Transcribed from the 1908 Longmans, Green and Co. edition by David Price, email [email protected]
PAGE I. THE DARK AGES 1 II. THE BELLS OF VENICE 4 III. AN ANCIENT CHURCH 5 IV. TO THE ENGLISH GIPSIES 6 V. AUTUMN DYING 9 VI. THE DEPARTURE FOR CYTHERA 10 VII. THE VILLAGE CHURCH 13 VIII. LADY DAY NEAR BIGNOR 14 IX. A COTTAGE INSCRIPTION 16 X. A MEMORY OF IRELAND 18 XI. “TÍR NAN ÓG” 19 XII. A HIGHLAND DAY 21 XIII. TO THE FIRS 23 XIV. GOOD-BYE 24 XV. THE FAIRY GLEN REVISITED 26 XVI. WAITING 28 XVII. NEAR HAARLEM 30 XVIII. THE TOMB OF SAINT AUGUSTINE AT PAVIA 31 XIX. MODERN FLORENCE 32 XX. TO DANTE 33 XXI. TO PETRARCH 34 XXII. TO A LADY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 35 XXIII. THE “LIBERAL” DIVINE 37 XXIV. THE QUARREL 38 XXV. THE OLD FOUNTAIN 40 XXVI. LOVE AND DEATH 41 XXVII. VIOLETS 43 XXVIII. THE GARDENS OF THE SOUL 44 XXIX. A MAN TO CHILDISH THINGS 46 XXX. THE KNIGHT 47 XXXI. HOPES 48 XXXII. THE PATH 50 XXXIII. THE CALL TO BETHLEHEM 52 XXXIV. A CHRISTMAS LULLABY 53 XXXV. TO THE HOLY CHILD 55 XXXVI. MATER AMABILIS 56 XXXVII. SAINT STEPHEN 57 XXXVIII. SAINT JOHN AT EPHESUS 59 XXXIX. THE LITTLE CHILDREN 61 XL. THE CIRCUMCISION 63 XLI. THE RETURN OF THE MAGI 64 XLII. ATONEMENT 66 XLIII. CALVARY 67 XLIV. “THE DESERT SHALL BLOSSOM” 68 XLV. RESURRECTION 69 XLVI. THE ASCENSION 71 XLVII. A HYMN TO THE HOLY SPIRIT 73 XLVIII. “ADORA ET TACE” 76 XLIX. THE REFUGE OF THE WANDERING 77 L. THE LEGEND OF ST. CHRISTOPHER 79 LI. THE LIGHT INVISIBLE 81 LII. ONWARD 83 LIII. THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED 84 LIV. LETHE 86 LV. AVE ATQUE VALE 88
MEN call you “dark.” What factory then blurred the light Of golden suns, when nothing blacker than the shades Of coming rain climbed up the heather-mantled height? While the air Breathed all the scents of all untrodden flowers, And brooks poured silver through the glimmering glades, Then sweetly wound through virgin ground. Must all that beauty pass? And must our pleasure trains Like foul eruptions belch upon the mountain head? Must we perforce build vulgar villa lanes, And on sweet fields of grass The canting scutcheons of a cheating commerce spread?
Men call you “dark.” Did that faith see with cobwebbed eyes, That built the airy octagon on Ely’s hill, And Gloucester’s Eastern wall that woos the topaz skies, Where the hymn Angelic “Glory be to God on high, And peace on earth to men who feel good will,” Might softly sound God’s throne around? Is that a perfect faith Which pew-filled chapels rears, Where Gothic fronts of stone mask backs of ill-baked bricks, And where the frothy fighting preacher fears, As peasants fear a wraith, His deacon’s frown or some just change in politics?