 | Poems and Dramas by "Fiona MacLeod" (William Sharp) |  |
231
THE DIRGE OF THE FOUR CITIES
[_]
“The four cities of the world that was: the sunken city of Murias, and the city of Gorias, and the city of Finias; and the city of Falias.” (Ancient Gaelic Chronicle.)
Finias and Falias,
Where are they gone?
Does the wave hide Murias—
Does Gorias know the dawn?
Does not the wind wail
In the city of gems?
Do not the prows sail
Over fallen diadems
And the spires of dim gold
And the pale palaces
Of Murias, whose tale was told
Ere the world was old?
Where are they gone?
Does the wave hide Murias—
Does Gorias know the dawn?
Does not the wind wail
In the city of gems?
Do not the prows sail
Over fallen diadems
And the spires of dim gold
And the pale palaces
Of Murias, whose tale was told
Ere the world was old?
Do women cry Alas!...
Beyond Finias?
Does the eagle pass
Seeing but her shadow on the grass
Where once was Falias:
And do her towers rise
Silent and lifeless to the frozen skies?
And do whispers and sighs
Fill the twilights of Finias
With love that has not grown cold
Since the days of old?
Beyond Finias?
Does the eagle pass
Seeing but her shadow on the grass
Where once was Falias:
And do her towers rise
Silent and lifeless to the frozen skies?
232
Fill the twilights of Finias
With love that has not grown cold
Since the days of old?
Hark to the tolling of bells
And the crying of wind!
The old spells
Time out of mind,
They are crying before me and behind!
I know now no more of my pain,
But am as the wandering rain
Or as the wind's shadow on the grass
Beyond Finias of the Dark Rose:
Or, 'mid the pinnacles and still snows
Of the Silence of Falias,
I go: or am as the wave that idly flows
Where the pale weed in songless thickets grows
Over the towers and fallen palaces
Where the Sea-city was,
The city of Murias.
And the crying of wind!
The old spells
Time out of mind,
They are crying before me and behind!
I know now no more of my pain,
But am as the wandering rain
Or as the wind's shadow on the grass
Beyond Finias of the Dark Rose:
Or, 'mid the pinnacles and still snows
Of the Silence of Falias,
I go: or am as the wave that idly flows
Where the pale weed in songless thickets grows
Over the towers and fallen palaces
Where the Sea-city was,
The city of Murias.
| Poems and Dramas by "Fiona MacLeod" (William Sharp) | |