 | The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite |  |
225
WATCHES OF THE NIGHT
All day I've tarried in the burning fields,Awaiting Night. The sun has tann'd my skin,
The heat has sapp'd my strength, an eager thirst
Consumes me. Minister in cooling dew,
In gentle rain, in vivifying wind;
Most in the shelter of thy plumage soft,
The hallow'd refuge of thy bridal breast,
Receive and hide me now, Supernal Queen!
Bid all thy plaintive nightingales begin
In vale and thicket! Droop thy mighty wings,
And quench that sudden burst of western light
Which through thy sea-born panoply of clouds
Has torn so strangely. . . . Now the splendour fades:
Where art thou now? Stoop, beautiful and grand:
Unbind thy tresses; let them fall on me:
Diffuse thine odours round! With thy bright eyes—
Thy beautiful, innumerable eyes—
While I adore thee, gaze! So thrill me through
With crooning whispers in the wind and trees.
How wonderful, how mystical thou art,
How deep thy secrets are! Thy tenderness
Surpasses all; thus am I lost in thee!
Thy cool, unconscious kisses on my mouth
Are pattering in aromatic rain;
Lean over, press me, breathe into my mouth;
226
Speak ever to the spirit thou hast form'd
And consecrated with uranian love,
With astral chrism as thy scald elect,
O Night of odours and of sanctity!
| The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | |