  ALMA SDEGNOSANot that dull spleen which serves i' the world for scorn, Is hers I watch from far off, worshipping As in remote Chaldaea the ancient king Adored the star that heralded the morn. Her proud content she bears as a flag is borne Tincted the hue royal; or as a wing It lifts her soaring, near the daylight spring, Whence, if she lift, our days must pass forlorn. The pure deriving of her spirit-state Is so remote from men and their believing, They shrink when she is cold, and estimate That hardness which is but a God's dismay: As when the Heaven-sent sprite thro' Hell sped cleaving, Only the gross air checkt him on his way. THE WINDS' POSSESSIONWhen winds blow high and leaves begin to fall, And the wan sunlight flits before the blast; When fields are brown and crops are garnered all, And rooks, like mastered ships, drift wide and fast; Maid Artemis, that feeleth her young blood Leap like a freshet river for the sea, Speedeth abroad with hair blown in a flood To snuff the salt west wind and wanton free. Then would you know how brave she is, how high Her ancestry, how kindred to the wind, Mark but her flashing feet, her ravisht eye That takes the boist'rous weather and feels it kind: And hear her eager voice, how tuned it is To Autumn's clarion shrill for Artemis. ASPETTO REALEThat hour when thou and Grief were first acquainted Thou wrotest, "Come, for I have lookt on death." Piteous I held my indeterminate breath And sought thee out, and saw how he had painted Thine eyes with rings of black; yet never fainted Thy radiant immortality underneath Such stress of dark; but then, as one that saith, "I know Love liveth," sat on by death untainted. O to whom Grief too poignant was and dry To sow in thee a fountain crop of tears! O youth, O pride, set too remote and high For touch of solace that gives grace to men! Thy life must be our death, thy hopes our fears: We weep, thou lookest strangely—we know thee then! KIN CONFESSEDLong loving, all our love was husbanded Until one morning on the brown hillside, One misty Autumn morn when Sun did hide His radiance, yet was felt. No words we said, But in one flash transfigured, glorified, All her heart's tumult beating white and red, She fell prone on her face and hid her wide Over-brimmed eyes in dewy fern. I prayed, Then spake, "In us two now is manifest That throbbing kindred whereof thou art graft And I the grafted, in this holy place." She, turning half, with sober shame confest Discovery, then hid her rosy face. I read her wilding heart, and my heart laught. QUEL GIORNO PIÙ ...That day—it was the last of many days, Nor could we know when such days might be given Again—we read how Dante trod the ways Of utmost Hell, and how his heart was riven By sad Francesca, whose sin was forgiven So far that, on her Paolo fixing gaze, She supt on his again, and thought it Heaven, She knew her gentler fate and felt it praise. We read that lovers' tale; each lookt at each; But one was fearless, innocent of guile; So did the other learn what she could teach: We read no more, we kiss'd not, but a smile Of proud possession flasht, hover'd a while 'Twixt soul and soul. There was no need for speech. ABSENCEWhen she had left us but a little while Methought I sensed her spirit here and there About my house: upon the empty stair Her robe brusht softly; o'er her chamber still There lay her fragrant presence to beguile Numb heart, dead heart. I knelt before her chair, And praying felt her hand laid on my hair, Felt her sweet breath, and guess'd her wistful smile. Then thro' my tears I lookt about the room, But she was gone. I heard my heart beat fast; The street was silent; I could not see her now. Sorrow and I took up our load, and past To where our station was with heads bent low, And autumn's death-moan shiver'd thro' the gloom. PRESENCEWhen she had left us but a little while, I still could hear the ringing of her voice, Still see athwart the dusk her shy half-smile And that sweet trust wherein I most rejoice. Then in her self-same tones I heard, "Go thou, Set to that work appointed thee to do, Remembering I am with thee here and now, Watchful as ever. See, my eyes shine true!" I lookt, and saw the concourse of clear stars, Steadfast, of limpid candour, and could discover Her soul look on me thro' the prison-bars Which slunk like sin from such an honest Lover: And thro' the vigil-pauses of that night She beam'd on me; and my soul felt her light. DREAM ANGUISHMy thought of thee is tortured in my sleep— Sometimes thou art near beside me, but a cloud Doth grudge me thy pale face, and rise to creep Slowly about thee, to lap thee in a shroud; And I, as standing by my dead, to weep Desirous, cannot weep, nor cry aloud. Or we must face the clamouring of a crowd Hissing our shame; and I who ought to keep Thine honour safe and my betrayed heart proud, Knowing thee true, must watch a chill doubt leap The tired faith of thee, and thy head bow'd, Nor budge while the gross world holdeth thee cheap! Or there are frost-bound meetings, and reproach Love grown a pain; we bleed to kiss, and kiss Because we bleed for love; the time doth broach Shame, and shame teareth at us till we tear Our hearts to shreds—yet wilder love for this! HYMNIA-BEATRIXBefore you pass and leave me gaunt and chill Alone to do what I have joyed in doing In your glad sight, suffer me, nor take ill If I confess you prize and me pursuing. As the rapt Tuscan lifted up his eyes Whither his Lady led, and lived with her, Strong in her strength, and in her wisdom wise, Love-taught with song to be her thurifer; So I, that may no nearer stand than he To minister about the holy place, Am well content to watch my Heaven in thee And read my Credo in thy sacred face. For even as Beatrix Dante's wreath did bind, So, Hymnia, hast thou imparadised my mind. LUX E TENEBRISI thank all Gods that I can let thee go, Lady, without one thought, one base desire To tarnish that clear vision I gained by fire, One stain in me I would not have thee know. That is great might indeed that moves me so To look upon thy Form, and yet aspire To look not there, rather than I should mire That wingÉd Spirit that haunts and guards thy brow. So now I see thee go, secure in this That what I have is thee, that whole of thee Whereof thy fair infashioning is sign: For I see Honour, Love, and Wholesomeness, And striving ever to reach them, and to be As they, I keep thee still; for they are thine. DUTYOh, I am weak to serve thee as I ought; My shroud of flesh obscures thy deity, So thy sweet Spirit that should embolden me To shake my wings out wide, serves me for nought, But receives tarnish, vile dishonour, wrought By that thou earnest to bless—O agony And unendurable shame! that, loving thee, I dare not love, fearing my poisonous thought! Man is too vile for any such high grace, For that he seeks to honour he can but mar; So had I rather shun thy starry face And fly the exultation to know thee near— For if one glance from me wrought thee a scar 'Twould not be death, but life that I should fear. WAGESSometimes the spirit that never leaves me quite Taps at my heart when thou art in the way, Saying, Now thy Queen cometh: therefore pray, Lest she should see thee vile, and at the sight Shiver and fly back piteous to the light That wanes when she is absent. Then, as I may, I wash my soilÈd hands and muttering, say, Lord, make me clean; robe Thou me in Thy white! So for a brief space, clad in ecstasy, Pure, disembodied, I fall to kiss thy feet, And sense thy glory throbbing round about; Whereafter, rising, I hold thee in a sweet And gentle converse that lifts me up to be, When thou art gone, strange to the gross world's rout. EYE-SERVICEMeseems thine eyes are two still-folded lakes Wherein deep water reflects the guardian sky, Searching wherein I see how Heaven is nigh And our broad Earth at peace. So my Love takes My soul's thin hands and, chafing them, she makes My life's blood lusty and my life's hope high For the strong lips and eyes of Poesy, To hold the world well squandered for their sakes. I looked thee full this day: thine unveiled eyes Rayed their swift-searching magic forth; and then I felt all strength that love can put in men Whenas they know that loveliness is wise. For love can be content with no less prize, To lift us up beyond our mortal ken. CLOISTER THOUGHTS(AT WESTMINSTER)Within these long gray shadows many dead Lie waiting: we wait with them. Do you believe That at the last the threadbare soul will give All his shifts over, and stand dishevellÈd, Naked in truth? Then we shall hear it said, "Ye two have waited long, daring to live Grimly through days tormented; now reprieve Awaiteth you with all these ancient dead!" The slope sun letteth down thro' our dark bars His ladder from the skies. Hand fast in hand, With quiet hearts and footsteps quiet and slow, Like children venturous in an unknown land We will come to the fields whose flowers are stars, And kneeling ask, "Lord, wilt Thou crown us now?" |
|
