First Horizons

An open window filled with blue, The scent of meadows wet with dew, The talk of rooks beyond the park, A cart wheel’s creak, a sheep-dog’s bark, Greeted our waking: then we sped Along the rushy path that led Down to the peat-brown river pool, And, glowing, dived through ripples cool, While startled coots in skimming flight Slipped among sedges out of sight, Or from his lonely watch the crane Rose on slow wings; then out again And home to breakfast. Oh, the smell Of furze bloom and bog-asphodel Along the track! but still more sweet The fragrance of the cakes of wheat, The tea, the toast, the home-baked bread, The roasted apples, all outspread On damask white. Anon, our chairs Pushed back, we knelt for morning prayers, And, planning new adventures, heard The voice devout but not the word. No lingering then;--a hundred things, New schemes, imagined happenings, Called us away to wood and field-- For any hour of life might yield Some wonder, some unthought of bliss, Some miracle we dared not miss. And gladness, hidden in the springs Of purpose at the heart of things, Showed us a world where work was play, And common labours of the day Sweet service; but we knew not then The burdens men have laid on men,-- Nay, only those perennial tasks Which earth of all her children asks For fruitfulness; and glad were we Of that good fellowship to be; Nor sought more honour than to share The sower’s toil, the shepherd’s care. But most we loved the merry ring Of whetted scythes, the rhythmic swing Of mowers, and with fork and rake All day to follow in their wake; And homeward in the eventide On the piled waggon load to ride, While, half asleep amid the hay, Dim fields we saw and uplands grey, And heard beneath our swaying load The rumbling wheel along the road.

No need had we the world to roam To find new shores, for round our home Our undiscovered lands arose In autumn mists, in winter snows. On summer nights in whispering trees We heard the wash of Indian seas, And ripening waves of harvest rolled Over our hills the realms of gold; And flood-time mapped familiar lands With island shores and foreign strands; And tidings of unventured ways We gathered in the darkening days When leafless woods began to moan And twilight opened gates unknown. A narrower, homelier world we knew In winter time, and kinder grew The sheltering bounds of landmarks old; And, gathered within farm and fold, The sound of voices and the stir Of labour seemed the merrier Because so lonely and so wide And homeless was the world outside. Then we discovered golden shores, Our El Dorado’s treasure stores, Amid the piled up sheaves of grain Within the barn; and while the rain Beat on the roofs we burrowed deep In rustling caves, or from the heap Threw down our golden citadel, While girls unbound the sheaves that fell For threshing, and as each new load Between the spinning rollers flowed, The hum of wheels, the engine’s drone A sudden octave fell in tone; And grain was stored, and billows soft Of straw went rolling to the loft, And out on skies of cheerless grey The winnowed chaff was blown away.

But after days of winter rains Came mornings when our window-panes Were bright with sunshine and embossed With silver trellises of frost; And out we rushed across the yard, Down rutty cart tracks, frozen hard, And round the farm sheds and the fold To match our blood against the cold; And every one we met was gay, And had the pleasant word to say. What, then, were dreams of summer worth, While magic regions of the north Lay round us, and o’er fields of snow, Along the river’s overflow, Were Arctic seas, with many a shore And frozen inlet to explore?-- Or while we tracked through forests bare Wild creatures to their hidden lair? Or, when the snow had drifted deep, We helped to find the scattered sheep, Or, with the shepherds and their dogs, Sat round a fire of brush and logs At nightfall, when old tales were told Of other days, and clear and cold The starlight shone above the fold?

Not then, but when the wild South-west Filled the dim land with its unrest At twilight, and the woods began To talk of things unknown to man, And on the garden paths we heard Strange footsteps, but no answering word Came to our call;-- ’twas then the spell Of mystery about us fell, The awe that held us half-afraid To pass beyond our gates, but made The shelter of our homely bounds So welcome, and familiar sounds So sweet; ’twas then before us rose The vision of ancestral foes, And in our ears old battle calls At night around beleaguered walls Rang; and, though all was safe and still, Old dangers set our hearts a-thrill, And in the silent courtyard made Each door and arch an ambuscade; And passing through our sleeping camp We heard the stabled horses champ, And started as a halter whirred Along the chain rings when they stirred.

Then, with our day’s adventures o’er, Safe housed, we heard the muffled roar Of winds without, and round the fire Sought for the land of heart’s desire, Or sailed across the Spanish main In well-loved books; or lived again In knightly days of long ago, And heard the horn of Ivanhoe At Ashby lists; or, on his steed At Acre, saw King Richard lead His pilgrim soldiers, worn and thin, That broke the ranks of Saladin:-- Till, in the thickest of some fight, Or when the captive maiden’s plight Was sorest, suddenly the spell Was broken, and a welcome bell Our own forgotten days restored And called us to the supper board; Where, with our elders gathered round, Good cheer and fellowship we found, And oft a neighbour or a guest To tell the news or speed the jest.

And all too quickly afterwards Our bedtime came, and at their cards And talk we left them. In the hall The firelight flickered on the wall, Deep shadows thronged the winding stair, And overhead, we knew not where, A footstep fell upon the floor Of some deserted corridor.

But, once within our cheerful room, No hidden phantom of the gloom Came near us; and in bed we lay And heard the wind that far away Now seemed to blow,--as storms outside Might seem to those whose vessels ride Rocked on the gentle rise and fall Of tides within the haven wall.