 | The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite |  |
OF TRUE AND FALSE MARRIAGES
Earth has its nuptials, and the flesh shall know
What flesh can learn of unions here below;
But the soul, coming from some far-off place,
Beholds not now the Royal Bridegroom's face,
And therefore goeth sadly here along.
Give up, O void of voids, the marriage-song!
Above earth's jarring measures and their noise,
Call us in peace unto the nuptial joys.
What flesh can learn of unions here below;
But the soul, coming from some far-off place,
Beholds not now the Royal Bridegroom's face,
And therefore goeth sadly here along.
Give up, O void of voids, the marriage-song!
Above earth's jarring measures and their noise,
Call us in peace unto the nuptial joys.
“Whom God hath join'd”—aye, that leaves room for wonder,
Granting—who doubts?—that none can put asunder:
But seeing that two lovers in one bed
—So Love itself will teach—
Seem parted each from each,
As star from star is parted overhead,
This question still recurs:
Whom hath God join'd?
Granting—who doubts?—that none can put asunder:
But seeing that two lovers in one bed
—So Love itself will teach—
Seem parted each from each,
As star from star is parted overhead,
This question still recurs:
Whom hath God join'd?
15
Think you, his flesh to hers
Whom stratagem from other arms purloin'd,
And she not surely first, nor he the last—
While simple passion is so quickly past
Or courts remain to utter their decrees?
But think you any marriage of the flesh?
True, they shall part not when their earth is dead
Who, few and rarely, in their souls are wed.
Past doubt, eternity, assuming these,
Transfigures the old bonds or welds afresh;
But their true souls how few on earth have found,
Much less with others have their own been bound,
And skin-deep wedlock—with the joys it brings—
Scarce counts among indissoluble things.
Whom stratagem from other arms purloin'd,
And she not surely first, nor he the last—
While simple passion is so quickly past
Or courts remain to utter their decrees?
But think you any marriage of the flesh?
True, they shall part not when their earth is dead
Who, few and rarely, in their souls are wed.
Past doubt, eternity, assuming these,
Transfigures the old bonds or welds afresh;
But their true souls how few on earth have found,
Much less with others have their own been bound,
And skin-deep wedlock—with the joys it brings—
Scarce counts among indissoluble things.
Alas, the souls which once God join'd, through some
Deep-seated mischief, to divorce have come;
And it is only when desires within
From height exceeding height some lustre win;
From space-immensities of winter's clime—
Cold, inaccessible and clear—
Or great distractions fallen on the sea,
Bring subtly-quickening intimations near,
That pasts withdrawn in worlds of memory—
Beyond all deeps of time—
Send faint reports—though bands of sense enfold—
Of great free unions which obtain'd of old.
Deep-seated mischief, to divorce have come;
And it is only when desires within
From height exceeding height some lustre win;
From space-immensities of winter's clime—
Cold, inaccessible and clear—
Or great distractions fallen on the sea,
Bring subtly-quickening intimations near,
That pasts withdrawn in worlds of memory—
Beyond all deeps of time—
Send faint reports—though bands of sense enfold—
Of great free unions which obtain'd of old.
Naked we are, divorced from our true ends,
And conscious only of what pain attends
The isolation on our course imposed,
The bar on prospects from all points disclosed;
Yea, on the nuptial night man lies alone
And lonely sleeps the wife he calls his own:
Veil'd limbs and shrouded lips—
Of such are our most close companionships,
Sad travesty of joys that once we knew.
Pass as we can this mournful exile through,
But ask not constancy and faith too much;
Of loving kindness seek the healing touch,
And let us deal with those who share our lot
As if all mercy were, all judgment not;
Keep, if we may, through this life's stormy weather,
But say not rashly God hath join'd together.
What did God join? Man to the star he seeks,
Sea to the soul to which the sea-deep speaks?
But here are also types: O symbols fair,
Reflecting faintly light from otherwhere!
Off with these bonds! Over the great abyss
The far-off hope proclaims what union is,
And all that cannot rest in man's vast deep
Till it returns to God and there finds sleep
Has since creation in our inmost cried:
What God hath join'd who was it dared divide?
And conscious only of what pain attends
The isolation on our course imposed,
The bar on prospects from all points disclosed;
Yea, on the nuptial night man lies alone
And lonely sleeps the wife he calls his own:
Veil'd limbs and shrouded lips—
Of such are our most close companionships,
16
Pass as we can this mournful exile through,
But ask not constancy and faith too much;
Of loving kindness seek the healing touch,
And let us deal with those who share our lot
As if all mercy were, all judgment not;
Keep, if we may, through this life's stormy weather,
But say not rashly God hath join'd together.
What did God join? Man to the star he seeks,
Sea to the soul to which the sea-deep speaks?
But here are also types: O symbols fair,
Reflecting faintly light from otherwhere!
Off with these bonds! Over the great abyss
The far-off hope proclaims what union is,
And all that cannot rest in man's vast deep
Till it returns to God and there finds sleep
Has since creation in our inmost cried:
What God hath join'd who was it dared divide?
| The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | |