Louise de la Valliaere and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Here shall we stay. The terrace walk is cool;
Yonder thy palace towers rise silver-clear;
From the dim city, grey and beautiful,
Snatches of song we hear.

'Tis a dream city, stretching fair and wide;
Surely mine eyes have seen it in a dream—
So, with frail spires transfigured, glorified,
In a last late rose gleam.

So, were the hill's brows touched with solemn gold,
So, kingly purpled lay their flanks at rest;
The blue small lakes in those grey arms are cold
Like flowers on a dead breast.

So, in a trailing glory passed the sun
To lands of spice and odours whence he came;
The far faint hyacinth pastures gloom to dun
Where late his feet were flame.

And the night comes with misty glimmering feet
Wet from wan waterways in some cool world,
Shadowed and still; and where her heart doth beat
A crescent moon lies curled.

Lovely large stars are in her dewy hands,
Lilies are these she scatters as she goes,
The pale high flowers—her purple meadow lands
Are blooming with their snows.

Sweet blows the wind— Ah, love! the night is sweet
Because thy fair dusk face looks down on me;
Lover and lord and king! low at thy feet
Were a meet place to be.

Not on thy breast. O wonderful grave eyes!
That drew me all my days to this one day,
Lighting my feet to thy love's mysteries
Through moonless nights and grey.

I kiss these hands that brought to one forlorn
Thy strong love's frankincense and gold and myrrh,
Making her rich, and filled with oil and corn
The empty heart of her.

Love! I had thirst, and thou hast given to me
Thy life's red wine-cup for my full delight,
I am grown strong, and fair exceedingly
In my beloved's sight.

Surely thy kingliness my brow hath crowned;
Thy love's rare mantle, with its golden sheen
And purple wrought with lilies, wraps me round,
Robing me like a queen.

This day when thy hands crowned me I was proud,
And paled no whit, nor shook, nor fell to tears,
Seeing but thee through rushing waters loud
That surged about mine ears.

Thy courtiers smiled to see the beggar girl,
An hour's queen, bear herself so queenly wise,
I did not see them glint in rose and pearl—
I only saw thine eyes.

Ah, my fair king! these light lords could not know
How thy love's power hath made me fair and great,
How that thine arms have raised me high enow
Even for thine own estate.

Love! is it years or days since first thy call
Found me, with folded flowers and sleeping birds,
Dreaming in a grey dawn-world, mystical,
And waked me with sweet words?

I was a small pale thing through all my years,
Loving full well the fair enchanted woods,
The innocent flowers, and little pearl-pure meres
In the dreamy solitudes.

I was the child of the forest and the sky,
My kith and kin the wood's small creatures were,
The bright-eyed birds and the squirrels wild and shy,
Loving me had no fear.

And when I slept, all night the trees bent low,
Crooning a wind-song and the sea-sweet rain
Touched my thin cheek with fingers, soft and slow,
That went and came again.

Then the day's smile; and from a nest anear,
A sleek brown head would peep to see it break,
And a gold throat would sudden carol clear,
And the fairy world would wake.

Once, with the dawn's feet, came a mighty tread;
The brown things shivered, and against the grey,
Lo! two great eyes within a lion's head,
That looked and turned away.

Like a sea-world at noon the sweet shades grew
Green, through the pale leaves streamed the strong gold light,
And far o'erhead, in the misty blinding blue,
A wondrous sun burned white.

Once by a stream I made my brown feet wet,
And gemmed my hair with drops, and laughed to see
How from the clear heart of the rivulet
Mine own eyes gazed at me.

Then gloomed a woman in the woodland path.
I trembled, she was fierce and old and grand.
She spake, “For thee, a crown the future hath
In a far distant land.”

And passed, and to my dreams that night there came
One with proud passionate face and dusky hair,
Who kissed my mouth, and wept, and called my name;
His eyes were grave and fair.

“Ah, love!” he said, “thy lover waits for thee;
Far to the South, he yearns to see thy face.
Arise, the high gods guide thee graciously
Unto his dwelling-place.”

Then I awoke, and in the grey wood heard
The dews drop from the branches, and the leaves
Shiver before the dawn; a small wind stirred
Amid the grassy sheaves.

Just for an instant stood I in the spot,
Seeing through some slow tears the brightening ways,
Tears for the blind old days that knew thee not,
The happy blind old days.

And so to southward turned from the kindly wood
To the wide plain, grown gold with swaying corn;
I marvel if the brown birds understood
That I was lost that morn.

A sad-eyed woman, in a happy vale,
Kissed me, and wept, and fain would have me stay,
Because her little daughter, pure and pale,
Had died but yesterday;

And since I would not, washed my feet with care,
And kissed the bleeding wounds the thorns had made,
And gave me food, and on my shoulders bare
A warm grey mantle laid.

And as I went, thine eyes starred all the way,
Their sudden splendours made my heart rejoice,
And in mine ears rang clear the livelong day
The gold notes of thy voice.

So did I hear the birds sing in the bowers,
Where no birds were or bowers, in the desert blind,
And walked knee-deep in blooming meadow-flowers,
Blown by a cool wet wind;

And went right joyously, with festal tread,
And moist, glad eyes, till, lo! this morn I came
To where thy palace windows gleamed to red,
Fronting the eastward flame;

And waited with the beggars at the gate,
Hiding my face with my long hair unbound,
That coiling crept, and trailed its yellow weight
Over me to the ground.

Then in that hour some bird's voice in me stirred,
And of a sudden I began to sing
Some happy fair old lay, that once I heard
At dawn when forests ring.

On all the listening crowd there fell a hush,
It swayed and surged a little, and grew still,
And from the pleasaunce near a love-lorn thrush
Answered me trill for trill.

Then mine eyes saw a glint of arms and spears,
A stately pageantry came riding by,
Glittering in gold and gems, and to mine ears
Was borne a sudden cry:

“The King! the King!” I trembled and grew white.
The crowd fell back, and, lo! one came apace
Clad all in gold, a marvellous fair knight,
And lifted up my face

From out my hair, with whispered words of fire,
And kissed the mouth and eyes and brows of me.
I looked. It was the face of my Desire
Mine eyes were raised to see!

Fair as a god's, and passionate as the South,
Thy face, beloved! that looks upon me now
With grave sweet eyes, and tender smileless mouth,
A king's crown on the brow.

Ah! the fair face grown pale for loss of me!
Long were the years, while we two walked apart,
Waiting this dawn; but now my place shall be
On this most loyal heart.

My brown hands stroke thy hair's dusk silken grace.
Love! so within thine arms 'twere well to die;
I would be warm within Death's stark embrace
With this hour's memory.

Now the night wraps us round; the last lights wane.
Hush, love! dost hear the passionate nightingale
Pour to the stars the burden of his pain?
Hearing it I grow pale.

Kiss me once more, my king, and find me sweet.
We are alone beneath the mystic sky,
Hand clasped in hand, and heart-beat to heart-beat,
Together, thou and I.