The Poetical Works of John Payne Definitive Edition in Two Volumes |
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EVOCATION. |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
EVOCATION.
METHINKS in some far sunset-coloured place
Of dreams and flowers, the stress of my desire
Must have grown up to flowerage of fire
And snow in a fair maiden's dream-filled face
And pearly limbs, washed round with all the grace
Of Spring-tide thought; a lady like a lyre
For the harmonious waftings that aspire
From all things amorous of her being's trace.
I picture her to me,—my love of dreams,—
Pacing the gold shore of that magic land,
Pensive and fair with many a half-filled thought;
And to each pulse of my strained soul, meseems,
Her essence answers, as to wafts wind-brought
Of charms cast out from some far wizard's hand.
Of dreams and flowers, the stress of my desire
Must have grown up to flowerage of fire
And snow in a fair maiden's dream-filled face
And pearly limbs, washed round with all the grace
Of Spring-tide thought; a lady like a lyre
For the harmonious waftings that aspire
From all things amorous of her being's trace.
I picture her to me,—my love of dreams,—
Pacing the gold shore of that magic land,
Pensive and fair with many a half-filled thought;
And to each pulse of my strained soul, meseems,
Her essence answers, as to wafts wind-brought
Of charms cast out from some far wizard's hand.
152
How many times, sweetheart, how many times
I have made running rivers of my sighs,
Poured out my yearning into melodies
Of love, that on the torrent of my rhymes
My thought might voyage to those golden climes
Of mystery, jewelled o'er with sapphire skies,
Where thy feet walk and make life Paradise!
And unto thee, mayhap, as 'twere the chimes
Of some far dream-bell fluttering the air,
The echo of my great desire has won,
Like to a sigh of spirits far away;
And thou, with some still sadness filled and fair,
Hast for a dream-space stood and watched the sun
And the clear colours fading from the day.
I have made running rivers of my sighs,
Poured out my yearning into melodies
Of love, that on the torrent of my rhymes
My thought might voyage to those golden climes
Of mystery, jewelled o'er with sapphire skies,
Where thy feet walk and make life Paradise!
And unto thee, mayhap, as 'twere the chimes
Of some far dream-bell fluttering the air,
The echo of my great desire has won,
Like to a sigh of spirits far away;
And thou, with some still sadness filled and fair,
Hast for a dream-space stood and watched the sun
And the clear colours fading from the day.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |