Nirvana Days Part 3

XII

Yet--no! She dared not go to him, To her he could not come.

Then, sudden a thought her being swept And struck her loud heart dumb.

Till in her rose confusion dim, Fear fighting with Desire-- Which to O-Shichi took the shape of Fudo, G.o.d of fire.

XIII

And Fudo won her: for that night Did fond O-Shichi dare To set aflame her father's house, Hoping again to share The temple with her acolyte, Her lover-priest, who, spent With speechless pa.s.sion for her face, in vain strove to repent.

XIV

But ah! what destiny can do Is not for folly's hand.

The flames O-Shichi kindled were From sea to Shiba fanned.

And it was learned a love-sick girl Had charred a thousand homes.

Then were the fury-smitten folk like to a sea that foams.

XV

And so they seized her: but not in The temple--O not there Had she been led again by priests In pity--led to share Her lover's eyes; no, but her sin Brought not one dear delight To poor O-Shichi--who was now to look on her last rite.

XVI

For to the stake they bound her--fire They lit--to be her fate....

O-Shichi, have I dreamt it all?

Your face, the temple gate, The fair boy-priest shut from desire In Buddhahood to-be?

Then let me dream and ever dream, O flower by Yedo's sea.

AS OF OLD

The fishermen bade their wives farewell, (The sun floated merry up the morning) They sang, to the rhythm of the low-swung swell, "O come, lads, scorning The highlands high, There's no warning In the blue south sky, There's no warning, O come, lads, free, We'll cross the harbor bar and put to sea!"

The fisherwives prayed, the sails blew fast, (O home it is happy where there's hoping) They prayed--till the mist dimmed each dim mast: Then "We're not moping,"

They sweetly sang, "Winds come groping And clouds o'erhang, But we're not moping Tho left ash.o.r.e; They'll come to us at dusk when day is o'er."

But swifter than G.o.d the sea-quake came, (The fishers they were swallowed in its swirling) O swifter than men could name G.o.d's name.

And white waves curling Hissed in to sh.o.r.e.

The sea-birds whirling Saw what, dashed h.o.a.r?

The sea-birds whirling Saw dead upborne The fishers that went forth upon the morn.

A PRAYER

One cricket left, of summer's choir.

One glow-worm, flashing life's last fire.

One frog with leathern croak Beneath the oak,-- And the pool stands leaden Where November twilights deaden Day's unspent desire.

One star in heaven--East or West.

One wind--a gypsy seeking rest.

One prayer within my heart-- For all who part Upon Death's dark portal, With no hope of an immortal Morrow for life's quest.

THE SONG OF A NATURE WORSHIPER

Live! Live! Live!

O send no day unto death, Undrained of the light, of the song, of the dew, Distilling within its breath.

Drink deep of the sun, drink deep of the night, Drink deep of the tempest's brew, Of summer, of winter, of autumn, of spring-- Whose flight can give what men never give!-- Live!

Live! Live! Live!

And love life's every throb: The twinkling of shadows enmeshed in the trees, The pa.s.sionate sunset's sob; The hurtling of wind, the heaving of hill, The moon-dizzy cloud, the seas That sweep with infinite sweeping all sh.o.r.es, And thrill with a joy unfugitive!-- Live!

Live! Live! Live!

Unloose from custom and care, From duty and sorrow and clinging design Thy soul, through the silent Air.

Go into the fields where Nature's alone And drink from her mystic wine Divinity--till thou art even as She, Great all ills of the world to forgive!

Live!

THE INFINITE'S QUEST

All night the rain And the wind that beat Dull wings of pain On the seas without.

All night a Voice That broke in my brain And blew blind thoughts about.

All night they whirled As a haunted throng From some dim world Where there is no rest.

All night the rain.

And the wind that swirled, And the Infinite's lone quest.

LAD AND La.s.s

I heard the buds open their lips and whisper, Whisper, "Spring is here!"