Presented to the

by the












9 -C* v 7v Dte ^ 11 . ' 'M *> j i V LOST CITY .

"My thanks are due to the Editors of the Westminster Gazette^ the (Cambridge Review." . and the Cambridge Magazine^ for permission to reprint some of the following poems.





And amber flame of sunsets Against the land's stark edge. Sweetness of cool gray beanfields May in the snow-white hedge. . winds about the township Of gracious walls and towers. . Open and green and golden It spreads before the eyes. The land of hearts' release. here's the Gentle County. Nor speaks above a whisper For fear to break their dreams. Upon whose fields be peace. . And under dreaming willows The river winds and gleams. It . . With roads that call to follow. In Cambridgeshire of fenlands. Within whose shade is healing. But Cambridgeshire of fenlands Is gentlest of them all.THE GENTLE COUNTY TT^ROM * north and south the counties hills With and splendour call. White under quiet skies . . . Whose years are young as hours Oh. .

You with 8 . the oars and I the lines. of reach of wind and sun out are a shade . And every dog obeys. will Charon stand aside for us all (Fingering a coin. But slip away to where there rolls The quiet current of the Styx. nor mix With all those far heroic souls. when and I a shade. whom Who. W rearing an abysmal throat In bull-dog smile serene and bland. r ith all three tongues will lick your hand curl And So.Of games And You the very last is played that we have lost and won.ON THE LOWER RIVER OH. you. Over the tide where no sun shines That immemorial barque shall glide. amaze). We'll not be sociable. Will swiftly deal with Cerberus. round meekly in the boat. moving smoothly from the side.

in a well-known way From one bank to the other bank. And when the backwater flows but we pass Where Lethe makes no sound. I had to let them go ! And Heaven knows when they'll be back ! . . nor turn us round At those faint voices from the grass will Turn. We would remember. " They was lookin' so Sorry. . he's late Demanding why the He'll call across the waters black. We *' shoot on. be still.. And when indignant ghosts who wait For Charon's boat across the stream.Sheer through the weeds and sedges dank. Here is room for millions yet. And veering. not forget. . sir Happy." still. . Disturbing ghostly rats at play. Shatter with shouts his pipe-filled dream. ill. And Be here the cure for every . most piteous shades.. . .

I remember Autumn upon your fields in a time grown old. Shivering poplar trees on the long horizon. and the water's gleam. and shatters . dear God ! I remember how . is And oh. ** Here with a wide-winged flame and flooding of gold. Wastes of the dim deep fen. far. all white on the furrow and toiling team. . Here where the moist ploughed slopes rise fold on fold. Scarcely a streak of colour to rest the eyes on Rime And The here. where the beechwoods blaze and the stream. Down where the cherry-copse heart is a crimson Up ember. where the blood red tide of the woods rolled. red fires call of your dank fields that the dead mist lies Tugs at my . 10 . . heart for ever. my dream. on.ET EGO IN ARCADIA VIXI A UTUMN is on the fields and still November. .



Where soul treads hard on soul and makes no sign. T HAVE -* 1916 hour of come back in a rich May My heart. To the grave gardens by the river's line Where scents rise softly at the end of day Back from hot city pavements worlds away. Where life flows outwards in a ceaseless line.MAY TERM. lamplight on your wall. There your window. Gold of the sky. and the branches call sway. is 13 . to this gray town of yours and mine. There is a shadow on the blind inside But you are dead. and the rooks The evening stillness rises like a tide Across the cobbled court I hush my tread . but you are dead. black boughs. my dear. To the dear smell of lawns.

and know Down in the dusk. murmurous its sleep . your laugh. hear voice. With I. You 14 . things the river whispers in leaning outward thus this high From Your window.WALNUT-TREE COURT ^T^HE -* court below drowns in an emerald deep all Of dusk. over the silence. and infinitely near stand below.

Their foaming sweetness drops in showers Under a sky like gentian flowers White as a bride's is their aira}^ . And petals pattering.CHESTNUT SUNDAY end to end of Cambridge town The chestnut boughs move up and down. The chestnuts keeping holiday ! Oh. my dear. in your dreamless sleep. one by one. But I am sure you woke this hour I To see your chestnut trees in flower ! 15 . never feel you watch me weep. Between the voices and the sun. I know. And rain their petals on the grass T?ROM * And on the busy folk who pass. I know you see me here. Nor din of battle breaks your sleep.

Paths where the lilac spills . cool. Blossom too rich to bear Gold sheets of daffodils . Oh the good days were ours.UNRETURNING T TNDER ^ these walls and towers By these green water-ways. Sunset at back of King's Behind the silver spire. Talk of uncounted things Over a college fire 16 . ! The unforgotten days Too happy to be wise When the road used to run Under such maddening skies Headlong to Huntingdon. Lighting the Market Square Shimmer of gliding prows Where the green shade is Tea under orchard boughs. Smoke-rings by Byron's Pool.

. Life leads the same old dance. to your passing feet ! to think Term is here. France. While you lie Somewhere in dead. 17 . my dear.Red leaves above your door. Gray walls and echoing street Whose Ring Strange stones will never more . .

I .THE DREAM H ROUGH I the still streets whose windows * were shut down wandered name. Now God be thanked. and you shall find your " dead And stooping down beneath the boughs asway ! And So. wound on and on. the blue twilight fell. You uncoffined in the pitiless rain. There. 18 . " Who set my feet to find you. . and came To a walled place of trees. where you My own. found your name. on my pillow. seek here. . and knew that there you lay. the old agony. and a voice said. " Seek here. I shall not dream again lie lie. in a Where streets dumb and unknown town.." And woke to see and knew I dreamed . and had no Where unseen fingers brushed my sleeve. and the cold dew." said I.. While I lay in the grass and spoke to you. . my own. . . and turned. . . when I " rose.

city crossings and in heather spaces. with its throng of vanished faces And echoes of dead laughter's undertone. Because of rose-light over a gray spire. And still the happy ghosts come stealing. There's not a pathway that my feet have known But mocks me. A frosty road whose flints strike leaping fire The dead days stab me till I stand and shiver. just one corner of Trafalgar Square. And there's a cliff -road with the white gulls wheeling. 19 . a bridge across a river. . stealing. they catch me unaware . Where At At ev'ry time.OLD ROADS T HAVE * That now been glad in such unlikely places I walk in the same ways alone The very stones And are thronged by vanished faces echoes of dead laughter's undertone. Mellow stone courts. . .

NEW ROADS all the winds that drive. be one to guide us Into new lie roads. at least. where we no more may be Haunted of feet that used to walk beside us. In spray-blown lanes they follow our steps like goads . new roads ! 20 . And now Through crowded that left streets go treading the feet us. Oh unrestoring Powers that have bereft us. Give us. silently.

We keep for ever (and yet they call me brave) Untouched. will not see love grow old. dearest that for us there will not be Laughter and joy of living dwindling cold. This only. We who Nor any ebb-tide with a sluggish stream No. a debt to pay." someone says . how they crowd. had morning time and crest o' the wave Will have no twilight chill after the gleam. and someone " Pray " ! What do they mean. If WOUNDS you are dead. for you and me. first told Stale tenderness. We who lived love. unrebuilt. our dream. And And " " Greater love. heart's desire. . they crowd " Dying for England but you must be proud . . dear. This. honour. unbroken. so many words they ' you could hear them.DIED OF ECAUSE say." Cry. Ashes of words that dropped in flame. nor clutch wisdom as a thing to save. made foolish suddenly. 21 . their words that throng so loud ? .

: The man beside me opens a paper Bitter weather losses three mile advance Heavy we take the guns. and the curtain runs." And between my eyes and the crimson lights Move the ranks of men who sat here o' nights. the fringed eyes . FRONT The The " ROW STALLS the footlights the ankles caper. 22 . And now lie heaped in the mud together. glance last note shrills. grease paint glistens. Stiff and still in the bitter weather.INTERVAL.

blown from a far-off troublous sea. Rending the sky over the chimney pots. With never a hill's curve. you do. 23 . And all the mad winds of the world full cry Careering through the dusk into the town. where the sky Leaping Swoops down to meet the fields. : The thin white road between the fenlands.YESTERDAY 'TpHE winds are out to-night. Strange winds. if trees wonder you hear ? soil. only poplar boughs Like spires out of the mist at the day's edge. Into a writhing web of jade and pearl And lashing All into wonder I my sedate black London and a breathless maze. From your I still bed under the Flanders I wonder if if you know the winds are out ? across your sleep For. There comes the dream that's tugging at know my heart Alone here with the lamplight and the And the day dying over London roofs fire. the flat brown fields.

The winds went rollicking and dancing still Swaying the chain of lights down King's Parade . 104. Just as they come to me. the careless hours That knew no shadow of purpose. Beating Rocking the room. HEFFER & SONS LTD. When the glad winds raced under Cambridge walls. they say they will rebuild Out of the soil where you and yours lie dead But not. . Cambridge. W. I think. Hills Road. to-night.And down the narrow streets. . the free. breaking the fire in gusts. Under the yellowing elms along the Backs. And so they came to us with wild wings in the court below. Under the gray towers and serene gray walls. And driving purple cloud-wrack down the sky Running red flame behind the spires of King's. Filled with the spice of dead leaves and wet boughs. My the world dear. alone.. but were glad.

w m m .



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