“A Man Was Drawing Near To Me”

ON that gray night of mournful drone, A part from aught to hear, to see, I dreamt not that from shires unknown In gloom, alone, By Halworthy, A man was drawing near to me.

I’d no concern at anything, No sense of coming pull-heart play; Yet, under the silent outspreading Of even’s wing Where Otterham lay, A man was riding up my way.

I thought of nobody—not of one, But only of trifles—legends, ghosts— Though, on the moorland dim and dun That travellers shun About these coasts, The man had passed Tresparret Posts.

There was no light at all inland, Only the seaward pharos-fire, Nothing to let me understand That hard at hand By Hennett Byre The man was getting nigh and nigher.

There was a rumble at the door, A draught disturbed the drapery, And but a minute passed before, With gaze that bore My destiny, The man revealed himself to me.

THE STRANGE HOUSE (MAX GATE, A.D. 2000)

“I HEAR the piano playing— Just as a ghost might play.” “—O, but what are you saying? There’s no piano to-day; Their old one was sold and broken; Years past it went amiss.” “—I heard it, or shouldn’t have spoken: A strange house, this!

“I catch some undertone here, From some one out of sight.” “—Impossible; we are alone here, And shall be through the night.” “—The parlour-door—what stirred it?” “—No one: no soul’s in range.” “—But, anyhow, I heard it, And it seems strange!

“Seek my own room I cannot— A figure is on the stair!” “—What figure? Nay, I scan not Any one lingering there. A bough outside is waving, And that’s its shade by the moon.” “—Well, all is strange! I am craving Strength to leave soon.”

“—Ah, maybe you’ve some vision Of showings beyond our sphere; Some sight, sense, intuition Of what once happened here? The house is old; they’ve hinted It once held two love-thralls, And they may have imprinted Their dreams on its walls?

“They were—I think ’twas told me— Queer in their works and ways; The teller would often hold me With weird tales of those days. Some folk can not abide here, But we—we do not care Who loved, laughed, wept, or died here, Knew joy, or despair.”

“AS ’TWERE TO-NIGHT” (SONG)

AS ’twere to-night, in the brief space Of a far eventime, My spirit rang achime At vision of a girl of grace; As ’twere to-night, in the brief space Of a far eventime.

As ’twere at noontide of to-morrow I airily walked and talked, And wondered as I walked What it could mean, this soar from sorrow; As ’twere at noontide of to-morrow I airily walked and talked.

As ’twere at waning of this week Broke a new life on me; Trancings of bliss to be In some dim dear land soon to seek; As ’twere at waning of this week Broke a new life on me!