 | The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd |  |
59
CHRISTMAS IN THE ÆGEAN
It is the eve of Christmas in the world,
But gentle as a morn of spring,—the deep
One opal to the sky-line, as in sleep
Drifts past the seagull with her wide wings furled.
But gentle as a morn of spring,—the deep
One opal to the sky-line, as in sleep
Drifts past the seagull with her wide wings furled.
We floated on between the isles that lie
Like leaves of lilies in a summer mere,
And dreamed no storm wind ever ventured near
This zone of peace between the sea and sky.
Like leaves of lilies in a summer mere,
And dreamed no storm wind ever ventured near
This zone of peace between the sea and sky.
We dreamed of golden galleys and of quays
Bright with their burden of long colonnades,
The shrines of passion and the mystic glades,
The siren cities of the Cyclades.
Bright with their burden of long colonnades,
The shrines of passion and the mystic glades,
The siren cities of the Cyclades.
Where are the island voices now? The mirth
Is dead or silent; no mad laughter thrills
The dance of Oreads in the happy hills
Where twilight settles on a sadder earth.
Is dead or silent; no mad laughter thrills
The dance of Oreads in the happy hills
Where twilight settles on a sadder earth.
60
For here on that first Christmas eve, men said
They heard a sound like sobbing in the breeze,
A sound that scared the fisher from the seas,
A wail blown earthward, crying, ‘Pan is dead!’
They heard a sound like sobbing in the breeze,
A sound that scared the fisher from the seas,
A wail blown earthward, crying, ‘Pan is dead!’
The feet of time have touched the rocky shore,
There is a change behind the changlessness,
The suns of summer warm the world no less,
But the light heart of morning,—never more!
There is a change behind the changlessness,
The suns of summer warm the world no less,
But the light heart of morning,—never more!
So day went down behind the ocean rim,
While westward the sweet star of silence grew
Through yellow hazes melting into blue;
The shadows deepened till the isles were dim.
While westward the sweet star of silence grew
Through yellow hazes melting into blue;
The shadows deepened till the isles were dim.
Then like a soul forsaken, hushed in fright
The dark world seemed to pause, no ripple broke,
No wind, no voice of earth or ocean spoke,
While the stars watched from the great arch of night;
The dark world seemed to pause, no ripple broke,
No wind, no voice of earth or ocean spoke,
While the stars watched from the great arch of night;
Till faintly eastward flushed the hope of morn,
Pale with one star prevailing, till the grey
Lifted, the new sun triumphed, and strong day
Woke with a song voice, crying, ‘Christ is born!’
Pale with one star prevailing, till the grey
Lifted, the new sun triumphed, and strong day
Woke with a song voice, crying, ‘Christ is born!’
| The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd | |