;
• 140Then wrung her hands and hid her eyes.

• “Alas! and how may I meet again
• In the same poor eyes the self-same pain?
• What help can I seek, such grief to guide?
• Ah! one alone might avail,” she cried,—
• “The priest who prays at the dead man's side.”

• The lady arose, and sped down all
• The winding stairs to the castle-hall.
• Long-known valley and wood and stream,
• As the loopholes passed, naught else did seem
• 150Than the torn threads of a broken dream.

• The hall was full of the castle-folk;
• The women wept, but the men scarce spoke.
• As the lady crossed the rush-strewn floor,
• The throng fell backward, murmuring sore,
• And pressed outside round the open door.

• A stranger shadow hung on the hall
• Than the dark pomp of a funeral.
• 'Mid common sights that were there alway,
• As 'twere a chance of the passing day,
• 160On the ingle-bench the dead man lay.

• A priest who passed by Holycleugh
• The tidings brought when the day was new.
• He guided them who had fetched the dead;
• And since that hour, unwearièd,
• He knelt in prayer at the low bier's head.

• Word had gone to his own domain
• That in evil wise the knight was slain:
• Soon the spears must gather apace
• And the hunt be hard on the hunters' trace;
• 170But all things yet lay still for a space.

• As the lady's hurried step drew near,
• The kneeling priest looked up to her.
• “Father, death is a grievous thing;
• But oh! the woe has a sharper sting
• That craves by me your ministering.

• “Alas for the child that should have wed
• This noble knight here lying dead!
• Dead in hope, with all blessed boon
• Of love thus rent from her heart ere noon,
• 180I left her laid in a heavy swoon.

• “O haste to the open bower-chamber
• That's topmost as you mount the stair:
• Seek her, father, ere yet she wake;
• Your words, not mine, be the first to slake
• This poor heart's fire, for Christ's sweet sake!

• “God speed!” she said as the priest passed through,
• “And I ere long will be with you.”
• Then low on the hearth her knees sank prone;
• She signed all folk from the threshold-stone,
• 190And gazed in the dead man's face alone.

• The fight for life found record yet
• In the clenched lips and the teeth hard-set;
• The wrath from the bent brow was not gone,
• And stark in the eyes the hate still shone
• Of that they last had looked upon.

• The blazoned coat was rent on his breast
• Where the golden field was goodliest;
• But the shivered sword, close-gripped, could tell
• That the blood shed round him where he fell
• 200Was not all his in the distant dell.

• The lady recked of the corpse no whit,
• But saw the soul and spoke to it:
• A light there was in her steadfast eyes,—
• The fire of mortal tears and sighs
• That pity and love immortalize.

• “By thy death have I learnt to-day
• Thy deed, O James of Heronhaye!
• Great wrong thou hast done to me and mine;
• And haply God hath wrought for a sign
• 210By our blind deed this doom of thine.

• “Thy shrift, alas! thou wast not to win;
• But may death shrive thy soul herein!
• Full well do I know thy love should be
• Even yet—had life but stayed with thee—
• Our honour's strong security.”

• She stooped, and said with a sob's low stir,—
• “Peace be thine,—but what peace for her?”
• But ere to the brow her lips were press'd,
• She marked, half-hid in the riven vest,
• 220A packet close to the dead man's breast.

• 'Neath surcoat pierced and broken mail
• It lay on the blood-stained bosom pale.
• The clot clung round it, dull and dense,
• And a faintness seized her mortal sense
• As she reached her hand and drew it thence.

• 'Twas steeped in the heart's flood welling high
• From the heart it there had rested by:
• 'Twas glued to a broidered fragment gay,—
• A shred by spear-thrust rent away
• 230From the heron-wings of Heronhaye.

• She gazed on the thing with piteous eyne:—
• “Alas, poor child, some pledge of thine!
• Ah me! in this troth the hearts were twain,
• And one hath ebbed to this crimson stain,
• And when shall the other throb again?”

• She read it twice, with a brain in thrall,
• And then its echo told her all.
• O'er brows low-fall'n her hands she drew:—
• “O God!” she said, as her hands fell too,—
• 270“The Warden's sister of Holycleugh!”

• She rose upright with a long low moan,
• And stared in the dead man's face new-known.
• Had it lived indeed? She scarce could tell:
• 'Twas a cloud where fiends had come to dwell,—
• A mask that hung on the gate of Hell.

• She lifted the lock of gleaming hair
• And smote the lips and left it there.
• “Here's gold that Hell shall take for thy toll!
• Full well hath thy treason found its goal,
• 280O thou dead body and damnèd soul!”

• She turned, sore dazed, for a voice was near,
• And she knew that some one called to her.
• On many a column fair and tall
• A high court ran round the castle-hall;
• And thence it was that the priest did call.

• “I sought your child where you bade me go,
• And in rooms around and rooms below;
• But where, alas! may the maiden be?
• Fear nought,—we shall find her speedily,—
• 290But come, come hither, and seek with me.”

• She reached the stair like a lifelorn thing,
• But hastened upward murmuring:—
• “Yea, Death's is a face that's fell to see;
• But bitterer pang Life hoards for thee,
• Thou broken heart of Rose Mary!”

 

• We whose throne is the Beryl,
• Dire-gifted spirits of fire,
• Who for a twin
• Leash Sorrow to Sin,
• Who on no flower refrain to lour with peril,—
• We cry,—O desolate daughter!
• Thou and thy mother share newer shame with each
• other
• Than last night's slaughter.
• Awake and tremble, for our curses assemble!
• 10 What more, that thou know'st not yet,—
• That life nor death shall forget?
• No help from Heaven,—thy woes heart-riven are
• sterile!
  page: 46  
• O, once a maiden,
• With yet worse sorrow can any morrow be laden?
• It waits for thee,
• It looms, it must be,
• O lost among women,—
• It comes and thou canst not flee.
• Amen to the omen,
• 20 Says the voice of the Beryl.
• Thou sleep'st? Awake,—
• What dar'st thou yet for his sake,
• Who each for other did God's own Future imperil?
• Dost dare to live
• 'Mid the pangs each hour must give?
• Nay, rather die,—
• With him thy lover 'neath Hell's cloud-cover to fly,—
• Hopeless, yet not apart,
• Cling heart to heart,
page: 47  
Manuscript Addition: I sh d always write mayst—no one says mayest
Editorial Description: WMR's note to line 32 in right margin.
• 30 And beat through the nether storm-eddying winds
• together?
• Shall this be so?
• There thou shalt meet him, but may'st thou greet him?
• ah no!
• He loves, but thee he hoped never more to see,—
• He sighed as he died,
• But with never a thought for thee.
• Alone!
• Alone, for ever alone,—
• Whose eyes were such wondrous spies for the fate
• foreshown!
• Lo! have not We leashed the twin