Albion Fellows Bacon

“ ACROSS the stubble fields the lazy breezes pass,
From Autumn orchards sloping southward in the sun,
Where dropping from the low-hung branches, one by one,
The apples hide in tangles of the wind-blown grass.
A warm, sweet scent of mellow fruit fills all the air,
And faintly over hills and hollows comes the cry
Of some shrill bluejay, and his mate's far-off reply.
Like Ruth, the winds will go a-gleaning, by and by,
And garner in the leaves till all the woods are bare. ”

“ Now as I sit and gaze at the dream on the canvas caught,
Sadly the thought comes back, to torture with unbelief—
Why must it always be that the strong white light of love
Is followed forevermore by the deepest shadow of grief? ”

“ One note alone can startle the voices of the peaks,
And waken songs of Erin, whene'er the bugle speaks.
They call and call and call,
Until the voices all
Ring down the dusky hollows and in the distance fall.
Methinks, like Purple Mountain, the past will sometimes rise,
And memory's call awaken its echoing replies.
Within the tower of Shandon again the bells will sway,
And follow, with their ringing, the Lee upon its way,
And chime and chime and chime,
Where ivy tendrils climb,
[48] Till bells and river mingle to sound the silvery rhyme. ”

“ WE cannot sing of life, whose years are brief,
Nor sad heart-stories tell, who know no grief,
Nor write of shipwrecks on the seas of Fate,
Whose ship from out the harbor sailed but late.
But we may sing of fair and sunny days,
Of Love that walks in peace through quiet ways ”

“ Where childhood merges backward into night?
I know not, but the halo of those tapers
Has ever since around all nature shone;
And we have looked at life through golden vapors
Because of that one ember touch alone. ”

“ CHILDHOOD flits by with flowers in both its hands,—
We know not why it leaves, nor when it goes;
But suddenly we miss some subtle grace,
As perfume passes from a fading rose;
We scarce divine, yet somehow faintly feel
In the soft air a far-blown breath of snows. ”

“ So darkness drops between the days, an interlude
When night's low sighing stirs the sleepy solitude.
So, when the little cycle of this life is rounded,
Before the spirit enters into life unbounded,
It waits to hear, with bated breath,
The solemn interlude of death. ”

“ Can you give me more than the grave shuts in,
Or the years can bear away?
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Fame will fade and crowns will rust.
Give me, O Earth, but your true embrace,
When the battle is lost or won. ”

“ Will stir with softest sighing, to hear the wind's footfalls;
And through the moss-grown abbey, along Killarney's shore,
The melodies of Erin will echo evermore,
And roll and roll and roll,
Till spirit hands shall toll
The music of the uplands unto the listening soul. ”

“ To sleepy nestlings, then the south winds pass,
And close with fingers soft the pansies' eyes.
Upon the wings of dreams they're borne along
To loving arms that rock them all the night,
And fairy voices soothe their sleep with song,
Till they are waked by kisses of the light. ”

“ And thrill me with a sudden longing!
Through quiet country lanes the sunset shines.
Fence corners where the wild rose climbs and twines,
And blooms in tangled black-berry vines,
"Bob White! Bob White!" ”

“ One through the budding woods goes wandering;
And finds, where late the snow has blown across,
Beneath the leaves, a violet in the moss.
1887. A. F. B.
NOW I can sing of life, whose days are brief,
For I have walked close hand in hand with grief. ”

“ The North Star of his great ambition. He
Who once has lost an Eden, or has gained
A paradise by Eve's sweet influence,
Alone can know how strong a spell lies in
The witchery of a woman's beckoning hand. ”

“ Through an Amber Pane.
BY some strange alchemy that turns to gold
The light that drops from gray and leaden skies,
Though heavy mists the outer world enfold,
'Tis always sunshine where Napoleon lies. ”

“ An alien eye long used to sights
[19] Among the snow-crowned Alpine heights.
An eagle does not bend its wing
To low-built nests where robins sing.
Between the fence's zigzag rails,
The stranger sees the road that trails
Its winding way into the dark,
Fern-scented woods. ”

“ The veil of silence. Then the gates swing shut,
[46] And Time, the grim old warden, bolts them fast.
No more can come again those halcyon days
The Year took with it to its dim-lit cell;
But often at the bars they stand and gaze,
When through the heart rings memory's matin-bell.
[47]
Echoes From Erin.
ACROSS old Purple Mountain I hear a bugle call,
And down the rocks, like water, the echoes leap and fall. ”

“ SOMETIMES my needle stops with half-drawn thread
(Not often though, each moment's waste means bread,
And missing stitches leave the little mouths unfed) .
I look down on the dingy court below:
A tuft of grass is all it has to show,—
A broken pump, where thirsty children go. ”

“ Of the white angel, Israfel?
[75]
Here and There.
HOW must they sing, those angel choirs,
Who breathe Heaven's pure, sweet air!
They need but waft it from their lips
To make it music rare.
Here on these chill, damp plains below,
Where stifling vapors rise,
We draw the heavy air of earth,
And breathe it out in sighs.
[76]
The Milky Way.
UP the steep heights whereon God's citadel
Is set, the prayers of mortals to that bourne,
For ages toiling, in the adamant,
Across the sky a glittering path have worn.
[77]
[79]
INTERLUDE. Interlude. ”