Verses from the Prose Works

NURSERY RHYME

Dribble-dribble - trickle-trickle What a lot of raw dust!

My dollie's had an accident And out came all the sawdust !

THE TWO POTTERS

If I have taken the common clay,
And wrought it cunningly

In the shape of a god that was digged of a clod,

The greater honor to me.

If thou hast taken the common clay,

And thy bands be not free

From the taint of the soil thou hast made

thy spoil

The greater shame to thee.

THE CRASHING CHORUS

Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire,
Firm hand, and eagle eye

Must he acquire who would aspire
To see the gray boar die.

VIBART'S MORALITIES

There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken any way you please, is bad,
And strands them in forsaken guts and creeks
No decent soul would think of visiting.

You can not stop the tide; but now and then,
You may arrest some rash adventurer

Who h'm will hardly thank you for

your pains.

Cry "Murder!" in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbor anxious eyes
That ask: "Art thou the man?" We

hunted Cain,

Some centuries ago, across the world,

That bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain To-day.

THE MESS ROOM

He drank strong waters and his speech was coarse;

He purchased raiment and forebore to pay; He stuck a trusting junior with a horse,

And won gymkhanas in a doubtful way, Then, 'twixt a vice and folly, turned aside

To do good deeds and straight, to cloak them,

lied.

Verses from the Prose Works

SIR HUGHIE AND THE FAIRIES

"I have a thousand men," said he,
"To wait upon my will,
And towers nine upon the Tyne,

And three upon the Till."

"And what care I for your men," said she, "Or towers from Tyne to Till,

Sith you must go with me," she said. "To wait upon my will ?"

"And you may lead a thousand men, Nor never draw the rein;

But ere ye lead the Faery Queen

'T will burst your heart in twain."

He has slipped his foot from the stirrup bar,
The bridle from his hand,

And he is bound by hand and foot
To the Queen o' Faery Land.

THE PALACE OF Art

I built myself a lordly pleasure-house,
Wherein at ease for aye to dwell;

I said: "O Soul, make merry and carouse,
Dear Soul for all is well."

THE FIGHT OF HERIOT'S FORD

"What's yon that follows at my side?' "The foe that ye must fight, my lord." "That hirples swift as I can ride?”

"The shadow of the night, my lord." "Then wheel my horse against the foe!" "He's down and overpast, my lord. Ye war against the sunset glow; The darkness gathers fast, my lord."

They burnt a corpse upon the sand-
The light shown out afar;

It guided home the plunging boats
That beat from Zanzibar.

Spirit of Fire, where 'er Thy altars rise, Thou art Light of Guidance to our eyes!

Verses from the Prose Works

ENVOY TO SOLDIERS THREE

And they were stronger hands than mine

That digged the Ruby from the earth

More cunning brains that made it worth The large desire of a King; And bolder hearts that through the brine Went down the Perfect Pearl to bring.

Lo, I have wrought in common clay
Rude figures of a rough-hewn race;
For Pearls strew not the market-place
In this my town of banishment,
Where with the shifting dust I play
And eat the bread of Discontent.

Yet is there life in that I make

Oh, Thou who knowest, turn and see,

As Thou hast power over me,
So have I power over these,

Because I wrought them for Thy sake,
And breathed in them mine agonies.

Small mirth was in the making.

Now

I lift the cloth that cloaks the clay,
And, wearied, at Thy feet I lay

My wares ere I go forth to sell.

The long bazaar will praise—but Thou-
Heart of my heart, have I done well?