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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


TWO IMPRESSIONS: 2. IN ST. MARTIN'S CHURCHYARD by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)

First Line: THE VOLLEYING SCHOOLBOYS PLAY
Last Line: "HE IS NOT HERE."

THE volleying schoolboys play,
The mellow church bells call;
Muffled on this still bay
Life's loud tides fall.

Here would the blind man sit
Through sunshine and through rain,
With fingers that shall knit
Never again.

And by her master set
His loyal, faithful guard --
A rough-haired, keen-eyed pet --
Kept watch and ward.

Hung round her shaggy throat,
A little pannikin
Clinked as the passers-by
Threw pennies in.

She never strayed, but state
Patient through all the noise,
Fronting, unmoved, sedate,
The larcenous boys.

Fulfilled with honest pride,
If, when the hour was come,
She of her skill might guide
Her master home.

The blind is blind no more.
'Tis two long months since he,
Safe on life's further shore,
Began to see.

But passing where to-day
At the familiar spot
Through long past years, the pair
Were, but are not,

I marked with wondering eye
And some unwonted thrill
The faithful guardian lie,
Observant still.

Upon her shaggy feet
She stretched her watchful head,
With wistful gaze and sweet
Waiting the dead.

His empty seat was there,
Vacant, but tended yet,
The carpet's scanty square,
The half-made net.

Her useless pannikin
Echoed no joyous clink;
'Twas filled with water now
For her to drink.

Marking those patient eyes,
Unchanging, faithful, dumb,
Whereon no doubt might rise,
Nor shadow come,

I thought if this brute love
Thus shares our human grief,
Dumb Trust which looks above
And courts Belief,

Would that some mystic voice
Might reach that watching ear,
"Take comfort, nay, rejoice!
He is not here."



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