The Deluge and Other Poems Part 5

So He wove Him a piece of tapestry With fingers thrice refined, And He mingled the threads with subtlety, The threads of our human destiny, And the light with the dark He twined.

For shadow and shine were mingled there, And white was matched with red, And the thread of the silver gleamed more fair For the gloom that, surrounding, made it rare; And G.o.d in His wisdom said:

"Of my handiwork but the human soul Can suffer the laws of change, That only errs from my set control, And takes in pleasure, and pays in toll, The whole of its pa.s.sion's range.

"But who shall judge or who condemn This work that my hands have made, For the thread that here appears a gem, --So have I mingled and twisted them-- Is there the gleam of a blade?

"Nor evil nor good exists for me, As I mingle strand with strand; The past is the visible tapestry, The present I weave, and the destiny Of the future is in my hand.

"And the past and the future both are met In the present's history; For the thread I hold is unbroken yet, And the thing I weave is unguessed at yet, In this human tapestry."

WISDOM AND YOUTH

In the depths of the forest Merlin dreamed; The shuttle of noon wove light and shade Over the moss and around the trees, And a network among the branches made.

He sat with his back against a tree, Grey as himself, and gnarled, and old; The lichen was grey as the ragged beard Over his friezen mantle's fold.

Still he sat, like an ancient stone That time has forgotten to wear away-- While streamed the forest's green and gold, Like banners on a windy day.

And Merlin watched, as watches a tree, A sombre oak of antiquity, The myriad life that seethes and hums, Around its immobility.

Around himself, himself had made A monstrous and a mystic spell, Weblike, wherein he sat and dreamed; --So in its mesh may spider dwell!

His silence heard the things that grow In underwood of tangled green; His vision penetrated deep, Beneath the common surface screen;

The roots of things were plain to him, He saw the crowded under-earth, Where every life fought ceaselessly, To bring a future life to birth;

For him the stirring of the leaves Beneath a listless pa.s.sing breeze, Spoke with a manifolded tongue From all the thickly growing trees;

For him the beetles and the mice Made magic of desires and fears, The b.u.mble bee's slow rhythmic hum Seemed like the pa.s.sing of the years.

And where a curving bramble-branch Lay half in shade and half in light, The universe's giant curves Were all discovered to his sight;

All things were all things' complement, For what the oak left unexpressed In line and hue, the silver birch Continued, in completion's quest.

There was no moss, nor stone, nor leaf, Nor lingering small drop of dew, But he resolved to harmony, And in the mystic mind-web drew.

So sat he, abstract as a G.o.d, The greatest wisdom of the world, While on his head the sunshine played, And round his robe the shadows curled.

Till, through the forest's green and gold, And through the magic afternoon, --Strange, as moonlit waters are, Sweet, as cowslip-fields in June:--

Oh, summer-footed Vivien came!

And through the web of dreaming broke; And on her silver clarion note Of laughter, the great Sage awoke.

She sat her down beneath the tree, --Oh! fair her youth his age beside!-- She plucked the boughs to make her shade.

She pulled the flowers far and wide,

To deck her hair; and while the glades Re-echoed to her laughter gay, She leaned to Merlin, kissing him, And stroked his beard, unkempt and grey.

And he forgot the voice of trees, And of the silent undergrowth, To hear her merry lilting song, And watch, reposed in summer sloth,

Vivien dance upon the sward, As children dance, alone, at ease; Till breathlessly she cast her down And laid her head upon his knees.

And with his hand among her hair The magic of his mind was rent, And captive to her shadowed eyes, Behold! the Master-Thinker went.

A VILLA ON THE BAY OF NAPLES

The crescent's single line of white Above the pointed cypress tree, Was all there was of any light Upon the earth and on the sea; (Black was the bay of Naples.)

"And ah," she said, "why have you come Unbidden on my balcony, This midnight hour, close and dumb; What is it you would have of me, Here by the bay of Naples?"

"Now having knit, untie the knot,"

Said he; "you drew me from afar, Or having willed or willed it not, Your face shone on me like a star Above the bay of Naples.

"Oh, know you not, fair star of love, The thought of you is like new wine, Or strong sweet air on heights above, For mortal senses too divine----"

(Black was the bay of Naples.)

Her lamp beside the window set The woman, and the light shone out A yellow glimmer in the jet Of darkness, that lay all about The outstretched bay of Naples.

But "Nay" she said, and laughed with scorn.

And also with a little pride; "My lover comes before the morn, And, if he find you, woe betide Beside the bay of Naples.

"Now get you gone in very deed, While time is yet for you to go, Behold, I beg you at my need; How black the chilly waters flow Around the bay of Naples!"

"Ah, do you think I am afraid,"

Said he, "of man that sees the light?

If G.o.d himself command had laid To leave you, I should stay to-night."

(Black was the bay of Naples).

The trouble grew within her eyes, She seemed to feel, as in a dream, The ruling force in love that lies; She veiled the lamplight's yellow gleam From the black bay of Naples.

"Ah me," she said, "you tarry yet, And late and chilly grows the night, To-morrow shall my lamp be set To guide you hither with its light,"

Across the bay of Naples.

"To-morrow then, to-morrow's years.

I will be yours, but go to-night."

And dimly through the mist of tears She saw the crescent's line of white, High o'er the bay of Naples.

"To-morrow for to-morrow be!

To-night is all I ask and need, I cannot loose love's core," said he, "Once to my hand it has been freed"

(Black was the bay of Naples).