Chapter V

O thou, who, haply, tellest
To birds their wild wood glee;
Who in the water wellest
As murmuring melody;
And in the wood-wind dwellest
As music,--sing to me
Of that no man may see!

TEMPEST

The trees before the coming storm
Toss, wild as leaping Corybants
Who fling to Cybele an arm
Of rapture, and a face that pants
Through hair the ritual frenzy slants.

Vague, stormy shapes of tempest sit,
August, majestic, and immense,
Beneath the stars--as, lightning-lit,
A god might give wild audience
To awe and night and violence.

Storm is her signet; hers, who writes
Stern laws in flame; and, shadowy,
With thunder seals the rolled-out nights,
And sits in terrible mystery--
The mountain-crownéd Cybele.

REVELATION

I write these things that men may hear.

This was the word that gave me cheer:
There sate a dæmon at mine ear,
Who whispered me, “Man knoweth naught.--
First know thyself wouldst thou know aught.”

This was the word that brought me grace:
There fell a shape before my face,
Who motioned me, “All forms are sin’s.--
He aims above himself who wins.”

This was the word that made me wise:
There stood an angel at mine eyes,
Who looked, “The world lives selfishly.--
Give thy own self if thou wouldst see.”

These are the words they brought to me.

ANALOGIES

Of Rosamond the beautiful, of her
The joy and pride of Cunimund,--last king
Of the fierce Gepidæ,--a warrior
Such as the old-world minstrels loved to sing,
To Alboin, Prince of Lombardy,--at war
With Cunimund her father,--fame did bring
Report of such proud loveliness and grace
That he had loved her ere he saw her face.

War was between them and the hate of thrones:
For he had slain a son of Turismund
And brother of King Cunimund. His bones
Were as a wall between desire--unsunned
Of such encouragement as young Love owns;
Young Love, before the ruined lips that stunned
Appeal with dead defiance, and the grim
Confrontment mocking as the hopes of him.--

Such oft is Life! that, standing with despair,
Looks on some crime,--as looked the conqueror
Of Rosamond,--ere goaded on to dare
Fate through the stern arbitrament of war:
Death smiles within the danger of her hair;
Defeat, more deadly than the wild Avar,
Looks, armored, from her eyes; and in her mouth
An exarch marshals legions from the south.

Yet, should he so prevail against her might--
Her woman Pride, her hosts of beautiful
Angers and scorns--that she be forced, some night,
To pledge him faith in Hate’s full cup, a skull--
What though he sees Revenge writ, fiery white,
Upon her brow! revenge, that hides a dull
Poison for sleep, or dagger all prepared!--
Life writes not _Failure_ where Fate writes _He dared_.

MNEMONICS

It shall not be forgotten
Of any one who sees,--
The sorrel-flow’r amid the moss,
The wind-flow’r ’mid the trees.

Though I can but remember
All flowers by _her_ face,
That flow’r, which is my life’s perfume,
Kin to the wild-flow’r race.

It shall not be forgotten
Of any one who looks,--
The evening-star above the hills,
Its image in the brooks.

Though I can but remember
All planets by _her_ eyes,
Those stars, which are my destiny,
Bright sisters to the skies’.

And, oh, the song that follows
The wing-beat of the bird!--
It shall not be forgotten
When once such song is heard.

Though I can but remember
All music by _her_ words,
Her voice, which is my heart’s response,
Kin to the building bird’s.

How _can_ they be forgotten,
The fair and fugitive,
When in all birds and stars and flowers
Love’s intimations live!

ASSUMPTION

I

A mile of moonlight and the whispering wood:
A mile of shadow and the odorous lane:
One large, white star above the solitude,
Like one sweet wish: and, laughter after pain,
Wild roses wistful in a web of rain.

II

No star, no rose, to lesson him and lead,
No woodsman compass of the skies and rocks,--
Tattooed with stars and lichens,--doth love need
To guide him where, among the hollyhocks,
A blur of moonlight, gleam his sweetheart’s locks.