Blanche Edith Baughan

“ Peace, the long-exiled housemate, stealing back,
Might smile, with careworn lips. There, hand in hand,
They patiently abode, like two that wait.
Silent they sat together, Reuben’s gaze
Fix’d idly on the once dear apple boughs,
And Mercy watching the long thro’-shine turn
To pillars and to pennons of green light
Her window lily-leaves. They seldom look’d
At one another, very seldom spoke;
Sometimes a fitful word or two might slip.
“She tries you, Reuben.” “Nay, she tends thee, lass!” ”

“ Are gone, and wordless comes the wind, the light
No longer sees itself in human eyes,
Nor watch of man is set upon this world.
Nevertheless, it lives, and has its being.
The wind blows on, the sky presides, the sea
Her ageless journeying round the earth pursues,
And onward all the untrodden currents flow.
Man come or gone, ’tis equal. ”

“ Heading the harbourage of Heaven, and watch’d,
From out the open deep, their voyage done,
Ships making port; and these I knew for souls,
Coming from earthly travel home to God,
But in the very guise of ships they came;
Diverse in build, of varying speed, and size
Unequal ”

“ Clear-ey’d, adown his steep blue paths of Heaven
Sprang laughing; in the dimples of the down
He nestled, ran along the twinkling grass,
Woo’d to faint smiles the wistful earth, and kiss’d
The ready waves into a world of glee.
The larch boughs in the spinney show’d a blush
Of coming verdure and smelt fresh of spring.
Warmth lay along the village; young green grass
Was springing ’neath the old grey churchyard wall,
And light sat reigning in the bare elm-tops. ”

“ With settled lips and deep dumb eyes of blue
(A diver he had been, and some shy sense,
Of that inhuman isolation bred
In the remote dim regions of the sea,
Possess’d him still, and like an unseen wall
Secreted him from neighbourhood, in show
If not in fact) : a man of his own way,
Of even judgment and a quiet heart:
Just before generous, generous after just:
Who, when boys robb’d his garden, prosecuted—
“In rightness to the neighbours and the boys,”
He said, and Mercy then must plead in vain. ”

“ Lonely are you and I,
Heart of my heart.
Lonely the mountain-top
Stands in the sky.
Sunder’d as peak and sea
Are you and I.
The mountain cannot move,
The sea must stay.
Ruled is the world. We too,
We must obey. ”

“ O ready make the temple, then!
Dust the dulness out,
Strew the ground with gladness
And scatter health about.
And, as to all the service,
Thanksgiving will be fit.
For when the senses bring a gift,
God smiles on it. ”

“ Poor soul, she meant no malice. Watch like hers
Body and mind o’er-racks, and if Care’s breath
Can curdle in the heart at times even Love,
How much more like is work-day Charity
So to forswear itself! ”

“ From circle to repeated circle of
Mere space for ever changing, aye unchanged:
Voyages on her solitary way
The strong sea-worthy ship.
And she informs that void. The solitude
She peoples, and to all that blank gives point. ”

“ But when fighting and fun have got hold of a man,
Why,—the women must manage the best way they can.
What’s kisses, and comfort? The worth of a pin
When there’s wrongs to be righted, and honours to win:
When the country is up, and they’re calling from Home,
And you’ve long’d all your life for a bit of a roam! ”

“ But this poor wreck—for other destinies
Launch’d, by her make,—at such her home-return
What but a shamefaced pity can they feel,
And disappointment He?”
Then answer’d one:
“Thou seest the arrival. Hast thou watch’d the voyage? ”

“ I see her still—the piteous mouth,
The great eyes fixt with fear.
Not an hour since upon my knee
Her good-night pranks were play’d,
And now—to face Death . . . and alone . . .
God! and afraid? “Afraid!” ”

“ The next morning he went to his guests and told them: ‘I myself am Phocas.’ They started back, unwilling to imbrue their hands in the blood of their host, but he encouraged them, saying: ‘Since it is the will of God, I am ready to die in His cause.’ Then they led him to the brink of the grave, struck off his head and buried him therein. ”

“ For Sarah. But the neighbours to and fro
Came with kind aid; and went with strange reports.
Reuben was rarely altered. Age was age
And trouble trouble—but what trouble need
Glue up the lips and screw the eyelids down,
And make a man as shy of company
As if he was himself a bit of gold
And all his neighbours thieves? ”

“ Summon, to set me free!”
“O fool! that a delusion charms,
Yonder is not the sea.
“Field upon field yon sky o’erstoops
Ere to the sea it come.”
—Like a struck child, she quails, she droops,
She cowers, and is dumb. ”

“ A frail old man, alone; but there was still
One left to bid him welcome. Pilot tore
At his unwonted chain and snapp’d the links,
Leaping and barking with a frantic joy
Untestified for months, to find the long
Lone waiting over, and his master back.
He stoop’d, and ’twixt his hands the nestling head
Held for a moment, for a moment gazed
In the warm eager eyes; then took his gun,
New-primed, and once more to the shed they went,
Trusting and trusted, two old comrades. There
He shot him through the heart ”

“ That vital spirit, which, come enfranchisement,
Straight to His bosom would the bird bear home?
Yet, if he thus strove long (and those few dread
And poignant moments in his tale of life
Outdid the partial measurement of time,
Outvolumed shallower years) : far otherwise
Influence more potent, more inveterate,
More fundamental wrought, and, last, prevail’d. ”

“ And the whole World lay all round.
And I said: “What must be, will be,
Whether I will or no. . . .”
“There’s That in the world must take its way
Across our weal and woe.
There’s more to the World than you an’ me.” ”

“ And anything in all the world go ill?
Then the door open’d.
With a joke at first
The old doctor greeted neighbours so well known,
So rarely seen—then listen’d, ask’d, grew grave:
Examin’d and grew graver; paus’d awhile . . . ”

“ For, ’twixt Gracey an’ me did I see—a man’s arm!
Not Peter’s. But Gracey she whispers, “No harm.”
An’ she nestles away—nor I wasn’t afraid:
He’s a newcomer, but she’s a good maid.
Only, the slyboots! to think we’d convey’d
Love in the mail-cart to Mennen!
VII
’Twas at Dumbledown Hill that Nell Antony’s Will,
Oh dear! he did give me a start!
For, to lighten the load, all the men took the road,
An’ Zack, he jump’d down ere the horses was slow’d,
An’ Willy (bit jealous, poor heart!) ,
He’d be as clever—but there! ”

“ Gruff father, plaintive mother, brought their pack
Of down-faced culprits to beg pardon, lads
And parents gaped alike to see him rise
Awkward and grave, the unready pilfering hands
Pile up with apples, then, without a word,
Go out, ’mid silence puzzled more than pleased.
Few were his friends, but three he found enough:
His wife, his dog, and (Who Himself adjoins
Great things to small, and neighbours the high hills
With the low valleys) , God. ”

“ What is the loss of Less when All is gone?
Yet drearier is the bleak November down
For the dead stalks of its once-colour’d flowers.
Smooth days no more, and tender peaceful nights;
Vague gentle dalliance with the days long past,
And calm unreckoning with futurity,
No more. Old hardship seem’d a happy dream,
Old joys incredible ”

“ Towards the end of the third century A.D., a holy man named Phocas dwelt outside the gate of Sinope . . . and lived by cultivating a little garden. . . . One night, some strangers knocked at his door, and he invited them to enter. . . . They told him that they were sent in search of a certain Phocas, who had been denounced as a Christian, and that they were commissioned to kill him wheresoever they should find him. The servant of God, without betraying any surprise, conducted them to a chamber of repose, . ”

“ Fight one another;
Carriages thud along toward revelries,
And, fain of nothings, jewell’d and in rags,
Deaf by dumb brother,
Prick’d by Vacuity’s unsparing goad,
Man thrusts and presses o’er the clanking flags. ”

“ VIII
“Oh! aren’t we unkind! Poor Will, don’t you mind!
Have a bull’s eye to warm ’ee,” cries Grace.
An’ Willy, poor chil’, he looks up with a smile,
Like saying the top made the bottom worth while,
An’ he had got a fancy work face!
But wet! And as chattery-cold as you’d ask,
An’ Peter, he whispers to get out the flask.
Zack is teetotal, an’ Schoolmaster too,
So the three of ’em shared it an’ made it just do.
All of us saying ’twould only be fair,
Seeing what water he’d had and to spare,
As Willy should have a drop over his share
To balance him, riding to Mennen. ”

“ To find our old bodies a sortable place
On the mail, of a marketing day.
But, well—there it stood at the Red Lion door,
With the baggage atop an’ the horses afore,
An’ so many babies an’ mothers inside
That, “Peter!” says I, “we shall have a poor ride.” ”

“ It’s been Thy hand all thro’ and—she was broke.
. . . Man’s mind’s a little thing, but this is sure—
Where’er I’m wrong, I’m right here—Work o’ His
Must go straight thro’, no shirking and no sham.
She never shirk’d. An’ if it’s hard, ’tis hard:
But all the time it’s what He needs. ”

“ A bash to my bonnet, a tear in my gown.
But what of the climb when you're up to the top?
The rougher you've travelled, the sweeter you stop.
Then they hoisted an’ shoved my old man to a seat,
An’ “Gee-up!” cries Ben. An’ ’twas truly a treat
To get such a view o’ the shops an’ the street,
Outside o’ the mail into Mennen.
III
’Twas a-growing so dark, I’d a puzzle to mark
How many was taking the air.
There was Benny, an’ Willy the shopman, an’ Zack
(That’s three) on the front seat ”

“ Clear’d I have, and I’ve clear’d an’ clear’d, yet everywhere, slap in your face,
Briar, tauhinu, [1] an’ ruin!—God! it’s a brute of a place.
. . . An’ the house got burnt which I built, myself, with all that worry and pride ”

“ An’ made a written promise o’ some more
(Leaving what’s justly right to quit the rent) ,
An’ paid the rest of em. There’s no more debts.
There’s no more money, but there’s no more debts.
He’s ta’en her in the nick o’ time—but, eh! . . . ”

“ Arous’d the oft unready, ever real
Kindliness of an English countryside.
The poorer neighbours, this with food, and that
With fuel, each one with the shy excuse,
“Wishing to spare you toil and trouble,” came ”