A CLUSTER OF GRAPES

A BOOK OF TWENTIETH CENTURY POETRY

By

GALLOWAY KYLE

"Hee doth not onely shew the way, as will entice anie man to enter into it: nay he doth as if your journey should lye through a faire vineyard, at the verie first, give you a cluster of grapes, that full of that taste, you may long to passe further."

LONDON: ERSKINE MACDONALD
1914

The contents of this volume are copyright and may not be reproduced without the permission of the respective authors and publishers.

PREFACE

If the existence and contents of this book require any explanation, the compiler may adopt the words of a famous defender of poetry:

"Hee doth not onely shew the way but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way as will entice anie man into it.

"Nay, hee doth as if your journey should lye through a faire Vineyard, at the verie first give you a cluster of Grapes that full of that taste you may long to passe further. He beginneth not with obscure definitions, which must blurre the margent with interpretations and loade the memorie with doubtfulnesse, but hee cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with or prepared for the well-enchanting skill of musicke, and with a tale forsoothe he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and olde men from the chimney-corner, and pretending no more, doth intend the winning of the minde from wickedness to vertue."

These excellent words of Sir Philip Sidney give the reason and scope of this collection of examples of the poetry of the present century. No attempt at arbitrary classification or labelling has been made; it is not intended to show that any poet, deliberately or otherwise, is a Neo-Symbolist or Paroxyst or is afflicted with any other 'ist or 'ism; it is not compiled to assert that any one group of poets is superior to any other group of poets or to poets who had the misfortune to have their corporeal existence cut short before the dawn of the twentieth century; it is not even intended to prove that good poetry is written in our time. All such purposes and particularly the latter are superfluous and may be left to dogmatic disputants who have little care for the grace and harmony of poetry.

The scheme of the Anthology is simple and without guile. It does not presuppose an abrupt period, but for the sake of convenience and in justification of its existence includes only the work of living writers produced during the present century and therefore most likely to be representative of the poetry of to-day. No editorial credit can be claimed for the selections; they are not the reflex of one individual's taste and preferences, but have been made by the writers themselves, to whom—and their respective publishers—for their cordial co-operation the collator of this distinctive volume is exceedingly grateful, not on his own account only but also on behalf of those readers to whom this volume will open out so fair a prospect that they will long to pass further, this "cluster of grapes" being one of the "lures immortal" for the rapidly increasing number of discriminating lovers of the high poetry that is the touchstone of beauty. The finest lyric work of our day needs no further introduction; the poet is his own best interpreter; but it may be added, in anticipation of adventitious criticism of the limitations of these examples, that the capacity of the present volume and the absence abroad of some potential contributors account for the non-inclusion of certain writers who otherwise would have been represented here.

GALLOWAY KYLE.

May, 1914.

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND CONTENTS

  • A.E.:
    • Collected Poems (Macmillan), 1913.
      • Reconciliation[1]
      • The Man to the Angel[2]
      • Babylon[3]
  • ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON:
    • Le Cahier Jaune (privately printed), 1892. Poems, 1893; Lyrics, 1895; Lord Vyet, and other Poems, 1897; The Professor and other Poems, 1900; Peace and other Poems, 1905; Collected Poems (John Lane, The Bodley Head), 1909.
      • Making Haste[5]
      • At Eventide[6]
      • In a College Garden[7]
  • ANNA BUNSTON (Mrs de Bary):
    • Leaves from a Woman's Manuscript, 1904 (out of print); Mingled Wine (Longmans), 1909; The Porch of Paradise (Herbert & Daniel), 1911; Songs of God and Man (Herbert & Daniel), 1912; Letters of a Schoolma'am (Dent), 1913; Jephthah's Daughter (Erskine MacDonald), 1914; Mingled Wine (Cheaper re-issue, Erskine MacDonald), 1914.
      • A Mortgaged Inheritance[8]
      • The Wilderness[9]
      • Under a Wiltshire Apple Tree[11]
  • G. K. CHESTERTON:
    • (b. 1873). Poems in Novels and the Commonwealth, the New Witness, etc.; The Wild Knight and other Poems (Richards), 1900; Browning, in "English Men of Letters" (Macmillan), 1903; Ballad of the White Horse (Methuen), 1911.
      • Sonnet with the Compliments of the Season[13]
      • When I came back to Fleet Street[14]
      • The Truce of Christmas[17]
  • FRANCES CORNFORD:
    • Poems (Bowes & Bowes, Cambridge), 1910. Death and the Princess, a Morality (Bowes & Bowes), 1913.
      • The Princess and the Gypsies[19]
      • The Dandelion[22]
      • Social Intercourse[23]
  • WALTER DE LA MARE:
    • (b. 1873). Songs of Childhood (Longmans), 1902; Henry Brocken (Murray), 1904; Poems, 1906: The Three Mulla Malgars (Duckworth); The Return (Arnold), 1910; The Listeners and other Poems (Constable), 1911; Peacock Pie (Constable), 1913.
  • JOHN GALSWORTHY:
    • (b. 1867). Novels, Studies, and Verse; Villa Rubein, 1901; The Island Pharisees, 1904; The Man of Property, 1906; The Country House, 1907; A Commentary, 1908; Fraternity, 1909; A Motley, 1910; The Patrician, 1911; The Inn of Tranquillity; and Moods, Songs and Doggerels, 1913; The Dark Flower (Heinemann), 1913; Plays: Vol. I, The Silver Box; Joy; Strife, 1909. Vol. II, Justice; The Little Dream; The Eldest Son, 1912. Vol. III, The Fugitive; The Pigeon; The Mob, 1914.
  • EVA GORE-BOOTH:
    • Poems (Longmans, Green & Co.), 1898; Unseen Kings (Longmans), 1904; The One and the Many (Longmans), 1904; The Three Resurrections and the Triumph of Maeve (Longmans), 1905; The Sorrowful Princess (Longmans), 1907; The Egyptian Pillar (Maunsel & Co., Dublin), 1907; The Agate Lamp (Longmans), 1912.
      • Maeve of the Battles[29]
      • Re-Incarnation[31]
      • Leonardo Da Vinci[34]
  • JOHN GURDON:
    • Erinna, a Tragedy (Edward Arnold), 1913; Dramatic Lyrics (Elkin Matthews), 1906; Enchantments (Erskine Macdonald), 1912.
  • THOMAS HARDY:
    • (b. 1840). Wessex Poems, 1898; Poems of the Past and Present, 1901; The Dynasts; An Epic Drama, Part I, 1903-4; Part II, 1906; Part III, 1908; Time's Laughing Stocks and other Verses (Macmillan), 1910.
      • A Trampwoman's Tragedy[42]
      • Chorus from "The Dynasts" (Part III)[47]
      • The Ballad Singer[49]
  • RALPH HODGSON:
    • Contributions to the Saturday Review; Flying Fame Chap Books.
  • W. G. HOLE:
    • Procris and other Poems (Paul); Amoris Imago (Paul); Poems, Lyrical and Dramatic (Matthews), 1902; Queen Elizabeth, An Historical Drama (Geo. Bell & Sons), 1904; New Poems (Geo. Bell & Sons), 1907; The Chained Titan (Geo. Bell & Sons,) 1910; The Master: A Poetical Play in Two Acts (Erskine Macdonald), 1913.
      • Roosevelt-Village Street[54]
      • The Haunted Fields[58]
      • Captive in London Town[60]
  • LAURENCE HOUSMAN:
    • (b. 1867). Mendicant Rimes; Selected Poems (Sidgwick & Jackson).
  • EMILIA S. LORIMER:
    • Songs of Alban (Constable), 1912.
  • JAMES A. MACKERETH:
    • In Grasmere Vale and other Poems, 1907; The Cry on the Mountain, 1908; When We Dreamers Wake, a Drama for To-day (Nutt), 1909; A Son of Cain and other Poems (Longmans), 1910; In the Wake of the Phœnix (Longmans), 1911; On the Face of a Star (Longmans), 1913.
      • To a Blackbird on New Year's Day[66]
      • La Danseuse[68]
      • God Returns[70]
  • ALICE MEYNELL:
    • Poems (Collected Edition), 1913. Essays (selected from The Rhythm of Life, etc.) (Burns & Oates), 1914.
  • WILL H. OGILVIE:
    • The Overlander; The Land we Love; Whaup o' the Rede (Thomas Fraser, Dalbeattie); Rainbows and Witches (Elkin Matthews); Fair Girls and Grey Horses; Hearts of Gold (Angus & Robertson, Australia).
      • There's a Clean Wind Blowing[75]
      • The Garden of the Night[76]
      • The Crossing Swords[79]
  • STEPHEN PHILLIPS:
    • Eremus (Paul), 1894; Christ in Hades (Matthews), 1896; Poems, 1897; Paolo and Francesca, 1899; Marpessa, 1900; Herod, 1900; Ulysses, 1902; Nero, 1906; The New Inferno, 1910; New Poems, Lyrics and Dramas (John Lane), 1913.
      • Lures Immortal[80]
      • Beautiful lie the Dead[82]
      • Lyric from "The Sin of David"[83]
  • EDEN PHILLPOTTS:
    • Many novels: Dance of the Months; Sketches of Dartmoor and Poems (Gowans & Gray), 1911; The Iscariot, a Poem (Murray), 1912; Up-Along and Down-Along (Methuen), 1905; Wild Fruit (John Lane), 1911.
  • DORA SIGERSON SHORTER:
    • Verses, 1894; The Fairy Changeling, and other Poems, 1897; My Lady's Slipper and other Poems, 1898; Ballads and Poems, 1899; The Father Confessor, 1900; The Woman who went to Hell, 1902; As the Sparks fly Upward, 1904; The Story and Song of Earl Roderick, 1906; Collected Poems, 1909; The Troubadour, 1910; New Poems, 1912; Madge Linsey and other Poems (Maunsel, Dublin), 1913.
      • The Watcher in the Wood[88]
      • The Nameless One[89]
      • When I shall Rise[91]
  • ARTHUR SYMONS:
    • Images of Good and Evil, 1900; Poems, 1901; The Fool of the World and other Poems, 1906; The Knave of Hearts (Heinemann), 1913; Cities of Italy, 1908; The Romantic Movement in English Poetry, 1909.
      • Tanagra[92]
      • Giovanni Malatesta at Rimini[93]
      • La Melinite: Moulin Rouge[95]
  • EVELYN UNDERHILL:
    • Immanence, A Book of Verses (J. M. Dent & Sons), 1912; Mysticism; The Mystic Way.
  • MARGARET L. WOODS:
    • Poems, Collected Edition (John Lane), 1913.

Æ

[ ]

RECONCILIATION

I begin through the grass once again to be bound to the Lord;

I can see, through a face that has faded, the face full of rest

Of the earth, of the mother, my heart with her heart in accord,

As I lie mid the cool green tresses that mantle her breast

I begin with the grass once again to be bound to the Lord.

By the hand of a child I am led to the throne of the King

For a touch that now fevers me not is forgotten and far,

And His infinite sceptred hands that sway us can bring

Me in dreams from the laugh of a child to the song of a star.

On the laugh of a child I am borne to the joy of the King.

[ ]

THE MAN TO THE ANGEL

I have wept a million tears:

Pure and proud one, where are thine,

What the gain though all thy years

In unbroken beauty shine?

All your beauty cannot win

Truth we learn in pain and sighs:

You can never enter in

To the circle of the wise.

They are but the slaves of light

Who have never known the gloom,

And between the dark and bright

Willed in freedom their own doom.

Think not in your pureness there,

That our pain but follows sin:

There are fires for those who dare

Seek the throne of might to win.

Pure one, from your pride refrain:

Dark and lost amid the strife

I am myriad years of pain

Nearer to the fount of life.

When defiance fierce is thrown

At the god to whom you bow,

Rest the lips of the Unknown

Tenderest upon my brow.

[ ]

BABYLON

The blue dusk ran between the streets: my love was winged within my mind,

It left to-day and yesterday and thrice a thousand years behind.

To-day was past and dead for me, for from to-day my feet had run

Through thrice a thousand years to walk the ways of ancient Babylon.

On temple top and palace roof the burnished gold flung back the rays

Of a red sunset that was dead and lost beyond a million days.

The tower of heaven turns darker blue, a starry sparkle now begins;

The mystery and magnificence, the myriad beauty and the sins

Come back to me. I walk beneath the shadowy multitude of towers;

Within the gloom the fountain jets its pallid mist in lily flowers.

The waters lull me and the scent of many gardens, and I hear

Familiar voices, and the voice I love is whispering in my ear.

Oh real as in dream all this; and then a hand on mine is laid:

The wave of phantom time withdraws; and that young Babylonian maid,

One drop of beauty left behind from all the flowing of that tide,

Is looking with the self-same eyes, and here in Ireland by my side.

Oh light our life in Babylon, but Babylon has taken wings,

While we are in the calm and proud procession of eternal things.

ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON

[ ]

MAKING HASTE

"Soon!" says the Snowdrop, and smiles at the motherly earth,

"Soon!—for the Spring with her languors comes stealthily on

Snow was my cradle, and chill winds sang at my birth;

Winter is over—and I must make haste to be gone!"

"Soon," says the Swallow, and dips to the wind-ruffled stream,

"Grain is all garnered—the Summer is over and done;

Bleak to the eastward the icy battalions gleam,

Summer is over—and I must make haste to be gone!"

"Soon—ah, too soon!" says the Soul, with a pitiful gaze,

"Soon!—for I rose like a star, and for aye would have shone!

See the pale shuddering dawn, that must wither my rays,

Leaps from the mountains—and I must make haste to be gone!"

[ ]

AT EVENTIDE

At morn I saw the level plain

So rich and small beneath my feet,

A sapphire sea without a stain,

And fields of golden-waving wheat;

Lingering I said, "At noon I'll be

At peace by that sweet-scented tide.

How far, how fair my course shall be,

Before I come to the Eventide!"

Where is it fled, that radiant plain?

I stumble now in miry ways;

Dark clouds drift landward, big with rain,

And lonely moors their summits raise.

On, on with hurrying feet I range,

And left and right in the dumb hillside

Grey gorges open, drear and strange,

And so I come to the Eventide!

[ ]

IN A COLLEGE GARDEN

Birds, that cry so loud in the old, green bowery garden,

Your song is of Love! Love! Love!

Will ye weary not nor cease?

For the loveless soul grows sick, the heart that the grey days harden;

I know too well that ye love! I would ye should hold your peace.

I too have seen Love rise, like a star; I have marked his setting;

I dreamed in my folly and pride that Life without Love were peace.

But if Love should await me yet, in the land of sleep and forgetting—

Ah, bird, could you sing me this, I would not your song should cease!

ANNA BUNSTON (Mrs de BARY)

[ ]

A MORTGAGED INHERITANCE

I knew a land whose streams did wind

More winningly than these,

Where finer shadows played behind

The clean-stemmed beechen trees.

The maidens there were deeper eyed,

The lads more swift and fair,

And angels walked at each one's side—

Would God that I were there!

Here daffodils are dressed in gold,

But there they wore the sun,

And here the blooms are bought and sold,

But there God gave each one.

There all roads led to fairyland

That here do lead to care,

And stars were lamps on Heaven's strand—

Would God, that I were there!

Here worship crawls upon her course

That there with larks would cope,

And here her voice with doubt is hoarse

That there was sweet with hope.

O land of Peace! my spirit dies

For thy once tasted air,

O earliest loss! O latest prize!

Would God that I were there!

[ ]

THE WILDERNESS

From Life's enchantments,

Desire of place,

From lust of getting

Turn thou away, and set thy face

Toward the wilderness.

The tents of Jacob

As valleys spread,

As goodly cedars,

Or fair lign aloes, white and red,

Shall share thy wilderness.

With awful judgments,

The law, the rod,

With soft allurements

And comfortable words, will God

Pass o'er the wilderness.

The bitter waters

Are healed and sweet,

The ample heavens

Pour angel's bread about thy feet

Throughout the wilderness.

And Carmel's glory

Thou thoughtest gone,

And Sharon's roses,

The excellency of Lebanon

Delight thy wilderness.

Who passeth Jordan

Perfumed with myrrh,

With myrrh and incense?

Lo! on his arm Love leadeth her

Who trod the wilderness.

[ ]

UNDER A WILTSHIRE APPLE TREE

Some folks as can afford,

So I've heard say,

Sets up a sort of cross

Right in the garden way

To mind 'em of the Lord.

But I, when I do see

Thic apple tree

An' stoopin' limb

All spread wi' moss,

I think of Him

And how he talks wi' me.

I think of God

And how he trod

That garden long ago:

He walked, I reckon, to and fro

And then sat down

Upon the groun'

Or some low limb

What suited Him

Same as you see

On many a tree,

And on this very one

Where I at set o' sun

Do sit and talk wi' He.

An' mornings, too, I rise an' come

An' sit down where the branch be low;

A bird do sing, a bee do hum,

The flowers in the border blow,

An' all my heart's so glad an' clear

As pools be when the sun do peer:

As pools a laughin' in the light

When mornin' air is swep' an' bright,

As pools what got all Heaven in sight

So's my heart's cheer

When He be near.

He never pushed the garden door,

He left no footmark on the floor;

I never heard 'Un stir nor tread

An' yet His Hand do bless my head,

And when 'tis time for work to start

I takes Him with me in my heart.

And when I die, pray God I see

At very last thic apple tree

An' stoopin' limb,

An' think o' Him

And all He been to me.

G. K. CHESTERTON

[ ]

SONNET WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON
(To a popular leader, to be congratulated on the avoidance of a strike at Christmas.)

I know you. You will hail the huge release,

Saying the sheathing of a thousand swords,

In silence and injustice, well accords

With Christmas bells. And you will gild with grease

The papers, the employers, the police,

And vomit up the void your windy words

To your new Christ; who bears no whip of cords

For them that traffic in the doves of peace.

The feast of friends, the candle-fruited tree,

I have not failed to honour. And I say

It would be better for such men as we

And we be nearer Bethlehem, if we lay

Shot dead on snows scarlet for Liberty,

Dead in the daylight; upon Christmas Day.

[ ]

WHEN I CAME BACK TO FLEET STREET

When I came back to Fleet Street,

Through a sunset-nook at night,

And saw the old Green Dragon

With the windows all alight,

And hailed the old Green Dragon

And the Cock I used to know,

Where all the good fellows were my friends

A little while ago.

I had been long in meadows,

And the trees took hold of me,

And the still towns in the beech-woods,

Where men were meant to be;

But old things held; the laughter,

The long unnatural night,

And all the truth the talk in hell,

And all the lies they write.

For I came back to Fleet Street,

And not in peace I came;

A cloven pride was in my heart,

And half my love was shame.

I came to fight in fairy tale,

Whose end shall no man know—

To fight the old Green Dragon

Until the Cock shall crow!

Under the broad bright windows

Of men I serve no more,