University of Virginia Library


55

DUSKY CASTALIE.

Far incense of the golden dawn
Now smokes and steams with powdery light,
Like dust upon the lily strawn,
Like meteors in the hair of night;
Green burns the erewhile dusky lawn,
The river wings a silvery flight.
I come down to thine ivy bower
To drink in morning's floweriest fumes,
To bathe me in her sunniest shower,
To dream among her leafiest blooms;
Above my head the white peaks tower,
About my feet the wild bee booms.
Ah whitest, duskiest Castalie,
My lily with the golden head,

56

Straight, tall, and cold: the kiss to be
Turns not thine ashen cheek to red.
I see the moon-rise seeing thee
Walk o'er the grass with stateliest tread.
Clothed in pure white: the plain smooth band
That locks thy waist with jealous gold:
The gesture of the long thin hand,
The tall neck's pillar proud and cold:
The fine-spun amber backward fanned,
That clouds the head's most faultless mould.
Ah pallid Castalie, come forth:
The music freezes in my soul,
An ice-cloud of the silent North:
Breathe on it, thaw it, let it roll
In winds and snows about the earth,
In stormful gusts by sand and shoal.
Still incarnation of the night,
The star-kissed peaks, the moonlit lea,
The sun-smit desert burning white,
The quiet shore, the quiet sea,
The soul's despair, the soul's delight,
Come, whitest, duskiest Castalie.