The Earth Gods

The gods are on the mountain, they
Have sat together in a ring
For a night and for a day
Talking over everything.

Talking over many things.
All the gods are sitting there,
And from every forehead springs
A fiery plume upon the air.

Forty feet into the air
The flames are roaring, and the sky
Meets the marble brows of care,
As they talk of you and I.

While they talk of you and I
Do not make a sound, be still,
Hide among the leaves and fly
From the gods upon the hill.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Hesperus

(After Sappho)

Upon the sober sky thy robes are spread,
They drape the twilight, veil on quiet veil,
Until the lingering daylight all has fled
Before thee, modest goddess, shadowpale :
The hushed and reverent sky
Her diadem of stars has lifted high.

The tender lamb, the bleating kid, the fawn,
All that the sunburnt day has scattered wide,
Thou dost regather, holding till the dawn
Each flower and tree and beast unto thy side :
The sheep come to the pen,
The dreams come to the men,
And to the mother's breast
The tired child doth come and take his rest.

Evening gathers everything
Scattered by the morning,
Fold for sheep and nest for wing,
Evening gathers everything,
Child to mother, queen to king
Running at thy warning ;
Evening gathers everything
Scattered by the morning.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

A Tune On A Reed

I

I have a pipe of oaten straw,
I play upon it when I may,
And the music that I draw
Is as happy as the day.

It has seven holes, and I
Play upon it high and low ;
I can make it laugh and cry,
I can make it banish woe.

Any tune you like to name
I will play it at the word,
Old or new is all the same,
I'm as ready as a bird.

No one pipes so happily,
Not a piper can succeed
When I lean against a tree
Blowing gently on my reed.

II

But there is a tune, and though
I try to play it day and night,
Blowing high and blowing low,
I can never get it right.

I know the tune without a flaw,
And yet that tune I cannot play
On my pipe of oaten straw,
Though I practise night and day.

It seems to me I never will
Play again the happy air
Which I heard upon a hill
When the Shee were dancing there.
Little pipe ! be good to me !

And play the tune I want to play,
Or I will smash you on a tree,
And throw your wicked halves away.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Market

A man came to me at the fair
And said, " If you've a poet's tongue
Tumble up and chant the air
That the stars of morning sung.

"I'll pay you, if you sing it nice,
A penny-piece."—I answered flat,
" Sixpence is the proper price
For a ballad such as that."

But he stared and wagged his head,
Growling as he passed along,
"Sixpence ! well, I'll see you dead
Before I pay that for a song."

I saw him buy three pints of stout
With the sixpence—dirty lout !

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Independence

I grew single and sure,
And I will not endure
That my mind should be seen
By the sage or the boor.

I will keep, if I can,
From each brotherly man :
The help of their hands
Is no part of my plan.

I will rise then and go
To the land of my foe,
For his scowl is the sun
That shall cause me to grow.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Wild Man

Where the stars are singing high
In their mighty dwellings, I
Have a habitation too,
And I slip away from you,
In the night-time or the day,
And you don't know I'm away.

I can go out when I please,
I can soar upon a breeze,
I can dodge from any eye,
I can straddle on the sky,
I can run away and be
Gone while you are watching me.

Where the stars go shouting by
In the heavens, there am I,
Leaping like a goat upon
Jupiter and Orion :
Then what do I care for thee
Who are always watching me.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Twins

Good and bad are in my heart,
But I cannot tell to you
(For they never are apart)
Which is stronger of the two.

I am this, I am the other,
And the devil is my brother.
But my father He is God,
And my mother is the sod ;
Therefore, I am safe, you see,
Owing to my pedigree.

So I shelter love and hate
Like twin brothers in a nest,
Lest I find when it's too late
That the other was the best.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Waste Places

I

As a naked man I go
Through the desert sore afraid,
Holding up my head, although
I am as frightened as a maid.

The couching lion there I saw
From barren rocks lift up his eye,
He parts the cactus with his paw,
He stares at me as I go by.

He would follow on my trace
If he knew I was afraid,
If he knew my hardy face
Hides the terrors of a maid.

In the night he rises, and
He stretches forth, he snuffs the air,
He roars and leaps along the sand,
He creeps and watches everywhere.

His burning eyes, his eyes of bale,
Through the darkness I can see ;
He lashes fiercely with his tail,
He would love to spring at me.

I am the lion in his lair,
I am the fear that frightens me,
I am the desert of despair,
And the nights of agony.

Night or day, whate'er befall,
I must walk that desert land,
Until I can dare to call
The lion out to lick my hand.

II

As a naked man I tread
The gloomy forests, ring on ring,
Where the sun that's overhead
Cannot see what's happening.

There I go : the deepest shade,
The deepest silence pressing me,
And my heart is more afraid
Than a maiden's heart would be.

Every day I have to run
Underneath the demon tree,
Where the ancient wrong is done,
While I shrink in agony.

There the demon held a maid
In his arms, and as she, daft,
Screamed again in fear he laid
His lips upon her lips and laughed.

And she beckoned me to run,
And she called for help to me.
And the ancient wrong was done
Which is done eternally.

I am the maiden and the fear,
I am the sunless shade, the strife,
I the demon lips, the sneer
Showing under every life.

I must tread that gloomy way
Until I shall dare to run
And bear the demon with his prey
From the forest to the sun.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Washed In Silver

Gleaming in silver are the hills,
Blazing in silver is the sea,
And a silvery radiance spills
Where the moon drives royally.
Clad in silver tissue I

March magnificently by.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Voice Of God

I bent again unto the ground,
And I heard the quiet sound
Which the grasses make when they
Come up laughing from the clay.

"We are the voice of God," they said
Thereupon I bent my head
Down again that I might see
If they truly spoke to me.

But around me everywhere
Grass and tree and mountain were
Thundering in mighty glee,
"We are the voice of Deity."

And I leapt from where I lay,
I danced upon the laughing clay,
And, to the rock that sang beside,
"We are the voice of God," I cried.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Centaurs

Playing upon the hill three centaurs were !
They lifted each a hoof and stared at me,
And stamped upon the dust.

They stamped the dust, they snuffed upon the air,
And all their movements had the fierce glee
Of power and pride and lust.

Of power and pride and lust ! then with a shout
They tossed their heads and wheeled and galloped round
In furious brotherhood.

In furious brotherhood, around, about,
They charged, they swerved, they leaped ; then, bound on bound,
They raced into the wood.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Lark

There is a small bird cowering in the dark ;
His wing is broken, he will never sing;
He will not sing again, the little lark
That has a broken wing.

The lark that cowers with a broken wing
Is all alone ; his mate has gone away ;
To-morrow in the fields his mate will sing
Her merry lay.

His mate will sing again her merry lay
In the green fields, forgetting he is gone;
But he will never rouse a sunny day
Again for any one.

He will not sing again for any one ;
The wing is broken of that little lark ;
His song is broken, and his heart is gone
There in the dark.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Snare

To A. E.

I hear a sudden cry of pain !
There is a rabbit in a snare :
Now I hear the cry again,
But I cannot tell from where.

But I cannot tell from where
He is calling out for aid ;
Crying on the frightened air,
Making everything afraid.

Making everything afraid,
Wrinkling up his little face,
As he cries again for aid ;
And I cannot find the place !

And I cannot find the place
Where his paw is in the snare :
Little one ! Oh, little one !
I am searching everywhere.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Cage

It tried to get from out the cage ;
Here and there it ran, and tried
At the edges and the side,
In a busy, timid rage.

Trying yet to find the key
Into freedom, trying yet,
In a timid rage, to get
To its old tranquillity.

It did not know, it did not see,
It did not turn an eye, or care
That a man was watching there
While it raged so timidly.

It ran without a sound, it tried,
In a busy, timid rage,
To escape from out the cage
By the edges and the side.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Barbarians

I pause beside the stream and hear
The waters talking all the way ;
If I had a proper ear
I could tell you what they say.

The lovely tree against the sky,
Which the first sun rests upon.
Has a message for my eye,
If I had a proper one.

On the heath I met a wind,
It whispered to me as I stood ;
If I had a proper mind
I could answer, so I could.

I am deaf and dumb and blind,
No reply can I invent
When a stream, a tree, a wind
Asks am I intelligent.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Masterless Man

Now it is my turn to sing
In the service of the spring ;
I must lift a note and call
Bird and beast to madrigal.

But on mountain, peak, and shelf,
Over wood and plain and glade,
Spring is singing for herself,
She can do without my aid.

She can do without my aid !
So I need not sing to you :
Singing is my only trade !
What the deuce am I to do ?

Songs From The Clay [1915]

The Buds

I can see
The buds have come again
On every tree.

Through some dear intercourse of sun and dew,
And thrilling root, and folding earth, anew
They come in beauty.

They up to the sun,
As on a breast, are lifting every one
Their leaves.

Under the eaves
The sparrows are in hiding
Making love.

There is a chatter in the woods above,
Where the black crow
Is saying what his sweetheart wants to know.

The sun is shining fair,
And the green is on the tree,
And the wind goes everywhere
Whispering so secretly ;
You will die unless you do
Find a mate to whisper to.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Green Broughs

Birds were singing everywhere
In the sunny spaces,
Blackbird, thrush, and linnet were
Flashing through the flashing air
Full of airs and graces.

Up and down and round about,
Soaring, gliding, swinging,
Darting in and scudding out,
While through all the pretty rout
Came their frantic singing.

And upon the sunny view
Happy trees were holding
Pretty baby leaves anew,
Freshly bathed in the dew,
For the sun's beholding.

Loud he shouted through the plain
(Golden-voiced and glad he),
Dance them up with might and main,
Toss the baby leaves again
Till they see their daddy.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

As Evening Falls

At eve the horse is freed of plough or wain,
And all things turn from labour unto rest ;
The scattered sheep are gathering home again,
And every bird is winging to its nest;
And every beast goes to his den once more
By hedge or hill. Each mother is aware
That little feet
Have paused in field or street,
And she will hear a knocking at the door

And open it, and see her children there.

Songs From The Clay [1915]

Blue Stars And Gold

While walking through the trams and cars
I chanced to look up at the sky,
And saw that it was full of stars.

So starry-sown that you could not,
With any care, have stuck a pin
Through any single vacant spot.

And some were shining furiously,
And some were big and some were small,
But all were beautiful to see.

Blue stars and gold, a sky of grey,
The air between a velvet pall ;
I could not take my eyes away.

And there I sang this little psalm
Most awkwardly, because I was
Standing between a car and tram.

Songs From The Clay [1915]