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In the rayless scarab of the sinking sun ;
And out of that is won
Hardly, with labour and pain that are as pleasure,
The first flower of the garden, the stored treasure
That lies at the heart s heart of eternity.
This treasure is for thee.
16. O ! but shall hope arise in happiness ?
That may not be.
My life is like a gholden grape ; the veins
ROSA MUNDI--143
Peep through the ecstasy
Of the essence of ivory and silk,
Pearl, moonlight, mother-milk
That is her skin ;
Its swift caress
Flits like an angel s kiss in a dream ; remains
The healing virtue ; from all sin,
All ill, one touch sets free.
My life is like a star oh fool ! oh fool !
Is not thy back yet tender from the rod ?
Is there no learning in the poet s school ?
Wilt thou achieve what were too hard for God ?
I call Him to the battle ; ask of me
When the hinds calve ? What of eternity
When he built chaos ? Shall Leviathan
Be drawn out with an hook ? Enough ; I see
This I can answer or Ernst Haeckel can !
Now, God Almighty, rede this mystery !
What of the love that is the heart of man ?
Take stars and airs, and write it down !
Fill all the interstices of space
With myriad verse own Thy disgrace !
Diminish Thy renown !
Approve my riddle ! This Thou canst not do.
144--AMBERGRIS
17. O living Rose ! O dowered with subtle dew
Of love, the tiny eternities of time,
Caught between flying seconds, are well filled
With these futilities of fragrant rime ;
In Love s retort distilled,
In sunrays of fierce loathing purified,
In moonrays of pure longing tried,
And gathered after many moons of labour
Into the complass of a single day,
And wrought into continuous tune,
One laughter with one languor for its neighbour,
One thought of winter with one word of June,
Muddled and mixed in mere dismay,
Chiselled with the cunning chisel fo despair,
Found wanting, well aware
Of its own fault, even insistent
Thereon ; some fragrance rare
Stolen from my lady s hair
Perchance redeeming now and then the distant
Fugitive tunes.
18. Ah ! Love ! the hour is over !
The moon is up, the vigil overpast.
Call me to thee at last,
O Rose, O perfect miracle lover,
ROSA MUNDI--145
Call me ! I hear thee though it be across
The abyss of the whole universe,
Though not a sigh escape, delicious loss !
Though hardly a wish rehearse
The imperfection underlying ever
The perfect happiness.
Thou knowest that not in flesh
Lies the fair fresh
Delight of love ; not in mere lips and eyes
The secret of these bridal ecstasies,
Since thou art everywhere,
Rose of the World, Rose of the Uttermost
Abode of Glory, Rose of the High Host
Of Heaven, mystic, rapturous Rose !
The extreme passion glows
Deep in this breast ; thou knowest (and love knows)
How every word awakes its own reward
In a thought akin to thee, a shadow of thee ;
And every tune evokes its musical Lrod ;
And every rime tingles and shakes in me
The filaments of the great web of love.
19. O Rose all roses far above
In the garden of God s roses,
Sorrowless, thornless, passionate Rose, that lies
146--AMBERGRIS
Full in the flood of its own sympathies
And makes my life one tune that curls and closes
On its won self delight ;
A circle, never a line ! Safe from all wind,
Secure in its own pleasure-house confined,
Mistress of all its moods,
Matchless, serene, in sacred amplitudes
Of its own royal rapture, deaf and blind
To aught but its own mastery of song
And light, shown ever as silence and deep night
Secret as death and final. Let me long
Never again for aught ! This great delight
Involves me, weaves me in its pattern of bliss,
Seals me with its own kiss,
Draws me to thee with every dream that glows.
Poet, each word ! Makden, each burden of snows
Extending beyond sunset, beyond dawn !
O Rose, inviolate, utterly wirthdrawn
In the truth : for this is truth ; Love knows !
Ah ! Rose of the World ! Rose! Rose !
147
OTHER LOVE-SONGS
Dora
Dora steals across the floor Tiptoe ;
Opens then her rosy door, Peeps out.
Nobody ! And where shall I Skip to ?
Dora, diving daintily, Creeps out.
To the woodland ! Shall I find Crowtoe,
Violet, jessamine ! I ll bind Garlands.
Fancy I m a princess. Where Go to ?
Persia, China, Finisterre ? Far lands !
148--AMBERGRIS
Pity Dora ! Only one Daisy
Did she find. The sulking sun Slept still.
Dora stamped her foot. Aurora Lazy
Stirred not. Hush ! A footstep. Dora Kept still.
What a dreadful monster ! Shoot ! Mercy !
( Twas a man.) Suppose the brute Ate her ?
By-and-by the ruffian grows Percy.
And she loves him now she knows Better.
149
Norah
Norah, my wee shy child of wonderment,
You are sweeter than a swallow-song at dusk !
You are braver than a lark that soars and trills
His lofty laughter of love to a hundred hills !
You lie like a sweet nut within the husk
Of my big arms ; and uttermost content
I have of you, my tiny fairy, eh ?
Do you live in a flower, I wonder, and sleep and pray
To the good God to send you dew at dawn
And rain in rain s soft season, and sun betimes,
And all the gladness of the afterglow
When you come shyly out of the folded bud,
Unsheath your dainty soul, bathe it is blood
Of my heart ? Do you love me ? Do you know
How I love you ? Do you love these twitter-ing rimes
I string you ? Is your tiny life withdrawn
150--AMBERGRIS
Into its cup for modesty when I sing
So softly to you and hold you in my hands,
You wild, wee wonder of wisdom ? Now I bring [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
