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Songs of Womanhood

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

Uniform with this Volume.

REALMS OF UNKNOWN KINGS.

The Athenæum.—'In this volume the critic recognises with sudden joy the work of a true poet.'

The Saturday Review.—'It is a book in which deep feeling speaks ... and it has something of that essentially poetical thought, the thought that sees, which lies deeper than feeling.'

LONDON: GRANT RICHARDS.

Songs of Womanhood

BY

LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA

GRANT RICHARDS
48 LEICESTER SQUARE
LONDON
1903

Edinburgh: Printed by T. and A. Constable

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.

Contents

CHILDHOOD

King Baby

King Baby on his throne
Sits reigning O, sits reigning O!
King Baby on his throne
Sits 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,
[4] 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 throne
Sits reigning O, sits reigning O!
King Baby on his throne
Sits reigning all alone.

A Blessing for the Blessed[ToC]

When the sun has left the hill-top,
And the daisy-fringe is furled,
When the birds from wood and meadow
In their hidden nests are curled,
Then I think of all the babies
That are sleeping in the world....

There are babies in the high lands
And babies in the low,
There are pale ones wrapped in furry skins
On the margin of the snow,
And brown ones naked in the isles,
Where all the spices grow.

And some are in the palace
[6] On a white and downy bed,
And some are in the garret
With 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 beggars
Of 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 weep
In the silence of the night,
When Life has touched with many hues
Your souls now clear and white:

God save you, little children!
[7] And make your eyes to see
His finger pointing in the dark
Whatever you may be,
Till one and all, through Life and Death,
Pass to Eternity....

To Raoul Bouchard[ToC]

Dear were your kisses, baby boy,
Your weight upon my arm:
Gay were your tuneful cries of joy
As I danced you round the farm:
And sweet your softness when we lay
Laughing 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 men
Shall we two be as we were then.

Your feet have touched the ground, my bird,
[9] And now your wondering eyes
Will gaze no more as if they heard
A seraph in the skies:
A little boy, with leap and shout
You'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 spring
Still feel our babe return
In hallowed moments, such as shine
When thought or deed makes man divine.

To-day and To-morrow[ToC]

Little hands—what will you grasp
When you leave this nest, O?
Little arms—what will you clasp
Against 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 burn
Will 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[ToC]

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

The Little Sister[ToC]

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[ToC]

Baby moon, 'tis time for bed,
Owlet leaves his nest now;
Hide your little horned head
In the twilight west now;
When you're old and round and bright,
You shall stay and shine all night.

Baby girl is going too
In 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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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 fallen
From the ivy on the wall:
The dear blue eggs are broken,
All broken by the fall.

But we heard a song at sundown
That said: O tears are vain!—
And babe and I ceased grieving:
We think they will build again.

The Gravel Path[ToC]

Tiny mustn't frown
When 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[ToC]

Baby's got a new pelisse,
Very soft and very neat—
Like a lammy in her fleece
She'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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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 be
A silent gold-fish in the sea?

Gold-fish, gold-fish diving deep,
Are you never sad, say?
When you feel the cold waves creep
Are you really glad, say?
Don't you sometimes long to sing
And 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 grass
And 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 pray
At mother's knee for you;
Perhaps the angels with their wings
Will come and warm you, little things;
I'm sure that, if God knew,
He'd let the lambs be born in May.

The Robin[ToC]

When father takes his spade to dig,
Then Robin comes along;
He sits upon a little twig
And sings a little song.

Or, if the trees are rather far,
He does not stay alone,
But comes up close to where we are
And bobs upon a stone.

The Mouse[ToC]

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[ToC]

Bat, Bat, that flies at night
When angels' breath has blown the light,
When all the bees are hived in bed
And swallow sleeps with hidden head:
Songless bird! until this hour,
Among the bells in the ivied tower
Have 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 roam
In circles round their nestlings' home....

The Swallow[ToC]

O Swallow! if I had your wings
I would not stay below;
I'd leave off catching flies and things
And up to Heaven I'd go.

I'd sail above the tallest tree
That 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-day
For insects in the rain.

Snowdrops[ToC]

Little ladies, white and green,
With your spears about you,
Will you tell us where you've been
Since we lived without you?

You are sweet, and fresh, and clean,
With your pearly faces;
In the dark earth where you've been
There are wondrous places:

Yet you come again, serene,
When the leaves are hidden;
Bringing joy from where you've been
You return unbidden—

Little ladies, white and green,
[31] Are you glad to cheer us?
Hunger not for where you've been,
Stay till Spring be near us!

Frost[ToC]

The flowers in the garden
Are very cold at night;
When I look out of window
Their 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 naked
Beneath the windy trees;
Yet we should die, I know it,
With even a chemise....

Apples[ToC]

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[ToC]

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 boys
Are not so rich as me;
But O! I'd give them all my toys
For shells beside the sea....

II

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

Playgrounds[ToC]

In summer I am very glad
We children are so small,
For we can see a thousand things
That men can't see at all.

They don't know much about the moss
And all the stones they pass:
They never lie and play among
The forests in the grass:

They walk about a long way off;
And, when we're at the sea,
Let father stoop as best he can
He can't find things like me.

But, when the snow is on the ground
[37] And all the puddles freeze,
I wish that I were very tall,
High up above the trees....

Fairings[ToC]

O, Father has donned his suit of brown
And saddled the gelding gray,
And he's ridden off to London town
Where 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,
[39] And I think I heard her say:
'O bring me back a little white heart
Like the one I lost in May....'

The Flower to the Bud[ToC]

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 aspire
In 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 break
With the running of the sand—
Tiny heart beneath my hand?...

SIX SONGS OF GIRLHOOD

Love and the Maidens[ToC]

He seemed asleep; his wings were wet
With dew; he lay among the flowers,
Sweeter than Spring; his radiant curls
With primrose and with violet
Were crowned; and in a silent ring the girls
Watched, all an April morning's misty hours....

Not one dared wake him—yet each breast
Yearned to be pillow to a thing
So fair. 'How will he smile?' thought they,
'In waking?...' But between them pressed
One who with laughter bore the rogue away,
Ere they had touched a feather of his wing.

Awakenings[ToC]

The first time she awoke,
Her room was filled with light;
Thought she: They've made a little fire
To warm me through the night....

The next time she awoke,
Sweet music stirred the air;
Thought she: They've brought a magic lyre
To make my dreams more fair....

The third time she awoke,
The dawn-swept sky was gray;
Thought she: I know my heart's desire
Will come to me to-day....

But empty was the street,
[45] And ashen was the hearth;
And the music-maker's nimble feet
Were speeding o'er the earth.

The Clouded Soul[ToC]

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[ToC]

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[ToC]

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[ToC]

When she returned to the clouded land,
She held sweet flowers in her hand;
Her eyes were bright
With a beaming light
That none could understand.

Said they: Where, sister, hast thou been?
What hidden glory hast thou seen?
What magic sod
Has thy white foot trod;
What song-filled groves of green?

Said she: I followed across the plain
To 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

The Faithful Wife[ToC]

It was a banished chieftain
Returned from oversea,
And he saw his wife and children
Come 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 bluebell
Were 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 hand
[54] Where the golden rings shone gay;
He took her youngest on his arm
And joyful led the way.

'O fair are ye, my father's towers,
And sweet my garden dear:
God grant I never leave you more
Till Death o'ertake me here!'

The lights were burning in the hall,
As they sat them down to meat;
The pipers piped a merry tune
The 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-hound
That stood beside his knee.

'O, I am weary, wife, my wife,
[55] And the flames begin to pale;
Lead on, for I would sleep awhile
Before I tell my tale.'

She lifted the bright curtain
That led into her bower;
There came the tramp of parting feet
And 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,
[56] 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,
[57] Your father dear is found:
We four shall never sleep again
In the dark and heavy mound.'

'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,
'How shall that ever be?
We may not bide in the light of day
To 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 door
Of their unearthly feet....

He could not stir when she bent low
[58] To kiss him on the lips—
He could not raise, to hold her fast,
His anguished finger-tips;

But his heart against her silent breast
Beat loud in wild despair—
He heard the swaying of her skirt,
And his soul leapt forth in prayer.

. . . . .

A shepherd rose to call his sheep
When the morning sky was gray;
The owl flew back to the ruined tower—
He led his flock that way.

And lo! amid the scattered stones
That the foe had strewn around,
He saw his long-lost chieftain lie
A corpse upon the ground.

A smile was on his breathless lips,
[59] And he lay on the flowered sward,
Where his wife and babes had bled to death
Beneath a traitor's sword.

WOMANHOOD

A Woman to her Poet[ToC]

In three worlds King art thou of my desire,
O thou of many crowns! whose brow, birth-bound
With light, wears wisdom's diadem. Thou lyre
Of the speechless soul, in silence triple-crowned!
My love's proud empire smiles to know thee King;
And in the realms of Womanhood I wind
A coronet of Faith, a blood-rose ring
With azure chain of sapphire intertwined;
And where the mind's pure kingdom is, I seek
Bright crystals, pearls of Truth divine and rare
To honour thee; but on the aërial peak
That marks the Soul's eternal region—there
Thou thronest Monarch of a world serene,
Crowned with the emerald's unfathomed green.

The Infidel[ToC]

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 low
As any hillock; shallow rolls the sea
That 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 night
Environs me, thou banished; stretching wide
My arms, I grope for refuge; all my pain
Cries 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[ToC]

We love, and O! we know it; yet Love's name
Upon 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 eye
Beholds 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 sealed
By silence and the world's hard fetter. Dear
To me your being; yet we know nor fear
Of loss nor of possession; here's a shield
Shall part us nobly faithful to the end.

The Exile[ToC]

You too mistook me; for no man is wise
Whom Love enclouds. Nor soul-piercing nor keen
Your vision, else there never would have been
A cause for parting. Love-enwrapped, your eyes
Failed in my love Love's self to recognise:
You saw its outer garment, where the green
Of 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 forego
All that is sought of hand and lip, the whole
Of Love's poor joy. But I have need to know
That, when the heart fails, I may come and rest
My head upon your wide and sheltering breast.

The Scar Indelible[ToC]

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[ToC]

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.