Myth and Romance Part 6

The heaven was starless, the forest was deep, And the vistas of darkness stretched silent in sleep.

And late 'mid the trees had I lingered until No thing was awake but the lone whippoorwill.

And haunted of thoughts for an hour I sat On a lichen-gray rock where the moss was a mat.

And thinking of one whom my heart had held dear, Like terrible waters, a gathering fear.

Came stealing upon me with all the distress Of loss and of yearning and powerlessness:

Till the hopes and the doubts and the sleepless unrest That, swallow-like, built in the home of my breast,

Now hither, now thither, now heavenward flew, Wild-winged as the winds are: now suddenly drew

My soul to abysses of nothingness where All light was a shadow, all hope, a despair:

Where truth, that religion had set upon high, The darkness distorted and changed to a lie:

And dreams of the beauty ambition had fed Like leaves of the autumn fell blighted and dead.

And I rose with my burden of anguish and doom, And cried, "O my G.o.d, had I died in the womb!

"Than born into night, with no hope of the morn, An heir unto shadows, to live so forlorn!

"All effort is vain; and the planet called Faith Sinks down; and no power is real but death.

"Oh, light me a torch in the deepening dark So my sick soul may follow, my sad heart may mark!"--

And then in the darkness the answer!--It came From Earth not from Heaven--a glimmering flame,

Behold, at my feet! In the shadow it shone Mysteriously lovely and dimly alone:

An ember; a sparkle of dew and of glower; Like the lamp that a spirit hangs under a flower:

As goldenly green as the phosphorus star A fairy may wear in her diadem's bar:

An element essence of moonlight and dawn That, trodden and trampled, burns on and burns on.

And hushed was my soul with the lesson of light That G.o.d had revealed to me there in the night:

Though mortal its structure, material its form, The spiritual message of worm unto worm.

_Ghosts_

Was it the strain of the waltz that, repeating "Love," so bewitched me? or only the gleam There of the l.u.s.tres, that set my heart beating, Feeling your presence as one feels a dream?

For, on a sudden, the woman of fashion, Soft at my side in her diamonds and lace, Vanished, and pale with reproach or with pa.s.sion, You, my dead sweetheart, smiled up in my face.

Music, the nebulous lights, and the sifting Fragrance of women made amorous the air; Born of these three and my thoughts you came drifting, Clad in dim muslin, a rose in your hair.

There in the waltz, that followed the lancers, Hard to my breast did I crush you and hold; Far through the stir and the throng of the dancers Onward I bore you as often of old.

Pale were your looks; and the rose in your tresses Paler of hue than the dreams we have lost;-- "Who," then I said, "is it sees or who guesses, Here in the hall, that I dance with a ghost?"

Gone! And the dance and the music are ended.

Gone! And the rapture dies out of the skies.

And, on my arm, in her elegance splendid, The woman of fashion smiles up in my eyes.

Had I forgotten? and did you remember?-- You, who are dead, whom I cannot forget; You, for whose sake all my heart is an ember Covered with ashes of dreams and regret.

_The Purple Valleys_

Far in the purple valleys of illusion I see her waiting, like the soul of music, With deep eyes, lovelier than cerulean pansies, Shadow and fire, yet merciless as poison; With red lips, sweeter than Arabian storax, Yet bitterer than myrrh.--O tears and kisses!

O eyes and lips, that haunt my soul forever!

Again Spring walks transcendent on the mountains: The woods are hushed: the vales are blue with shadows: Above the heights, steeped in a thousand splendors, Like some vast canvas of the G.o.ds, hangs burning The sunset's wild sciography: and slowly The moon treads heaven's proscenium,--night's stately White queen of love and tragedy and madness.

Again I know forgotten dreams and longings; Ideals lost; desires dead and buried Beside the altar sacrifice erected Within the heart's high sanctuary. Strangely Again I know the horror and the rapture, The utterless awe, the joy akin to anguish, The terror and the worship of the spirit.

Again I feel her eyes pierce through and through me; Her deep eyes, lovelier than imperial pansies, Velvet and flame, through which her fierce will holds me, Powerless and tame, and draws me on and onward To sad, unsatisfied and animal yearnings, Wild, unrestrained--the brute within the human-- To fling me panting on her mouth and bosom.

Again I feel her lips like ice and fire, Her red lips, odorous as Arabian storax, Fragrance and fire, within whose kiss destruction Lies serpent-like. Intoxicating languors Resistlessly embrace me, soul and body; And we go drifting, drifting--she is laughing-- Outcasts of G.o.d, into the deep's abysm.

_The Land of Illusion_

I

So we had come at last, my soul and I, Into that land of shadowy plain and peak, On which the dawn seemed ever about to break On which the day seemed ever about to die.

II

Long had we sought fulfillment of our dreams, The everlasting wells of Joy and Youth; Long had we sought the snow-white flow'r of Truth, That blooms eternal by eternal streams.

III