Part 2

Then from my lips broke there a bitter curse. Glib the words struck with subtle irony Traverse athwart my hope. Vivid and strong My thought had stood dilate, passionately Grappling amid the eternal verities, Touched to it by the conflict; and seemed now Clutching the air. A whelming sense of wrong Flushed all my mood. As one who sees All things, and nothing clearly, fearless of brow I shook my answer free. “My nobler Self! Mine ultimate Good! Trickster with subtle speech! What nobler self have I, what high, what low, Contradistinguished, save what thou wouldst teach Arbitrary of choice? What ultimate good, But as my heart dictates, throbbing to know The exquisite peak of pleasure, if the deep Swallow me utterly up? But what I would That should I, if thou art the ultimate All, And I no more than this! Thou Thing unkempt, Pallid of tongue and hue, so wouldst thou tempt My feet from blushful sweets aside? So charm My hazardous soul to climb Yon dizzy pinnacle, that hath no prime Nor cause of being, with this riotous balm,-- To sweat, to stint, to travail, and to fall Sheer out of time in night. Begone, thou Gloom! Away, thou Shape of ill! Come when the tomb, ’Twixt this and that omnipotent time Each tottering moment shall be packed with twice Its fraught of pleasures; or come surfeit, to illume The shadow of joy, shall every rare device Rivet the transient hour. Tread yon dread way? Nay, that I will not! Unto thee I turn, Vision ecstatic, tangible withal, From thee to learn All the soft wonders of thy disarray.”

So, fearless, turned I: yet ere thought to deed Quickened my members, swift upon the air Luxuriously this song sped, deft and rare, Beckoning me to speed.

“Come, my love, to love me; come! Life is but the tangled sum Of thy being’s bitter hum. Tarry not, the days flit by; Soon thy bloom shall wither: I Proffer fruits that never fly. Never; for thy brief decree Folds in all eternity: Nought survives thee; so to me Come, to taste the liberal treasure I bestrew whose name is Pleasure; Share mine overflowing measure. Ah! come to me; then will I show All that thine utmost heart would know: Laughter loud, and whispers low, Ruddy joy, soft lips and kisses, Opening out Life’s raptest blisses. This thy Heaven; yea, whoso misses This, shall slip the rarest worth Possible to his strenuous girth, In the delicious garden of Earth. So come to me, dear love, my sweet, Time and the Hours are all too fleet; Quaff my goblet, rarely meet For superb humanity. Confines spurn; be large, be free; ’Tis thy true Felicity! What is Duty’s blatant call? I am Duty, I am All; I am Beauty: none may fall On aught supremer arm than mine; I am God, I am divine; Life’s uttermost largess is my shrine. Wouldst thou live to wander wan? Dearest, never! freedom con, And share my fearless halcyon. Life is all thy tangled sum, Then hold not so, fearful and numb, But come to me, dear husband, come, Come!”

Wildered I hearkened; held my tremulous limbs Awhile, and heard, impassioned. From her eyes Soft messages flashed o’er their lidded brims Coyly upon me. Throwing forth her arms She yearned on me, her hair’s luxuriant guise Falling carelessly and free, while she her charms Spun, threading in her woof of thought. The air, Murmuring her music yet, hung over me As heaving breast to breast we stood, surmise Holding me feeble and faint, ecstatically. Then did I burst away Restraint; tossing off wrinkled Care I strode toward the dear Angel of my Dream. Nigh had I touched her palm; when, swift and clear, Loud with the trumpet’s tongue, imperative, Dulcent to hear, A Voice of awful import thundered-- “Stay!” Sudden I reared. As doth revulsion give Thought interwound with thought, so did it seem I hung halting. Furtively, distractedly, I cast my gaze about, so to divine Whence the high edict sprang. The Ogre blear Was gone: fled with its eye malign As it had never been. Far up the course Precipitous and steep I seemed to see, Anew upon my eyes, a burning dome Scintillating, radiating from its source A hesitant gleam adown the path. Entranced I hung upon the sight. Then fear fell on me; for from thence did come, Stately, magnificent, tenfold more bright Than the sun’s vivid noontide, crystal-clear, A Shape surpassing loveliness. On my thought Paled all things else save that transcendent Fear. Steadily it advanced: From small to great, from great unreckonable, Stately, deliberative, supreme, of port Serene and lofty, steadily so it came Sweeping the callow path. Struck with its spell I burned with aching eyes. Subtly a Flame Encircled it, of silver and of gold, Sardine and jasper iridescent, blue, Purple and exquisite scarlet, all inwrought To one pure hue too vivid to behold. So as it nearer swept I threw My face upon the dust, and thrust my eyes Upon my veiling palms, dizzy to death, Sick with amaze; when a most mellow breath Softly outspake, “Frail child of Man, arise! For I would speak with thee!” No choice had I Save to obey that voice imperative; However it seemed to me to look and live Crost opposite elements. Dazedly I cast Upward a timorous glance, encountered by So mellow a gaze; wherein which very beam I touched sustaining succour. Towering vast He stood dilate with wonder; and did seem To crowd the heavens with majesty, tho’ within My wandering vision. Neath his snowy hair, Lit with intrinsic brilliance, shone his eyes, Where loomed long mysteries of eternity. His misty brow domed firmamental-wise, Swelling beneath its locks. ’Twas wondrous fair: Fair unto tottering thought! His very robes, Like the unblemished snow, thrice-purged, wherein Flowed his proportions spacious, moved and shone Instinct with sinuous life. Hesitantly I stammered-- “Stranger fair, thy Name! Forgive My curious temper! Yield me strength to live!” He bent on me twin eyes: and spake. Then did the whirling stars and heavenly globes, The ravenous winds, awake, And hang in poise ecstatic. Sweet upon My aching ears, incontinent of such bliss Celestial, there awoke a halcyon Of various, high, mellifluous harmony: In measures like to this: “Wouldst thou my Name, Mortal immortal; wouldst acquaint thy thought With my Renown? How shall I tell it thee? Speech may not utter it, for words are wrought Empirical, in the stout smithy of life. Couldst thou envisage its supremacy Then were toil done; and the pure spirit’s strife, Tempering the thew withal, wrought purposeless And cheap. Considerest thou not Man’s Aim, The Ages down, to utter Loveliness, Or to plumb Truth, to measure Equity, Or Justice poise; affixing phrases so Unto what trailing robes he sees. These all Am I, one and complete. When he shall know Freedom, deck on a larger life, each thrall Corporeal shudder off, standing superb, Munificent, then shall he see me face To spiritous face: till then must I disturb His manifold sense, to win him worthy of me. Before his soul awoke was I: nay, more, I touched his thought to life. From forth of nought I bad him issue, setting my seal thereon:-- So doth the veriest hind of all his race Grope tentative after me. Then when he bore Manhood erect, unparagoned, upon Earth’s lucent air I woke the soul of song Choired by the sons of morning. All the court Of glittering Heaven, in the dread womb of Night; The stately march celestial; throng on throng Wheeling from gloom to gloom, in perilous flight Over the unsearched deeps; the air; the seas; The bountiful Earth;--my handiwork were these In the wide crucibles of steady Time. Withal, tho’ such I seem to be, Yet am I not at all: the voiceless clod Owns substance more than I. Spaceless, sublime, I am the Breath Divine; the Voice of God; His concentrate Radiation: thence wend I, Thither to trend again, dependently; Aerial, effulgent, winging the formless deeps. Ecstatic Wisdom called they me awhile Who touched my billowy robes. Yet, tho’ I ply Authoritative edict, bidding thee Heed, as my fount is high, my voice o’erleaps Articular creed, swift to thy resonant soul Brooding deliberative. Well knowest thou That evanescent languors do beguile The soul’s high bent. Wherefore,--save that thine eye Hath glimpsed a billowy Vision, subtly spun, Floating upon thy thought, of high control Fashioning a peerless state, noble and pure, Whose stately essence not the clammy brow Of Death shall dissipate? Thou dreamest this: And this I utter now. That thou wouldst not Forego the Tempter’s vivid lure, Most truly tell I, Pleasure is not one But twain, nor think licentious libertine bliss Befits the splendour of thy soul, begot Divine, bred for eternal pride. Above Each fell delight, debased upon the soil, Soars a pure counterpart, winging the air: Thou canst but lust upon the one; but Love Impassioned doth the other wake. ’Tis toil; I cloak it not; yet ’tis a joy that bides, Swelling the more the hoarier, till Day dawn And shadows flit away. Decide thee then! Cast thy free choice! These portals lead thee where, Soul-plumed, new realms upon thy flight are borne. Brace up thy thew! Tread out this path, that guides Whither pure bliss shall rock thy dizzy ken, And end thy weary coil!”

Wondering the Angel bound me; scarce a glance Turned I away upon yon Harlot nude, Chasteless and brazen, touching my coarser sense Distastefully; not wholly impotent. In visionary mood Hung I, swoll’n on the flow of eloquence To thought on thought. Nor less did ravishment, Exhaling music on its wing, uplift my soul, Gazing upon that beauteous Eminence. Enthralled so was I held. Then as my trance Bated awhile, I searched my tongue’s control.

“Ecstatic Flame!” I broke, “yet would I know Further one thing. Truly I bow before thee! I yield my due of homage; I adore thee, Eternal Radiance from on high! Thou bright Image immortal! Yet, do I tempt the throe Of yon steep way, what strength shall flush my thew Sinking amid its steeps? Yea, as I woo Its delicate largess, if my feeble might Fail of its scintillant goal, what then? What deed, What earnest, decks my quest, so to exchange For problematical bliss the vivid range Of present sweets. Fool I to chance the meed Of dusk futurity for the portion sprung Flashing upon my sight! Forgive this tongue Imperious, recalcitrant; yet sure, I utter freely, speaking as I read Diverse each several lure.”

Tranquil, immovable, in a mien that won Me wholly out, respondent it begun:-- “The choice thine own; cast as thou wilt: ’tis mine But to declare the Truth. Who shall assign Aright his lot, him shall I flush with strength, Leaping from might to might. Each vision true Opens to wider bliss: each vanquished thrall Touches to larger freedom; lea on lea Bounding to vision to Life’s uttermost length. I woo not, but am woo’d; and yet withal Woo I; imperative my lineaments woo For sheer vitality. Thus shall I thee. Think’st thou the end shall fail? Who perseveres Assuredly shall clasp the ultimate goal; If ultimate goal there be, for bliss shall roll Boundless before thy view. I say not fears Shall cease, that strife shall vanish, or that all Conjured rhapsodical, dispassionately Shall swim in peace. Nay, all thy passionate days Shall reach from peak to peak, trial amid, Gainsayers athwart, waking Life’s deepest zest. Yet shall the goal gleam rare before thy gaze; And if upon thy quest, Sinking dispirited, the goal be hid Wrapt in a gloomy mist, ’twill pass awhile, And thou be all thy strenuous self again. Ally Thyself to me, nor seek thee to beguile Idly the transient hours, and all that I Have shown before thy sight fulfilled shall be. I say ’t; and am its earnest eternally.”

And then methought I stood on quaking limb, Forth to proceed upon that wizard way. Heaven-high the portals towered above me; dim Stretched the precipitous path, tortuous and grey, Leaping from crag to crag. Then all the gloom Seized fast about me, as with hesitant stride I took its edge initiative. Yet on Went I, holding a dauntless pride Steady within me; on and on, upon The slippery crags, amid the dunes and meres, Poised oft o’er bottomless pits, turning beside Pitiless tarns, brackish with mortal tears. As forth I strode, fairer and yet more fair Shone the horizon; rarer did illume Its scintillant goal my passage lofty and strait. And my high Mentor, steady before my eye, Shone so exceeding beauteous, more and more, Increasing so in clarity, scope, and air, That a wild ecstasy possessed my thought, Riotous and fervid in me. Steadily So followed I, with resolute thew where’er It led me forth, casting no glance away: Thus on, yet on; waning and waxing on. Yet, as I sped, methought a dizzy shore Beguiled my feet aside, so to descry What depths the abysm held. Pallid and wan Shrank my Instructor on my curious eye. Treading its perilous edge I did essay To plumb the gulf, with darkness doubly fraught; When, gazing with profound intent, a wind Broke with an awful triumph up its steep Embankments jagged forth on me. All terror-strick’n upstarted I, to find ’Twas but the embers crumbling in the grate, Loud on the icy Night. Awakened so Musing I stood to recollect, and lo! My lips had formed to prayer.-- Then thro’ the gloom I gat me to my sleep.

TO A THRUSH

Singing one Spring morn ’mid deepest fog

Throstle-bird! I have heard This thy voice of cheer, As I lay In the sway Of a waking fear; And its message dropt me peace, From its rapt career.

Yet, say how Thou may’st now Every note prolong! Doth the fog Never clog Never still thy song? Doth thy music ever rise Mellow, sweet, and strong?

Ho! when Morn Doth adorn Shuddering Mother Earth, Jocund Day Swelling gay, Kingly in his girth, I may something understand This so mellow mirth.

But when morn Rises worn, As on gloomy wing; When in murk Light doth lurk Like some callow thing, Tell me, throstle, how thou then Cheerily canst sing?

Oftentime Peace sublime, ’Mid the fairest day, Flickers wan And is gone Phantom on its way, Then a sudden gloom enshrouds Hearts within its sway.

Then the smile Fades awhile, Then the laugh is still, Then the tune Falters, hewn By the touch of Ill, Then Life’s music flutters low Sorrow to fulfil.

Ill-content To be pent Out of aught, griefs come All unbid Right amid Spirits frolicsome: Ah! then lips attuned to praise Press each other dumb!

Yet, sweet bird, Nought has blurred These most wondrous throes: Melody Rapt and free Out the midst of woes; May I turn to thee to learn What thy spirit knows!

That when gloom Like a doom Blots the azure sky, I may learn Blight to spurn, And the Day descry, Howsoe’er the Word of Ill Spells the Earth awry.

Smirk and smutch May I touch To a loftier scheme, Irk and Doubt Ravelling out In a song supreme; As, rare bird, thy spirits turn Sturdily thy theme.

MULTUM IN PARVO

Baby-child, Mystery of mysteries, Com’st thou from the starry skies Pleased to don Life’s motley guise Dark and wild?

Frail and slight, Hardly uttered of the Womb, Lov’st thou Sorrow, Want and Gloom So to exchange for song and bloom Sin and blight?

Swaddled thus, What a Wonder may’st thou be Touched by mystic Destiny, Oh, trite Possibility Marvellous!

Drowsy so, Doth a mighty Spirit brace Earthy thews anew; to trace Deeds that mock at Time and Place, Bond and throe?

Baby-fists, Shall they clutch the flashing blade, Touch the use of politic aid, Tilt with sinew undismayed In Life’s lists?

Chubby things, Shall they stretch a loving hand Unto such on Life’s rough strand As may never understand Sheltering wings?

Baby-feet, Scarce distinguishable forms, Must they foot amid Life’s storms Lonely; none to soothe its qualms, None to weet?

Wearied, sore, Hardly shall they seek to run Up the passes where begun All is strife till strife is done Evermore?

Baby-face, Shall it wear the print of Time, Woven o’er with hoary rime: Or shall Death in sunnier clime Pallor trace?

As years wend, Shall its lineaments tell the sage Scarred with honourable age, Ere Life turn its latest page For the End?

Liquid eyes, Whence outpeers the wizard soul, Shall its lustre spell control Calm, impregnable and whole, Firm and wise?

Flame and flash Only when a careless foot Tramples thro’ Life’s cruel bruit Heedless, heartless, then to shoot Hates that slash!

Be it so! Shall they wizard wonders see In the wrapt Futurity, Whither, swathing shackles free, Time must go?

Aerial ships, Searching out the vasty blue, Darting whither to endue Peace with beauty, Warfare’s new Scathing whips?

Brotherhood: Twining men of every race, Knowing neither high nor base, Spurning pomp and pride of place, One of brood?

Howe’er ’tis, Baby, shun no Duty’s call, Fear thy God, love peoples all, Then whatever shall befall, Thine is bliss!

* * * * *

Lovely child, Smiling with such heedless eyes, Com’st thou from the starry skies So to search Life’s enterprise Dark and wild?

Friends vanish at my face; yet, as they fly, Swoll’n with the sombre mood of conjured schism, I hear thee say thou whom the holy chrism Has sealed as mine eternal--“Dear, do I Outweigh the scales; if this one form be nigh, Shall that suffice thee in this dark abysm?” Ah, think, Belov’d! did some great cataclysm Fierce-swoop upon to enshroud the midnight sky, Did gulf the multitudinous stars but one, Some Betelgeuse, in beauty-flame of love Gleaming and twinkling in the lowly mart Of tremulous darkness, how ’twould swell upon The vaults of Heaven; how rare so poised above! Even so in lone magnificence thou art!

A Fancy fair comes floating on my thought When on the wildering trammels I am caught Of pensive studies; as the surrounding scheme Fades and dissolves, and coming Hours gleam Visionary the musing realms athwart: That thou and I, all our keen battles fought, Serene and hoar, past touch of withering aught, Shall yet enkindle love, and kiss, and dream A Fancy _fair_.

My Dearest, be this so! Let us be wrought So to a unity as the Hours, full-fraught With Blight and Bloom, slip by; let us esteem The other in our loves so high-supreme, That thus, Dear Heart, this Vision may be not A _Fancy_ fair.

As is the silver night Upon the sombre sea, In ecstasy of might Art thou to me.

As are the stars beyond Aught compass or control, As glittering diamond, So thy pure soul.

As doth the throstle tell His mystery complete, Such is thy subtle spell, Yet oh! how sweet!

So cam’st thou unto me Love’s mystic wand to wield; Then I, who would be free, Did gladly yield.

Belovëd, hast perceived a throstle tune His liberal wealth of song, ’Mid the leafy coverts, all a lucent noon, Where Audience none had he, yet, desolate, He fluted keen and strong Appreciated only by his mate?

Even so sing I, sequestered and alone. No World’s large ear to woo My measures all upon thy feet are thrown. My Mate thou art, my single Audience thou, Thence never do I sue Vainly for plaudit: is not this enow?

Ah, if that throstle glimpsed a Vision clear, A Vision seeming Truth; If unto him, from Life’s encrusting sphere, An iridescent Beauty had out-twirled, In yon sequestered booth How would he chafe his soul to reach the World!

EXILE

I awake from dreams of thee, From the unquiet realms of sleep; I awake from Felicity, I awake to thoughts that keep Their bitterness hid and deep.

I awake from dreams of love Ecstatic, so pure, so sweet; I awake--’tis only to prove That the midday sun shall beat On my lonely lips and feet.

Oh, I have thee, Asthore: deep at this heart Thy presence is a fragrance subtly-rare, As blooms exhale the midnight hour. Whate’er I do, will, dream, aspire, achieve, thou art My Aim, my End. Nay, more, the absolute part Of my Soul’s life! Should hollow-eyed Despair Clutch on me it is only that I fare Forth thro’ the day, and barter at Life’s mart, Yet fail to win thee home. When Truth to woo me Comes, she arrays her in thy form; and those Assimilate twins, Beauty and Duty, to me Are thee and thy soft word. In toil, repose, Asleep, awake, thy spirit whispers thro’ me; Nor boast I hours thou dost not ope and close.

Each hath the Type of bliss within his thought That utters for him all his Life would be: The summit of his soul’s felicity, The consummation wherein should be wrought In deft attainment all his spirit bought Awhile in fervent hope--whose roundest fee ’Twas good to pay. ’Tis so: enough! For me, Be it amiss or be it fitly sought, This would I crave--that mine and thy full soul May touch their mutual deep content, howe’er Life twists its tortuous course; may still control Their Individuality, yet fare So subtly each on each, that as one whole They might stretch to their goal in God’s pure air.

A WORD TO THE CZAR

(_Penned on “Vladimir’s Day” January 22, 1905._)

Thou great Usurper of the Liberty Of hapless Men and Maids, this gory shame Shall wrap thee in a livid Cloak of Flame Ere days have swoll’n to years. We who are free, Who owe no fouling bond of Tyranny, We look at Thee, and execrate thy Name: Nor in our Vision art thou quit of blame That by the hand of him who stood for thee This bloody deed was done. Across the Years, And from the lips of peoples one and all, A mighty curse rolls on, to reach His ears Who silently surveys thy hastening fall:-- Soon may His Might pluck from thy reeking Hand Thy Batôn of a self-usurped command!

VIKING-THROES

Life’s a Battle, full of stress, Full of Change, Struggle, Combat, Weariness, Circling range-- Be limbs and heart sore heavy, yet Foe on foe is set.

Give me fingers for the Fight Keen and strong; Give a Mind that swerves no mite ’Mid the Throng; Beget me Valour, stiffly-grown, Hewn to stand alone.

Grant such Virtue so to be So to dare, That tho’ all may faint or flee --Howsoe’er The Fight may turn--I yet shall stand Firm in Eye and Hand.

Let some Purpose thro’ my tears Gleam and glow, Ah! let not the ruining Years, Full of woe, Engulf then in their dim embrace That high spectral Grace.

Yet, all Boon of boons above, This I crave, Let a tender ample Love My Spirit save Forth from the harsh ungentle chains Fight so oft attains.

“SENTENTIOUS”

Heard I a Preacher loud and high, With speech mellifluous, Who deftly wove before mine eye Doctrines circuitous.

I heard him, ay, I gladly heard, Heard all he had to tell-- Thinking full many a prettier bird Warbled a tithe as well.

Then thought I: Friend, full sweet to hear, Yet say, were I in need, Were all about dim and drear, What then might be your deed?

Full glibly do the lips relate Expressions that the heart Never hath gripped, whose pomp and state Of utterance dwell apart.

And what their Worth? Barren and bald If it be that the Hand Wakes not so ready, whene’er called, To make request command!

To speak, to speech, to vaunt and preach, How passing easy ’tis! But to stretch forth a loving hand To souls in Ill’s abyss,--