The Poems Of Henry Kendall - lightnovelgate.com
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The harp we love hath a low sweet voice!
Its strings are in the bosom deep, And Love will press those hidden chords When all the baser passions sleep.
Waiting and Wishing
I loiter by this surging sea, Here, by this surging, sooming sea, Here, by this wailing, wild-faced sea, Dreaming through the dreamy night; Yearning for a strange delight!
Will it ever, ever, ever fly to me, By this surging sea, By this surging, sooming sea, By this wailing, wild-faced sea?
I know some gentle spirit lives, Some loving, lonely spirit lives, Some melancholy spirit lives, Walking o'er the earth for me, Searching round the world for me!
Will she ever, ever, ever hither come?
Where the waters roam, Where the sobbing waters roam!
Where the raving waters roam!
All worn and wasted by the storms, All gapped and fractured by the storms, All split and splintered by the storms, Overhead the caverns groan, Gloomy, ghastly caverns groan!-- Will she ever, ever, ever fill this heart?
Peace, O longing heart!
Peace, O longing, beating heart!
Peace, O beating, weary heart!
The Wild Kangaroo
The rain-clouds have gone to the deep-- The East like a furnace doth glow; And the day-spring is flooding the steep, And sheening the landscape below.
Oh, ye who are gifted with souls That delight in the music of birds, Come forth where the scattered mist rolls, And listen to eloquent words!
Oh, ye who are fond of the sport, And would travel yon wilderness through, Gather--each to his place--for a life-stirring chase, In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!
Gather--each to his place-- For a life-stirring chase In the wake of the wild Kangaroo!
Beyond the wide rents of the fog, The trees are illumined with gold; And the bark of the shepherd's brave dog Shoots away from the sheltering fold.
Down the depths of yon rock-border'd glade, A torrent goes foaming along; And the blind-owls retire into shade, And the bell-bird beginneth its song.
By the side of that yawning abyss, Where the vapours are hurrying to, We will merrily pass, looking down to the grass For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo!
We will merrily pass, Looking down to the grass For the tracks of the wild Kangaroo.
Ho, brothers, away to the woods; Euroka hath clambered the hill; But the morning there seldom intrudes, Where the night-shadows slumber on still.
We will roam o'er these forest-lands wild, And thread the dark masses of vines, Where the winds, like the voice of a child, Are singing aloft in the pines.
We must keep down the glee of our hounds; We must _steal_ through the glittering dew; And the breezes shall sleep as we cautiously creep To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.
And the breezes shall sleep, As we cautiously creep To the haunts of the wild Kangaroo.
When we pass through a stillness like death The swamp fowl and timorous quail, Like the leaves in a hurricane's breath, Will start from their nests in the vale; And the forester,* snuffing the air, Will bound from his covert so dark, While we follow along in the rear, As arrows speed on to their mark!
Then the swift hounds shall bring him to bay, And we'll send forth a hearty halloo, As we gather them all to be in at the fall-- At the death of the wild Kangaroo!
As we gather them all To be in at the fall-- At the death of the wild Kangaroo!
-- * The Kangaroo.
Too cold, O my brother, too cold for my wife Is the Beauty you showed me this morning: Nor yet have I found the sweet dream of my life, And good-bye to the sneering and scorning.
Would you have me cast down in the dark of her frown, Like others who bend at her shrine; And would barter their souls for a statue-like face, And a heart that can never be mine?
That can never be theirs nor mine.
Go after her, look at her, kneel at her feet, And mimic the lover romantic; I have hated deceit, and she misses the treat Of driving me hopelessly frantic!
Now watch her, as deep in her carriage she lies, And love her, my friend, if you dare!
She would wither your life with her beautiful eyes, And strangle your soul with her hair!
With a mesh of her splendid hair.
Let me talk of years evanished, let me harp upon the time When we trod these sands together, in our boyhood's golden prime; Let me lift again the curtain, while I gaze upon the past, As the sailor glances homewards, watching from the topmost mast.
Here we rested on the grasses, in the glorious summer hours, When the waters hurried seaward, fringed with ferns and forest flowers; When our youthful eyes, rejoicing, saw the sunlight round the spray In a rainbow-wreath of splendour, glittering underneath the day; Sunlight flashing past the billows, falling cliffs and crags among, Clothing hopeful friendship basking on the shores of Wollongong.
Echoes of departed voices, whispers from forgotten dreams, Come across my spirit, like the murmurs of melodious streams.
Here we both have wandered nightly, when the moonshine cold and pale Shimmer'd on the cone of Keira, sloping down the sleeping vale; When the mournful waves came sobbing, sobbing on the furrowed shore, Like to lone hearts weeping over loved ones they shall see no more; While the silver ripples, stealing past the shells and slimy stones, Broke beneath the caverns, dying, one by one, in muffled moans; As the fragrant wood-winds roaming, with a fitful cadence sung 'Mid the ghostly branches belting round the shores of Wollongong.
Lovely faces flit before us, friendly forms around us stand; Gleams of well-remembered gladness trip along the yellow sand.
Here the gold-green waters glistened underneath our dreaming gaze, As the lights of Heaven slanted down the pallid ether haze; Here the mossy rock-pool, like to one that stirs himself in sleep, Trembled every moment at the roaring of the restless deep; While the stately vessels swooping to the breezes fair and free, Passed away like sheeted spectres, fading down the distant sea; And our wakened fancies sparkled, and our soul-born thoughts we strung Into joyous lyrics, singing with the waves of Wollongong.
Low-breathed strains of sweetest music float about my raptured ears; Angel-eyes are glancing at me hopeful smiles and happy tears.
Merry feet go scaling up the old and thunder-shattered steeps, And the billows clamber after, and the surge to ocean leaps, Scattered into fruitless showers, falling where the breakers roll, Baffled like the aspirations of a proud ambitious soul.
Far off sounds of silvery laughter through the hollow caverns ring, While my heart leaps up to catch reviving pleasure on the wing; And the years come trooping backward, and we both again are young, Walking side by side upon the lovely shores of Wollongong.
Fleeting dreams and idle fancies! Lo, the gloomy after Age Creepeth, like an angry shadow, over life's eventful stage!
Joy is but a mocking phantom, throwing out its glitter brief-- Short-lived as the western sunbeam dying from the cedar leaf.
Here we linger, lonely-hearted, musing over visions fled, While the sickly twilight withers from the arches overhead.
Semblance of a bliss delusive are those dull, receding rays; Semblance of the faint reflection left to us of other days; Days of vernal hope and gladness, hours when the blossoms sprung Round the feet of blithesome ramblers by the shores of Wollongong.
Ella with the Shining Hair