Canto the Seventh. An airy Nest.
1. Sunset on the Lake. 2. Evening—and Love—divine. 3. The
‘Downy Ironheart-tree’—whence its propensity to fit itself for
survival? 5. Stars; Orion upside down. 6. Plans for the
morrow. 7. The airy nest. 8. Return home.
I.
Now Sunset's hushed and awful Splendour fills
The solemn scene;—transfigures heaven and earth
With luminous glory as in strange new-birth;
Clothes with vermilion woods the Eastern hills;
And where the Lake should spread its glassy length
Leaves a great hollow of one hue—blood-red
As the mysterious garments round Him rolled
Who travelling in the greatness of his strength,
In glory of apparel unalloyed,
Though stained like one who doth the winepress tread,
From Edom and from Bozrah came of old.
A single bar of light, a silver thread—
Stretched o'er the incarnadined and hollow void—
Betrays the viewless surface. On each hand
See how the headlands glow in solid gold!
See in the midst that mighty Mountain stand
One ruby!—deepening off through bluer shade
And bluer, towards the North the hills and sky
Lose more and more of that ensanguined dye—
Through all the purples of the pansy fade;
And in their darkest, most impressive gloom,
Rival the richest violet's loveliest bloom.
II.
And Amo felt the evening;—felt
The solemn tenderness that dwelt
In all that gorgeous flood of pride
And splendour, spreading far and wide
Into her kindred spirit melt:
And nestling close to Ranolf's side
As half in sport and half in fear—
“Hush!”—whispered she, quite serious-eyed—
“Some awful Spirit must be near!—
What is it else that from the deep
Abyss o'erhead, seems so to creep
And creep—and ever nearer steal,
As though the heavens above us bending,
Were closing round us—slow descending!—
Not evil though, that Spirit, I feel!
But like some gentle boundless arm
Encircling us—in shelter warm
Infolding us from hurt or harm;
Close to us, yet unheard, unseen:
Just as I felt you bending down
One morn above our couch of fern,
Which you had left so soon, to learn
What bird it was whose strange new cry
('Twas that blue crane with bristly crown—
You recollect?) we heard so nigh;
And I, unknowing your return
Lay half-awake nor wooing sleep;
With eyes just lightly shut to keep
Your image there with clearer glow,
And play with it in fancy so;
In dreamy bliss—such full content—
Somehow as calm and innocent,
It seemed, as when in infant days
Upon a mother's breast I leant;
So loath was I my lids to raise;
Or my fantastic joy resign
Till I should be no more alone!—
But you had stol'n towards me unknown;
And though I neither saw nor heard,
I felt your face approach my own:
Your lips were almost touching mine,
But did not—and no limb you stirred;
I neither heard nor felt your breath,
For you were silent—still as death;
And yet I knew your presence dear,
I knew that it was you so near,
Pausing before you would impress
To wake me quite, some light caress
Of fond and playful tenderness.
But that was Love—made me so wise,
To see without the use of eyes;
And know who 'twas did by me stand,
Without the aid of ear or hand:
No tongue to speak—no limb to move,
Was needed for my heart to prove
That near approach of Love to Love!”—
“Yes—that was Love! and this, as well,
This solemn, sweet, absorbing spell,
This charm diffused o'er heaven and earth,
In Love may have its hidden birth!
For all that Reason—Science—guess,
It stands a mystery, none the less;—
A symbol, why not so designed
To do just what we find it do?
Impress upon the human Mind
A soothing sense of Love as true,
As warm and true as mine and thine,
But infinite—and all divine!—
III.
“But see! how through the floating, thin,
And tender purple gloom, one star
Is wildly throbbing—faint and far!
And lost in liquid twilight, look,
Where others lurk its depths within!—
Come, dearest, then! in yonder nook
See how, from its sun-smitten slopes
The snowy-crimson trees outthrow
Their sturdy stems that downward grow,
All firmly laced, securely braced
And cabled to the rocks with ropes
Of their own branches, backward bent
Along each coalescing trunk,
Half in its rugged column sunk
As up to roots again they run,
Stem, branch, and root, distinct yet one!
As if they saw and would prevent,
With conscious aim intelligent,
The great tree's risk so imminent
Of slipping down the steep descent.
IV.
“But does the risk produce the aim?—
On level ground no cables sprout:”
(Thinking aloud, all this, no doubt)
“Or if in some rare case thrown out—
Perchance where casual winds create
A partial risk, but not the same—
The cable hangs its listless weight
Unreaching earth; its would-be roots,
A tuft of red abortive shoots.
Adaptive Nature's powers are great;
And her organic products mate
And match each shifting change and chance
Of inorganic Circumstance;
Set each to each in ordered dance,
With a discriminating might
Of blindness keener than all sight;
And kindling here, and quenching there
At random—but with luck so rare
And mutual, ever full and fair
The cycle of Existence leave.
The trees that could their cable weave
Might stand—and those that could not—fall;
I wonder what the cause they call,
Gave this though not another tree
That cunning first propensity
For veering cables out at all!
Was it itself, itself to save
Such self-preserving prescience gave?—
This ‘struggle for existence,’ saith
Your Science, everywhere we view;
Yes! and 'tis Life's untiring true
Protest against and hate of Death!
V.
“But come, my sweet, since there at last,
The pendent trees are anchored fast;
Suppose a fern-filled mat we sling
To one, up high, of those that fling
Their branches out most straight and stout!
So fine the night we need devise
No roof against those loving skies.
How pleasant there to lie awake
And try if any glimmering sheen
Or shimmer of the sleeping Lake
So far beneath—through all the green—
The latticed screen of boughs between,
A leafy labyrinth—could be seen!
How sweet to lie up there so high,
And half asleep, so drowsily,
To all the faint night-noises hark
That make the hush more deep; and mark,
Watching the dim o'erbrooding sky,
How one by one and two by two
The moving stars come blinking through
The unmoving leaves—chink after chink—
Slow-pacing!—or if you should sleep
I might alone a vigil keep
Sometimes for mere delight; and think
What mighty Suns we use to link
Our tiny memories with; and how
Keen Sirius and red-flashing fierce
Aldebaran that deep Space may pierce,
And have no other end just now
For me, but with familiar rays
To call back far-off scenes and days!
How the faint Pleiads are less clear
Than fond regards they bring—so dear!
And old Orion upside down,
Mythic Bœotian huntsman brown—
Though here such different names he own,
Shines grand as his antique renown;
And flings abroad his giant limbs
In daring splendour nothing dims!
Although head foremost towards the sea
In all his glittering panoply
He plunges, eager to return
To those dear glorious lands below,
Far down below, where long ago
I first beheld his ardours burn!—
VI.
“And we will settle, nestling there
Which way to-morrow we shall fare;
If back to strange Orákei's stream
Whose dark-green banks are chequered bright
With many a gaudy scar and seam
Sulphureous yellow—red and white,
Where over crusted strata grey
A hundred hot-springs steam and play:
Or shall we to the Lake hard by
Of woody Oka-réka hie,
That mocks you with deceitful mien,
By loving cliffs encompassed round—
Fair captive, so resigned, serene,
Lulled in a seeming sleep profound;
Yet all the while slips off unseen
In secret diving underground;
And bursts out into open day
A beautiful Cascade, they say,
All flash and foam, a mile away!
A sudden startling change complete
From mimic death to leaping life,
As yours, my wily winsome cheat,
This morn when starting to your feet
At touch of that rude ready knife!”
VII.
What answer? but a laugh of fond assent
From her whose head upon his shoulder leant;
As, gaily springing up, the Maid addrest
Herself to that delightful task—to aid
In building birdlike such a pendulous nest
'Mid twisted stems over the waters thrown,
As charmed with thoughts of airy rest
Lightly leaf-canopied and star-inrayed;
Toyed with by tender touches of the Moon;
Bare to each influence of the fine-flecked skies;
And yet secure as ever flung the boon
Of sweet unconsciousness o'er lovers' eyes—
Yet in secluded luxury uplaid
As ever rest enjoyed by lovers lone
In any green serenity of shade.
VIII.
So through the fervid Autumn's lingering glow
But Life and Love's young Spring-time; revelling so
In Eden-scenes as lovely-strange
As to the lover's power to change
All scenes to Edens, ever yet displayed
An Eden ready-made:
So, custom-licensed to be blest and bless
In luxury of lawful lawlessness,
Did our unbridled bridal pair
Pass their wild-honeymoon no moon
Restricted—and, arriving all too soon,
Homeward to Rotorua slowly strayed.
