Collected Poems Volume II Part 3

I

Come, the dusk is lit with flowers!

Quietly take this guiding hand: Little breath to waste is ours On the road to lovers' land.

Time is in his dungeon-keep!

Ah, not thither, lest he hear, Starting from his old grey sleep, Rosy feet upon the stair.

II

Ah, not thither, lest he heed Ere we reach the rusty door!

Nay, the stairways only lead Back to his dark world once more: There's a merrier way we know Leading to a lovelier night-- See, your cas.e.m.e.nt all a-glow Diamonding the wonder-light.

III

Fling the flowery lattice wide, Let the silken ladder down, Swiftly to the garden glide Glimmering in your long white gown, Rosy from your pillow, sweet, Come, unsandalled and divine; Let the blossoms stain your feet And the stars behold them shine.

IV

Swift, our pawing palfreys wait, And the page--Dan Cupid--frets, Holding at the garden gate Reins that chime like castanets, Bits a-foam with fairy flakes Flung from seas whence Venus rose: Come, for Father Time awakes And the star of morning glows.

V

Swift--one satin foot shall sway Half a heart-beat in my hand, Swing to stirrup and swift away Down the road to lovers' land: Ride--the moon is dusky gold, Ride--our hearts are young and warm, Ride--the hour is growing old, And the next may break the charm.

VI

Swift, ere we that thought the song Full--for others--of the truth, We that smiled, contented, strong, Dowered with endless wealth of youth, Find that like a summer cloud Youth indeed has crept away, Find the robe a clinging shroud And the hair be-sprent with grey.

VII

Ride--we'll leave it all behind, All the turmoil and the tears, All the mad vindictive blind Yelping of the heartless years!

Ride--the ringing world's in chase, Yet we've slipped old Father Time, By the love-light in your face And the jingle of this rhyme.

VIII

Ride--for still the hunt is loud!

Ride--our steeds can hold their own!

Yours, a satin sea-wave, proud, Queen, to be your living throne, Glittering with the foam and fire Churned from seas whence Venus rose, Tow'rds the gates of our desire Gloriously burning flows.

IX

He, with streaming flanks a-smoke, Needs no spur of blood-stained steel: Only that soft thudding stroke Once, o' the little satin heel, Drives his mighty heart, your slave, Bridled with these bells of rhyme, Onward, like a crested wave Thundering out of hail of Time.

X

On, till from a rosy spark Fairy-small as gleams your hand, Broadening as we cleave the dark, Dawn the gates of lovers' land, Nearing, sweet, till breast and brow Lifted through the purple night Catch the deepening glory now And your eyes the wonder-light.

XI

E'en as tow'rd your face I lean Swooping nigh the gates of bliss, I the king and you the queen Crown each other with a kiss.

Riding, soaring like a song Burn we tow'rds the heaven above, You the sweet and I the strong And in both the fire of love.

XII

Ride--though now the distant chase Knows that we have slipped old Time, Lift the love-light of your face, Shake the bridle of this rhyme, See, the flowers of night and day Streaming past on either hand, Ride into the eternal May, Ride into the lovers' land.

THE ROCK POOL

I

Bright as a fallen fragment of the sky, Mid sh.e.l.l-encrusted rocks the sea-pool shone, Gla.s.sing the sunset-clouds in its clear heart, A small enchanted world enwalled apart In diamond mystery, Content with its own dreams, its own strict zone Of urchin woods, its fairy bights and bars, Its daisy-disked anemones and rose-feathered stars.

II

Forsaken for awhile by that deep roar Which works in storm and calm the eternal will, Drags down the cliffs, bids the great hills go by And shepherds their mult.i.tudinous pageantry,-- Here, on this ebb-tide sh.o.r.e A jewelled bath of beauty, sparkling still, The little sea-pool smiled away the sea, And slept on its own plane of bright tranquillity.

III

A self-sufficing soul, a pool in trance, Un-stirred by all the spirit-winds that blow From o'er the gulfs of change, content, ere yet On its own crags, which rough peaked limpets fret The last rich colours glance, Content to mirror the sea-bird's wings of snow, Or feel in some small creek, ere sunset fails, A tiny Nautilus hoist its lovely purple sails;

IV

And, furrowing into pearl that rosy bar, Sail its own soul from fairy fringe to fringe, Lured by the twinkling prey 'twas born to reach In its own pool, by many an elfin beach Of jewels, adventuring far Through the last mirrored cloud and sunset-tinge And past the rainbow-dripping cave where lies The dark green pirate-crab at watch with beaded eyes,

V

Or fringed Medusa floats like light in light, Medusa, with the loveliest of all fays Pent in its irised bubble of jellied sheen, Trailing long ferns of moonlight, shot with green And crimson rays and white, Waving ethereal tendrils, ghostly sprays, Daring the deep, dissolving in the sun, The vanishing point of life, the light whence life begun.