Owlet sat, so quiet and good,

At the edge of Yarner Wood,

While a mother owl hard by

Sought his supper silently.

Sudden came two hideous screams,

Wakened owlet from his dreams;

Down the road, on unseen wing,

Swept a vast and awful thing.

Twice he heard the monster shriek,

Saw its head and shining beak

Twixt huge eyes, that burned the night,

Brighter than the moon was bright.

Hooting horribly it fled--

Where the water-meadows spread.

"He will catch," thought owlet now,

"That red thing they call the cow."

Came his parent presently:

Heard him squeak with fearful glee,

"Mother dear, I've seen and heard

Such a devil of a bird!"

THE SEA SCOUTS

While all alone I wandered

At even by the sea,

Where winds and water pondered

Of how they came to be;

Where kittiwakes were crying

And salty spindrift flying

Through daylight slowly dying

A Shape confronted me.

She faced the broad Atlantic--

That maid of stately mien,

Purer than foam, gigantic

As Amazonian Queen.

Her billowy robe, unknowing,

How wild the wind was blowing,

Showed not a throb or flowing,

Hung steady and serene.

It was no fellow being

For she stood ten feet high,

And seaward gazed, unseeing

The human passer-by;

But only billows roaming,

And wide-winged sea-fowl homing

Through crepuscule and gloaming

Beneath an ashen sky.

The spectre rose before me

Most woeful, wan and white

Upon that foreshore stormy

Between the day and night;

And such an apparition

In this unique position,

Despite her sad condition

Awoke my wild delight.

Then came three youthful creatures,

And them I bade with awe

Behold the mournful features

Of phantom on the shore.

They laughed and said she'd drifted

To land with bosom rifted--

A figure-head uplifted

From wreck of "Margery Dawe."

They dared, those sea-scout shavers

Who watched this lonely coast,

Assert in treble quavers

We stood before a post;

They treated as a fiction

My gratified conviction

That, in her pale affliction,

We'd met a salt-sea ghost!

Thus hard-eyed youth advances

By shadowless, stark way

Our middle-aged romances

To slight and scorn and slay;

Our make-believe to tatter;

Our gallant dreams to scatter;

To flout our faiths and shatter

Our twilight in their day.

SONG FOR THE SPHERES

A drop of fire from a flying sun--

Sing, old stars, the World's begun.

An ocean warm where electrons strive--

Sing, old stars, the World's alive.

Age upon age and link upon link--

Shout, old stars, the World can think.

War's red knife hisses home to the haft--

Mourn, old stars, the World runs daft.

Reason and Love shall conquer and reign--

Sing, old stars, the World grows sane.

Liberty, Liberty, Liberty!

Shout, old stars, the World is free.

THE CIRCLE

When shepherd darkness folds the fading day

And faints the West beneath the world's wide brim,

There stands a brotherhood, remote and dim,

Of cowled and hooded wights rolled up in granite grey.

Spirits of dusk from out a far-off prime

Beyond the shadowy pale of bygone eld,

Immutable and constant and unquelled,

They hold their everlasting state and tryst with Time.

These stones have seen the red-eyed wolf pack throng

To slay the fleeting elk upon the waste,

And they have marked the cave bear's clumsy haste,

Shuffling great golden furse and ragged rocks among.

O cirque, what meanest thou? Sepulchral lore,

Or ritual of the quick? Did thirsty god

Drink blood of sacrifice upon this sod?

Art thou a temple wrought for deities of yore?

What dread, what joy, what Neolithic rule,

What shouts of agony or pæans of praise

Awoke, ye stones, the morning of your days?

They answer not, but seek the shadowy crepuscule.

The Stone Man lifted them; his hairy hand

They felt and knew, when Night's eternal brow

Gleamed with another diadem than now

Ere Egypt's mountain graves pressed on the desert sand.

Bowed but enduring, Time hath failed to break

That emblem of eternity they trace

Upon the bosom of this desolate place;

And holy shall it be for their most ancient sake.

They have withdrawn upon the unseen light

Of immemorial time; the vanished past

Receives them once again to haunt her vast--

A sanctity beyond wild Chaos and old Night.

TO ANTHEA'S BOSOM

When that I went, a little lad, to school--

One half a cherub and one half a fool--

The weary pedant dinned upon my ears

That all the world is but two hemispheres.

Maybe I doubted then, for I was born

To laugh the wisdom of the wise to scorn;

But now, indeed, most surely it appears

That all the world is but two hemispheres.

DUST