 | Maiden Ecstasy |  |
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THE SUN-WORSHIPPER.
I
As a wild comet through the night she hies,Her face bent towards the temple of the sun,
With golden hair that on the darkness lies
Like break of dawn when daylight, scarce begun,
Meanders into flame whose flashes run
Along the lower skies.
II
Soon as the sun lifts up the morning hazeShe rushes towards him; sinks unto the ground
And, clasping the all-shining Presence, prays
In his first beams: again her god is found;
The startled shadows that her heart surround
Are dizzy in his rays.
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III
‘Thee I adore, O Sun! this heart is thine!The youth who blindly claims its ecstasy
Seeks not thy temple, honours not thy shrine;
He kneels not, utters not his vows to thee
Who all the worlds beyond this world can'st see,
And mak'st all things divine.’
IV
The sun-flowers turn to heaven as still she kneels,Shall then her heart its coming vow deplore?
Not uttered yet, all utterance it reveals,
And she restrains her ecstasy no more:
Her burning lips the hasty vow outpour
Which her heart trouble seals.
V
‘Never, O Sun! till sinking in the westThou risest where thy wondrous setting spreads,
While all who love thee slumber in thy rest,
Shall he, who proudly in thy presence treads
Enthrall me in the light his beauty sheds,
Or wed me to his breast!’
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VI
Silence has tongues; she hears a sister say,‘List to the voice of thy companion-mind!
Thy love is still the same as yesterday;
It has not passed, it only lags behind,
And thou art lonely as the wistful wind
Thou meet'st upon the way.’
VII
Yet she repeats her vow, her heart in pain,To draw some love from heaven, as from the well
Whose radiant springs she once craved not in vain:
But ebbing hope allures her by its spell
To past despair, on other days to dwell,—
And suffer them again.
VIII
Across the hills of heliotrope she creeps,Or winds within the many-shadowed wolds,
Till once again the sun her pathway sweeps,
And from her weary feet the way withholds;
The sacred flowers embrace her in their folds;
From dawn to dawn she sleeps.
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IX
She sleeps; so still, not even her shadow veersSave when from side to side the moonflood roves;
But in sky-dreams the sun to her appears,
Yet with the visage of the one she loves;—
All through her sleep in phantom light he moves,
And still that face he bears.
X
She sleeps, and with the beaming of a brideBeholds that face; ah! never to be wed!
Yet why a tear, no sorrow shall betide:
Though distant borne, his rays on her are shed;
Her soul, along his way of glory sped,
Shall in his light abide.
XI
She wakes up with the sun, but in his riseSees the rich twilight of her love-dream wane:
Day seems to sink in the deserted skies,
Whose broken, many-coloured beams remain
As of her dream whose night comes back again;
'Twas dawn had closed her eyes.
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XII
The cloud-slopes blossom still, but cold and lone;Down them she floated in those heavenly dreams,
And still the veil that o'er her slumbers shone
Hangs gold-wrought in the fervour of those beams.
She kneels while watching the last fading gleams
O'er the grey twilight thrown.
XIII
With speechless lips she questions the chill blaze:Behold the sun returns; that brighter flush
Were surely day? Yet she mistrusts her gaze
Though the light widens and with lordly rush
The sun bursts forth in morning's youthful blush
And floods the heaven with rays.
XIV
Trembling she sees the paleness of her faceIn those white clouds which now the sun surround,
Who doth in heaven his spectral way retrace.
Behold, the days brought back, the hours unwound,
The angry sun unto the zenith bound
And the pale moon replace!
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XV
Perplexed, all lost, she staggers to the heightWhere the twelve pillars in their beauty shine,
The temple circling in the blessed light;
There prostrate doth she o'er her vow repine;
But fears to meet the arbiter divine
Who banishes the night.
XVI
From the lone steps at length she looks above:Behold the face is there that filled her dreams;
The youth adored, triumphant o'er her love,
There radiant shines amid descending beams;
His lustrous hair in the rich sunshine streams,
With golden lights inwove.
XVII
She lifts her arms, she falls upon the faceShe loved in heaven; her yearning heart, too blest,
Doth in deep sobs its erring way retrace.
All passion weeps, while gathers in her breast
A bliss that bears her spirit to its rest
In that divine embrace.
| Maiden Ecstasy | |