Sir Charles G. D. Roberts

“ Waves at your coming break in livelier blue;
And solemn woods are glad because of you.
Brooks of your laughter learn their liquid notes.
Birds to your voice attune their pleading throats.
Fields to your feet grow smoother and more green ”

“ But the wild spirit that rules her heart-beats wild
Is of diviner birth
And kin to the unknown light beyond my ken.
All I can give to Her have I not given?
Strength to be glad, to suffer, and to know;
The sorcery that subdues the souls of men;
The beauty that is as the shadow of heaven ”

“ Night; and the happy laughter where they meet,
The glad boy lover and the trysting girl.
But thou—but thou—I cannot find thee, Sweet!
Night; and far off the lighted pavements roar.
Night; and the dark of sorrow keeps my door.
I reach my hand out trembling in the dark.
Thy hand comes not with comfort any more. 27
O Silent, Unresponding! ”

“ Your breath’s caress, the lingering of your hair,
I said—“In all your wandering through the dusk, 37
Your waitings on the marriages of flowers
Through the long, intimate hours
When soul and sense, desire and love confer,
You must have known the best that God has made. ”

“ The horses fret by the well-filled manger
Since Marjory went away.
The sheep she fed at the bars await her.
The milch cows low for her down the lane.
They long for her light, light hand at the milking,—
They long for her hand in vain. ”

“ The fox-glove bell, and the kind-eyed pansy,
Their hearts will not forget.
Oh, that her feet had not forgotten
The woodland country, the homeward way!
Oh, to look out of the sad, bright window
And see her come back, some day!
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
Over the wild world rolls the year.
Comes joy to the bird on the nested rafter ”

“ Has ever since within my bosom burned—
One life is not enough for love of you.
43–44
Other Poems
45
An Evening Communion
The large first stars come out
Above the open hill,
And in the west the light
Is lingering still. ”

“ Ὦ Θεοί, τίς ἆρα Κύπρις, ἢ τίς ἵμερος, τοῦδε ξυνήψατο;
9
New York Nocturnes
In the Crowd
I walk the city square with thee.
The night is loud; the pavements roar.
Their eddying mirth and misery
Encircle thee and me.
The street is full of lights and cries. ”

“ Whose spirit is the lord of death!
Set up by J. S. Cushing & Co., and printed by Berwick & Smith, at the Norwood Press, for the publishers, Lamson, Wolffe & Co., in the year Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-eight. ”