أنت هنا

قراءة كتاب Ioläus The man that was a ghost

تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"

‏اللغة: English
Ioläus
The man that was a ghost

Ioläus The man that was a ghost

تقييمك:
0
لا توجد اصوات
المؤلف:
دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 1


IOLÄUS

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

A SON OF CAIN: POEMS. Cr. 8vo. 3/6 net.

IN THE WAKE OF THE PHŒNIX: POEMS. F'cap. 8vo. 3/6 net.

IOLÄUS:

THE MAN THAT WAS A GHOST

BY

JAMES A. MACKERETH

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK, BOMBAY AND CALCUTTA

1913


TO THE MEMORY OF
MY FRIEND
ARTHUR RANSOM


HAIL AND FAREWELL

To A.R.

We range the ringing slopes of life; but you
Scale the last summit, high in lonelier air,
Whose dizzy pinnacle each soul must dare
For valedictions born and ventures new.
From dust to spirit climb, O brave and true!
Strong in the wisdom that is more than prayer;
High o'er the mists of pain and of despair,
Mount to the vision, and the far adieu.
Merged in the vastness, with a calm surmise
Mount, lonely climber, brightened from afar;
Whose soul is secret as the evening-star;
Whose steps are toward the ultimate surprise:
No dubious morrow dims those daring eyes—
Divinely lit whence truth's horizons are.


The sonnets in this volume have previously appeared in the columns of "The Academy," "The Eye-Witness," and "The Yorkshire Observer." My thanks are due to the Editors of these publications for their kind permission to republish.

J.A.M.

Stocka House,
Cottingley,
Bingley.


Title Poem: Page
Ioläus 13
Sonnets:
The Return 67
The Soul and the Sea 69
Nations Estranged 71
The Passing-Bell 73
Condemned 75
To America. I. 77
"    II. 79
To Italy. I. 81
"    II. 83

IOLÄUS:

THE MAN THAT WAS A GHOST

Gold light across the golden coomb;
The sun went west with horns of fire;
Athwart the sweet, sea-breathing room
The swallows swooped; the village spire
Glowed red against a gleam of broom;
While earth its scented secrets told,
There, silent, sunset-aureoled,
Sat Ioläus, mild and old.
In distance large the moving ships
Sailed on into the evening skies.
He gazed, and saw not. In eclipse
He tensely sat, like one who grips
Some semblance that his dream descries,
With such a look of far surprise
That half-uncanny seemed the man,
So warped with age, so weirdly wan:
He had such ghostly eyes.
Then half to self, and half to me,
Aloof in passion and lone despair,
He spoke like one whose secrets flee
From silence unaware:
Now plaintively from a grief gone blind,
Heavy with cumbering care,
Now, thrilling thought like a white sea-wind,
His words, the echoes of his mind,
Haunted the air:
... 'Tis gone like the roses of long ago:
Yet a dawn's impassioned thrill
Makes blush the blossom's virgin snow
Far on in a faery hill.
Two faces there in the glamour glow
In a place that is strangely still.
On the rim of the world is a ruined tower
Sky-poised above wide sea-foam,
Where a beautiful spirit waits hour by hour,
Far-eyed 'gainst a dawn like a phantom flower,
Till a ghostly lover comes home....
To leeward spread the freshening deep
Purple beneath a rosy gleam.
From a high, mist-engirdled steep
Thin anthems to the orient beam
Came faint as languid waves of sleep

الصفحات