A Cluster of Grapes - A Book of Twentieth Century Poetry
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| Publié par | mutheng |
| Publié le | 08 décembre 2010 |
| Nombre de lectures | 39 |
| Langue | English |
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Title: A Cluster of Grapes A Book of Twentieth Century Poetry Author: Various Release Date: May 31, 2007 [EBook #21649] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CLUSTER OF GRAPES ***
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A CLUSTER OF GRAPES
A BOOK OF TWENTIETH CENTURY POETRY
By
GALLOWAY KYLE
"Hee doth not onely shew the way, as will entice anie man to enter into it: nay he doth as if your journey should lye through a faire vineyard, at the verie first, give you a cluster of grapes, that full of that taste, you may long to passe further."
LONDON: ERSKINE MACDONALD 1914 The contents of this volume are copyright and may not be reproduced without the permission of the respective authors and publishers.
PREFACE If the existence and contents of this book require any explanation, the compiler may adopt the words of a famous defender of poetry: "Hee doth not onely shewthe way but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way as will entice anie man into it. "Nay, hee doth as if your journey should lye through a faire Vineyard, at the verie first give you a cluster of Grapes that full of that taste you may long to passe further. He beginneth not with obscure definitions, which must blurre the margent with interpretations and loade the memorie with doubtfulnesse, but hee cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with or prepared for the well-enchanting skill of musicke, and with a tale forsoothe he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and olde men from the chimney-corner, and pretending no more, doth intend the winning of the minde from wickedness to vertue." These excellent words of Sir Philip Sidney give the reason and scope of this collection of examples of the poetry of the present century. No attempt at arbitrary classification or labelling has been made; it is not intended to show that any poet, deliberately or otherwise, is a Neo-Symbolist or Paroxyst or is afflicted with any other 'ist or 'ism; it is not compiled to assert that any one group of poets is superior to any other group of poets or to poets who had the misfortune to have their corporeal existence cut short before the dawn of the twentieth century; it is not even intended to prove that good poetry is written in our time. All such purposes and particularly the latter are superfluous and may be left to dogmatic disputants who have little care for the grace and harmony of poetry. The scheme of the Anthology is simple and without guile. It does not presuppose an abrupt period, but for the sake of convenience and in justification of its existence includes only the work of living writers produced during the present century and therefore most likely to be representative of the poetry of to-day. No editorial credit can be claimed for the selections; they are not the reflex of one individual's taste and preferences, but have been made by the writers themselves, to whom —and their respective publishers—for their cordial co-operation the collator of this distinctive volume is exceedingly grateful, not on his own account only but also on behalf of those readers to whom this volume will open out so fair a prospect that they will long to pass further, this "cluster of grapes" being one of the "lures immortal" for the rapidly increasing number of discriminating lovers of the high poetry that is the touchstone of beauty. The finest lyric work of our day needs no further introduction; the poet is his own best interpreter; but it may be added, in anticipation of adventitious criticism of the limitations of these examples, that the capacity of the present volume and the absence abroad of some potential contributors account for the non-inclusion of certain writers who otherwise would have been represented here. GALLOWAY KYLE. May, 1914.
BIBLIOGRAPHY AND CONTENTS
Page A.E.: Collected Poems (Macmillan), 1913. Reconciliation1 The Man to the Angel2 Babylon3 ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON: Le Cahier Jaune (privately printed), 1892. Poems, 1893; Lyrics, 1895; Lord
Vyet, and other Poems, 1897; The Professor and other Poems, 1900; Peace and other Poems, 1905; Collected Poems (John Lane, The Bodley Head), 1909. Making Haste5 At Eventide6 In a College Garden7 ANNA BUNSTON (Mrs de Bary): Leaves from a Woman's Manuscript, 1904 (out of print); Mingled Wine (Longmans), 1909; The Porch of Paradise (Herbert & Daniel), 1911; Songs of God and Man (Herbert & Daniel), 1912; Letters of a Schoolma'am (Dent), 1913; Jephthah's Daughter (Erskine MacDonald), 1914; Mingled Wine (Cheaper re-issue, Erskine MacDonald), 1914. A Mortgaged Inheritance8 The Wilderness9 Under a Wiltshire Apple Tree11 G. K. CHESTERTON: (b. 1873). Poems in Novels and themoomCeanwhlt, theNew Witness, etc.; The Wild Knight and other Poems (Richards), 1900; Browning, in "English Men of Letters" (Macmillan), 1903; Ballad of the White Horse (Methuen), 1911. Sonnet with the Compliments of the Season13 When I came back to Fleet Street14 The Truce of Christmas17 FRANCES CORNFORD: Poems (Bowes & Bowes, Cambridge), 1910. Death and the Princess, a Morality (Bowes & Bowes), 1913. The Princess and the Gypsies19 The Dandelion22 Social Intercourse23 WALTER DE LA MARE: (b. 1873). Songs of Childhood (Longmans), 1902; Henry Brocken (Murray), 1904; Poems, 1906: The Three Mulla Malgars (Duckworth); The Return (Arnold), 1910; The Listeners and other Poems (Constable), 1911; Peacock Pie (Constable), 1913. An Epitaph24 Arabia25 Nod26 JOHN GALSWORTHY: (b. 1867). Novels, Studies, and Verse; Villa Rubein, 1901; The Island Pharisees, 1904; The Man of Property, 1906; The Country House, 1907; A Commentary, 1908; Fraternity, 1909; A Motley, 1910; The Patrician, 1911; The Inn of Tranquillity; and Moods, Songs and Doggerels, 1913; The Dark Flower (Heinemann), 1913; Plays: Vol. I, The Silver Box; Joy; Strife, 1909. Vol. II, Justice; The Little Dream; The Eldest Son, 1912. Vol. III, The Fugitive; The Pigeon; The Mob, 1914. The Downs27 The Prayer27 Devon to Me28 EVA GORE-BOOTH: Poems (Longmans, Green & Co.), 1898; Unseen Kings (Longmans), 1904; The One and the Many (Longmans), 1904; The Three Resurrections and the Triumph of Maeve (Longmans), 1905; The Sorrowful Princess (Longmans), 1907; The Egyptian Pillar (Maunsel & Co., Dublin), 1907; The Agate Lamp (Longmans), 1912. Maeve of the Battles29 Re-Incarnation31 Leonardo Da Vinci34 JOHN GURDON: Erinna, a Tragedy (Edward Arnold), 1913; Dramatic Lyrics (Elkin Matthews), 1906; Enchantments (Erskine Macdonald), 1912. Surrender36 Before the Fates38 THOMAS HARDY: (b. 1840). Wessex Poems, 1898; Poems of the Past and Present, 1901; The Dynasts; An Epic Drama, Part I, 1903-4; Part II, 1906; Part III, 1908; Time's Lau hin Stocks and other Verses Macmillan , 1910.
A Trampwoman's Tragedy42 Chorus from "The Dynasts" (Part III)47 The Ballad Singer49 RALPH HODGSON: Contributions to theSaturday Review; Flying Fame Chap Books. The Moor50 Time, You Old Gipsy Man51 Ghoul Care53 W. G. HOLE: Procris and other Poems (Paul); Amoris Imago (Paul); Poems, Lyrical and Dramatic (Matthews), 1902; Queen Elizabeth, An Historical Drama (Geo. Bell & Sons), 1904; New Poems (Geo. Bell & Sons), 1907; The Chained Titan (Geo. Bell & Sons,) 1910; The Master: A Poetical Play in Two Acts (Erskine Macdonald), 1913. Roosevelt-Village Street54 The Haunted Fields58 Captive in London Town60 LAURENCE HOUSMAN: (b. 1867). Mendicant Rimes; Selected Poems (Sidgwick & Jackson). The Fellow-Travellers61 The Settlers62 Song63 EMILIA S. LORIMER: Songs of Alban (Constable), 1912. Love Songs64 Storm65 JAMES A. MACKERETH: In Grasmere Vale and other Poems, 1907; The Cry on the Mountain, 1908; When We Dreamers Wake, a Drama for To-day (Nutt), 1909; A Son of Cain and other Poems (Longmans), 1910; In the Wake of the Phœnix (Longmans), 1911; On the Face of a Star (Longmans), 1913. To a Blackbird on New Year's Day66 La Danseuse68 God Returns70 ALICE MEYNELL: Poems (Collected Edition), 1913. Essays (selected from The Rhythm of Life, etc.) (Burns & Oates), 1914. To the Body72 Christ in the Universe73 Maternity74 WILL H. OGILVIE: The Overlander; The Land we Love; Whaup o' the Rede (Thomas Fraser, Dalbeattie); Rainbows and Witches (Elkin Matthews); Fair Girls and Grey Horses; Hearts of Gold (Angus & Robertson, Australia). There's a Clean Wind Blowing75 The Garden of the Night76 The Crossing Swords79 STEPHEN PHILLIPS: Eremus (Paul), 1894; Christ in Hades (Matthews), 1896; Poems, 1897; Paolo and Francesca, 1899; Marpessa, 1900; Herod, 1900; Ulysses, 1902; Nero, 1906; The New Inferno, 1910; New Poems, Lyrics and Dramas (John Lane), 1913. Lures Immortal80 Beautiful lie the Dead82 Lyric from "The Sin of David"83 EDEN PHILLPOTTS: Many novels: Dance of the Months; Sketches of Dartmoor and Poems (Gowans & Gray), 1911; The Iscariot, a Poem (Murray), 1912; Up-Along and Down-Along (Methuen), 1905; Wild Fruit (John Lane), 1911. A Devon Courting84 A Litany to Pan85 Swinburne87 DORA SIGERSON SHORTER:
Verses, 1894; The Fairy Changeling, and other Poems, 1897; My Lady's Slipper and other Poems, 1898; Ballads and Poems, 1899; The Father Confessor, 1900; The Woman who went to Hell, 1902; As the Sparks fly Upward, 1904; The Story and Song of Earl Roderick, 1906; Collected Poems, 1909; The Troubadour, 1910; New Poems, 1912; Madge Linsey and other Poems (Maunsel, Dublin), 1913. The Watcher in the Wood88 The Nameless One89 When I shall Rise91 ARTHUR SYMONS: Images of Good and Evil, 1900; Poems, 1901; The Fool of the World and other Poems, 1906; The Knave of Hearts (Heinemann), 1913; Cities of Italy, 1908; The Romantic Movement in English Poetry, 1909. Tanagra92 Giovanni Malatesta at Rimini93 La Melinite: Moulin Rouge95 EVELYN UNDERHILL: Immanence, A Book of Verses (J. M. Dent & Sons), 1912; Mysticism; The Mystic Way. Immanence97 Introversion99 Ichthus100 MARGARET L. WOODS: Poems, Collected Edition (John Lane), 1913. Songs102 The Changeling103
Æ
RECONCILIATION I begin through the grass once again to be bound to the Lord; I can see, through a face that has faded, the face full of rest Of the earth, of the mother, my heart with her heart in accord, As I lie mid the cool green tresses that mantle her breast I begin with the grass once again to be bound to the Lord. By the hand of a child I am led to the throne of the King For a touch that now fevers me not is forgotten and far, And His infinite sceptred hands that sway us can bring Me in dreams from the laugh of a child to the song of a star. On the laugh of a child I am borne to the joy of the King.
THE MAN TO THE ANGEL I have wept a million tears: Pure and proud one, where are thine, What the gain though all thy years In unbroken beauty shine? All your beauty cannot win Truth we learn in pain and sighs: You can never enter in To the circle of the wise. They are but the slaves of light Who have never known the gloom, And between the dark and bright Willed in freedom their own doom.
Think not in your pureness there, That our pain but follows sin: There are fires for those who dare Seek the throne of might to win. Pure one, from your pride refrain: Dark and lost amid the strife I am myriad years of pain Nearer to the fount of life. When defiance fierce is thrown At the god to whom you bow, Rest the lips of the Unknown Tenderest upon my brow.
BABYLON The blue dusk ran between the streets: my love was winged within my mind, It left to-day and yesterday and thrice a thousand years behind. To-day was past and dead for me, for from to-day my feet had run Through thrice a thousand years to walk the ways of ancient Babylon. On temple top and palace roof the burnished gold flung back the rays Of a red sunset that was dead and lost beyond a million days. The tower of heaven turns darker blue, a starry sparkle now begins; The mystery and magnificence, the myriad beauty and the sins Come back to me. I walk beneath the shadowy multitude of towers; Within the gloom the fountain jets its pallid mist in lily flowers. The waters lull me and the scent of many gardens, and I hear Familiar voices, and the voice I love is whispering in my ear. Oh real as in dream all this; and then a hand on mine is laid: The wave of phantom time withdraws; and that young Babylonian maid, One drop of beauty left behind from all the flowing of that tide, Is looking with the self-same eyes, and here in Ireland by my side. Oh light our life in Babylon, but Babylon has taken wings, While we are in the calm and proud procession of eternal things.
ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON
MAKING HASTE "Soon!" says the Snowdrop, and smiles at the motherly earth, "Soon!—for the Spring with her languors comes stealthily on Snow was my cradle, and chill winds sang at my birth; Winter is over—and I must make haste to be gone!" "Soon," says the Swallow, and dips to the wind-ruffled stream, "Grain is all garnered—the Summer is over and done; Bleak to the eastward the icy battalions gleam, Summer is over—and I must make haste to be gone!" "Soon—ah, too soon!" says the Soul, with a pitiful gaze, "Soon!—for I rose like a star, and for aye would have shone! See the pale shuddering dawn, that must wither my rays, Leaps from the mountains—and I must make haste to be gone!"
AT EVENTIDE
At morn I saw the level plain So rich and small beneath my feet, A sapphire sea without a stain, And fields of golden-waving wheat; Lingering I said, "At noon I'll be At peace by that sweet-scented tide. How far, how fair my course shall be, Before I come to the Eventide!" Where is it fled, that radiant plain? I stumble now in miry ways; Dark clouds drift landward, big with rain, And lonely moors their summits raise. On, on with hurrying feet I range, And left and right in the dumb hillside Grey gorges open, drear and strange, And so I come to the Eventide!
IN A COLLEGE GARDEN Birds, that cry so loud in the old, green bowery garden, Your song is ofLove! Love! Love! Will ye weary not nor cease? For the loveless soul grows sick, the heart that the grey days harden; I know too well that ye love! I would ye should hold your peace. I too have seen Love rise, like a star; I have marked his setting; I dreamed in my folly and pride that Life without Love were peace. But if Love should await me yet, in the land of sleep and forgetting— Ah, bird, could you sing me this, I would not your song should cease!
ANNA BUNSTON (Mrs de BARY)
A MORTGAGED INHERITANCE I knew a land whose streams did wind More winningly than these, Where finer shadows played behind The clean-stemmed beechen trees. The maidens there were deeper eyed, The lads more swift and fair, And angels walked at each one's side— Would God that I were there! Here daffodils are dressed in gold, But there they wore the sun, And here the blooms are bought and sold, But there God gave each one. There all roads led to fairyland That here do lead to care, And stars were lamps on Heaven's strand— Would God, that I were there! Here worship crawls upon her course That there with larks would cope, And here her voice with doubt is hoarse That there was sweet with hope. O land of Peace! my spirit dies For th once tasted air,
O earliest loss! O latest prize! Would God that I were there!
THE WILDERNESS
From Life's enchantments, Desire of place, From lust of getting Turn thou away, and set thy face Toward the wilderness. The tents of Jacob As valleys spread, As goodly cedars, Or fair lign aloes, white and red, Shall share thy wilderness. With awful judgments, The law, the rod, With soft allurements And comfortable words, will God Pass o'er the wilderness. The bitter waters Are healed and sweet, The ample heavens Pour angel's bread about thy feet Throughout the wilderness. And Carmel's glory Thou thoughtest gone, And Sharon's roses, The excellency of Lebanon Delight thy wilderness. Who passeth Jordan Perfumed with myrrh, With myrrh and incense? Lo! on his arm Love leadeth her Who trod the wilderness.
UNDER A WILTSHIRE APPLE TREE Some folks as can afford, So I've heard say, Sets up a sort of cross Right in the garden way To mind 'em of the Lord. But I, when I do see Thic apple tree An' stoopin' limb All spread wi' moss, I think of Him And how he talks wi' me. I think of God And how he trod That garden long ago: He walked, I reckon, to and fro And then sat down Upon the groun' Or some low limb What suited Him Same as you see On man a tree,
And on this very one Where I at set o' sun Do sit and talk wi' He. An' mornings, too, I rise an' come An' sit down where the branch be low; A bird do sing, a bee do hum, The flowers in the border blow, An' all my heart's so glad an' clear As pools be when the sun do peer: As pools a laughin' in the light When mornin' air is swep' an' bright, As pools what got all Heaven in sight So's my heart's cheer When He be near. He never pushed the garden door, He left no footmark on the floor; I never heard 'Un stir nor tread An' yet His Hand do bless my head, And when 'tis time for work to start I takes Him with me in my heart. And when I die, pray God I see At very last thic apple tree An' stoopin' limb, An' think o' Him And all He been to me.
G. K. CHESTERTON
SONNET WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON (To a popular leader, to be congratulated on the avoidance of a strike at Christmas.) I know you. You will hail the huge release, Saying the sheathing of a thousand swords, In silence and injustice, well accords With Christmas bells. And you will gild with grease The papers, the employers, the police, And vomit up the void your windy words To your new Christ; who bears no whip of cords For them that traffic in the doves of peace. The feast of friends, the candle-fruited tree, I have not failed to honour. And I say It would be better for such men as we And we be nearer Bethlehem, if we lay Shot dead on snows scarlet for Liberty, Dead in the daylight; upon Christmas Day.
WHEN I CAME BACK TO FLEET STREET When I came back to Fleet Street, Through a sunset-nook at night, And saw the old Green Dragon With the windows all alight, And hailed the old Green Dragon And the Cock I used to know, Where all the good fellows were my friends A little while ago.
I had been long in meadows, And the trees took hold of me, And the still towns in the beech-woods, Where men were meant to be; But old things held; the laughter, The long unnatural night, And all the truth the talk in hell, And all the lies they write. For I came back to Fleet Street, And not in peace I came; A cloven pride was in my heart, And half my love was shame. I came to fight in fairy tale, Whose end shall no man know— To fight the old Green Dragon Until the Cock shall crow! Under the broad bright windows Of men I serve no more, The groaning of the old great wheels Thickened to a throttled roar; All buried things broke upwards; And peered from its retreat, Ugly and silent, like an elf, The secret of the street. They did not break the padlocks, Or clear the wall away. The men in debt that drank of old Still drink in debt to-day; Chained to the rich by ruin, Cheerful in chains, as then When old unbroken Pickwick walked Among the broken men. Still he that dreams and rambles Through his own elfin air, Knows that the street's a prison, Knows that the gates are there: Still he that scorns or struggles, Sees frightful and afar All that they leave of rebels Rot high on Temple Bar. All that I loved and hated, All that I shunned and knew, Clears in broad battle lightening; Where they, and I, and you, Run high the barricade that breaks The barriers of the Street, And shout to them that shrink within, The Prisoners of the Fleet!
THE TRUCE OF CHRISTMAS Passionate peace is in the sky And on the snow in silver sealed The beasts are perfect in the field And men seem men so suddenly But take ten swords, and ten times ten, And blow the bugle in praising men For we are for all men under the sun And they are against us every one And misers haggle, and mad men clutch And there is peril in praising much And we have the terrible tongues un-curled That praise the world to the sons of the world.
The idle humble hill and wood Are bowed about the sacred Birth And for one little while the earth Is lazy with the love of good But ready are you and ready am I If the battle blow and the guns go by For we are for all men under the sun And they are against us every one For the men that hate herd altogether To pride and gold and the great white feather And the thing is graven in star and stone That the men that love are all alone. Hunger is hard and time is tough But bless the beggars and kiss the kings For hope has broken the heart of things And nothing was ever praised enough But hold the shield for a sudden swing And point the sword in praising a thing For we are for all men under the sun And they are against us every one And mime and merchant, thane and thrall, Hate us because we love them all Only till Christmas time goes by Passionate peace is in the sky.
FRANCES CORNFORD
THE PRINCESS AND THE GIPSIES As I looked out one May morning, I saw the tree-tops green; I said: "My crown I will lay down And live no more a queen " . Then I tripped down my golden steps All in my silken gown, And when I stood in the open wood, I met some gipsies brown. "O gentle, gentle gipsies, That roam the wide world through, Because I hate my crown and state O let me come with you. "My councillors are old and grey, And sit in narrow chairs; But you can hear the birds sing clear, And your hearts are as light as theirs." "If you would come along with us, Then you must count the cost; For though in Spring the sweet birds sing, In Winter comes the frost. "Your ladies serve you all the day With courtesy and care; Your fine-shod feet they tread so neat, But a gipsy's feet go bare. "You wash in water running warm Through basins all of gold; The streams where we roam have silver foam,
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