Classic Poem

Against the unlighted lids of morn,
A full West Wind was blowing hard,
When Willie wakened — hapless bard!
And threw his dreams away with scorn.
He flung them in among the spheres
Which brought them, charged with wistful tears,
That made the barren daylight swim; —
Too often had they play'd on him.
And now, thus harshly out of tune,
The touch of dreamland brought no boon:
He flung his haunting dreams away
Like ghosts before the scaring day —
And looking round him as he rose
From Joan's side, remembered how
The bright-eyed midnight guided them
To this sole refuge for repose
Of weary life & weary limb.
And better could the Fates allow?

It was a ruined House that stood
Upon the borders of a wood,
And lean'd upon a rivers brink,
In which it peer'd thro' many a chink,
With vacant eye; the battered door,
The scatter'd tiles, & windows bare,
The plaister damp, and dusty floor,
Where sleep was shielding Joan from care;
Spake mutely in their nakedness
Of desolation, & distress,
Far distant, but appealing still
Here was some hidden human ill,
Unburied, tho' without record:
But Willie felt a grateful gush
Of thanks to feel it could afford
Such shelter to the outcast, such
Deep lesson to him in his need
Of inward power & strength indeed.

He felt misfortune cannot be
So outcast in its misery
To fail, beneath its scourging fate,
In sheltering the desolate.
Self-pitying pride ran thro' him then,
And peace towards his fellowmen.
High-pitch'd to every influence
Was Willie, as he knelt
In prayer, this sacredness he felt
Diffuse itself thro' every sense —
The inviolate feeling clothed him warm
Ran thro' his blood and shaped his form.
Among the rafters over-head,
He glanced; where now the spider swung,
Or where, above its shining thread,
The hereditary cobweb hung, —
Close to the driving cloud — he gazed
Upon the old fireside's empty grate; —
The brooding spirit there he praised,
And blessings did reciprocate.

His waking wife, no taunting dream
Disturb'd; she laid their scanty meal
And washed her children in the stream,
Without a look that might reveal
Oblivious of her work to do; —
Nor grief that daylight shd renew
The burden. Differently the two
Did travel to the common end; —

For she by instinct straight did wend.
He wandered in a zig-zag maze,
And wildering labyrinth of ways —
But caught from Nature's visage sights
That saved him from his impish lights.

And now upon their path they haste
Once more, of other roofs unknowing —
" Farewell to this " and may they taste
As true a welcome where they're going.
Deserted nature offers aye
That welcoming which men deny.
" Here, where the nettle now is growing "
Cries Willie, " here with fond regret,
" Will we look back, & not forget,
" When roses in our porch are glowing. "

Aloud the full West Wind is blowing!
And with a voice of carnage bends
The trees whose tawny robes 'tis strowing.
With a fierce ruthless hand he rends
The leafage, o'er the fields, bestowing
The whirling groups of summer day —

Elms are struggling, beeches shrieking —
Aloft the cowering clouds are streaking
Their folds with flying blue & gray —
The poplars swing, the pine-trees sway
Like tossing fleets with mast to mast
Heaved on a black tempestuous ocean —
The lime trees hold their leaves to the last;
The oaks are battling in the blast,
Like warriors set with wild commotion.
The dark death circle fi[e]rcely mowing
The willows weep with wild emotion.

Aloud the full West Wind is blowing!
And o'er the waters slowly flowing
Breathes shady ripples & tiny waves:
The forest roars, the thicket raves. —
On one great ceaseless organ swell
Of sound, the rushing wind doth dwell.
And " hark " , cries Willie, smiling arch,
" What mighty music plays our march!
" Few warriors in the great campaign
" Of life e'er tramp'd to such a strain.
" And could they, think you Joan, fail
" Beneath their leader's eye, to gain
" That victory which, not in vain —
" Is promised in the trumpet gale,
" With ear to hear, and heart to feel,
" And will to follow, come woe or weal! "
A fiery look of expectation
He flash'd on her: his moods she knew;
She did not share his inspiration,
But shared his heart with fervour true;
A feeling fraught with reverence too;
To see him throw, with spirit single,
His burdened heart abroad, & mingle
With nature like an angel new.
She loved this weakling of the world
So strong wherein the world is weak.
Loved him; & her deep love impearl'd
With tender tears each faulty freak
His ardour offered to temptation; —
Her love bow'd into veneration
When she beheld the deep & strange
Prophetic insight he could draw
From every object that he saw,
And all the elements in their range; —
Which in that prayerful breast of hers,
She knew to be God's ministers.
Scarce to his heart her answer sank;
For he was wild, & wd not brook
Low tones, but from her gentle look
A moment's glance of love he drank
That might have fill'd a man for ever.

Too wise was she to wish to sever
Her Willie from the invisible link
That bound him to an outward being,
That buoy'd him up; nor let him sink;
This child at heart so old in sorrow!
That buoy'd him up all unforeseeing —
Blind to the changes of the morrow!
Too well she knew that to restrain,
Would tighten the mysterious chain —
Or break it, and his life would be
Either too fettered or too free.
So thus from wisdom's deepest source,
A loving breast, she steer'd her course.

And Oh! what strength this noble soul
Possest, who thus could think & speak,
And all her natural thoughts controul.
While on her baby's tinted cheek
She gazed, & on her boy's so pale.
What promise in the trumpet gale
Felt she? little, or none perchance!
Or if she felt a meaning there,
'Tis that which makes the dead leaves dance
Their frenzied dance of dead despair;

Beneath the pallid autumn glare.
Dance, & eddy, and whirl, & rise,
Mingled together, all hues & kinds;
Yellow & purple & scarlet dyes,
Heap'd by the eight great piping winds.
But hers was not a strength that waits
The spur of elements or fates.
Or from the changing season knows
The dawn of hope, the dread of woes.
This strength lives not in women: nor
This weakness, and their striving war.

Aloud the full West Wind is blowing!
And round him & against him blows,
As though some winged seed 'twere sowing,
That in a soil of promise grows,
And throws up instant flowers & fruit:
Now, sounding like a mellow lute
Over some smooth, deep twilight water
Now rising to a noise of slaughter,
When rival clans & hostile hordes
Shriek in a clash of shields & swords.
Scarce to his heart her answer sank;
But never yet had warrior knight,
Or legendary squire of rank,
Or soldier lad in feud, or fight,
Or foray, such a comrade sure
As Willie felt with Joan secure
In his campaign and battle of life:
So staunch & steady in the strife,
So valorous in adversity,
So full of all resource was she!
In strength & patience so complete
To build up victory o'er defeat.
He knew it, and even while he shouted,
Felt that on him would fall the blame,
The pointing finger and the shame,
If he in this great fight were routed.
But triumph was a thing undoubted
Now, with all his blood a-flame,
His brain fermenting, and his Muse
Ready to flood the earth, and flying
Light as a lark o'er morning dews,
Or echo to the hills, replying.
" Courage " ! he cries, his brows down-bent,
As if to charge a thousand shot
From some advancing regiment, —
With Death before it like a blot,
And a concentered deadly eye; —
" Courage! for thou who bravely die,
" Are conquerors by divinest right,
" And only those who turn to flight
" Are conquered; never such was I.
" Valour is more than men or might.
" Have courage! Forward to the van!
" And living, thou shalt gain the crown
" Of victory & the great renown, —
" Or dying, vanquish more than man.

" And pipe aloud, O Wind o' the West "
Sings Willie; " pipe! & sightless, hueless,
" Take the whole world within thy viewless
" Vast embrace! Pervade, invest,
" And nerve with thy voice all living Creatures,
" And all the cold Autumnal features
" Change with thy warmth, O Wind o' the West
" And over copse & pasture hoary,
" Pour with thy great invisible glory;
" Where'er thou comest a welcome guest!
" Pipe, pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
" Aloud! and with the shrill hallooing
" When the fox drags his brush, renewing
" The outcry of the wild unrest
" Pipe — pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
" Aloud! and thro' the weeping branches
" Fall with the force of avalanches, —
" Where the thick snows are hoarded best.
" Pipe, pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
" Pipe with thy deep melodious changes,
" Pipe with thy grand orchestral ranges —
" Forest & woodland wait thy test.
" Pipe, pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
" Tune to thy varied alternations
" Trees & seas and mountain stations,
" Clouds and rocky torrent crest.
" Pipe, pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
" Lo! the wild storm in leash thou holdest!
" The thunder in thy arms thou foldest
" The lightning lodges in thy breast.
" Pipe, full of power O Wind o' the West!
" Come from the mouth of God! who breathing
" Sends thee abroad, his missions wreathing;
" Charged with His Presence and behest!
" Call with His Voice O Wind o' the West! "

And Joan with three quick kisses seal'd
This sudden faith her mate reveal'd
That God was with them everywhere:
A thing she fear'd he did not care
To feel, or fancy, turning swift
She caught him, & her lips did lift,
Sweet lips in that small face so fair!
And thrice she kiss'd him, then & there!
Then pipe aloud O Wind o' the West!
And meet them as they mount the hill,
And linger by the rain-swoln rill,
Or in the valley urge their quest
For work to help them on; and pipe
The pastoral joy into their ear;
The joy of seeing all things ripe
And reap'd; the thankful harvest cheer.
And blow against them where they go
Unhappy with their sad rebuff;
Their utter helplessness of woe;
Against them blow with greeting rough.
Follow them when from thee they turn,
And whirl the dead leaves round & round.
Follow them thro' the dead red fern
And thro' the silent pine wood ground,
Where solemnly thy voice is heard
And answered — thro' the oak wood follow,
Where yet 'tis green in every hollow, —
And hush the cricket & the bird
With loftier sound, and pipe aloud
And bear aloft the streaming cloud!
And meet them in the green recess,
Where moss is soft & thick & deep,
And gray firs toss their ancient dress
And gold-hued birch shrubs wane & weep.
Clothe them close with warmth & balm,
And circle them with holy calm.
And follow them thro' the forest ways
Where the branch roofing swings & sways
Beneath thy sweeping fingers fierce,
And Autumn sheds her wildest tears.
And meet them on the outcast moors
Where like to them thou travellest lone,
And on the great heath's purple floors
Where wildest wings have wildly flown.
O light of heart & limb! as one
Who breathes the thinner mountain breath,
High up among the Heavens, was he!
And not a shadow from his glee
Fell with its finger pointing death;
For Joy was his meridian sun.

His large blue eyes still fiercely flashing
As when the exulting sea is dashing
With power, weak mortals read for wrath, —
Proclaimed the passage & the path
On which his soul had taken wings —
Among the wild wind-wakened things,
All streaming from the West, & shrill
With Western music, piping still.
He walked with feathered feet; he clapt
His boy upon the back, and rapt
A barbarous tatoo, and sang
Blithe snatches of old songs, and sprang
As if to reach a dropping sphere;
And dandled his little daughter dear.

The lyric impulse of delight
He shared with every thing in sight;
Whether the gray-lined hills that, dim
Along the distance seem'd to swim;
The clouds that from their ragged sides
Threatened to pour Autumnal tides; —
Whether the green-bank'd brook, whose voice
Made the lush herbs and weeds rejoice;
The roadway with its shading eaves,
And eddying rings of yellow leaves; —
The white geese on the windy green,
The hewn logs by the cottage clean,
The sheep among the scattered furze,
The grazing ass with lazy ears;
Or the moss-spotted old farm wall,
All brown & gray, where ivies crawl,
And wallflower roots in stonecrop hide,
And yellow weeds wave thick and wide.
He shared with every thing in sight
The lyric impulse of delight,
And imaged it, as doth a river
Mirroring all it meets, for ever.
" And O green bounteous earth! " he cries —
" Bacchante beauteous! drinking deep
" Of spirit wines that, from the steep
" Where the high gods hold revelries,
" Spilt over! spilt from Hebe's hand!
" And meant alone to quench the drouth
" Of those who feel and understand
" The yearnings of immortal youth —
" Great joyous Mother! on the skies
" Gazing for aye; with amorous eyes;
" Distended innocent & bare
" To the old Eden of the air
" Mother! with fruitful breasts up-swelling,
" As in their nuptial adoration; —
" Shout! shout! and join, from waste & dwelling,
" The loud tumultuous agitation!
" Never can I see desolation,
" Never can I read sad decay
" In this lush season's manifestation,
" While thus I hear thy voice & say
" " Earth knows her circle meets the verge, —
" " She sings aloud her lamentation,
" " But soon the sigh that breathed a dirge,
" " Becomes a joyous acclamation!
" " Prophetic of the years to be;
" " Like the wild western war-chief sinking
" " Down to the death he views unblinking, —
" " Her dirge swells to a jubilee!
" " He for his happy hunting fields
" " Forgets the muttered chaunt, and yields
" " His ebbing life to exultation: —
" " In the proud anticipation
" " Shouting the glories of his nation;
" " Shouting the grandeur of his race;
" " Shouting his own great deeds of daring: —
" " And when at last death grasps his face,
" " And on the grass he lies in peace,
" " With all his painted terrors glaring, —
" " His tribes know well he leaves the place,
" " To [leaf torn ] father's in the chase.
" " And thou who makest the dead leaf soar,
" " And these sere startling hues to shake,
" " And shoutest with a sounding roar: —
" " Thy faith is firm, and well awake!
" " Thou can'st never be forlorn,
" " Mother of young Spring unborn.
" " But to a time thy steps do tend,
" " When that fair child will not be given: —
" " Remember then, all human end,
" " Is but the deathless dawn of Heaven.
" " Then like the princely savage, sum
" " The glory of thy deeds, & shout
" " Thy greatness to the great To-come,
" " And meet its hush without a doubt! —
" " Then, with thy loftiest voice arise,
" " And sing, as thou art singing now,
" " With inspiration in thine eyes,
" " And God's white hand upon thy brow!" "

And Joan again his arm did press,
And smiled assenting tenderness;
Half wondering in her mind, how he
From his first Pagan imagery,
And heathen impulses, should drop
On so correct a faith & hope,
And put it forth with such deep feeling,
And with such firm assurance name it,
And even as one inspired proclaim it;
The thing she trusted, nightly kneeling.

She press'd his arm, but spake no word;
One darkening dimple like a bird
Of twilight when the swallows twit,
Across her quiet face did flit
And flew away. Still loudly blowing
Sweeps the strong Wind with shock on shock,
Like to the sea against a rock,
When the close waves, their white peaks showing,
Mount each on each, & darkly dash
In the red tempest's pausing flash.

Aloud the full West Wind is a blowing!
Rushing, & wrestling, and overthrowing
The many arms of oak & lime
That catch him in his streaming course,
Seeking, in vain, to tame & time
His fury of resistless force.

Aloud the full West Wind is blowing!
And a deep warning voice he yields,
Dark & strange as the midnight lowing
Heard from glimmering starless fields
By those who in the gulfs of sleep
Awake and know not why they weep.

" And pipe aloud! and sealike heave
" Thy swelling gusts, " sings Willie, " pour
" Thy healthfulness for evermore
" Upon us! pipe, and pour, and cleave
" Unto us! ever grandly calling,
" And like a foamy cataract falling
" Rapidly, with a volumed roar.
" Stream on, and swell the fleets of cloud
" Up the gray Heavens! stream on, and shroud
" With darker hosts the sun behind.

" Breathe bare the soft pale yellow spaces
" In the far sky; breathe bare, half blind,
" The little breaks of blue whose traces
" Tint the cloud chasms remote; unwind
" The western gleams with crimson lined;
" And paint the ambient vaulted roof
" With colours varying as the woof
" Of wavering silks that, quivering, tremble
" With the quick lustres they dissemble.

" Pipe, pipe aloud! and pour, and stream,
" Bearing aloft the shifting gleam,
" And the low rolling splendour, bearing
" The wondrous mantle day is wearing;
" And such as never king of yore,
" From nation-shaking shoulders wore,
" Where on high festivals of state
" He strode like a robed & royal Fate.

" Pipe, pipe aloud, all earth enthroning!
" Lo! as a voice of measured moaning
" Haunting the mouths of cavernous mines
" Where precious darkness broods and pines, —
" Such mystery loads the distant droning
" Heard in the west, like mounting seas
" When hurricanes the waves upbraid;
" And loud as when the ear is laid
" Close to the buzz of vengeful bees.

" Pipe, pipe aloud! and give thy mission
" Word to man! — to me, to me!
" Give to my eyes the mighty vision
" Of thy vast Eternity!
" Sing in my ears the secret meaning
" Of thy voice the soul divines!
" Teach me to read the splendour shining
" In thy track! the mystic signs
" That speak to more than eye or ear:
" Dumb language traced in lustrous lines!
" The pageantries that roll revolving
" Each over each, far off & near:
" The presences they symbol clear,
" Unsolved themselves, all mystery solving!

" Take me, and make me even of those
" That are thy instruments! uniting
" With thy loud harmony that glows
" Out of thee! and in all delighting.

" O the great joy! to be a harp
" To every mood of Nature's mind!
" To feel her fingers thrilling sharp,
" Vibrate thro' all my being, and bind
" My spirit up in one sensation,
" Such as the tree thus takes the wind
" In tempestuous animation!
" Such as the sea in white vexation!
" Thou blindest the sun that he may pour
" His yellow floods on the western rim;

" Picturing the realms that know not him,
" The rich-veined depths of orbless ore;
" Where miser spirits rave and roam
" To bury their gold from the grovelling gnome.

" Thou paintest the colours of Romance
" In those long lines of dying light
" That gaze with such a mournful glance
" And into distance lead the sight;
" Lead it away thro' oblivious space,
" Into the lands of love and grace.

" But Thou! thy works reveal thee not:
" O Wind! thy works but serve to hide.
" Constant to all and to no spot,
" Meek, and yet of tameless pride.
" Urgent as some near[?] torrent tide;
" Gentle as love-breath, music-fraught.

" A Stranger & an Intimate
" A Friend, a Foe, a Chance, a Fate.

" If with a will thy works are done,
" All senses must thou have, or none.

" Thou art without; in all thy din
" Great as the mystery within.

" Time cannot touch thee, but sublime,
" Thou singest the Requiem of Time. "

He paused, as if his heart were eased;
And fixed his eyes on Joan: but swift
As clouds are scattered into drift,
Again he felt his being seized,
Crying —
" O world! such shouts & sounds
" Such clash and roar, such grand acclaim,
" Await, when from thy crumbling grounds
" Thou fallest, and thy shaken frame
" Fades from the banded seraphs singing
" Music of love! with pipe, and cymbal,
" Timbrel and harp! great rapture bringing!
" Compassed with clouds & lightnings nimble:
" Lightnings that coil like serpents tame,
" And quicken round the gloomy glory!
" Thunder, the crash of planets hoary,
" Gnashing together, until One Name,
" One name is heard! then soft & mellow,
" Mellow with subtle sweetness stealing
" O'er the still strings of buried feeling,
" Life will awake, and golden-yellow
" The Dawn will break, and golden-mute,
" More thrilling-strange than flute or lute,
" Green radiance on each dreaming grave
" Will fall, and each from its calm hollow,
" Rising, will call unto its fellow,
" And all will roll as one broad wave,
" Before the wind, towards the Throne,
" In homage to the Saviour Son,
" The eternal fount, the promised One! "

Again he paused: the listening tears
Were bright on Joan's brimming lid,
Where shone the buried hope of years;
And all for lack of language hid,
And one to summon it from its sleep:
An eye drown'd in religious bliss,
Like the moon in a smooth-rolling deep,
Gazed on him; and a trembling kiss
Fluttered across his mouth, as flees
A rose-leaf on the summer breeze.

This was her constant faith, in woe!
That souls unhappy here below,
And like to part — should meet again
Never to part, or suffer pain,
Childlike unto Christ, her look
Appealing dear the Lord who took
The little children to his knee,
Comforted her in her misery.

Often had Willie sung like this,
And fallen as oft from what he sung!
His faith was just a chrysalis,
That by impulsive life is sprung,
To gaudy wings, which seek straightway
What blossoms and what buds are out
By meadow trench or garden gay,
And while it finds them, cannot doubt
That Heaven a crowning world decreed; —
But when they bloom not, doubts indeed!

She knew the frequent strange confusion
In his mind; when, full of scoff,
The faith from which he'd fallen off,
He treated as a poor delusion:
Knew his weakness & his want;
For like a wreck he wandered here,
Nor anchor to hold, nor helm to steer,
His flag still flapping an idle taunt.

But none the less her love admired
These passionate bursts wherewith inspired,
He spake her trust, as dumb it knelt: —
More than she knew, yet all she felt!