A Cluster of Grapes Part 3

Where my fathers stood, watching the sea, Gale-spent herring boats hugging the lea; There my Mother lives, moorland and tree.

Sight o' the blossoms! Devon to me!

Where my fathers walked, driving the plough; Whistled their hearts out--who whistles now?-- There my Mother burns fire f.a.ggots free.

Scent o' the wood-smoke! Devon to me!

Where my fathers sat, pa.s.sing their bowls; --They've no cider now, G.o.d rest their souls!

There my Mother feeds red cattle three.

Sup o' the cream-pan! Devon to me!

Where my fathers sleep, turning to dust, This old body throw when die I must!

There my Mother calls, wakeful is she!

Sound o' the West-wind! Devon to me!

Where my fathers lie, when I am gone, Who need pity me, dead? Never one!

There my Mother clasps me. Let me be!

Feel o' the red earth! Devon to me!

EVA GORE-BOOTH

MAEVE OF THE BATTLES

I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill, And I know that the deed that is in my heart is her deed, And my soul is blown about by the wild wind of her will, For always the living must follow whither the dead would lead-- I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.

I would dream a dream at twilight of ease and beauty and peace-- A dream of light on the mountains, and calm on the restless sea; A dream of the gentle days of the world when battle shall cease And the things that are in hatred and wrath no longer shall be.

I would dream a dream at twilight of ease and beauty and peace.

The foamless waves are falling soft on the sands of Lissadil And the world is wrapped in quiet and a floating dream of grey; But the wild winds of the twilight blow straight from the haunted hill And the stars come out of the darkness and shine over Knocknarea-- I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.

There is no rest for the soul that has seen the wild eyes of Maeve; No rest for the heart once caught in the net of her yellow hair-- No quiet for the fallen wind, no peace for the broken wave; Rising and falling, falling and rising with soft sounds everywhere, There is no rest for the soul that has seen the wild eyes of Maeve.

I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill And I know that the deed that is in my heart is her deed; And my soul is blown about by the wild winds of her will, For always the living must follow whither the dead would lead-- I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.

RE-INCARNATION

The darkness draws me, kindly angels weep Forlorn beyond receding rings of light, The torrents of the earth's desires sweep My soul through twilight downward into night.

Once more the light grows dim, the vision fades, Myself seems to myself a distant goal, I grope among the bodies' drowsy shades, Once more the Old Illusion rocks my soul.

Once more the Manifold in shadowy streams Of falling waters murmurs in my ears, The One Voice drowns amid the roar of dreams That crowd the narrow pathway of the years.

I go to seek the starshine on the waves, To count the dewdrops on the gra.s.sy hill, I go to gather flowers that grow on graves, The worlds' wall closes round my prisoned will.

Yea, for the sake of the wild western wind The sphered spirit scorns her flame-built throne, Because of primroses, time out of mind, The Lonely turns away from the Alone.

Who once has loved the cornfield's rustling sheaves, Who once has heard the gentle Irish rain Murmur low music in the growing leaves, Though he were G.o.d, comes back to earth again.

Oh Earth! green wind-swept Eirinn, I would break The tower of my soul's initiate pride For a grey field and a star-haunted lake, And those wet winds that roam the country side.

I who have seen am glad to close my eyes, I who have soared am weary of my wings, I seek no more the secret of the wise, Safe among shadowy, unreal human things.

Blind to the gleam of those wild violet rays That burn beyond the rainbow's circle dim, Bound by dark nights and driven by pale days, The sightless slave of Time's imperious whim;

Deaf to the flowing tide of dreams divine That surge outside the closed gates of birth, The rhythms of eternity, too fine To touch with music the dull ears of earth--

I go to seek with humble care and toil The dreams I left undreamed, the deeds undone, To sow the seed and break the stubborn soil, Knowing no brightness whiter than the sun.

Content in winter if the fire burns clear And cottage walls keep out the creeping damp, Hugging the Old Illusion warm and dear, The Silence and the Wise Book and the Lamp.

LEONARDO DA VINCI

He in his deepest mind That inner harmony divined That lit the soul of John And in the glad eyes shone Of Dionysos, and dwelt Where Angel Gabriel knelt Under the dark cypress spires; And thrilled with flameless fires Of Secret Wisdom's rays The Giaconda's smiling gaze; Curving with delicate care The pearls in Beatrice d'Este's hair; Hiding behind the veil Of eyelids long and pale, In the strange gentle vision dim Of the unknown Christ who smiled on him.

His was no vain dream Of the things that seem, Of date and name.

He overcame The Outer False with the Inner True, And overthrew The empty show and thin deceits of s.e.x, Pale nightmares of this barren world that vex The soul of man, shaken by every breeze Too faint to stir the silver olive trees Or lift the Dryad's smallest straying tress Frozen in her clear marble loveliness.

He, in curved lips and smiling eyes, Hid the last secret's faint surprise Of one who dies in fear and pain And lives and knows herself again.

He, in his dreaming under the sun, Saw change and the unchanging One, And built in grottoes blue a shrine To hold Reality Divine.

JOHN GURDON

SURRENDER

Like the diamond spark of the morning star When night grows pale Love gleams in the depths of thine eyes afar Through the rifted veil Of thy cloudy dreams.

I saw in the glint of thy wavy hair His splendour shine A moment, and now thy cheeks declare The fire divine In their rosy streams.

It leaps from thy face to mine, and flushes From brow to chin.

The hot blood sings in my ears and gushes With surge and spin Through my tingling veins.

I lift up my heart for thy fervent lips To kiss, my sweet.

I would lift up my soul, but she swooning slips Down at thy feet, And the rainbow stains.

Brighten and cloud on her wings that close And open slow, As a b.u.t.terfly's move, on the breast of a rose Rocked to and fro By a crooning wind.

O star! O blossom! I faint for bliss.

I faint for thee; For the kiss on my closed eyes, thy kiss In ecstasy That leaves me blind.