Whosoever thou art! Out in the evening roam, Out from thy room thou know'st in every part, And far in the dim distance leave thy home, Whosoever thou art. Lift thine eyes which lingering see The shadows on the foot-worn threshold fall, Lift thine eyes slowly to the great dark tree That stands against heaven, solitary, tall, And thou hast visioned Life, its meanings rise Like words that in the silence clearer grow; As they unfold before thy will to know Gently withdraw thine eyes-- THE NEIGHBOUR Strange violin! Dost thou follow me? In many foreign cities, far away, Thy lone voice spoke to me like memory. Do hundreds play thee, or does but one play? Are there in all great cities tempest-tossed Men who would seek the rivers but for thee, Who, but for thee, would be forever lost? Why drifts thy lonely voice always to me? Why am I the neighbour always Of those who force to sing thy trembling strings? Life is more heavy--thy song says-- Than the vast, heavy burden of all things. SONG OF THE STATUE Who so loveth me that he Will give his precious life for me? I shall be set free from the stone If some one drowns for me in the sea, I shall have life, life of my own,-- For life I ache. I long for the singing blood, The stone is so still and cold. I dream of life, life is good. Will no one love me and be bold And me awake? ------------------------------- I weep and weep alone, Weep always for my stone. What joy is my blood to me If it ripens like red wine? It cannot call back from the sea The life that was given for mine, Given for Love's sake. MAIDENS. I Others must by a long dark way Stray to the mystic bards, Or ask some one who has heard them sing Or touch the magic chords. Only the maidens question not The bridges that lead to Dream; Their luminous smiles are like strands of pearls On a silver vase agleam. The maidens' doors of Life lead out Where the song of the poet soars, And out beyond to the great world-- To the world beyond the doors. MAIDENS. II Maidens the poets learn from you to tell How solitary and remote you are, As night is lighted by one high bright star They draw light from the distance where you dwell. For poet you must always maiden be Even though his eyes the woman in you wake Wedding brocade your fragile wrists would break, Mysterious, elusive, from him flee. Within his garden let him wait alone Where benches stand expectant in the shade Within the chamber where the lyre was played Where he received you as the eternal One. Go! It grows dark--your voice and form no more His senses seek; he now no longer sees A white robe fluttering under dark beech trees Along the pathway where it gleamed before.