Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . this your sole praise from a friend, Greatly his operas strains intend, But in music we know how fashions end ! I gave my youth—but we ride, in fine. IX Who knows whats fit for us ? Had fateProposed bliss here should sublimate 250 THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER My being ; had I signed the bond—Still one must lead some life beyond, —Have a bliss to die with, foot once planted on the goal,This glory-garland round my soul,Could I descry such ? Try and test!I sink back shuddering from the quest—Earth being so good, would Heaven
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . this your sole praise from a friend, Greatly his operas strains intend, But in music we know how fashions end ! I gave my youth—but we ride, in fine. IX Who knows whats fit for us ? Had fateProposed bliss here should sublimate 250 THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER My being ; had I signed the bond—Still one must lead some life beyond, —Have a bliss to die with, foot once planted on the goal,This glory-garland round my soul,Could I descry such ? Try and test!I sink back shuddering from the quest—Earth being so good, would Heaven seem best ? Now, Heaven and she are beyond this ride. X And yet—she has not spoke so long!What if Heaven be, that, fair and strongAt lifes best, with our eyes upturnedWhither lifes flower is first discerned, We, fixed so, ever should so abide ?What if we still ride on, we two,With life for ever old yet new,Changed not in kind but in instant made eternity,—And Heaven just prove that I and she Ride, ride together, for ever ride ? 251. (an old story) It was roses, roses, all the way. With myrtle mixed in my path like house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,A year ago on this very day! II The air broke into a mist with bells. The old walls rocked with the crowds and I said, Good folks, mere noise repels— But give me your sun from yonder skies ! They had answered, And afterward, what else ? I III Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun,To give it my loving friends to keep. Nought man could do, have I left undoneAnd you see my harvest, what I reap This very day, now a year is run. 252 THE PATRIOT IV Theres nobody on the house-tops now—Just a palsied few at the windows set— For the best of the sight is, all allow,At the Shambles Gate—or, better yet, By the very scaffolds foot, I trow. VI go in the rain, and, more than needs, A rope cuts both my wrists I think, by the feel, my forehea
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
