Works

LAURENCE RABY.

Laurence:
I said to young Allan M'Ilveray,
Beside the swift swirls of the North,
When, in lilac shot through with a silver ray,
We haul'd the strong salmon fish forth,...

Aye, snows are rife in December,
And sheaves are in August yet,
And you would have me remember,
And I would rather forget;
In the bloom of the May-day weather,
In the blight of October chill,...

Adieu to kindred hearts and home,
To pleasure, joy, and mirth,
A fitter foot than mine to roam
Could scarcely tread the earth;
For they are now so few indeed
(Not more than three in all),...

HELEN RABY.

Where the grave-deeps rot, where the grave-dews rust,
They dug, crying, 'Earth to earth',
Crying, 'Ashes to ashes and dust to dust',
And what are my poor prayers worth?...

Prologue

Calm and clear! the bright day is declining,
The crystal expanse of the bay,
Like a shield of pure metal, lies shining
'Twixt headlands of purple and grey,...

To fetch clear water out of the spring
The little maid Margaret ran;
From the stream to the castle's western wing
It was but a bowshot span;
On the sedgy brink where the osiers cling...

'There's something in this world amiss
Shall be unriddled by-and-bye.'
- Tennyson.


Boot and saddle, see, the slanting
Rays begin to fall,
Flinging lights and colours flaunting...

Scene I
'Discontent'

LAURENCE RABY.

Laurence:
I said to young Allan M'Ilveray,
Beside the swift swirls of the North,
When, in lilac shot through with a silver ray,...

The spring-wind pass'd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves,
And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride;...

'Turn out, boys!', 'What's up with our super to-night?
The man's mad, Two hours to daybreak I'd swear,
Stark mad, why, there isn't a glimmer of light.'
'Take Bolingbroke, Alec, give Jack the young mare;...

In Collins-street standeth a statue tall,*
A statue tall on a pillar of stone,
Telling its story, to great and small,
Of the dust reclaimed from the sand waste lone.
Weary and wasted, and worn and wan,...

In Five Parts


Part I
Visions in the Smoke

Rest, and be thankful! On the verge
Of the tall cliff rugged and grey,
But whose granite base the breakers surge,...

'Aye, squire,' said Stevens, 'they back him at evens;
The race is all over, bar shouting, they say;
The Clown ought to beat her; Dick Neville is sweeter
Than ever, he swears he can win all the way.
...

Aylmer's Garden, near the Lake. LAURENCE RABY and ESTELLE.

He:
Come to the bank where the boat is moor'd to the willow-tree low;
Bertha, the baby, won't notice, Brian, the blockhead, won't know.
...

'Then hey for boot and horse, lad!
And round the world away!
Young blood will have its course, lad!
And every dog his day!'
- C. Kingsley.


There's a formula which the west country clowns...

The Lord shall slay or the Lord shall save!
He is righteous whether He save or slay,
Brother, give thanks for the gifts He gave,
Though the gifts He gave He hath taken away....

'And if there's blood upon his hand,
'Tis but the blood of deer.'
- W. Scott.


To beasts of the field, and fowls of the air,
And fish of the sea alike,
Man's hand is ever slow to spare,...

'A stone upon her heart and head,
But no name written on that stone;
Sweet neighbours whisper low instead,
This sinner was a loving one.'
- Mrs. Browning.


...

Translation from Horace


When he, that shepherd false, 'neath Phrygian sails,
Carried his hostess Helen o'er the seas,
In fitful slumber Nereus hush'd the gales,...

Am I waking? Was I sleeping?
Dearest, are you watching yet?
Traces on your cheeks of weeping
Glitter, 'Tis in vain you fret;
Drifting ever! drifting onward!
In the glass the bright sand runs...