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Viewed across the dark space wherein I have lacked you？
Summer gave us sweets； but autumn wrought division？
Things were not lastly as firstly well
With us twain； you tell？
But all's closed now； despite Time's derision。
I see what you are doing： you are leading me on
To the spots we knew when we haunted here together；
The waterfall； above which the mist…bow shone
At the then fair hour in the then fair weather；
And the cave just under； with a voice still so hollow
That it seems to call out to me from forty years ago；
When you were all aglow；
And not the thin ghost that I now frailly follow！
Ignorant of what there is flitting here to see；
The waked birds preen and the seals flop lazily；
Soon you will have； Dear； to vanish from me；
For the stars close their shutters and the dawn whitens hazily。
Trust me； I mind not； though Life lours；
The bringing me here； nay； bring me here again！
I am just the same as when
Our days were a joy； and our paths through flowers。
PENTARGAN BAY。
A DEATH…DAY RECALLED
Beeny did not quiver；
Juliot grew not gray；
Thin Valency's river
Held its wonted way。
Bos seemed not to utter
Dimmest note of dirge；
Targan mouth a mutter
To its creamy surge。
Yet though these； unheeding；
Listless； passed the hour
Of her spirit's speeding；
She had； in her flower；
Sought and loved the places …
Much and often pined
For their lonely faces
When in towns confined。
Why did not Valency
In his purl deplore
One whose haunts were whence he
Drew his limpid store？
Why did Bos not thunder；
Targan apprehend
Body and breath were sunder
Of their former friend？
BEENY CLIFF
March 1870March 1913
I
O the opal and the sapphire of that wandering western sea；
And the woman riding high above with bright hair flapping free …
The woman whom I loved so； and who loyally loved me。
II
The pale mews plained below us； and the waves seemed far away
In a nether sky； engrossed in saying their ceaseless babbling say；
As we laughed light…heartedly aloft on that clear…sunned March day。
III
A little cloud then cloaked us； and there flew an irised rain；
And the Atlantic dyed its levels with a dull misfeatured stain；
And then the sun burst out again； and purples prinked the main。
IV
Still in all its chasmal beauty bulks old Beeny to the sky；
And shall she and I not go there once again now March is nigh；
And the sweet things said in that March say anew there by and by？
V
What if still in chasmal beauty looms that wild weird western shore；
The woman now iselsewherewhom the ambling pony bore；
And nor knows nor cares for Beeny； and will see it nevermore。
AT CASTLE BOTEREL
As I drive to the junction of lane and highway；
And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette；
I look behind at the fading byway；
And see on its slope； now glistening wet；
Distinctly yet
Myself and a girlish form benighted
In dry March weather。 We climb the road
Beside a chaise。 We had just alighted
To ease the sturdy pony's load
When he sighed and slowed。
What we did as we climbed； and what we talked of
Matters not much； nor to what it led； …
Something that life will not be balked of
Without rude reason till hope is dead；
And feeling fled。
It filled but a minute。 But was there ever
A time of such quality； since or before；
In that hill's story？ To one mind never；
Though it has been climbed； foot…swift； foot…sore；
By thousands more。
Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border；
And much have they faced there； first and last；
Of the transitory in Earth's long order；
But what they record in colour and cast
Isthat we two passed。
And to me； though Time's unflinching rigour；
In mindless rote； has ruled from sight
The substance now； one phantom figure
Remains on the slope； as when that night
Saw us alight。
I look and see it there； shrinking； shrinking；
I look back at it amid the rain
For the very last time； for my sand is sinking；
And I shall traverse old love's domain
Never again。
March 1913。
PLACES
Nobody says： Ah； that is the place
Where chanced； in the hollow of years ago；
What none of the Three Towns cared to know
The birth of a little girl of grace …
The sweetest the house saw； first or last；
Yet it was so
On that day long past。
Nobody thinks： There； there she lay
In a room by the Hoe； like the bud of a flower；
And listened； just after the bedtime hour；
To the stammering chimes that used to play
The quaint Old Hundred…and…Thirteenth tune
In Saint Andrew's tower
Night； morn； and noon。
Nobody calls to mind that here
Upon Boterel Hill； where the carters skid；
With cheeks whose airy flush outbid
Fresh fruit in bloom； and free of fear；
She cantered down； as if she must fall
（Though she never did）；
To the charm of all。
Nay： one there is to whom these things；
That nobody else's mind calls back；
Have a savour that scenes in being lack；
And a presence more than the actual brings；
To whom to…day is beneaped and stale；
And its urgent clack
But a vapid tale。
PLYMOUTH； March 1913。
THE PHANTOM HORSEWOMAN
I
Queer are the ways of a man I know：
He comes and stands
In a careworn craze；
And looks at the sands
And the seaward haze；
With moveless hands
And face and gaze；
Then turns to go 。 。 。
And what does he see when he gazes so？
II
They say he sees as an instant thing
More clear than to…day；
A sweet soft scene
That once was in play
By that briny green；
Yes； notes alway
Warm； real； and keen；
What his back years bring …
A phantom of his own figuring。
III
Of this vision of his they might say more：
Not only there
Does he see this sight；
But everywhere
In his brainday； night；
As if on the air
It were drawn rose bright …
Yea； far from that shore
Does he carry this vision of heretofore：
IV
A ghost…girl…rider。 And though； toil…tried；
He withers daily；
Time touches her not；
But she still rides gaily
In his rapt thought
On that shagged and shaly
Atlantic spot；
And as when first eyed
Draws rein and sings to the swing of the tide。
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES
THE WISTFUL LADY
'Love； while you were away there came to me …
From whence I cannot tell …
A plaintive lady pale and passionless；
Who bent her eyes upon me critically；
And weighed me with a wearing wistfulness；
As if she knew me well。〃
〃I saw no lady of that wistful sort
As I came riding home。
Perhaps she was some dame the Fates constrain
By memories sadder than she can support；
Or by unhappy vacancy of brain；
To leave her roof and roam？〃
〃Ah； but she knew me。 And before this time
I have seen her； lending ear
To my light outdoor words； and pondering each；
Her frail white finger swayed in pantomime；
As if she fain would close with me in speech；
And yet would not come near。
〃And once I saw her beckoning with her hand
As I came into sight
At an upper window。 And I at last went out；
But when I reached where she had seemed to stand；
And wandered up and down and searched about；
I found she had vanished quite。〃
Then thought I how my dead Love used to say；
With a small smile； when she
Was waning wan； that she would hover round
And show herself after her passing day
To any newer Love I might have found；
But show her not to me。
THE WOMAN IN THE RYE
〃Why do you stand in the dripping rye；
Cold…lipped； unconscious； wet to the knee；
When there are firesides near？〃 said I。
〃I told him I wished him dead；〃 said she。
〃Yea； cried it in my haste to one
Whom I had loved； whom I well loved still；
And die he did。 And I hate the sun；
And stand here lonely； aching； chill；
〃Stand waiting； waiting under skies
That blow reproach； the while I see
The rooks sheer off to where he lies
Wrapt in a peace withheld from me。〃
THE CHEVAL…GLASS
Why do you harbour that great cheval…glass
Filling up your narrow room？
You never preen or plume；
Or look in a week at your full…length figure …
Picture of bachelor gloom！
〃Well； when I dwelt in ancient England；
Renting the valley farm；
Thoughtless of all heart…harm；
I used to gaze at the parson's daughter；
A creature of nameless charm。
〃Thither there came a lover and won her；
Carried her off from my view。
O it was then I knew
Misery of a cast undreamt of …
More than； indeed； my due！
〃Then far rumours of her ill…usage
Came； like a chilling breath
When a man languisheth；
Followed by news that her mind lost balance；
And； in a space； of her death。
〃Soon sank her father； and next was the auction …
Everything to be sold：
Mid things new and old
Stood this glass in her former chamber；
Long in her use； I was told。
〃Well； I awaited the sale and bought it 。 。 。
There by my bed it stands；
And as the dawn expands
Often I see her pale…faced form there
Brushing her hair's bright bands。
〃There； too； at pallid midnig