The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume II., by Jean Ingelow

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Title: Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume II.

Author: Jean Ingelow

Release Date: August 19, 2004 [EBook #13224]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS BY JEAN INGELOW, II ***

Produced by Juliet Sutherland and PG Distributed Proofreaders

[Illustration: MISS INGELOW'S FORMER HOME.

BOSTON, LINCOLNSHIRE, ENG.

ST. BOTOLPH'S CHURCH IN THE DISTANCE.]

POEMS BY JEAN INGELOW

VOLUME II.

_TO JEAN INGELOW.

When youth was high, and life was new
And days sped musical and fleet,
She stood amid the morning dew,
And sang her earliest measures sweet,—
Sang as the lark sings, speeding fair
To touch and taste the purer air,
To gain a nearer view of Heaven;
'Twas then she sang "The Songs of Seven."

Now, farther on in womanhood,
With trainèd voice and ripened art,
She gently stands where once she stood,
And sings from out her deeper heart.
Sing on, dear Singer! sing again;
And we will listen to the strain,
Till soaring earth greets bending Heaven,
And seven-fold songs grow seventy-seven.

SUSAN COOLIDGE_

POEMS

BY

JEAN INGELOW

IN TWO VOLUMES

VOL. II.

BOSTON

ROBERTS BROTHERS

1896

AUTHOR'S COMPLETE EDITION.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

ROSAMUND ECHO AND THE FERRY PRELUDES TO A PENNY READING KISMET DORA SPERANZA THE BEGINNING IN THE NURSERY THE AUSTRALIAN BELL-BIRD LOSS AND WASTE ON A PICTURE THE SLEEP OF SIGISMUND A MAID-MARTYR A VINE-ARBOUR IN THE FAR WEST LOVERS AT THE LAKE SIDE THE WHITE MOON AN ARROW-SLIT WENDOVER THE LOVER PLEADS SONG IN THREE PARTS 'IF I FORGET THEE, O JERUSALEM' NATURE, FOR NATURE'S SAKE PERDITA

SERIOUS POEMS, AND SONGS AND POEMS OF LOVE AND CHILDHOOD.

LETTERS ON LIFE AND THE MORNING THE MONITIONS OF THE UNSEEN THE SHEPHERD LADY

POEMS ON THE DEATHS OF THREE CHILDREN. HENRY SAMUEL KATIE

THE SNOWDROP MONUMENT (IN LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL)

HYMNS. THE MEASURELESS GULFS OF AIR ARE FULL OF THEE THOU WERT FAR OFF AND IN THE SIGHT OF HEAVEN THICK ORCHARDS ALL IN WHITE SWEET ARE HIS WAYS WHO RULES ABOVE O NIGHT OF NIGHTS DEAR IS THE LOST WIFE TO A LONE MAN'S HEART WEEPING AND WAILING NEEDS MUST BE JESUS, THE LAMB OF GOD THOU HAST BEEN ALWAY GOOD TO ME THOU THAT SLEEPEST NOT AFRAID NOW WINTER PAST, THE WHITE-THORN BOWER SUCH AS HAVE NOT GOLD TO BRING THEE A MORN OF GUILT, AN HOUR OF DOOM MARY OF MAGDALA WOULD I, TO SAVE MY DEAR CHILD?

AT ONE AGAIN

SONNETS. FANCY COMPENSATION LOOKING DOWN WORK WISHING TO —— ON THE BORDERS OF CANNOCK CHASE AN ANCIENT CHESS KING COMFORT IN THE NIGHT THOUGH ALL GREAT DEEDS A SNOW MOUNTAIN SLEEP PROMISING LOVE FAILURE

A BIRTHDAY WALK NOT IN VAIN I WAITED A GLEANING SONG WITH A DIAMOND MARRIED LOVERS A WINTER SONG BINDING SHEAVES THE MARINER'S CAVE A REVERIE DEFTON WOOD THE LONG WHITE SEAM AN OLD WIFE'S SONG COLD AND QUIET SLEDGE BELLS MIDSUMMER NIGHT, NOT DARK, NOT LIGHT THE BRIDEGROOM TO HIS BRIDE THE FAIRY WOMAN'S SONG ABOVE THE CLOUDS SLEEP AND TIME BEES AND OTHER-FELLOW-CREATURES THE GYPSY'S SELLING SONG A WOOING SONG A COURTING SONG LOVE'S THREAD OF GOLD THE LEAVES OF LIGN ALOES THE DAYS WITHOUT ALLOY FEATHERS AND MOSS ON THE ROCKS BY ABERDEEN LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT SONG FOR A BABE GIVE US LOVE AND GIVE US PEACE

THE TWO MARGARETS MARGARET BY THE MERE SIDE MARGARET IN THE XEBEC

A STORY OF DOOM

POEMS

ROSAMUND.

His blew His winds, and they were scattered.

'One soweth and another reapeth.'
                                     Ay,
Too true, too true. One soweth—unaware
Cometh a reaper stealthily while he dreams—
Bindeth the golden sheaf, and in his bosom
As 't were between the dewfall and the dawn
Bears it away. Who other was to blame?
Is it I? Is it I?—No verily, not I,
'T was a good action, and I smart therefore;
Oblivion of a righteous enmity
Wrought me this wrong. I pay with my self ruth
That I had ruth toward mine enemy;
It needed not to slay mine enemy,
Only to let him lie and succourless
Drift to the foot o' the Everlasting Throne;
Being mine enemy, he had not accused
One of my nation there of unkind deeds
Or ought the way of war forbids.
                                  Let be!
I will not think upon it. Yet she was—
O, she was dear; my dutiful, dear child.
One soweth—Nay, but I will tell this out,
The first fyte was the best, I call it such
For now as some old song men think on it.

I dwell where England narrows running north;
And while our hay was cut came rumours up
Humming and swarming round our heads like bees:

'Drake from the bay of Cadiz hath come home,
And they are forth, the Spaniards with a force
Invincible.'
                'The Prince of Parma, couched
At Dunkirk, e'en by torchlight makes to toil
His shipwright thousands—thousands in the ports
Of Flanders and Brabant. An hundred hendes
Transports to his great squadron adding, all
For our confusion.'
                      'England's great ally
Henry of France, by insurrection fallen,
Of him the said Prince Parma mocking cries,
He shall not help the Queen of England now
Not even with his tears, more needing them
To weep his own misfortune.'
                               Was that all
The truth? Not half, and yet it was enough
(Albeit not half that half was well believed),
For all the land stirred in the half belief
As dreamers stir about to wake; and now
Comes the Queen's message, all her lieges bid
To rise, 'lieftenants, and the better sort
Of gentlemen' whereby the Queen's grace meant,
As it may seem the sort that willed to rise
And arm, and come to aid her.
                                  Distance wrought
Safety for us, my neighbours and near friends,
The peril lay along our channel coast
And marked the city, undefended fair
Rich London. O to think of Spanish mail
Ringing—of riotous conquerors in her street,
Chasing and frighting (would there were no more
To think on) her fair wives and her fair maids.
—But hope is fain to deem them forth of