  Vision A valley of far-fallen rocks, Like bones of mouldering mountains, spread, And ended by the barren blocks Of mountains doom’d or dead: No rivage there with green recess Made music in that wilderness. Despairing fell the sore-spent Sun, And cried, ‘I die,’ and sank in fire; Like conquering Death, the Night came on And ran from spire to spire; And swollen-pale ascended soon, Like Death in Life, the leprous Moon. On windy ledges lined with light, Between the still Stars sparsely strewn, Two Spirits grew from out the Night Beneath the mistless Moon, And held deep parley, making thought With words sententious half distraught. One full-robed; in his hand a book; His lips, that labour’d for the word, Scarce moved in utterance; and his look Sought, not his face who heard, But that Sad Star that sobs alway Upon the breast of dying Day. One, weary, with two-handed stress Leant on his shoulder-touching spear His beard blown o’er the hairiness Of his great breast; and clear His eyes shot speculation out To catch the truth or quell the doubt. 1. ‘The dreams of Hope, of blue-eyed Hope, Melt after morn and die in day; Love’s golden dew-globe, lit aslope, Dulls with a downward ray; Canst thou with all thy thought renew The flying dreams or drying dew?’ 2. ‘Not I creator. Hour by hour I labour without stress or strife To gain more knowledge, greater power, A nobler, longer life. By thought alone we take our stand Above the world and win command.’ 1. ‘Know, Knowledge doth but clip our wings, And worldly Wisdom weaken worth, To make us lords of little things, And worm-gods of the earth. Were earth made Heaven by human wit, Some wild star yet might shatter it.’ 2. ‘The wings of Fancy are but frail, And Virtue’s without Wisdom weak; Better than Falsehood’s flowery vale, The Truth, however bleak. Tho’ she may bless not nor redeem, The Truth is true, and reigns supreme.’ 1. ‘Not all, but few, can plead and prove And crown their brows with Truth and pass; Their little labours cannot move The mountain’s mighty mass. To man in vain the Truth appeals, Or Heav’n ordains, or Art reveals.’ 2. ‘So self-consuming thought. But see The standards of Advance unfurl’d; The buds are breaking on the lea, And Spring strikes thro’ the world. Tho’ we may never reach the Peak, God gave this great commandment, Seek.’ . . . . . The ponderous bolts of Night were drawn; The pale Day peer’d thro’ cloudy bars; The Wind awoke; the sword of Dawn Flasht thro’ the flying Stars; The new-born Sun-Star smote the Gloom: The Desert burst in endless Bloom. Bangalore, 1890. |
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