Poems and Ballads (Third Series)
A >> Algernon Charles Swinburne >> Poems and Ballads (Third Series)Poems and Ballads
Third Series
By
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Taken from The Collected Poetical Works of Algernon Charles
Swinburne--Vol. III
THE COLLECTED POETICAL WORKS OF ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
VOL. III
POEMS & BALLADS
(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)
AND
SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES
SWINBURNE'S POETICAL WORKS
I. POEMS AND BALLADS (First Series).
II. SONGS BEFORE SUNRISE, AND SONGS OF TWO NATIONS.
III. POEMS AND BALLADS (Second and Third Series), and SONGS OF THE
SPRINGTIDES.
IV. TRISTRAM OF LYONESSE, THE TALE OF BALEN, ATALANTA IN CALYDON,
ERECHTHEUS.
V. STUDIES IN SONG, A CENTURY OF ROUNDELS, SONNETS ON ENGLISH DRAMATIC
POETS, THE HEPTALOGIA, ETC.
VI. A MIDSUMMER HOLIDAY, ASTROPHEL, A CHANNEL PASSAGE AND OTHER POEMS.
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
POEMS & BALLADS
(SECOND AND THIRD SERIES)
AND
SONGS OF THE SPRINGTIDES
By
Algernon Charles Swinburne
1917
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
_First printed (Chatto), 1904_
_Reprinted 1904, '09, '10, '12_
_(Heinemann), 1917_
_London: William Heinemann, 1917_
POEMS AND BALLADS
THIRD SERIES
PAGE
MARCH: AN ODE 169
THE COMMONWEAL 174
THE ARMADA 187
TO A SEAMEW 211
PAN AND THALASSIUS 215
A BALLAD OF BATH 222
IN A GARDEN 224
A RHYME 226
BABY-BIRD 228
OLIVE 230
A WORD WITH THE WIND 234
NEAP-TIDE 238
BY THE WAYSIDE 241
NIGHT 243
IN TIME OF MOURNING 244
THE INTERPRETERS 245
THE RECALL 248
BY TWILIGHT 249
A BABY'S EPITAPH 250
ON THE DEATH OF SIR HENRY TAYLOR 251
IN MEMORY OF JOHN WILLIAM INCHBOLD 252
NEW YEAR'S DAY 257
TO SIR RICHARD F. BURTON 258
NELL GWYN 259
CALIBAN ON ARIEL 260
THE WEARY WEDDING 261
THE WINDS 270
A LYKE-WAKE SONG 271
A REIVER'S NECK-VERSE 272
THE WITCH-MOTHER 273
THE BRIDE'S TRAGEDY 276
A JACOBITE'S FAREWELL 281
A JACOBITE'S EXILE 282
THE TYNESIDE WIDOW 286
DEDICATION 289
POEMS AND BALLADS
THIRD SERIES
TO
WILLIAM BELL SCOTT
POET AND PAINTER
I DEDICATE THESE POEMS
IN MEMORY OF MANY YEARS
MARCH: AN ODE
1887
I
Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour
of winter had passed out of sight,
The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger than dreams that
fulfil us in sleep with delight;
The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops and
branches that glittered and swayed
Such wonders and glories of blossomlike snow or of frost that
outlightens all flowers till it fade
That the sea was not lovelier than here was the land, nor the night
than the day, nor the day than the night,
Nor the winter sublimer with storm than the spring: such mirth had
the madness and might in thee made,
March, master of winds, bright minstrel and marshal of storms that
enkindle the season they smite.
II
And now that the rage of thy rapture is satiate with revel and
ravin and spoil of the snow,
And the branches it brightened are broken, and shattered the
tree-tops that only thy wrath could lay low,
How should not thy lovers rejoice in thee, leader and lord of the
year that exults to be born
So strong in thy strength and so glad of thy gladness whose
laughter puts winter and sorrow to scorn?
Thou hast shaken the snows from thy wings, and the frost on thy
forehead is molten: thy lips are aglow
As a lover's that kindle with kissing, and earth, with her raiment
and tresses yet wasted and torn,
Takes breath as she smiles in the grasp of thy passion to feel
through her spirit the sense of thee flow.
III
Fain, fain would we see but again for an hour what the wind and the
sun have dispelled and consumed,
Those full deep swan-soft feathers of snow with whose luminous
burden the branches implumed
Hung heavily, curved as a half-bent bow, and fledged not as birds
are, but petalled as flowers,
Each tree-top and branchlet a pinnacle jewelled and carved, or a
fountain that shines as it showers,
But fixed as a fountain is fixed not, and wrought not to last till
by time or by tempest entombed,
As a pinnacle carven and gilded of men: for the date of its doom is
no more than an hour's,
One hour of the sun's when the warm wind wakes him to wither the
snow-flowers that froze as they bloomed.
IV
As the sunshine quenches the snowshine; as April subdues thee, and
yields up his kingdom to May;
So time overcomes the regret that is born of delight as it passes
in passion away,
And leaves but a dream for desire to rejoice in or mourn for with
tears or thanksgivings; but thou,
Bright god that art gone from us, maddest and gladdest of months,
to what goal hast thou gone from us now?
For somewhere surely the storm of thy laughter that lightens, the
beat of thy wings that play,
Must flame as a fire through the world, and the heavens that we
know not rejoice in thee: surely thy brow
Hath lost not its radiance of empire, thy spirit the joy that
impelled it on quest as for prey.
V
Are thy feet on the ways of the limitless waters, thy wings on the
winds of the waste north sea?
Are the fires of the false north dawn over heavens where summer is
stormful and strong like thee
Now bright in the sight of thine eyes? are the bastions of icebergs
assailed by the blast of thy breath?
Is it March with the wild north world when April is waning? the
word that the changed year saith,
Is it echoed to northward with rapture of passion reiterate from
spirits triumphant as we
Whose hearts were uplift at the blast of thy clarions as men's
rearisen from a sleep that was death
And kindled to life that was one with the world's and with thine?
hast thou set not the whole world free?
VI
For the breath of thy lips is freedom, and freedom's the sense of
thy spirit, the sound of thy song,
Glad god of the north-east wind, whose heart is as high as the
hands of thy kingdom are strong,
Thy kingdom whose empire is terror and joy, twin-featured and
fruitful of births divine,
Days lit with the flame of the lamps of the flowers, and nights
that are drunken with dew for wine,
And sleep not for joy of the stars that deepen and quicken, a
denser and fierier throng,
And the world that thy breath bade whiten and tremble rejoices at
heart as they strengthen and shine,
And earth gives thanks for the glory bequeathed her, and knows of
thy reign that it wrought not wrong.
VII
Thy spirit is quenched not, albeit we behold not thy face in the
crown of the steep sky's arch,
And the bold first buds of the whin wax golden, and witness arise
of the thorn and the larch:
Wild April, enkindled to laughter and storm by the kiss of the
wildest of winds that blow,
Calls loud on his brother for witness; his hands that were laden
with blossom are sprinkled with snow,
And his lips breathe winter, and laugh, and relent; and the live
woods feel not the frost's flame parch;
For the flame of the spring that consumes not but quickens is felt
at the heart of the forest aglow,
And the sparks that enkindled and fed it were strewn from the hands
of the gods of the winds of March.
THE COMMONWEAL
1887
I
Eight hundred years and twenty-one
Have shone and sunken since the land
Whose name is freedom bore such brand
As marks a captive, and the sun
Beheld her fettered hand.
II
But ere dark time had shed as rain
Or sown on sterile earth as seed
That bears no fruit save tare and weed
An age and half an age again,
She rose on Runnymede.
III
Out of the shadow, starlike still,
She rose up radiant in her right,
And spake, and put to fear and flight
The lawless rule of awless will
That pleads no right save might.
IV
Nor since hath England ever borne
The burden laid on subject lands,
The rule that curbs and binds all hands
Save one, and marks for servile scorn
The heads it bows and brands.
V
A commonweal arrayed and crowned
With gold and purple, girt with steel
At need, that foes must fear or feel,
We find her, as our fathers found,
Earth's lordliest commonweal.
VI
And now that fifty years are flown
Since in a maiden's hand the sign
Of empire that no seas confine
First as a star to seaward shone,
We see their record shine.
VII
A troubled record, foul and fair,
A simple record and serene,
Inscribes for praise a blameless queen,
For praise and blame an age of care
And change and ends unseen.
VIII
Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing,
Rose with the sundawn of a reign
Whose grace should make the rough ways plain,
And fill the worn old world with spring,
And heal its heart of pain.
IX
Peace was to be on earth; men's hope
Was holier than their fathers had,
Their wisdom not more wise than glad:
They saw the gates of promise ope,
And heard what love's lips bade.
X
Love armed with knowledge, winged and wise,
Should hush the wind of war, and see,
They said, the sun of days to be
Bring round beneath serener skies
A stormless jubilee.
XI
Time, in the darkness unbeholden
That hides him from the sight of fear
And lets but dreaming hope draw near,
Smiled and was sad to hear such golden
Strains hail the all-golden year.
XII
Strange clouds have risen between, and wild
Red stars of storm that lit the abyss
Wherein fierce fraud and violence kiss
And mock such promise as beguiled
The fiftieth year from this.
XIII
War upon war, change after change,
Hath shaken thrones and towers to dust,
And hopes austere and faiths august
Have watched in patience stern and strange
Men's works unjust and just.
XIV
As from some Alpine watch-tower's portal
Night, living yet, looks forth for dawn,
So from time's mistier mountain lawn
The spirit of man, in trust immortal,
Yearns toward a hope withdrawn.
XV
The morning comes not, yet the night
Wanes, and men's eyes win strength to see
Where twilight is, where light shall be
When conquered wrong and conquering right
Acclaim a world set free.
XVI
Calm as our mother-land, the mother
Of faith and freedom, pure and wise,
Keeps watch beneath unchangeful skies,
When hath she watched the woes of other
Strange lands with alien eyes?
XVII
Calm as she stands alone, what nation
Hath lacked an alms from English hands?
What exiles from what stricken lands
Have lacked the shelter of the station
Where higher than all she stands?
XVIII
Though time discrown and change dismantle
The pride of thrones and towers that frown,
How should they bring her glories down--
The sea cast round her like a mantle,
The sea-cloud like a crown?
XIX
The sea, divine as heaven and deathless,
Is hers, and none but only she
Hath learnt the sea's word, none but we
Her children hear in heart the breathless
Bright watchword of the sea.
XX
Heard not of others, or misheard
Of many a land for many a year,
The watchword Freedom fails not here
Of hearts that witness if the word
Find faith in England's ear.
XXI
She, first to love the light, and daughter
Incarnate of the northern dawn,
She, round whose feet the wild waves fawn
When all their wrath of warring water
Sounds like a babe's breath drawn,
XXII
How should not she best know, love best,
And best of all souls understand
The very soul of freedom, scanned
Far off, sought out in darkling quest
By men at heart unmanned?
XXIII
They climb and fall, ensnared, enshrouded,
By mists of words and toils they set
To take themselves, till fierce regret
Grows mad with shame, and all their clouded
Red skies hang sunless yet.
XXIV
But us the sun, not wholly risen
Nor equal now for all, illumes
With more of light than cloud that looms;
Of light that leads forth souls from prison
And breaks the seals of tombs.
XXV
Did not her breasts who reared us rear
Him who took heaven in hand, and weighed
Bright world with world in balance laid?
What Newton's might could make not clear
Hath Darwin's might not made?
XXVI
The forces of the dark dissolve,
The doorways of the dark are broken:
The word that casts out night is spoken,
And whence the springs of things evolve
Light born of night bears token.
XXVII
She, loving light for light's sake only,
And truth for only truth's, and song
For song's sake and the sea's, how long
Hath she not borne the world her lonely
Witness of right and wrong?
XXVIII
From light to light her eyes imperial
Turn, and require the further light,
More perfect than the sun's in sight,
Till star and sun seem all funereal
Lamps of the vaulted night.
XXIX
She gazes till the strenuous soul
Within the rapture of her eyes
Creates or bids awake, arise,
The light she looks for, pure and whole
And worshipped of the wise.
XXX
Such sons are hers, such radiant hands
Have borne abroad her lamp of old,
Such mouths of honey-dropping gold
Have sent across all seas and lands
Her fame as music rolled.
XXXI
As music made of rolling thunder
That hurls through heaven its heart sublime,
Its heart of joy, in charging chime,
So ring the songs that round and under
Her temple surge and climb.
XXXII
A temple not by men's hands builded,
But moulded of the spirit, and wrought
Of passion and imperious thought;
With light beyond all sunlight gilded,
Whereby the sun seems nought.
XXXIII
Thy shrine, our mother, seen for fairer
Than even thy natural face, made fair
With kisses of thine April air
Even now, when spring thy banner-bearer
Took up thy sign to bear;
XXXIV
Thine annual sign from heaven's own arch
Given of the sun's hand into thine,
To rear and cheer each wildwood shrine
But now laid waste by wild-winged March,
March, mad with wind like wine.
XXXV
From all thy brightening downs whereon
The windy seaward whin-flower shows
Blossom whose pride strikes pale the rose
Forth is the golden watchword gone
Whereat the world's face glows.
XXXVI
Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring
Till earth seems glorious as the sea:
With yearning love too glad for glee
The world's heart quivers toward the spring
As all our hearts toward thee.
XXXVII
Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest
Assurance to the heavens most high
And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh
That by the sea's grace while thou livest
Hope shall not wholly die.
XXXVIII
That while thy free folk hold the van
Of all men, and the sea-spray shed
As dew more heavenly on thy head
Keeps bright thy face in sight of man,
Man's pride shall drop not dead.
XXXIX
A pride more pure than humblest prayer,
More wise than wisdom born of doubt,
Girds for thy sake men's hearts about
With trust and triumph that despair
And fear may cast not out.
XL
Despair may wring men's hearts, and fear
Bow down their heads to kiss the dust,
Where patriot memories rot and rust,
And change makes faint a nation's cheer,
And faith yields up her trust.
XLI
Not here this year have true men known,
Not here this year may true men know,
That brand of shame-compelling woe
Which bids but brave men shrink or groan
And lays but honour low.
XLII
The strong spring wind blows notes of praise,
And hallowing pride of heart, and cheer
Unchanging, toward all true men here
Who hold the trust of ancient days
High as of old this year.
XLIII
The days that made thee great are dead;
The days that now must keep thee great
Lie not in keeping of thy fate;
In thine they lie, whose heart and head
Sustain thy charge of state.
XLIV
No state so proud, no pride so just,
The sun, through clouds at sunrise curled
Or clouds across the sunset whirled,
Hath sight of, nor has man such trust
As thine in all the world.
XLV
Each hour that sees the sunset's crest
Make bright thy shores ere day decline
Sees dawn the sun on shores of thine,
Sees west as east and east as west
On thee their sovereign shine.
XLVI
The sea's own heart must needs wax proud
To have borne the world a child like thee.
What birth of earth might ever be
Thy sister? Time, a wandering cloud,
Is sunshine on thy sea.
XLVII
Change mars not her; and thee, our mother,
What change that irks or moves thee mars?
What shock that shakes? what chance that jars?
Time gave thee, as he gave none other,
A station like a star's.
XLVIII
The storm that shrieks, the wind that wages
War with the wings of hopes that climb
Too high toward heaven in doubt sublime,
Assail not thee, approved of ages
The towering crown of time.
XLIX
Toward thee this year thy children turning
With souls uplift of changeless cheer
Salute with love that casts out fear,
With hearts for beacons round thee burning,
The token of this year.
L
With just and sacred jubilation
Let earth sound answer to the sea
For witness, blown on winds as free,
How England, how her crowning nation,
Acclaims this jubilee.
THE ARMADA
1588: 1888
I
I
England, mother born of seamen, daughter fostered of the sea,
Mother more beloved than all who bear not all their children free,
Reared and nursed and crowned and cherished by the sea-wind and
the sun,
Sweetest land and strongest, face most fair and mightiest heart
in one,
Stands not higher than when the centuries known of earth were less
by three,
When the strength that struck the whole world pale fell back from
hers undone.
II
At her feet were the heads of her foes bowed down, and the
strengths of the storm of them stayed,
And the hearts that were touched not with mercy with terror were
touched and amazed and affrayed:
Yea, hearts that had never been molten with pity were molten with
fear as with flame,
And the priests of the Godhead whose temple is hell, and his heart
is of iron and fire,
And the swordsmen that served and the seamen that sped them, whom
peril could tame not or tire,
Were as foam on the winds of the waters of England which tempest
can tire not or tame.
III
They were girded about with thunder, and lightning came forth of
the rage of their strength,
And the measure that measures the wings of the storm was the
breadth of their force and the length:
And the name of their might was Invincible, covered and clothed
with the terror of God;
With his wrath were they winged, with his love were they fired,
with the speed of his winds were they shod;
With his soul were they filled, in his trust were they comforted:
grace was upon them as night,
And faith as the blackness of darkness: the fume of their balefires
was fair in his sight,
The reek of them sweet as a savour of myrrh in his nostrils: the
world that he made,
Theirs was it by gift of his servants: the wind, if they spake in
his name, was afraid,
And the sun was a shadow before it, the stars were astonished with
fear of it: fire
Went up to them, fed with men living, and lit of men's hands for a
shrine or a pyre;
And the east and the west wind scattered their ashes abroad, that
his name should be blest
Of the tribes of the chosen whose blessings are curses from
uttermost east unto west.
II
I
Hell for Spain, and heaven for England,--God to God, and man to
man,--
Met confronted, light with darkness, life with death: since time
began,
Never earth nor sea beheld so great a stake before them set,
Save when Athens hurled back Asia from the lists wherein they
met;
Never since the sands of ages through the glass of history ran
Saw the sun in heaven a lordlier day than this that lights us
yet.
II
For the light that abides upon England, the glory that rests on her
godlike name,
The pride that is love and the love that is faith, a perfume
dissolved in flame,
Took fire from the dawn of the fierce July when fleets were
scattered as foam
And squadrons as flakes of spray; when galleon and galliass that
shadowed the sea
Were swept from her waves like shadows that pass with the clouds
they fell from, and she
Laughed loud to the wind as it gave to her keeping the glories of
Spain and Rome.
III
Three hundred summers have fallen as leaves by the storms in their
season thinned,
Since northward the war-ships of Spain came sheer up the way of the
south-west wind:
Where the citadel cliffs of England are flanked with bastions of
serpentine,
Far off to the windward loomed their hulls, an hundred and
twenty-nine,
All filled full of the war, full-fraught with battle and charged
with bale;
Then store-ships weighted with cannon; and all were an hundred and
fifty sail.
The measureless menace of darkness anhungered with hope to prevail
upon light,
The shadow of death made substance, the present and visible spirit
of night,
Came, shaped as a waxing or waning moon that rose with the fall of
day,
To the channel where couches the Lion in guard of the gate of the
lustrous bay.
Fair England, sweet as the sea that shields her, and pure as the
sea from stain,
Smiled, hearing hardly for scorn that stirred her the menace of
saintly Spain.
III
I
"They that ride over ocean wide with hempen bridle and horse of
tree,"
How shall they in the darkening day of wrath and anguish and fear
go free?
How shall these that have curbed the seas not feel his bridle who
made the sea?