Astrophel and Other Poems Part 9

IV

But he--to him, who knows what gift is thine, Death? Hardly may we think or hope, when we Pa.s.s likewise thither where to-night is he, Beyond the irremeable outer seas that shine And darken round such dreams as half divine Some sunlit harbour in that starless sea Where gleams no ship to windward or to lee, To read with him the secret of thy shrine.

There too, as here, may song, delight, and love, The nightingale, the sea-bird, and the dove, Fulfil with joy the splendour of the sky Till all beneath wax bright as all above: But none of all that search the heavens, and try The sun, may match the sovereign eagle's eye.

_December 14._

V

Among the wondrous ways of men and time He went as one that ever found and sought And bore in hand the lamplike spirit of thought To illume with instance of its fire sublime The dusk of many a cloudlike age and clime.

No spirit in shape of light and darkness wrought, No faith, no fear, no dream, no rapture, nought That blooms in wisdom, nought that burns in crime, No virtue girt and armed and helmed with light, No love more lovely than the snows are white, No serpent sleeping in some dead soul's tomb, No song-bird singing from some live soul's height, But he might hear, interpret, or illume With sense invasive as the dawn of doom.

VI

What secret thing of splendour or of shade Surmised in all those wandering ways wherein Man, led of love and life and death and sin, Strays, climbs, or cowers, allured, absorbed, afraid, Might not the strong and sunlike sense invade Of that full soul that had for aim to win Light, silent over time's dark toil and din, Life, at whose touch death fades as dead things fade?

O spirit of man, what mystery moves in thee That he might know not of in spirit, and see The heart within the heart that seems to strive, The life within the life that seems to be, And hear, through all thy storms that whirl and drive, The living sound of all men's souls alive?

VII

He held no dream worth waking: so he said, He who stands now on death's triumphal steep, Awakened out of life wherein we sleep And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead.

But never death for him was dark or dread: "Look forth" he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep, All ye that trust not in his truth, and keep Vain memory's vision of a vanished head As all that lives of all that once was he Save that which lightens from his word: but we, Who, seeing the sunset-coloured waters roll, Yet know the sun subdued not of the sea, Nor weep nor doubt that still the spirit is whole, And life and death but shadows of the soul.

_December 15._

SUNSET AND MOONRISE

NEW YEAR'S EVE, 1889

All the west, whereon the sunset sealed the dead year's glorious grave Fast with seals of light and fire and cloud that light and fire illume, Glows at heart and kindles earth and heaven with joyous blush and bloom, Warm and wide as life, and glad of death that only slays to save.

As a tide-reconquered sea-rock lies aflush with the influent wave Lies the light aflush with darkness, lapped about by l.u.s.trous gloom, Even as life with death, and fame with time, and memory with the tomb Where a dead man hath for va.s.sals Fame the serf and Time the slave.

Far from earth as heaven, the steadfast light withdrawn, superb, suspense, Burns in dumb divine expansion of illimitable flower: Moonrise whets the shadow's edges keen as noontide: hence and thence Glows the presence from us pa.s.sing, shines and pa.s.ses not the power.

Souls arise whose word remembered is as spirit within the sense: All the hours are theirs of all the seasons: death has but his hour.

BIRTHDAY ODE

AUGUST 6, 1891

I

Love and praise, and a length of days whose shadow cast upon time is light, Days whose sound was a spell shed round from wheeling wings as of doves in flight, Meet in one, that the mounting sun to-day may triumph, and cast out night.

Two years more than the full fourscore lay hallowing hands on a sacred head-- Scarce one score of the perfect four uncrowned of fame as they smiled and fled: Still and soft and alive aloft their sunlight stays though the suns be dead.

Ere we were or were thought on, ere the love that gave us to life began, Fame grew strong with his crescent song, to greet the goal of the race they ran, Song with fame, and the l.u.s.trous name with years whose changes acclaimed the man.

II

Soon, ere time in the rounding rhyme of choral seasons had hailed us men, We too heard and acclaimed the word whose breath was life upon England then-- Life more bright than the breathless light of soundless noon in a songless glen.

Ah, the joy of the heartstruck boy whose ear was opened of love to hear!

Ah, the bliss of the burning kiss of song and spirit, the mounting cheer Lit with fire of divine desire and love that knew not if love were fear!

Fear and love as of heaven above and earth enkindled of heaven were one; One white flame, that around his name grew keen and strong as the worldwide sun; Awe made bright with implied delight, as weft with weft of the rainbow spun.

III

He that fears not the voice he hears and loves shall never have heart to sing: All the grace of the sun-G.o.d's face that bids the soul as a fountain spring Bids the brow that receives it bow, and hail his likeness on earth as king.

We that knew when the sun's shaft flew beheld and worshipped, adored and heard: Light rang round it of shining sound, whence all men's hearts were subdued and stirred: Joy, love, sorrow, the day, the morrow, took life upon them in one man's word.

Not for him can the years wax dim, nor downward swerve on a darkening way: Upward wind they, and leave behind such light as lightens the front of May: Fair as youth and sublime as truth we find the fame that we hail to-day.

THRENODY

OCTOBER 6, 1892

I

Life, sublime and serene when time had power upon it and ruled its breath, Changed it, bade it be glad or sad, and hear what change in the world's ear saith, Shines more fair in the starrier air whose glory lightens the dusk of death.

Suns that sink on the wan sea's brink, and moons that kindle and flame and fade, Leave more clear for the darkness here the stars that set not and see not shade Rise and rise on the lowlier skies by rule of sunlight and moonlight swayed.

So, when night for his eyes grew bright, his proud head pillowed on Shakespeare's breast, Hand in hand with him, soon to stand where shine the glories that death loves best, Pa.s.sed the light of his face from sight, and sank sublimely to radiant rest.

II

Far above us and all our love, beyond all reach of its voiceless praise, Shines for ever the name that never shall feel the shade of the changeful days Fall and chill the delight that still sees winter's light on it shine like May's.