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In a great relief of heart when the thing was done
That had set my soul aghast；
And nothing was left of the picture unsheathed from the past
But the ashen ghost of the card it had figured on。
She was a woman long hid amid packs of years；
She might have been living or dead； she was lost to my sight；
And the deed that had nigh drawn tears
Was done in a casual clearance of life's arrears；
But I felt as if I had put her to death that night！ 。 。 。
* * *
… Well； she knew nothing thereof did she survive；
And suffered nothing if numbered among the dead；
Yetyetif on earth alive
Did she feel a smart； and with vague strange anguish strive？
If in heaven； did she smile at me sadly and shake her head？
ON A HEATH
I could hear a gown…skirt rustling
Before I could see her shape；
Rustling through the heather
That wove the common's drape；
On that evening of dark weather
When I hearkened； lips agape。
And the town…shine in the distance
Did but baffle here the sight；
And then a voice flew forward：
Dear； is't you？ I fear the night！〃
And the herons flapped to norward
In the firs upon my right。
There was another looming
Whose life we did not see；
There was one stilly blooming
Full nigh to where walked we；
There was a shade entombing
All that was bright of me。
AN ANNIVERSARY
It was at the very date to which we have come；
In the month of the matching name；
When； at a like minute； the sun had upswum；
Its couch…time at night being the same。
And the same path stretched here that people now follow；
And the same stile crossed their way；
And beyond the same green hillock and hollow
The same horizon lay；
And the same man pilgrims now hereby who pilgrimed here that day。
Let so much be said of the date…day's sameness；
But the tree that neighbours the track；
And stoops like a pedlar afflicted with lameness；
Knew of no sogged wound or windcrack。
And the joints of that wall were not enshrouded
With mosses of many tones；
And the garth up afar was not overcrowded
With a multitude of white stones；
And the man's eyes then were not so sunk that you saw the socket…
bones。
KINGSTON…MAURWARD EWELEASE。
〃BY THE RUNIC STONE〃
（Two who became a story）
By the Runic Stone
They sat； where the grass sloped down；
And chattered； he white…hatted； she in brown；
Pink…faced； breeze…blown。
Rapt there alone
In the transport of talking so
In such a place； there was nothing to let them know
What hours had flown。
And the die thrown
By them heedlessly there； the dent
It was to cut in their encompassment；
Were； too； unknown。
It might have strown
Their zest with qualms to see；
As in a glass； Time toss their history
From zone to zone！
THE PINK FROCK
〃O my pretty pink frock；
I sha'n't be able to wear it！
Why is he dying just now？
I hardly can bear it！
〃He might have contrived to live on；
But they say there's no hope whatever：
And must I shut myself up；
And go out never？
〃O my pretty pink frock；
Puff…sleeved and accordion…pleated！
He might have passed in July；
And not so cheated！〃
TRANSFORMATIONS
Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew；
Bosomed here at its foot：
This branch may be his wife；
A ruddy human life
Now turned to a green shoot。
These grasses must be made
Of her who often prayed；
Last century； for repose；
And the fair girl long ago
Whom I often tried to know
May be entering this rose。
So； they are not underground；
But as nerves and veins abound
In the growths of upper air；
And they feel the sun and rain；
And the energy again
That made them what they were！
IN HER PRECINCTS
Her house looked cold from the foggy lea；
And the square of each window a dull black blur
Where showed no stir：
Yes； her gloom within at the lack of me
Seemed matching mine at the lack of her。
The black squares grew to be squares of light
As the eyeshade swathed the house and lawn；
And viols gave tone；
There was glee within。 And I found that night
The gloom of severance mine alone。
KINGSTON…MAURWARD PARK。
THE LAST SIGNAL
（Oct。 11； 1886）
A MEMORY OF WILLIAM BARNES
Silently I footed by an uphill road
That led from my abode to a spot yew…boughed；
Yellowly the sun sloped low down to westward；
And dark was the east with cloud。
Then； amid the shadow of that livid sad east；
Where the light was least； and a gate stood wide；
Something flashed the fire of the sun that was facing it；
Like a brief blaze on that side。
Looking hard and harder I knew what it meant …
The sudden shine sent from the livid east scene；
It meant the west mirrored by the coffin of my friend there；
Turning to the road from his green；
To take his last journey forthhe who in his prime
Trudged so many a time from that gate athwart the land！
Thus a farewell to me he signalled on his grave…way；
As with a wave of his hand。
WINTERBORNE…CAME PATH。
THE HOUSE OF SILENCE
〃That is a quiet place …
That house in the trees with the shady lawn。〃
〃If； child； you knew what there goes on
You would not call it a quiet place。
Why； a phantom abides there； the last of its race；
And a brain spins there till dawn。〃
〃But I see nobody there； …
Nobody moves about the green；
Or wanders the heavy trees between。〃
〃Ah； that's because you do not bear
The visioning powers of souls who dare
To pierce the material screen。
〃Morning； noon； and night；
Mid those funereal shades that seem
The uncanny scenery of a dream；
Figures dance to a mind with sight；
And music and laughter like floods of light
Make all the precincts gleam。
〃It is a poet's bower；
Through which there pass； in fleet arrays；
Long teams of all the years and days；
Of joys and sorrows； of earth and heaven；
That meet mankind in its ages seven；
An aion in an hour。〃
GREAT THINGS
Sweet cyder is a great thing；
A great thing to me；
Spinning down to Weymouth town
By Ridgway thirstily；
And maid and mistress summoning
Who tend the hostelry：
O cyder is a great thing；
A great thing to me！
The dance it is a great thing；
A great thing to me；
With candles lit and partners fit
For night…long revelry；
And going home when day…dawning
Peeps pale upon the lea：
O dancing is a great thing；
A great thing to me！
Love is； yea； a great thing；
A great thing to me；
When； having drawn across the lawn
In darkness silently；
A figure flits like one a…wing
Out from the nearest tree：
O love is； yes； a great thing；
A great thing to me！
Will these be always great things；
Great things to me？ 。 。 。
Let it befall that One will call；
〃Soul； I have need of thee：〃
What then？ Joy…jaunts； impassioned flings；
Love； and its ecstasy；
Will always have been great things；
Great things to me！
THE CHIMES
That morning when I trod the town
The twitching chimes of long renown
Played out to me
The sweet Sicilian sailors' tune；
And I knew not if late or soon