Nay, but not these! not these! Even though apace,
Long rank on rank, with swift yet stately tread
They came to meet thee—the immortal dead—
Yet Love ran faster! All the lofty place,
All the wide, luminous, enchanted space
Glistened with Shining Ones who thither sped—
The countless host thy song had comforted!
What light, what love illumed each radiant face!
The Rachels thou hadst sung to in the dark,
The Davids who for Absaloms had wept,
The fainting ones who drank thy balm and wine,
High souls that soared with thee as soars the lark,
Children who named thee, smiling, ere they slept—
These gave thee first the heavenly countersign!
SHAKESPEARE
(April 23, 1664-1889)
Nay, Master, dare we speak? O mighty shade,
Sitting enthroned where awful splendors are,
Beyond the light of sun, or moon, or star,
How shall we breathe thy high name undismayed?
Poet, in royal majesty arrayed,
Walking with mute gods through the realms afar—
Seer, whose wide vision time nor death can bar,
We would but kiss thy feet, abashed, afraid!
But yet we love thee, and great love is bold.
Love, O our master, with his heart of flame
And eye of fire, dares even to look on thee,
For whom the ages lift their gates of gold;
And his glad tongue shall syllable thy name
Till time is lost in God’s unsounded sea!
TO E. C. S.
WITH A ROSE FROM CONWAY CASTLE
On hoary Conway’s battlemented height,
O poet-heart, I pluck for thee a rose!
Through arch and court the sweet wind wandering goes;
Round each high tower the rooks, in airy flight,
Circle and wheel, all bathed in amber light;
Low at my feet the winding river flows;
Valley and town, entranced in deep repose,
War doth no more appall, nor foes affright!
Thou knowest how softly on the castle walls,
Where mosses creep, and ivys far and free
Fling forth their pennants to the freshening breeze,
Like God’s own benizon this sunshine falls.
Therefore, O friend, across the sundering seas
Fair Conway sends this sweet wild rose to thee!