Songs of Womanhood

Songs of Womanhood

A great number of the following verses are already known to readers of The Herb o' Grace, and of the little reprint, Songs of Childhood. As these pamphlets, however, did not reach the public, it has been thought advisable to re-issue the verses in book-form, together with three or four more collected from various reviews, and a number that are here printed for the first time.

L.A.T.

CHILDHOOD

King Baby

King Baby on his throneSits reigning O, sits reigning O!King Baby on his throneSits reigning all alone.His throne is Mother's knee,So tender O, so tender O!His throne is Mother's knee,Where none may sit but he.His crown it is of gold,So curly O, so curly O!His crown it is of gold,In shining tendrils rolled.His kingdom is my heart,So loyal O, so loyal O!His kingdom is my heart,His own in every part.Divine are all his laws,So simple O, so simple O!Divine are all his laws,With Love for end and cause.King Baby on his throneSits reigning O, sits reigning O!King Baby on his throneSits reigning all alone.

A Blessing for the Blessed

When the sun has left the hill-top,And the daisy-fringe is furled,When the birds from wood and meadowIn their hidden nests are curled,Then I think of all the babiesThat are sleeping in the world…There are babies in the high landsAnd babies in the low,There are pale ones wrapped in furry skinsOn the margin of the snow,And brown ones naked in the isles,Where all the spices grow.And some are in the palaceOn a white and downy bed,And some are in the garretWith a clout beneath their head,And some are on the cold hard earth,Whose mothers have no bread.O little men and women,Dear flowers yet unblown!O little kings and beggarsOf the pageant yet unshown!Sleep soft and dream pale dreams now,To-morrow is your own…Though some shall walk in darkness,And others in the light,Though some shall smile and others weepIn the silence of the night,When Life has touched with many huesYour souls now clear and white:God save you, little children!And make your eyes to seeHis finger pointing in the darkWhatever you may be,Till one and all, through Life and Death,Pass to Eternity…

To Raoul Bouchard

Dear were your kisses, baby boy,Your weight upon my arm:Gay were your tuneful cries of joyAs I danced you round the farm:And sweet your softness when we layLaughing and cooing in the hay.The summer sun will shine again,Old arms will mow and reap;There'll be new flowers on the plain,New lambs among the sheep;But never in this world of menShall we two be as we were then.Your feet have touched the ground, my bird,And now your wondering eyesWill gaze no more as if they heardA seraph in the skies:A little boy, with leap and shoutYou'll wildly chase your dreams about.But when you are a man, soft thing,And life has made you stern,May we who watched you in your springStill feel our babe returnIn hallowed moments, such as shineWhen thought or deed makes man divine.

To-day and To-morrow

Little hands – what will you graspWhen you leave this nest, O?Little arms – what will you claspAgainst that tender breast, O?Cling to mother's finger, babe,Throw sweet arms about me!Here no noons may linger, babe,Soon you'll love without me.Little toes – where will you turn,East or south or west, O?Little feet – what sands that burnWill you soon have pressed, O?Lie on mother's knee, my own,Dance your heels about me!Apples leave the tree, my own,Soon you'll live without me…

The Nesting Hour

Robin-friend has gone to bed,Little wing to hide his head —Mother's bird must slumber tooJust as baby Robins do —When the stars begin to rise,Birds and babies close their eyes.

The Little Sister

Bath-time:

Baby's got no legs at all,They're soft and pinky, crumpled things;If he stood up he'd only fall:But then, you see, he's used to wings.

Bed-time:

Baby baby bye,Close your little eye!When the dark begins to creep,Tiny-wees must go to sleep.Lammy lammy lie,I am seven, I;Little boys must sleep and wait,If they want their bed-time late.Fidgy fidgy fie,There's no need to cry!Soon you'll never dress in white,But sit up working half the night…

A Twilight Song

Baby moon, 'tis time for bed,Owlet leaves his nest now;Hide your little horned headIn the twilight west now;When you're old and round and bright,You shall stay and shine all night.Baby girl is going tooIn her bed to creep now;She is little, just like you,Time it is to sleep now;When she's old and tired and wise,She'll be glad to close her eyes.

A Wintry Lullaby

Blow, wind, blow,The fields are white with snow —Sleeping daisies, deep and warm,Cannot hear the Winter storm.Freeze, air, freeze,The rime is on the trees —Sleeping buds within the bough,Dream of spring and cuckoos now.Turn, earth, turn,The flames of life do burn —Sleeping girl, my baby dove,Knows no world but mother's love.

The Warm Cradle

Hush, baby, hush,Sweet robin's in the bush —All the birdies lie so quiet,Won't my little dicky try it?Hush, baby, hush.Sleep, baby, sleep,The lammies love the sheep —Woolly babes all nestle cosy,Lie, my lambkin, warm and rosy,Sleep, baby, sleep.Dream, baby, dream,Our feet are in the stream —Stones below but stars above, child,Life is warm so long we love, child,Dream, baby, dream.

The Drooping Flower

Baby's rather ill to-night,Little face is long and white,Eyes are all too large and bright —What shall mother do now?Never leave him out of sight,Hold him warm and still and tight,Make him well with all her might,That's what she will do now.

Mothers in the Garden

I

Wagtail – pied Wagtail —What tremor's in your breast?On nimble feet, when we draw near,You run about to hide your fear,As if to say: There's nothing here,I have no nest…Wagtail – pied Wagtail —We too their voices heard;Away then to the water-side,And fetch the food for which they cried;From us there is no need to hide,My dainty bird.

II

The thrushes' nest has fallenFrom the ivy on the wall:The dear blue eggs are broken,All broken by the fall.But we heard a song at sundownThat said: O tears are vain! —And babe and I ceased grieving:We think they will build again.

The Gravel Path

Tiny mustn't frownWhen she tumbles down;If the wind should change – Ah me,What a face her face would be!Rub away the dirt,Say she wasn't hurt;What a world 'twould be – O my,If all who fell began to cry!

The New Pelisse

Baby's got a new pelisse,Very soft and very neat —Like a lammy in her fleeceShe's all white from head to feet.Thirty lambs each gave a curl,Mother sewed them, stitch by stitch —All to clothe a baby-girl:Don't you think she's very rich?

Solace

Whom does Miss belong to?Just to Mother, Mother only:That's whom Miss belongs to,– And Mother's never lonely.Whom's this little song to?Just to Baby, Baby only:That's whom little song's to,– And Baby's never lonely.

Strange Lands

Where do you come from, Mr. Jay? —'From the land of Play, from the land of Play.'And where can that be, Mr. Jay? —'Far away – far away.'Where do you come from, Mrs. Dove? —'From the land of Love, from the land of Love.'And how do you get there, Mrs. Dove? —'Look above – look above.'Where do you come from, Baby Miss? —'From the land of Bliss, from the land of Bliss.'And what is the way there, Baby Miss? —'Mother's kiss – mother's kiss.'

March Meadows

A Lark:

Lark-bird, lark-bird soaring high,Are you never weary?When you reach the empty sky,Are the clouds not dreary?Don't you sometimes long to beA silent gold-fish in the sea?Gold-fish, gold-fish diving deep,Are you never sad, say?When you feel the cold waves creepAre you really glad, say?Don't you sometimes long to singAnd be a lark-bird on the wing?

Lambs:

O little lambs! the month is cold,The sky is very gray;You shiver in the misty grassAnd bleat at all the winds that pass;Wait! when I'm big – some day —I'll build a roof to every fold.But now that I am small, I'll prayAt mother's knee for you;Perhaps the angels with their wingsWill come and warm you, little things;I'm sure that, if God knew,He'd let the lambs be born in May.

The Robin

When father takes his spade to dig,Then Robin comes along;He sits upon a little twigAnd sings a little song.Or, if the trees are rather far,He does not stay alone,But comes up close to where we areAnd bobs upon a stone.

The Mouse

Little Master Mouse,You'd better leave this house;Crumbs are scarce upon the floor,And pussy sleeps behind the door.Mousie soft and grey,I wish you'd run away!Cook will catch you in a trap,And mice mayn't sit in mother's lap…

The Bat

Bat, Bat, that flies at nightWhen angels' breath has blown the light,When all the bees are hived in bedAnd swallow sleeps with hidden head:Songless bird! until this hour,Among the bells in the ivied towerHave you hung dreaming in your house?Are you a living wingèd mouse? —Bat, Bat, I often doubt;And when I see you flit about,I wonder if the dead birds roamIn circles round their nestlings' home…

The Swallow

O Swallow! if I had your wingsI would not stay below;I'd leave off catching flies and thingsAnd up to Heaven I'd go.I'd sail above the tallest treeThat waves its arms on high;Beyond the furthest cloud we see,And deeper than the sky.Perhaps, when live birds find the way,They're all sent down again,And that is why you dive to-dayFor insects in the rain.

Snowdrops

Little ladies, white and green,With your spears about you,Will you tell us where you've beenSince we lived without you?You are sweet, and fresh, and clean,With your pearly faces;In the dark earth where you've beenThere are wondrous places:Yet you come again, serene,When the leaves are hidden;Bringing joy from where you've beenYou return unbidden —Little ladies, white and green,Are you glad to cheer us?Hunger not for where you've been,Stay till Spring be near us!

Frost

The flowers in the gardenAre very cold at night;When I look out of windowTheir beds are hard and white.The primrose and the scilla,The merry crocus too —O Jane! if we were flowers,What should we children do?We'd have to sleep all nakedBeneath the windy trees;Yet we should die, I know it,With even a chemise…

Apples

Red cheeks, red cheeks,Will you play with me?No boy, pale boy,I want to climb that tree.Red cheeks, red cheeks,You will tumble down —No boy, pale boy,I'll eat the apples brown.Red cheeks, red cheeks,Barns are best for rain —No boy, pale boy,I'll soon be down again.

Lonely Children

I

The trees are dusty in the Park,The grass is hard and brown;I'm glad I've got a Noah's ark,But I'm sorry I'm in town.A lot of little girls and boysAre not so rich as me;But O! I'd give them all my toysFor shells beside the sea…

II

The flowers are happy in the garden,For the bees are always there;The clouds are happy up in HeavenWith the angels in the air;But little boy and little mouseAre rather lonely in the house.

Playgrounds

In summer I am very gladWe children are so small,For we can see a thousand thingsThat men can't see at all.They don't know much about the mossAnd all the stones they pass:They never lie and play amongThe forests in the grass:They walk about a long way off;And, when we're at the sea,Let father stoop as best he canHe can't find things like me.But, when the snow is on the groundAnd all the puddles freeze,I wish that I were very tall,High up above the trees…

Fairings

O, Father has donned his suit of brownAnd saddled the gelding gray,And he's ridden off to London townWhere the streets are fine and gay.And Mother has asked for a yard of lace,And Kate for a kerchief new,And Moll for a mirror to look at her face,And Bessie for beads, all blue;And Dick has been promised a kite so tall,And Jamie a leathern whip,And Baby shall play with a painted ball,And O! I have asked for a ship! —But our eldest sister stood apart,And I think I heard her say:'O bring me back a little white heartLike the one I lost in May…'

The Flower to the Bud

Tiny heart beneath my hand,Say, what treasures will you hold?O, what blossom will unfold,Late to bloom, or soon to fade,From this bud, my baby-maid?Through what shallows will you wade,To what heights will you aspireIn your spirit's white desire?Will you mar or will you make?Will you give or will you take?Will you glow or will you breakWith the running of the sand —Tiny heart beneath my hand?..

SIX SONGS OF GIRLHOOD

Love and the Maidens

He seemed asleep; his wings were wetWith dew; he lay among the flowers,Sweeter than Spring; his radiant curlsWith primrose and with violetWere crowned; and in a silent ring the girlsWatched, all an April morning's misty hours…Not one dared wake him – yet each breastYearned to be pillow to a thingSo fair. 'How will he smile?' thought they,'In waking?..' But between them pressedOne who with laughter bore the rogue away,Ere they had touched a feather of his wing.

Awakenings

The first time she awoke,Her room was filled with light;Thought she: They've made a little fireTo warm me through the night…The next time she awoke,Sweet music stirred the air;Thought she: They've brought a magic lyreTo make my dreams more fair…The third time she awoke,The dawn-swept sky was gray;Thought she: I know my heart's desireWill come to me to-day…But empty was the street,And ashen was the hearth;And the music-maker's nimble feetWere speeding o'er the earth.

The Clouded Soul

O what have you done with your heart, daughter,And what have you done to your soul, my dear?Your heart was like a lily in June,And your soul as a crystal clear…O, I've thrown my heart in a well, mother,For the lily was sick, and needed rain:O, I've wept a cloud round my soul, mother,And we never shall see it again…

The Healer

O will you have my heart, sweet maid,My heart so true, my heart so red?O will you have my heart, dear maid,And give me yours instead?O keep your heart, my good young man,For mine is wounded, deep and sore;O keep your heart, my kind young man,For mine shall love no more…

The Open Door

Why have you locked the door, my maid,Why have you locked the door?O! I have let Grief out, she said,Never to enter more.Open and set it wide, my maid,Open and set it wide!Lest Joy should come one day, he said,And have to stand outside.

The Fugitive

When she returned to the clouded land,She held sweet flowers in her hand;Her eyes were brightWith a beaming lightThat none could understand.Said they: Where, sister, hast thou been?What hidden glory hast thou seen?What magic sodHas thy white foot trod;What song-filled groves of green?Said she: I followed across the plainTo the gates of Love, to the gates of Pain:By one, by two,All the rest went through:But I came back again…

THE FAITHFUL WIFE

It was a banished chieftainReturned from oversea,And he saw his wife and childrenCome smiling o'er the lea.The moon had wrapped them in her beams,The wind was in their hair,Their feet that trod the wild bluebellWere light as wings on air.'O have you come to meet me, wife,As you once did swear to do?Full seven years have I been gone,And was your word so true?'He took her by the white cool handWhere the golden rings shone gay;He took her youngest on his armAnd joyful led the way.'O fair are ye, my father's towers,And sweet my garden dear:God grant I never leave you moreTill Death o'ertake me here!'The lights were burning in the hall,As they sat them down to meat;The pipers piped a merry tuneThe while their lord did eat.He looked to right, he looked to left,And a happy man was he,As he stroked the head of the good gre-houndThat stood beside his knee.'O, I am weary, wife, my wife,And the flames begin to pale;Lead on, for I would sleep awhileBefore I tell my tale.'She lifted the bright curtainThat led into her bower;There came the tramp of parting feetAnd silence held the tower.'O wife, how long have I been gone?The room smells of roses still —O wife, our babes are very young,Their limbs are cold and chill…'She folded up their raiment small,She smiled but said no word:She laid her children in one bed,Then came beside her lord.He could not sleep, he could not wake,But lay in silence there;His dear wife held him by the hand,He felt her wind-blown hair —'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,'Why must we sleep so soon?The sun is hidden down below,I still can see the moon.''Be quiet, be quiet, my little child,And watch the moonbeams creep;To-night you may not play about,For your father lies asleep.''O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,'It is not time for bed!Where have you put my little lid?I cannot hide my head.''Lie still, lie still, my tiny child,Your father dear is found:We four shall never sleep againIn the dark and heavy mound.''O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,'How shall that ever be?We may not bide in the light of dayTo watch upon the lea.''No need, no need, my pretty child,For your father dear has come;We'll kiss him once, we'll kiss him twice,Then seek our own far home.'He heard them laugh with baby joy,He felt their kisses sweet,He heard the patter to the doorOf their unearthly feet…He could not stir when she bent lowTo kiss him on the lips —He could not raise, to hold her fast,His anguished finger-tips;But his heart against her silent breastBeat loud in wild despair —He heard the swaying of her skirt,And his soul leapt forth in prayer.A shepherd rose to call his sheepWhen the morning sky was gray;The owl flew back to the ruined tower —He led his flock that way.And lo! amid the scattered stonesThat the foe had strewn around,He saw his long-lost chieftain lieA corpse upon the ground.A smile was on his breathless lips,And he lay on the flowered sward,Where his wife and babes had bled to deathBeneath a traitor's sword.

WOMANHOOD

A Woman to her Poet

In three worlds King art thou of my desire,O thou of many crowns! whose brow, birth-boundWith light, wears wisdom's diadem. Thou lyreOf the speechless soul, in silence triple-crowned!My love's proud empire smiles to know thee King;And in the realms of Womanhood I windA coronet of Faith, a blood-rose ringWith azure chain of sapphire intertwined;And where the mind's pure kingdom is, I seekBright crystals, pearls of Truth divine and rareTo honour thee; but on the aërial peakThat marks the Soul's eternal region – thereThou thronest Monarch of a world serene,Crowned with the emerald's unfathomed green.

The Infidel

My soul at times, outworn by length of woe,A strange appeasement seeks in doubting thee,And cries: My sacred mount's a thing as lowAs any hillock; shallow rolls the seaThat should have quenched my deep unbounded thirst;My star's a lamp that flickers earthly light;Mere surf-worn glass my emerald; why burst,O heart! for love of these? – Then, fullest nightEnvirons me, thou banished; stretching wideMy arms, I grope for refuge; all my painCries babe-like for a breast whereon to hide,And on to thine I fling myself again…Thus fools, impatient of God's silence, cry:There is no God! – and seek what they deny.

Love Within Vows

We love, and O! we know it; yet Love's nameUpon our lips a tremulous wish must die;We both were made for loving, you and I,And still was Love denied. To both it came,More fleeting than the beauty of a flame:Now each within the other's hungering eyeBeholds the corse of Joy embalmèd lie,And smiles to know his penury the same.There is no sorrow in this love, O Friend,New-sprung from ruin, tho' our lips be sealedBy silence and the world's hard fetter. DearTo me your being; yet we know nor fearOf loss nor of possession; here's a shieldShall part us nobly faithful to the end.

The Exile

You too mistook me; for no man is wiseWhom Love enclouds. Nor soul-piercing nor keenYour vision, else there never would have beenA cause for parting. Love-enwrapped, your eyesFailed in my love Love's self to recognise:You saw its outer garment, where the greenOf perfect faith was marred by passion's sheen,By outworn patience and desire's disguise.Had you but read me to the inner soul,You would have held me fast. I can foregoAll that is sought of hand and lip, the wholeOf Love's poor joy. But I have need to knowThat, when the heart fails, I may come and restMy head upon your wide and sheltering breast.

The Scar Indelible

O your voice, your voice in the night!How shall I wipe your voice from the night?Only Hope could wipe it away —And you have driven Hope away.O your eyes, your eyes in my sight!How shall I hide your eyes from my sight?Only Joy could hide them away,And you have driven Joy away.O your name, your name in the light!How shall I thrust your name from the light?Only Love could thrust it away,And you have driven Love away.

Revulsion

My heart is weary of Love and Hate:Too sick of its Love to love you still,Too sick of its Hate to hate you yet —My heart is weary and would forget.O give me nothing! 'Tis far too late:Your much were little my thirst to fill,Your little were scorn of Faith so deep —O give me nothing! – and let me sleep.

The Captive

I want to take my heart away,Break it away from the branch where it clings;I want to quit the barren sprayWhere now no throstle sings.The butterflies have long since gone,Gone to the bough where the gay blossoms are;The sinking sun now bears the dawnTo other lands afar.I want to break my heart away,Tear it away from the bough where it grows;O for the light of a free new day,On the hill beyond the snows!

Possession's Anguish

One tree in my garden, one treeOut of all the forests of the world:One little ship afloat upon the sea,One shell beneath the waves, flawless and pearled:One rose on my bower, one roseFor a day to scatter on the grass:One shifting star agleam where the wind blows,One gem upheld, that all may share who pass:One heart to be ached for, one heartOut of all the bosoms that are here:One fragile hope alive, the starver's part,One joy already faint and pale with fear:One flame in the darkness, one flameFor the night to sever with a breath:One poor faith fettered to a mortal name —And over all, the beating wings of death…

Treasures of Poverty

I sometimes watch the lips of other womenAnd think of all the kisses they have known;I sometimes touch the hands of other womenIn wonder at the memoried palms they own…The kiss upon my brow was sadly given,The hands I held but once were not my own;And yet I would not change what I was givenFor all the kisses I have never known…Nor would I change again my heart's white desert;O wondrous are the meetings I have known,And strange the eyes that seek me in the desert,Then smiling vanish to rejoin their own…

Solitude

Now empty lies the house. The languid airUnstirred by voices creeps from room to room;No footstep falls upon the silent stair,All's still and dark. In every nook the tombOf some thought lies; remembrance everywhereLingers to seek a joy no longer there;And, as I sit here lonely in the gloom,I ask myself which evil I would choose:Never to have, or else to have, and lose.

The Heart Asleep

Within me now my heart's asleepAnd none shall wake it more;The silence of all pain is deepWithin me. Now my heart's asleep,It dreams of joys it might not keep;And nothing looks beforeWithin me now. My heart's asleepAnd none shall wake it more.

Adversity

Black winds of the world!There is pity in your breath,Against wild tempest weaponing.Grey clouds of the sky!You are gentle in your shade,Against night-darkness tempering.Red wounds of the heart!There is mercy in your blood,Against hope-murder hardening.Pale swoons of the soul!You are tender in your pangsAgainst dire death emboldening.

Faces of the Dead

I dreamed that, wandering by a river's bank,I came across a lonely ship that sankIn lifeless waters. Day was dim; – in dreamsWe see nor sun, nor moon; unearthly gleamsOf deadened light fall strangely from the sky. —There were but three that struggled not to die:A man, a woman, and a tender child;He sought to save them both with effort wildAnd dragged his love to the entangled shore;But down the slimy weeds she slid once moreInto the water, and her lover's breastReceived her, and together they found rest.The child was saved; my hand towards her handOutstretched, drew all her sweetness to the land,Where naked, like a lily wet with rain,She sank and loudly wept at her life's gain.Quite small she was, and light; I bore her fastTo what seemed home, and there she smiled at lastAnd sat upright within my arms; I foundA bright-hued veil wherein to wrap her round,Tissues that far in morning-lands were spunBy those who love the flowers and the sun.I laid her softly in a silken bed,Strewed fragrant violets about her headAnd left her.'Twas my dream then that I slept.But when at dawn unto her bed I crept,The child was lost. Her pillow was all wetWith tears that still flowed on; and faster yetThey flowed in quickening rills, until I thoughtI stood beside a torrent wide that soughtAn unknown sea. The day was sad, tho' young;Upon a misty branch some bird had sungAnd left a trembling silence; all aroundI saw the little daisies on the groundFast closed, with folded arm-petals in vainShielding their yellow hearts from the cold rain.– A voice invisible made murmur then:'Come here and look upon these poor drowned men!The ship was sunk a year ago to-day…'But I stepped back and shuddering turned away,For I had never seen the face of Death.Yet Fear itself soon drew me with quick breathBack to the place, even to the river's brinkWhere I had seen that lonely vessel sink.And there in waters deep I saw them lie,With hands at rest and eyes that sought the sky:Clear eyes wide open to an unseen day.In wondrous silence motionless they lay,With white lips smiling on their spirit's bliss.'Is Death but this?' I cried, 'no more but this?'And answer came: 'Among those faces thereAre all unknown?''Twas then I saw him, fairWith perfect peace, my enemy, even heOf all the world who most had tortured me.He lay there, blessed among the blessed, and smiledWith eyes more pure than any wakening child.The little waves in passing – like the breezeThat stirs the foliage of the unmoved trees —Played in their hair, and fluttering grasses roseAnd fell and danced about their mute repose.But I gazed on until I too had drunkOf their lips' joy, until their peace had sunkInto my troubling earth-stirred heart that achedTo join them … and then waked…