THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

Cabinet Edition

BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY THE RIVERSIDE PRESS, CAMBRIDGE

M DCCCC II

PUBLISHERS' NOTE

Mr. Lowell, the year before he died, edited a definitive edition of his works, known as the Riverside edition. Subsequently, his literary executor, Mr. C.E. Norton, issued a final posthumous collection, and the Cambridge edition followed, including all the poems in the Riverside edition, and the poems edited by Mr. Norton. The present Cabinet edition contains all the poems in the Cambridge edition. It is made from new plates, and for the convenience of the student the longer poems have their lines numbered, and indexes of titles and first lines are added.

Autumn, 1899.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

EARLIER POEMS.

THRENODIA THE SIRENS IRENÉ SERENADE WITH A PRESSED FLOWER THE BEGGAR MY LOVE SUMMER STORM LOVE TO PERDITA, SINGING THE MOON REMEMBERED MUSIC SONG. TO M.L. ALLEGRA THE FOUNTAIN ODE THE FATHERLAND THE FORLORN MIDNIGHT A PRAYER THE HERITAGE THE ROSE: A BALLAD SONG, 'VIOLET! SWEET VIOLET!' ROSALINE A REQUIEM A PARABLE SONG, 'O MOONLIGHT DEEP AND TENDER'

SONNETS. I. TO A.C.L. II. 'WHAT WERE I, LOVE, IF I WERE STRIPPED OF THEE?' III. 'I WOULD NOT HAVE THIS PERFECT LOVE OF OURS' IV. 'FOR THIS TRUE NOBLENESS I SEEK IN VAIN' V. TO THE SPIRIT OF KEATS VI. 'GREAT TRUTHS ARE PORTIONS OF THE SOUL OF MAN' VII. 'I ASK NOT FOR THOSE THOUGHTS, THAT SUDDEN LEAP' VIII. TO M.W., ON HER BIRTHDAY IX. 'MY LOVE, I HAVE NO FEAR THAT THOU SHOULDST DIE' X. 'I CANNOT THINK THAT THOU SHOULDST PASS AWAY' XI. 'THERE NEVER YET WAS FLOWER FAIR IN VAIN' XII. SUB PONDERE CRESCIT XIII. 'BELOVED, IN THE NOISY CITY HERE' XIV. ON READING WORDSWORTH'S SONNETS IN DEFENCE OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENT XV. THE SAME CONTINUED. XVI. THE SAME CONTINUED. XVII. THE SAME CONTINUED. XVIII. THE SAME CONTINUED. XIX. THE SAME CONCLUDED. XX. TO M.O.S. XXI. 'OUR LOVE IS NOT A FADING, EARTHLY FLOWER' XXII. IN ABSENCE XXIII. WENDELL PHILLIPS XXIV. THE STREET XXV. 'I GRIEVE NOT THAT RIPE KNOWLEDGE TAKES AWAY' XXVI. TO J.R. GIDDINGS XXVII. 'I THOUGHT OUR LOVE AT FULL, BUT I DID ERR' L'ENVOI

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

A LEGEND OF BRITTANY PROMETHEUS THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS THE TOKEN AN INCIDENT IN A RAILROAD CAR RHOECUS THE FALCON TRIAL A GLANCE BEHIMD THE CURTAIN A CHIPPEWA LEGEND STANZAS ON FREEDOM COLUMBUS AN INCIDENT OF THE FIRE AT HAMBURG THE SOWER HUNGER AND COLD THE LANDLORD TO A PINE-TREE SI DESCENDERO IN INFERNUM, ADES TO THE PAST TO THE FUTURE HEBE THE SEARCH THE PRESENT CRISIS AN INDIAN-SUMMER REVERIE THE GROWTH OF THE LEGEND A CONTRAST EXTREME UNCTION THE OAK AMBROSE ABOVE AND BELOW THE CAPTIVE THE BIRCH-TREE AN INTERVIEW WITH MILES STANDISH ON THE CAPTURE OF FUGITIVE SLAVES NEAR WASHINGTON TO THE DANDELION THE GHOST-SEER STUDIES FOR TWO HEADS ON A PORTRAIT OF DANTE BY GIOTTO ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND'S CHILD EURYDICE SHE CAME AND WENT THE CHANGELING THE PIONEER LONGING ODE TO FRANCE. February, 1848 ANTI-APIS A PARABLE ODE WRITTEN FOR THE CELEBRATION OF THE INTRODUCTION OF THE COCHITUATE WATER INTO THE CITY OF BOSTON LINES SUGGESTED BY THE GRAVES OF TWO ENGLISH SOLDIERS ON CONCORD BATTLE-GROUND TO—— FREEDOM BIBLIOLATRES BEAVER BROOK

MEMORIAL VERSES.

KOSSUTH TO LAMARTINE. 1848 TO JOHN GORHAM PALFREY TO W.L. GARRISON ON THE DEATH OF CHARLES TURNER TORREY ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF DR. CHANNING TO THE MEMORY OF HOOD

THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL LETTER FROM BOSTON. December, 1846 A FABLE FOR CRITICS THE UNHAPPY LOT OF MR. KNOTT FRAGMENTS OF AN UNFINISHED POEM AN ORIENTAL APOLOGUE THE BIGLOW PAPERS.

FIRST SERIES.

NOTICES OF AN INDEPENDENT PRESS NOTE TO TITLE-PAGE INTRODUCTION NO. I. A LETTER FROM MR. EZEKIEL BIGLOW OF JAALAM TO THE HON. JOSEPH T. BUCKINGHAM NO. II. A LETTER FROM MR. HOSEA BIGLOW TO THE HON. J.T. BUCKINGHAM NO. III. WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS NO. IV. REMARKS OF INCREASE D. O'PHACE, ESQ. NO. V. THE DEBATE IN THE SENNIT NO. VI. THE PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED NO. VII. A LETTER FROM A CANDIDATE IN THE PRESIDENCY IN ANSWER TO SUTTIN QUESTIONS PROPOSED BY Mr. HOSEA BIGLOW NO. VIII. A SECOND LETTER FROM B. SAWIN, ESQ. NO. IX. A THIRD LETTER FROM B. SAWIN, ESQ.

SECOND SERIES.

THE COURTIN' NO. I. BIRDOFREDUM SAWIN ESQ., TO MR. HOSEA BIGLOW NO. II. MASON AND SLIDELL: A YANKEE IDYLL JONATHAN TO JOHN NO. III. BIRDOFREDUM SAWIN, ESQ., TO MR. HOSEA BIGLOW NO. IV. A MESSAGE OF JEFF DAVIS IN SECRET SESSION NO. V. SPEECH OF HONOURABLE PRESERVED DOE IN SECRET CAUCUS NO. VI. SUNTHIN' IN THE PASTORAL LINE NO. VII. LATEST VIEWS OF MR. BIGLOW NO. VIII. KETTELOPOTOMACHIA NO. IX. SOME MEMORIALS OF THE LATE REVEREND H. WILBUR NO. X. MR. HOSEA BIGLOW TO THE EDITOR OF THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY NO. XI. MR. HOSEA BIGLOW'S SPEECH IN MARCH MEETING

UNDER THE WILLOWS AND OTHER POEMS.

TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON UNDER THE WILLOWS DARA THE FIRST SNOW-FALL THE SINGING LEAVES SEAWEED THE FINDING OF THE LYRE NEW-YEAR'S EVE, 1850 FOR AN AUTOGRAPH AL FRESCO MASACCIO WITHOUT AND WITHIN GODMINSTER CHIMES THE PARTING OF THE WAYS ALADDIN AN INVITATION. TO JOHN FRANCIS HEATH THE NOMADES SELF-STUDY PICTURES FROM APPLEDORE THE WIND-HARP AUF WIEDERSEHEN PALINODE AFTER THE BURIAL THE DEAD HOUSE A MOOD THE VOYAGE TO VINLAND MAHMOOD THE IMAGE-BREAKER INVITA MINERVA THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH YUSSOUF THE DARKENED MIND WHAT RABBI JEHOSHA SAID ALL-SAINTS A WINTER-EVENING HYMN TO MY FIRE FANCY'S CASUISTRY TO MR. JOHN BARTLETT ODE TO HAPPINESS VILLA FRANCA. 1859 THE MINER GOLD EGG: A DREAM-FANTASY A FAMILIAR EPISTLE TO A FRIEND AN EMBER PICTURE TO H.W.L. THE NIGHTINGALE IN THE STUDY IN THE TWILIGHT THE FOOT-PATH

POEMS OF THE WAR.

THE WASHERS OF THE SHROUD TWO SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF BLONDEL MEMORIAE POSITUM ON BOARD THE '76 ODE RECITED AT THE HARVARD COMMEMORATION L'ENVOI: TO THE MUSE THE CATHEDRAL THREE MEMORIAL POEMS. ONE READ AT THE ONE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE FIGHT AT CONCORD BRIDGE UNDER THE OLD ELM AN ODE FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1876

HEARTSEASE AND RUE.

I. FRIENDSHIP.

AGASSIZ TO HOLMES, ON HIS SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY IN A COPY OF OMAR KHAYYÁM ON RECEIVING A COPY OF MR. AUSTIN DOBSON'S 'OLD WORLD IDYLLS' TO C.F. BRADFORD BANKSIDE JOSEPH WINLOCK SONNET, TO FANNY ALEXANDER JEFFRIES WYMAN TO A FRIEND WITH AN ARMCHAIR E.G. DE R. BON VOYAGE TO WHITTIER, ON HIS SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY ON AN AUTUMN SKETCH OF H.G. WILD TO MISS D.T. WITH A COPY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE ON PLANTING A TREE AT INVERARAY AN EPISTLE TO GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS

II. SENTIMENT.

ENDYMION THE BLACK PREACHER ARCADIA REDIVIVA THE NEST A YOUTHFUL EXPERIMENT IN ENGLISH HEXAMETERS BIRTHDAY VERSES ESTRANGEMENT PHŒBE DAS EWIG-WEIBLICHE THE RECALL ABSENCE MONNA LISA THE OPTIMIST ON BURNING SOME OLD LETTERS THE PROTEST THE PETITION FACT OR FANCY? AGRO-DOLCE THE BROKEN TRYST CASA SIN ALMA A CHRISTMAS CAROL MY PORTRAIT GALLERY PAOLO TO FRANCESCA SONNET, SCOTTISH BORDER SONNET, ON BEING ASKED FOR AN AUTOGRAPH IN VENICE THE DANCING BEAR THE MAPLE NIGHTWATCHES DEATH OF QUEEN MERCEDES PRISON OF CERVANTES TO A LADY PLAYING ON THE CITHERN THE EYE'S TREASURY PESSIMOPTIMISM THE BRAKES A FOREBODING

III. FANCY

UNDER THE OCTOBER MAPLES LOVE'S CLOCK ELEANOR MAKES MACAROONS TELEPATHY SCHERZO 'FRANCISCUS DE VERULAMIO SIC COGITAVIT' AUSPEX THE PREGNANT COMMENT THE LESSON SCIENCE AND POETRY A NEW YEAR'S GREETING THE DISCOVERY WITH A SEASHELL THE SECRET

IV. HUMOR AND SATIRE.

FITZ ADAM'S STORY THE ORIGIN OF DIDACTIC POETRY THE FLYING DUTCHMAN CREDIDIMUS JOVEM REGNARE TEMPORA MUTANTUR IN THE HALF-WAY HOUSE AT THE BURNS CENTENNIAL IN AN ALBUM AT THE COMMENCEMENT DINNER, 1866 A PARABLE

V. EPIGRAMS.

SAYINGS INSCRIPTIONS A MISCONCEPTION THE BOSS SUN-WORSHIP CHANGED PERSPECTIVE WITH A PAIR OF GLOVES LOST IN A WAGER SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT

LAST POEMS.

HOW I CONSULTED THE ORACLE OF THE GOLDFISHES TURNER'S OLD TÉMÉRAIRE ST. MICHAEL THE WEIGHER A VALENTINE AN APRIL BIRTHDAY—AT SEA LOVE AND THOUGHT THE NOBLER LOVER ON HEARING A SONATA OF BEETHOVEN'S PLAYED IN THE NEXT ROOM VERSES, INTENDED TO GO WITH A POSSET DISH ON A BUST OF GENERAL GRANT

APPENDIX.

I. INTRODUCTION TO THE SECOND SERIES OF BIGLOW PAPERS II. GLOSSARY TO THE BIGLOW PAPERS III. INDEX TO BIGLOW PAPERS

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

INDEX OF TITLES

EARLIER POEMS

THRENODIA

Gone, gone from us! and shall we see Those sibyl-leaves of destiny, Those calm eyes, nevermore? Those deep, dark eyes so warm and bright, Wherein the fortunes of the man Lay slumbering in prophetic light, In characters a child might scan? So bright, and gone forth utterly! Oh stern word—Nevermore!

The stars of those two gentle eyes 10 Will shine no more on earth; Quenched are the hopes that had their birth, As we watched them slowly rise, Stars of a mother's fate; And she would read them o'er and o'er, Pondering, as she sate, Over their dear astrology, Which she had conned and conned before, Deeming she needs must read aright 19 What was writ so passing bright. And yet, alas! she knew not why. Her voice would falter in its song, And tears would slide from out her eye, Silent, as they were doing wrong. Oh stern word—Nevermore!

The tongue that scarce had learned to claim An entrance to a mother's heart By that dear talisman, a mother's name, Sleeps all forgetful of its art! I loved to see the infant soul 30 (How mighty in the weakness Of its untutored meekness!) Peep timidly from out its nest, His lips, the while, Fluttering with half-fledged words, Or hushing to a smile That more than words expressed, When his glad mother on him stole And snatched him to her breast! Oh, thoughts were brooding in those eyes, 40 That would have soared like strong-winged birds Far, far into the skies, Gladding the earth with song, And gushing harmonies, Had he but tarried with us long! Oh stern word—Nevermore!

How peacefully they rest, Crossfolded there Upon his little breast, Those small, white hands that ne'er were still before, 50 But ever sported with his mother's hair, Or the plain cross that on her breast she wore! Her heart no more will beat To feel the touch of that soft palm, That ever seemed a new surprise Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes To bless him with their holy calm,— Sweet thoughts! they made her eyes as sweet. How quiet are the hands That wove those pleasant bands! But that they do not rise and sink 61 With his calm breathing, I should think That he were dropped asleep. Alas! too deep, too deep Is this his slumber! Time scarce can number The years ere he shall wake again. Oh, may we see his eyelids open then! Oh stern word—Nevermore!

As the airy gossamere, 70 Floating in the sunlight clear, Where'er it toucheth clingeth tightly, Bound glossy leal or stump unsightly, So from his spirit wandered out Tendrils spreading all about, Knitting all things to its thrall With a perfect love of all: Oh stern word—Nevermore!

He did but float a little way Adown the stream of time, 80 With dreamy eyes watching the ripples play, Or hearkening their fairy chime; His slender sail Ne'er felt the gale; He did but float a little way, And, putting to the shore While yet 't was early day, Went calmly on his way, To dwell with us no more! No jarring did he feel, 90 No grating on his shallop's keel; A strip of silver sand Mingled the waters with the land Where he was seen no more: Oh stern word—Nevermore!

Full short his journey was; no dust Of earth unto his sandals clave; The weary weight that old men must, He bore not to the grave. He seemed a cherub who had lost his way 100 And wandered hither, so his stay With us was short, and 't was most meet That he should be no delver in earth's clod, Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet To stand before his God: Oh blest word—Evermore!

THE SIRENS

The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, The sea is restless and uneasy; Thou seekest quiet, thou art weary, Wandering thou knowest not whither;— Our little isle is green and breezy, Come and rest thee! Oh come hither, Come to this peaceful home of ours, Where evermore The low west-wind creeps panting up the shore 9 To be at rest among the flowers; Full of rest, the green moss lifts, As the dark waves of the sea Draw in and out of rocky rifts, Calling solemnly to thee With voices deep and hollow,— 'To the shore Follow! Oh, follow! To be at rest forevermore! Forevermore!'

Look how the gray old Ocean 20 From the depth of his heart rejoices, Heaving with a gentle motion, When he hears our restful voices; List how he sings in an undertone, Chiming with our melody; And all sweet sounds of earth and air Melt into one low voice alone, That murmurs over the weary sea, And seems to sing from everywhere,— 'Here mayst thou harbor peacefully, 30 Here mayst thou rest from the aching oar; Turn thy curved prow ashore, And in our green isle rest forevermore! Forevermore!' And Echo half wakes in the wooded hill, And, to her heart so calm and deep, Murmurs over in her sleep, Doubtfully pausing and murmuring still, 'Evermore!' Thus, on Life's weary sea, 40 Heareth the marinere Voices sweet, from far and near, Ever singing low and clear, Ever singing longingly.

Is it not better here to be, Than to be toiling late and soon? In the dreary night to see Nothing but the blood-red moon Go up and down into the sea; Or, in the loneliness of day, 50 To see the still seals only Solemnly lift their faces gray, Making it yet more lonely? Is it not better than to hear Only the sliding of the wave Beneath the plank, and feel so near A cold and lonely grave, A restless grave, where thou shalt lie Even in death unquietly? Look down beneath thy wave-worn bark, 60 Lean over the side and see The leaden eye of the sidelong shark Upturnèd patiently, Ever waiting there for thee: Look down and see those shapeless forms, Which ever keep their dreamless sleep Far down within the gloomy deep, And only stir themselves in storms, Rising like islands from beneath, And snorting through the angry spray, 70 As the frail vessel perisheth In the whirls of their unwieldy play; Look down! Look down! Upon the seaweed, slimy and dark, That waves its arms so lank and brown, Beckoning for thee! Look down beneath thy wave-worn bark Into the cold depth of the sea!

Look down! Look down! Thus, on Life's lonely sea, 80 Heareth the marinere Voices sad, from far and near, Ever singing full of fear, Ever singing drearfully.

Here all is pleasant as a dream; The wind scarce shaketh down the dew, The green grass floweth like a stream Into the ocean's blue; Listen! Oh, listen! Here is a gush of many streams, A song of many birds, 91 And every wish and longing seems Lulled to a numbered flow of words,— Listen! Oh, listen! Here ever hum the golden bees Underneath full-blossomed trees, At once with glowing fruit and flowers crowned;— So smooth the sand, the yellow sand, That thy keel will not grate as it touches the land; All around with a slumberous sound, 100 The singing waves slide up the strand, And there, where the smooth, wet pebbles be, The waters gurgle longingly, As If they fain would seek the shore, To be at rest from the ceaseless roar, To be at rest forevermore,— Forevermore. Thus, on Life's gloomy sea, Heareth the marinere Voices sweet, from far and near, 110 Ever singing in his ear, 'Here is rest and peace for thee!'

IRENÉ

Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal-clear; Calmly beneath her earnest face it lies, Free without boldness, meek without a fear, Quicker to look than speak its sympathies; Far down into her large and patient eyes I gaze, deep-drinking of the infinite, As, in the mid-watch of a clear, still night, I look into the fathomless blue skies.

So circled lives she with Love's holy light, That from the shade of self she walketh free; 10 The garden of her soul still keepeth she An Eden where the snake did never enter; She hath a natural, wise sincerity, A simple truthfulness, and these have lent her A dignity as moveless as the centre; So that no influence of our earth can stir Her steadfast courage, nor can take away The holy peacefulness, which night and day, Unto her queenly soul doth minister.

Most gentle is she; her large charity 20 (An all unwitting, childlike gift in her) Not freer is to give than meek to bear; And, though herself not unacquaint with care, Hath in her heart wide room for all that be,— Her heart that hath no secrets of its own, But open is as eglantine full blown. Cloudless forever is her brow serene, Speaking calm hope and trust within her, whence Welleth a noiseless spring of patience, That keepeth all her life so fresh, so green 30 And full of holiness, that every look, The greatness of her woman's soul revealing, Unto me bringeth blessing, and a feeling As when I read in God's own holy book.

A graciousness in giving that doth make The small'st gift greatest, and a sense most meek Of worthiness, that doth not fear to take From others, but which always fears to speak Its thanks in utterance, for the giver's sake;— The deep religion of a thankful heart, 40 Which rests instinctively in Heaven's clear law With a full peace, that never can depart From its own steadfastness;—a holy awe For holy things,—not those which men call holy, But such as are revealèd to the eyes Of a true woman's soul bent down and lowly Before the face of daily mysteries;— A love that blossoms soon, but ripens slowly To the full goldenness of fruitful prime, Enduring with a firmness that defies 50 All shallow tricks of circumstance and time, By a sure insight knowing where to cling, And where it clingeth never withering;— These are Irené's dowry, which no fate Can shake from their serene, deep-builded state.

In-seeing sympathy is hers, which chasteneth No less than loveth, scorning to be bound With fear of blame, and yet which ever hasteneth To pour the balm of kind looks on the wound, If they be wounds which such sweet teaching makes, 60 Giving itself a pang for others' sakes; No want of faith, that chills with sidelong eye, Hath she; no jealousy, no Levite pride That passeth by upon the other side; For in her soul there never dwelt a lie. Right from the hand of God her spirit came Unstained, and she hath ne'er forgotten whence It came, nor wandered far from thence, But laboreth to keep her still the same, Near to her place of birth, that she may not 70 Soil her white raiment with an earthly spot.

Yet sets she not her soul so steadily Above, that she forgets her ties to earth, But her whole thought would almost seem to be How to make glad one lowly human hearth; For with a gentle courage she doth strive In thought and word and feeling so to live As to make earth next heaven; and her heart Herein doth show its most exceeding worth, That, bearing in our frailty her just part, 80 She hath not shrunk from evils of this life, But hath gone calmly forth into the strife, And all its sins and sorrows hath withstood With lofty strength of patient womanhood: For this I love her great soul more than all, That, being bound, like us, with earthly thrall, She walks so bright and heaven-like therein,— Too wise, too meek, too womanly, to sin.

Like a lone star through riven storm-clouds seen By sailors, tempest-tost upon the sea, 90 Telling of rest and peaceful heavens nigh, Unto my soul her star-like soul hath been, Her sight as full of hope and calm to me;— For she unto herself hath builded high A home serene, wherein to lay her head, Earth's noblest thing, a Woman perfected.

SERENADE

From the close-shut windows gleams no spark, The night is chilly, the night is dark, The poplars shiver, the pine-trees moan, My hair by the autumn breeze is blown, Under thy window I sing alone, Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!

The darkness is pressing coldly around, The windows shake with a lonely sound, The stars are hid and the night is drear, The heart of silence throbs in thine ear, In thy chamber thou sittest alone, Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!

The world is happy, the world is wide. Kind hearts are beating on every side; Ah, why should we lie so coldly curled Alone in the shell of this great world? Why should we any more be alone? Alone, alone, ah woe! alone!