Essays on Modern Novelists

APPENDIX C

TWO POEMS

It is interesting to compare the two following poems, written by two distinguished English novelists, both men of fine intelligence, noble character, and absolute sincerity. Mr. Hardy's poem appeared in the Fortnightly Review, for 1 January, 1907.

NEW YEAR'S EVE

By Thomas Hardy

"I have finished another year," said God,
"In grey, green, white, and brown;
I have strewn the leaf upon the sod,
Sealed up the worm within the clod,
And let the last sun down."

"And what's the good of it?" I said,
"What reasons made You call
From formless void this earth I tread,
When nine-and-ninety can be read
Why nought should be at all?

"Yea, Sire; why shaped You us, 'who in
This tabernacle groan'?—
If ever a joy be found herein,
Such joy no man had wished to win
If he had never known!"

Then He: "My labours logicless
You may explain; not I:
Sense-sealed I have wrought, without a guess
That I evolved a Consciousness
To ask for reasons why!

"Strange, that ephemeral creatures who
By my own ordering are,
Should see the shortness of my view,
Use ethic tests I never knew,
Or made provision for!"

He sank to raptness as of yore,
And opening New Year's Day
Wove it by rote as theretofore,
And went on working evermore
In his unweeting way.

DOMINUS ILLUMINATIO MEA

By Richard Doddridge Blackmore

In the hour of death, after this life's whim,
When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
And pain has exhausted every limb—
The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.

When the will has forgotten the life-long aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
And a man is uncertain of his own name,
The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.

When the last sigh is heaved and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and the child forsake the dead,
The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall,
The power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small—
But the glory of the Lord is all in all.

This poem, with the signature "R. D. B. in memoriam M. F. G." first appeared in the University Magazine in 1879. Although it has been included in some anthologies, the author's name was kept an absolute secret until July, 1909. In the AthenÆum for 3 July, 1909, was printed an interesting letter from Agnes E. Cook, by which we learn that the late Mr. Blackmore actually dreamed this poem, in its exact language and metre. The letter from the author which was published in the same AthenÆum article, gives the facts connected with this extraordinary dream.

Teddⁿ Jan^y 5^th 1879.
My Dear Sir.
Having lately been at the funeral of a most dear relation I was there again (in a dream) last night, and heard the mourners sing the lines enclosed, which impressed me so that I was able to write them without change of a word this morning. I never heard or read them before to my knowledge. They do not look so well on paper as they sounded; but if you like to print them, here they are. Only please not to put my name beyond initials or send me money for them. With all good wishes to Mrs. Cook and yourself
Very truly yours
R. D. Blackmore.
K Cook Esq^re L.L.D.

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