 | Romance and revery |  |
7
THE MAGIC FLOWER.
Deep in a land of heavy-foliaged heights,
Clear-cloven of one fair lordly river, stood
A palace made for manifold delights
And compassed by a noble-towering wood.
Here lived (how anciently were hard to tell)
A king whom all his people honored well.
Clear-cloven of one fair lordly river, stood
A palace made for manifold delights
And compassed by a noble-towering wood.
Here lived (how anciently were hard to tell)
A king whom all his people honored well.
And years before that time his worshipped wife,
A queen Madonna-browed and saintly-eyed,
With anguish had surrendered life for life,
But momently a mother ere she died;
And now within these palace-walls dwelt one,
A princess, with long tresses like the sun.
A queen Madonna-browed and saintly-eyed,
With anguish had surrendered life for life,
But momently a mother ere she died;
And now within these palace-walls dwelt one,
A princess, with long tresses like the sun.
8
Ethereal in her symmetry, and tall,
And graceful as a lily when breeze-bent,
She moved among her maidens, over all
Supreme for dignity and sweetness blent,
With neither costly robe nor jewel rare
To match the marvels of her eyes and hair.
And graceful as a lily when breeze-bent,
She moved among her maidens, over all
Supreme for dignity and sweetness blent,
With neither costly robe nor jewel rare
To match the marvels of her eyes and hair.
Some influence from her mother's watchful soul
Inseparably round the Princess breathed,
And seemed, at times, a shadowy aureole
Among her glimmering tresses faintly wreathed;
And it was told that where she slept by night
A Presence watched her, made from misty light!
Inseparably round the Princess breathed,
And seemed, at times, a shadowy aureole
Among her glimmering tresses faintly wreathed;
And it was told that where she slept by night
A Presence watched her, made from misty light!
Her countenance no woodland creature saw
But straightway, on that instant, it became
Obedient to some mysterious law,
And followed if she called it, meekly tame;
And rose-vines round an oriel in her room
Were bright with fadeless fealty of bloom!
But straightway, on that instant, it became
Obedient to some mysterious law,
And followed if she called it, meekly tame;
And rose-vines round an oriel in her room
Were bright with fadeless fealty of bloom!
Now the good King, her father, having thought
How wondrously his child was pure and fair,
Desponded that the drift of fate had brought
His throne the blessing of no lineal heir;
For in this land whereof he held the throne,
No woman might aspire to reign alone.
How wondrously his child was pure and fair,
Desponded that the drift of fate had brought
His throne the blessing of no lineal heir;
For in this land whereof he held the throne,
No woman might aspire to reign alone.
9
But he to whom a princess gave her hand
When brotherless and born the eldest, might
(So ran the old sacred statutes of the land)
Reign monarch by indisputable right.
And meditating that his death drew near,
The King was smitten with a grievous fear.
When brotherless and born the eldest, might
(So ran the old sacred statutes of the land)
Reign monarch by indisputable right.
And meditating that his death drew near,
The King was smitten with a grievous fear.
“For who among our courtiers noblest-born
Deserves,” he mused, “to wed this matchless maid?
Lo! is it frivolous Rolf, whom gems adorn?
Or stripling Bertram, of the spleenful blade?
Or Ronald, of the ringlets? or, yet worse,
Young black-browed Otho, of the gamester's purse?
Deserves,” he mused, “to wed this matchless maid?
Lo! is it frivolous Rolf, whom gems adorn?
Or stripling Bertram, of the spleenful blade?
Or Ronald, of the ringlets? or, yet worse,
Young black-browed Otho, of the gamester's purse?
“Ah, none of these! And surely on our realm
Are fallen most evil days! True men no more,
Guileless of heart, invincible of helm,
Prop the proud throne with counsel, as of yore!
That mightier-limbed and lofty-thoughted race
Has past, and weak successors hold its place.
Are fallen most evil days! True men no more,
Guileless of heart, invincible of helm,
Prop the proud throne with counsel, as of yore!
That mightier-limbed and lofty-thoughted race
Has past, and weak successors hold its place.
“Gentle, heroic, temperate, simply great,
Were those of whom our treasured legends tell,—
Columnar spirits, on whose strength our state
Was builded and upborne, whate'er befell!
Calm fortresses, round whose repose and pride
The assailant waves of discord broke and died!
Were those of whom our treasured legends tell,—
Columnar spirits, on whose strength our state
Was builded and upborne, whate'er befell!
Calm fortresses, round whose repose and pride
The assailant waves of discord broke and died!
10
“But now what mockeries meet and taunt me here!
How shattered are this people that I rule!
How airily grave statecraft lends an ear
To jinglings of the bell-besprinkled fool!
How lighter than its wearer's giddy sports
The gay plume flashes in my fountained courts!”
How shattered are this people that I rule!
How airily grave statecraft lends an ear
To jinglings of the bell-besprinkled fool!
How lighter than its wearer's giddy sports
The gay plume flashes in my fountained courts!”
Thus musing, from his casement glanced the King
Where monstrous oaks o'ershadowed a green lawn
Dappled with sunbeams richly flickering,
And there, serene beside a star-eyed fawn,
He marked his child,—a shape of virgin grace,
Standing white-vestured in that cloistral place.
Where monstrous oaks o'ershadowed a green lawn
Dappled with sunbeams richly flickering,
And there, serene beside a star-eyed fawn,
He marked his child,—a shape of virgin grace,
Standing white-vestured in that cloistral place.
“Daughter whom I so cherish,” thought the sire,
“Sweet living semblance of thy mother dead,
What man, however princely, ought aspire
To share my great crown with thy hallowed head?
Better than mateless marriage for thy doom,
Death's kisses and the bride-bed of the tomb!” ...
“Sweet living semblance of thy mother dead,
What man, however princely, ought aspire
To share my great crown with thy hallowed head?
Better than mateless marriage for thy doom,
Death's kisses and the bride-bed of the tomb!” ...
Later by some few days, throughout the land
A loudening rumor passed; and these who heard
Were credulous of what the King had planned,
But those disdainfully believed no word;
And lastly, while men trusted or denied,
The voice of proclamation sounded wide.
A loudening rumor passed; and these who heard
Were credulous of what the King had planned,
But those disdainfully believed no word;
And lastly, while men trusted or denied,
The voice of proclamation sounded wide.
11
And thus it spoke: “To all the truth is known,
So often in song or story sung or told,
Of how for many a century has blown
In some high fastness or deep-tangled wold
Of these wide-looming hills that round us tower,
The hidden splendors of a Magic Flower.
So often in song or story sung or told,
Of how for many a century has blown
In some high fastness or deep-tangled wold
Of these wide-looming hills that round us tower,
The hidden splendors of a Magic Flower.
“Yet no man breathes to-day whose eyes have seen
The covert where its mystic charms endure;
And through past ages it has only been
A vision for the marvellously pure.
And if the seeker's life wear spot or stain,
Though for a life he seek, he shall not gain.
The covert where its mystic charms endure;
And through past ages it has only been
A vision for the marvellously pure.
And if the seeker's life wear spot or stain,
Though for a life he seek, he shall not gain.
“So radiant this enchanted Flower, it seems
A fair star fallen upon the earth's dull breast!
For dying searchers of old time in dreams
Beheld it after years of empty quest;
But even who truly saw, in that far day,
Lacked the white sinlessness to bear away.
A fair star fallen upon the earth's dull breast!
For dying searchers of old time in dreams
Beheld it after years of empty quest;
But even who truly saw, in that far day,
Lacked the white sinlessness to bear away.
“Now, therefore, doth the reigning King proclaim
That if within his ample realm be one
(Whether of lofty lineage and proud name,
Or lowliest of all men beneath the sun)
Who brings the famed Flower to the palace-gate,
Him doth a princess and a throne await.”
That if within his ample realm be one
(Whether of lofty lineage and proud name,
Or lowliest of all men beneath the sun)
Who brings the famed Flower to the palace-gate,
Him doth a princess and a throne await.”
12
So heralded, the royal message ran;
And wonder filled the people, and for days
No man throughout the realm encountered man
But each his judgment spoke, with eager phrase:
And all believed for surety, worst and best,
He lived not who might venture on the quest.
And wonder filled the people, and for days
No man throughout the realm encountered man
But each his judgment spoke, with eager phrase:
And all believed for surety, worst and best,
He lived not who might venture on the quest.
But they whose pleasure was in careless thought,
And flippant speech, and fashion's random aims,
And robes of price fantastically wrought,
And railleries among the beauteous dames,—
These gentry of the palace, when they heard,
Grew merry, jesting with the royal word.
And flippant speech, and fashion's random aims,
And robes of price fantastically wrought,
And railleries among the beauteous dames,—
These gentry of the palace, when they heard,
Grew merry, jesting with the royal word.
And where, with purple, gold or scarlet dress,
Down vistas that the elm and oak made dark,
In luxury, in languor and idlesse,
Gallant and lady roamed the leafy park,
Such lightsome scoffs were on the lips of these
That peals of ringing laughter pierced the trees.
Down vistas that the elm and oak made dark,
In luxury, in languor and idlesse,
Gallant and lady roamed the leafy park,
Such lightsome scoffs were on the lips of these
That peals of ringing laughter pierced the trees.
“Poor trustful King!” compassionated they,
Mirth cheapening the pity of their tone;
“He dreams, forsooth, to-day is yesterday,
Unmindful that the world is older grown
And far more wise than, taking false for true,
Wills-o'-the-wisp whole lifetimes to pursue!”
Mirth cheapening the pity of their tone;
“He dreams, forsooth, to-day is yesterday,
Unmindful that the world is older grown
And far more wise than, taking false for true,
Wills-o'-the-wisp whole lifetimes to pursue!”
13
Thus jeeringly they spoke; but neither King
Nor Princess heard an echo of their jeers.
Yet one, a simple vassal, hearkening,
His pain had fitly told with sighs and tears,
Because there dwelt within his patient breast
Much reverential honor of the quest.
Nor Princess heard an echo of their jeers.
Yet one, a simple vassal, hearkening,
His pain had fitly told with sighs and tears,
Because there dwelt within his patient breast
Much reverential honor of the quest.
But latterly these pomps of court he knew,
Brought thither by a selfish kinsman old,
Who from plebeian life had risen, and who
Willed that to none their kinship should be told;
Since he, the King's High Steward, ill could bear
Such blood as this poor serving-lad's to share.
Brought thither by a selfish kinsman old,
Who from plebeian life had risen, and who
Willed that to none their kinship should be told;
Since he, the King's High Steward, ill could bear
Such blood as this poor serving-lad's to share.
And yet, though hardened, like so many lives
Girt constantly with jars of warring needs,—
Where this man hilt to hilt with that man strives
And heartless comment hails the first who bleeds,—
Though grasping, worldly, ruthless, he had made
The vow for which his dying sister prayed.
Girt constantly with jars of warring needs,—
Where this man hilt to hilt with that man strives
And heartless comment hails the first who bleeds,—
Though grasping, worldly, ruthless, he had made
The vow for which his dying sister prayed.
To guard her orphan son had been that vow,—
Thus far but lightly kept, if kept in truth;
For seldom save at secret meeting, now,
He looked with heedful glance upon the youth,
Nor noted then, so slight and cold his care,
Deep eyes and shapely frame and modest air.
Thus far but lightly kept, if kept in truth;
For seldom save at secret meeting, now,
He looked with heedful glance upon the youth,
Nor noted then, so slight and cold his care,
Deep eyes and shapely frame and modest air.
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Nor did he dream that in a month's brief space
Among all fellow-servitors had grown
Love for the lad's mild manners and calm face
And culture of sweet speech unlike their own;
How even the rudest in his sight felt shame,
And strangely coarseness was not where he came.
Among all fellow-servitors had grown
Love for the lad's mild manners and calm face
And culture of sweet speech unlike their own;
How even the rudest in his sight felt shame,
And strangely coarseness was not where he came.
Though sprung in truth from parentage obscure,
Since boyhood he had far excelled his kind,
Having a soul pre-eminently pure,
A glowing faith, a large and limpid mind,
A heart unsoiled of envies, greeds or hates,
Lifted in loveliness above its mates!
Since boyhood he had far excelled his kind,
Having a soul pre-eminently pure,
A glowing faith, a large and limpid mind,
A heart unsoiled of envies, greeds or hates,
Lifted in loveliness above its mates!
Yet none than he with humbler spirit bore
The part 't was fortune's pleasure to assign,
Waiting in chamber and in corridor,
Serving at feast the garnet-colored wine;
Standing at throne-foot on grand audience-days,
Immovable below the crown's rich blaze.
The part 't was fortune's pleasure to assign,
Waiting in chamber and in corridor,
Serving at feast the garnet-colored wine;
Standing at throne-foot on grand audience-days,
Immovable below the crown's rich blaze.
High in the highest of those palace-towers
His room was reared, aloof from passers' heed;
And here at morning or at midnight hours
Greatly it pleasured him to muse and read,
Above the dense trees bowering the broad lawns,
Up near the wan stars or the damask dawns!
His room was reared, aloof from passers' heed;
And here at morning or at midnight hours
Greatly it pleasured him to muse and read,
Above the dense trees bowering the broad lawns,
Up near the wan stars or the damask dawns!
15
Released one midnight from the festal shine
Where courtiers revelled late with noisy zest,
By many a coil of stairway serpentine
At last he reached the chamber of his rest,
And found the placid place with moonbeams lit,
As though dead lilies' souls were haunting it.
Where courtiers revelled late with noisy zest,
By many a coil of stairway serpentine
At last he reached the chamber of his rest,
And found the placid place with moonbeams lit,
As though dead lilies' souls were haunting it.
O'er all the meagre plainness of the room
A spell of soft aerial silver reigned;
But bold there gleamed from out its dubious gloom
A griffon-crested casement, mullion-paned.
And he drew slowly near the casement's edge,
Leaning an arm upon the stony ledge.
A spell of soft aerial silver reigned;
But bold there gleamed from out its dubious gloom
A griffon-crested casement, mullion-paned.
And he drew slowly near the casement's edge,
Leaning an arm upon the stony ledge.
Cloudless above him vastly curved the night,
Where deep on deep of glowing heaven was laid;
Below, the illumined river with its light
Pierced the remote solemnities of shade,
As though the lands, for many a meadowed mile,
Parted their dark lips in one dazzling smile!
Where deep on deep of glowing heaven was laid;
Below, the illumined river with its light
Pierced the remote solemnities of shade,
As though the lands, for many a meadowed mile,
Parted their dark lips in one dazzling smile!
Broad open soon he flung the casement-panes,
And felt the breezes hurrying cool and fleet,
Sweet as fresh waters to his fevered veins,
To brow and eyelids delicately sweet,
Breathe of their distant native hills that rose,
In monumental vagueness of repose.
And felt the breezes hurrying cool and fleet,
Sweet as fresh waters to his fevered veins,
To brow and eyelids delicately sweet,
Breathe of their distant native hills that rose,
In monumental vagueness of repose.
16
And now aloft he raised both eager arms,
While on his face the summer moon fell fair,
Showing it sad for sorrow such as harms
More deeply by despondence than despair; ...
Then suddenly, before his lifted sight,
A meteor dropt along the monstrous night.
While on his face the summer moon fell fair,
Showing it sad for sorrow such as harms
More deeply by despondence than despair; ...
Then suddenly, before his lifted sight,
A meteor dropt along the monstrous night.
“Perchance,” he murmured, “as an omen sent,
This wild star, fading on the sky's blue scope,
May symbol mockery and disheartenment
To my presumptuous and insensate hope!
The great hills call me with air-whispers cool ...
Heaven answers from disdainful heights: ‘Thou fool!’
This wild star, fading on the sky's blue scope,
May symbol mockery and disheartenment
To my presumptuous and insensate hope!
The great hills call me with air-whispers cool ...
Heaven answers from disdainful heights: ‘Thou fool!’
“Ah! what is my poor trivial aim to theirs,
The aspirant souls that strongly strove and died,
Guerdonless after many toilful cares,
With effort ceaselessly unsatisfied?
Brave souls, like meteors, in audacious flight
Breaking their hearts of fire along the night!
The aspirant souls that strongly strove and died,
Guerdonless after many toilful cares,
With effort ceaselessly unsatisfied?
Brave souls, like meteors, in audacious flight
Breaking their hearts of fire along the night!
“These fought and failed. ... Shall I not fail as they?
Though victory's hidden paradise be sweet,
In vain for centuries might the searcher stray,
To grope through dizzying vistas of defeat!
Ah! no; the better lives thus vainly spent,
Crush courage with their weight of precedent!”
Though victory's hidden paradise be sweet,
In vain for centuries might the searcher stray,
To grope through dizzying vistas of defeat!
Ah! no; the better lives thus vainly spent,
Crush courage with their weight of precedent!”
17
And now he turned, those dreary words being said,
And many times along the chamber dim
Paced with close-folded arms, with low-drooped head,
Doubt and belief at bitter war in him;
And ever while he paced, the fluttering air
Played in long tender waftures through his hair
And many times along the chamber dim
Paced with close-folded arms, with low-drooped head,
Doubt and belief at bitter war in him;
And ever while he paced, the fluttering air
Played in long tender waftures through his hair
An hour so fled, and at its end he stood
Again beside the casement, and had now
Grown from tumultuous into grave of mood,
With record of resolve on lips and brow.
And presently the voice wherewith he spoke
Depths of sweet-sounding earnestness awoke:
Again beside the casement, and had now
Grown from tumultuous into grave of mood,
With record of resolve on lips and brow.
And presently the voice wherewith he spoke
Depths of sweet-sounding earnestness awoke:
“In vain, dead searchers, ye have never died!
Your failure wears the glory of success!
Better in great things to have greatly tried
Than loftily to have achieved in less!
Low ye are fallen, and yet your fame shall dwell
Proud as the fearless distances ye fell!
Your failure wears the glory of success!
Better in great things to have greatly tried
Than loftily to have achieved in less!
Low ye are fallen, and yet your fame shall dwell
Proud as the fearless distances ye fell!
“Of waves that buffet some bold steep of stone,
Not those which round the rigid bases curl
Would fitly meet it, but that wave alone
Which climbs to perish in a mist of pearl!
Though while it dies the sea-bird mocks its roar,
Ocean is glad of it from shore to shore!
Not those which round the rigid bases curl
Would fitly meet it, but that wave alone
Which climbs to perish in a mist of pearl!
Though while it dies the sea-bird mocks its roar,
Ocean is glad of it from shore to shore!
18
“Be mine the effort, though the fall be mine,
And never it is given my feet to near
The fairy fastness where that bloom divine
Stars its still solitude from year to year!
I shall go forth ere warbles the first lark
And morning murmurs through the palace-park!
And never it is given my feet to near
The fairy fastness where that bloom divine
Stars its still solitude from year to year!
I shall go forth ere warbles the first lark
And morning murmurs through the palace-park!
“I shall go forth, on hope's glad mission bound,
Heedless though I be journeying to despair;
As, while deep-plunged within some cave profound,
Some torch-flame to the last will crimson air!
So, till despair's black void shall bid it fade,
Hope shall be hope, unquenched and undismayed!
Heedless though I be journeying to despair;
As, while deep-plunged within some cave profound,
Some torch-flame to the last will crimson air!
So, till despair's black void shall bid it fade,
Hope shall be hope, unquenched and undismayed!
“And ah! hope-strengthening, there shall still abide
The fervor of that dream which late has grown
A shadow-like attendance at my side,
Wed to my life as to a flute its tone!
O thou, pure perfectly, above all blame,
Even thought bows reverence to name thy name!
The fervor of that dream which late has grown
A shadow-like attendance at my side,
Wed to my life as to a flute its tone!
O thou, pure perfectly, above all blame,
Even thought bows reverence to name thy name!
“What wonder if the wild quest that I dare,
Look promise-laden after those dull days
In which with calm and silence I would bear
The unhappy doom no utterance could phrase?—
Her my poor creatureship so high above
Loving with love that was so rashly love!
Look promise-laden after those dull days
In which with calm and silence I would bear
The unhappy doom no utterance could phrase?—
Her my poor creatureship so high above
Loving with love that was so rashly love!
19
“Oft have I climbed to this room's lonesome height
And wept hot tears that I would shame to weep,
Striving across my soul's clear-seen delight
To draw the obscuring drapery of sleep,
As one might rise and make his window dim,
Wakeful for some low gold moon watching him.
And wept hot tears that I would shame to weep,
Striving across my soul's clear-seen delight
To draw the obscuring drapery of sleep,
As one might rise and make his window dim,
Wakeful for some low gold moon watching him.
“Yet all my patient strivings were as naught,
And not again the old peace was ever won,
And always to its lofty love my thought
Staid loyal as the sunflower to its sun:
While she, that knew not of this woful thrall,
Knew not moreover if I was at all!
And not again the old peace was ever won,
And always to its lofty love my thought
Staid loyal as the sunflower to its sun:
While she, that knew not of this woful thrall,
Knew not moreover if I was at all!
“Then came at last my golden day of days!
Her yearly birth-feast gleamed with royal wealth;
I, kneeling low beneath her maiden gaze
While the great King and courtiers pledged her health,
Proffered the jewelled cup she leaned and took,
Blessing me while she leaned with one bright look!
Her yearly birth-feast gleamed with royal wealth;
I, kneeling low beneath her maiden gaze
While the great King and courtiers pledged her health,
Proffered the jewelled cup she leaned and took,
Blessing me while she leaned with one bright look!
“A moment, and her sweet eyes turned from mine,
Claimed of subservient throngs on either hand;
But in my veins the glad blood leapt like wine,
And amorous music made the air turn bland,
While through the music borne, a vague voice said:
‘For that she knows thou art, be comforted!’
Claimed of subservient throngs on either hand;
But in my veins the glad blood leapt like wine,
And amorous music made the air turn bland,
While through the music borne, a vague voice said:
‘For that she knows thou art, be comforted!’
20
“Always thenceforward, wheresoe'er we met,
I found some slight sign on her face that told
How yet I was remembered, and how yet
The precious memory had not waxen cold;
But on bare sward gleams April's earliest kiss
Not faintlier than the smile that told me this!
I found some slight sign on her face that told
How yet I was remembered, and how yet
The precious memory had not waxen cold;
But on bare sward gleams April's earliest kiss
Not faintlier than the smile that told me this!
“And now I seemed as one whose joyful sight
Sees lines of dull and beetling cliff disclose
Reaches of pasture, affluent with light,
Wooded and watered for a god's repose,—
Though, while within his breast desire burns hot,
'T is fate that valleyward he wander not!
Sees lines of dull and beetling cliff disclose
Reaches of pasture, affluent with light,
Wooded and watered for a god's repose,—
Though, while within his breast desire burns hot,
'T is fate that valleyward he wander not!
“Still, sight is given for rapture. ... So, akin,
Knowledge that now seemed knowledge, now surmise,
Made it not all mere misery to have been,
Filled life not wholly with dissentient sighs.
Dark frowned the crags; but dells whence odors came,
Busied their bird-throats with my carolled name!
Knowledge that now seemed knowledge, now surmise,
Made it not all mere misery to have been,
Filled life not wholly with dissentient sighs.
Dark frowned the crags; but dells whence odors came,
Busied their bird-throats with my carolled name!
“No longer was it strange that I grew bold,
Believing much and fondly fancying more,
My days to one rich dreamy cadence rolled,
‘She loves thee!’ ‘loves thee!’ ‘loves thee!’ o'er and o'er ...
No longer was it strange that passion strong
Sundered restraint and blossomed into song!
Believing much and fondly fancying more,
My days to one rich dreamy cadence rolled,
‘She loves thee!’ ‘loves thee!’ ‘loves thee!’ o'er and o'er ...
No longer was it strange that passion strong
Sundered restraint and blossomed into song!
21
“Dropt on that shadowed path which bough and bole
Picture at ending with a reach of sky,
Where always 't is her evening wish to stroll
Companionless, I let these poor words lie,
Known but for color from some oak's fallen leaf,
And yet no lightlier touched with tints of grief:
Picture at ending with a reach of sky,
Where always 't is her evening wish to stroll
Companionless, I let these poor words lie,
Known but for color from some oak's fallen leaf,
And yet no lightlier touched with tints of grief:
“‘If flowers have been that never saw the sun,
Or birds, fleet-plumed, that never voyaged air,
Or well-wrought lutes, unplayed by any one,
Or faultless women that no man called fair;
If these things ever have been, my heart brings
A hopeless dream, to match it with these things!
Or birds, fleet-plumed, that never voyaged air,
Or well-wrought lutes, unplayed by any one,
Or faultless women that no man called fair;
If these things ever have been, my heart brings
A hopeless dream, to match it with these things!
“‘Even as a corpse, my dream, with shrouded face,
Is borne where no light falls, no breeze may stir,
Is borne in sorrowing silence to the place
Of cold serene eternal sepulchre!
Lift not the enfolding cerements, lest thou weep,
Moved by the pathos of its marble sleep!
Is borne where no light falls, no breeze may stir,
Is borne in sorrowing silence to the place
Of cold serene eternal sepulchre!
Lift not the enfolding cerements, lest thou weep,
Moved by the pathos of its marble sleep!
“‘For since on thy pure life no blame should rest,
Because thou wert but worshipped from afar
With longing such as when the sea's prone breast
Throbs incommunicably to some star,
Surely that thou shouldst mourn my dream when dead,
Nothing hereafter shall have profited!’
Because thou wert but worshipped from afar
With longing such as when the sea's prone breast
Throbs incommunicably to some star,
Surely that thou shouldst mourn my dream when dead,
Nothing hereafter shall have profited!’
22
“Thus plaintive ran the song that I had wrought;
And watchful of the dim path where it lay,
I lingered on till cool-aired evening brought
The Princess, gliding in her graceful way:
Unseen I lingered, and unseen erelong
I saw her white hand hovering o'er the song.
And watchful of the dim path where it lay,
I lingered on till cool-aired evening brought
The Princess, gliding in her graceful way:
Unseen I lingered, and unseen erelong
I saw her white hand hovering o'er the song.
“But straightway then I felt quick terror draw
Thrill after thrill from faltering heart to brain,
And strangely, as with altered vision, saw
This, my late act, rash, insolent and vain;
Then fled, like one whom some sharp wound provokes,
Fleet-footed through the labyrinthine oaks.
Thrill after thrill from faltering heart to brain,
And strangely, as with altered vision, saw
This, my late act, rash, insolent and vain;
Then fled, like one whom some sharp wound provokes,
Fleet-footed through the labyrinthine oaks.
“With poignance of unspeakable regret
For folly such as wakened wisdom shows,
Tireless amid the hours until we met,
Self-accusation dealt its deadly blows;
And on the morrow my wrung spirit knew
How night's black prophecies were proven true!
For folly such as wakened wisdom shows,
Tireless amid the hours until we met,
Self-accusation dealt its deadly blows;
And on the morrow my wrung spirit knew
How night's black prophecies were proven true!
“For even as one who loves a wild-wood place
Because of leafy charms he has often seen,
Yet misses now a well-remembered grace
Wind-ravaged from its garlandries of green;
So, passing her, I marked the clear eyes grown
To one calm blank avoidance of my own.
Because of leafy charms he has often seen,
Yet misses now a well-remembered grace
Wind-ravaged from its garlandries of green;
So, passing her, I marked the clear eyes grown
To one calm blank avoidance of my own.
23
“All beauty engirt her sweetly, as of old;
But now no dear regardful gleam was lent
To light, in their smooth harmony of mould,
Unsullied brow or classic lineament.
And morrow, lapsing into morrow, bare
Fresh fagots to the flame of my despair!
But now no dear regardful gleam was lent
To light, in their smooth harmony of mould,
Unsullied brow or classic lineament.
And morrow, lapsing into morrow, bare
Fresh fagots to the flame of my despair!
“For since my love had ventured from the first
No height of hope more daring than to show
The unspoken curse wherewith its life was curst,
The knowledge of that joy 't was death to know,
Meaning not bolder by the song's late strain
Than when some wearied captive moves his chain;
No height of hope more daring than to show
The unspoken curse wherewith its life was curst,
The knowledge of that joy 't was death to know,
Meaning not bolder by the song's late strain
Than when some wearied captive moves his chain;
“Since I the lowliest part had willed to play,
And homage not unseemlier to allege
Than those rich flowers that bloom in bright array
Perpetually round her casement's edge,
Thrilling, I doubt not, through each burdened stem
If her benignant eyes approve of them,—
And homage not unseemlier to allege
Than those rich flowers that bloom in bright array
Perpetually round her casement's edge,
Thrilling, I doubt not, through each burdened stem
If her benignant eyes approve of them,—
“Now, therefore, that I sought this mediate sense
Between cold vassalage and love's warm phrase,
Yet proffered but a menial's insolence,
Jeered from the encircling world on all my days!
The brutes, the flowers, earth, water, sky or air
Had right of reverence that I could not share!
Between cold vassalage and love's warm phrase,
Yet proffered but a menial's insolence,
Jeered from the encircling world on all my days!
The brutes, the flowers, earth, water, sky or air
Had right of reverence that I could not share!
24
“And so in drear disquietude I past
Through hours of darkness whose appointed end
Seemed possible alone when death at last
The shade of its austerer gloom should send,—
Till that strange message, loud along the land,
Cheered like the waving of a far white hand!
Through hours of darkness whose appointed end
Seemed possible alone when death at last
The shade of its austerer gloom should send,—
Till that strange message, loud along the land,
Cheered like the waving of a far white hand!
“Lo, now the patriarch King proclaims! and lo,
Disloyalty contemns his high decree!
Yet on the wild quest men refuse I go,—
I go, nor shall much toil dishearten me!
Hide well, strange haughty Flower, that wondrous crest!
Another life is arming for thy quest!
Disloyalty contemns his high decree!
Yet on the wild quest men refuse I go,—
I go, nor shall much toil dishearten me!
Hide well, strange haughty Flower, that wondrous crest!
Another life is arming for thy quest!
“Powers of the darkness, Powers of the wind or light,
Mysterious, masterful, whate'er ye are
That shroud this peerless bloom from mortal sight
As black-winged thunder shrouds a sparkling star,
Does now, while mountainward my words are borne,
Scorn on dim awful faces answer scorn?
Mysterious, masterful, whate'er ye are
That shroud this peerless bloom from mortal sight
As black-winged thunder shrouds a sparkling star,
Does now, while mountainward my words are borne,
Scorn on dim awful faces answer scorn?
“In some still cavern, sacred to your spells,
Group ye, with knit brows and strong folded arms,
The resolute unpitying sentinels
Whom this my purpose grieves not nor alarms?
Or do ye sigh that one more life should spend
Bright-blooded youth toward an empty end?
Group ye, with knit brows and strong folded arms,
The resolute unpitying sentinels
Whom this my purpose grieves not nor alarms?
Or do ye sigh that one more life should spend
Bright-blooded youth toward an empty end?
25
“Spirits, I may not know if pity fills
Your hearts with lenient heed of my heart's woe;
Or if ye keep alike for all men's ills
Unvarying scorn, Spirits, I may not know!
But whether hate or whether love be yours,
Be mine the zeal that till I die endures!” ...
Your hearts with lenient heed of my heart's woe;
Or if ye keep alike for all men's ills
Unvarying scorn, Spirits, I may not know!
But whether hate or whether love be yours,
Be mine the zeal that till I die endures!” ...
Thus having murmured, ere an hour he stood
Where moon-made arabesques lay sweet to see
Under the breezy leafage of that wood
Which reared on all sides many a massive tree;
Nor lingered long, but fared till far away
The royal towers loomed huge in breaking day.
Where moon-made arabesques lay sweet to see
Under the breezy leafage of that wood
Which reared on all sides many a massive tree;
Nor lingered long, but fared till far away
The royal towers loomed huge in breaking day.
Before him, at the horizon, waved the clear
Bough-vestured contour of those hills he sought,
Here broken with meadowy intervals, and here
In spaces of long shadowy forest wrought,
Their summits turbaned with pale misty fleece,
Dawn-flushed and plastic to the wind's caprice.
Bough-vestured contour of those hills he sought,
Here broken with meadowy intervals, and here
In spaces of long shadowy forest wrought,
Their summits turbaned with pale misty fleece,
Dawn-flushed and plastic to the wind's caprice.
Now on toward those majestic hills he bore;
And just at noon he knelt beside a spring
Set like a jewel in a glade's green floor,
And drank, and heard the mavis carolling,
Or close at hand the rich euphonious boom
Of wild bees revelling in a brake of bloom.
And just at noon he knelt beside a spring
Set like a jewel in a glade's green floor,
And drank, and heard the mavis carolling,
Or close at hand the rich euphonious boom
Of wild bees revelling in a brake of bloom.
26
And now it seemed that all sweet sounds or sights
Were touched with pensiveness in tone or hue,
Here at the land-rim whence those wooded heights
Billowed immense against the northern blue;
From sky-tint, bird-song, leaf-gloss or wind-swell
Farewell reiterating soft farewell!
Were touched with pensiveness in tone or hue,
Here at the land-rim whence those wooded heights
Billowed immense against the northern blue;
From sky-tint, bird-song, leaf-gloss or wind-swell
Farewell reiterating soft farewell!
For he had gained that limit whence began
Perchance the unchanging doom of keen unrest. ...
And here the annalist would vainly scan
By separate episodes his patient quest,
Since each day's fresh toil brought, in weary way,
Laborious likeness to its yesterday.
Perchance the unchanging doom of keen unrest. ...
And here the annalist would vainly scan
By separate episodes his patient quest,
Since each day's fresh toil brought, in weary way,
Laborious likeness to its yesterday.
And time went flowing along, but he was now
A wanderer still, his stubborn hope not dead,
Wearing maturer signs on cheek and brow,
Bounteously bearded and wild-garmented;
Older by years, and yet with youth well seen
In stalwart stature and in virile mien.
A wanderer still, his stubborn hope not dead,
Wearing maturer signs on cheek and brow,
Bounteously bearded and wild-garmented;
Older by years, and yet with youth well seen
In stalwart stature and in virile mien.
No constant home for night or day was his;
With none to heed where he might pause, whence flit,
His life was even as some fleet mute life is,
Ignorant that its own shade follows it;
And ever, where he staid to sleep, the spot
Through all its myriad morrows knew him not.
With none to heed where he might pause, whence flit,
His life was even as some fleet mute life is,
Ignorant that its own shade follows it;
And ever, where he staid to sleep, the spot
Through all its myriad morrows knew him not.
27
For drink the mountain streams gave crystal store,
The foliaged wildernesses gave for food
Snared game, and berries that its bushes bore,
And many a savage herb or root-growth rude;
And the steep lands he roamed for slumber gave
Countless complexities of pass and cave.
The foliaged wildernesses gave for food
Snared game, and berries that its bushes bore,
And many a savage herb or root-growth rude;
And the steep lands he roamed for slumber gave
Countless complexities of pass and cave.
Nor through those lands did winter work large ill:
Snows came not, or fell lightly if they fell;
Whence in all seasons he might search at will
Summit by summit or deep dell by dell;
And wherefore seldom was he doomed to dare
The wilder savageries of earth and air.
Snows came not, or fell lightly if they fell;
Whence in all seasons he might search at will
Summit by summit or deep dell by dell;
And wherefore seldom was he doomed to dare
The wilder savageries of earth and air.
Sandalled he was in strong-thonged rugged wise,
And clothed with sturdy skins of his own spoil,
Flexile the girth of shoulder and of thighs
To raiment fitly for his mountain toil,—
Seeming, apparelled thus, a shape that trod
Guardian of those acclivities and god!
And clothed with sturdy skins of his own spoil,
Flexile the girth of shoulder and of thighs
To raiment fitly for his mountain toil,—
Seeming, apparelled thus, a shape that trod
Guardian of those acclivities and god!
But mercilessly glided on the years,
And yet the elusive guerdon was not gained;
And moods possessed him now of lonely tears,
Like blood-drops from his heart's hot centre drained;
And age, that spares no mortal strength of limb,
Became as unseen shackles clasping him.
And yet the elusive guerdon was not gained;
And moods possessed him now of lonely tears,
Like blood-drops from his heart's hot centre drained;
And age, that spares no mortal strength of limb,
Became as unseen shackles clasping him.
28
Then, while hope withered in his wearied breast,
And his dead youth a phantom summons grew,
Valleyward luring him, since life at best
Of unborn days held meagre residue,
Still he staid firm, and with unfailing will
Wrought him a staff, and weakly wandered still.
And his dead youth a phantom summons grew,
Valleyward luring him, since life at best
Of unborn days held meagre residue,
Still he staid firm, and with unfailing will
Wrought him a staff, and weakly wandered still.
“For now,” he mused, “the end is near and sure;
The story of my long quest is all but told;
My life, a tremulous leaf, hangs insecure;
Death's wind is fluttering round its languid hold.
Let my short future fitly crown my past,
Resolute, sacrificial, till the last!” ...
The story of my long quest is all but told;
My life, a tremulous leaf, hangs insecure;
Death's wind is fluttering round its languid hold.
Let my short future fitly crown my past,
Resolute, sacrificial, till the last!” ...
So the rude hills yet held him, now no more
Going light of foot along their wavy ways,
Feebler of step while ever onward wore
The hours of those inexorable days;—
Half glad to feel his futile searching cease,
Half eager for death's darkness and its peace.
Going light of foot along their wavy ways,
Feebler of step while ever onward wore
The hours of those inexorable days;—
Half glad to feel his futile searching cease,
Half eager for death's darkness and its peace.
Then it befell at last, one fatal morn,
That after wakening he essayed to rise,
And moaning a great hollow moan forlorn,
Sank backward with white lips and glassy eyes,
While round the rock-built vaultage where he lay
The careless dawn became the careless day.
That after wakening he essayed to rise,
And moaning a great hollow moan forlorn,
Sank backward with white lips and glassy eyes,
While round the rock-built vaultage where he lay
The careless dawn became the careless day.
29
Prone with exceeding faintness did he lie
Till evening, and at evening was aware
That sounds of solemn storm were in the sky,
And gusty spasms were shaking the dim air;
And while he listened his desire grew deep
Forth from the shadow-haunted cave to creep.
Till evening, and at evening was aware
That sounds of solemn storm were in the sky,
And gusty spasms were shaking the dim air;
And while he listened his desire grew deep
Forth from the shadow-haunted cave to creep.
So, panting hard and straining his poor strength,
He dragged his nerveless body pace by pace,
And under the dull windy heaven at length
Crouched in the bleak light of an open place;
And then, while fierce gales tossed his whitened hair,
Girt with the growing storm, he prayed this prayer:
He dragged his nerveless body pace by pace,
And under the dull windy heaven at length
Crouched in the bleak light of an open place;
And then, while fierce gales tossed his whitened hair,
Girt with the growing storm, he prayed this prayer:
“Stern warders of the Flower, I charge you, hear!
Witness, I charge, the death-damp on my brow!
I, impotent, that many a dauntless year
Strode on through thorny failure, perish now!
And yet, imperious bafflers, while I die,
Even this deep thunder shall not drown my cry!
Witness, I charge, the death-damp on my brow!
I, impotent, that many a dauntless year
Strode on through thorny failure, perish now!
And yet, imperious bafflers, while I die,
Even this deep thunder shall not drown my cry!
“For lo, I freight with fervor of appeal
The black wings of the tempest! Lo, I make
These weak lips, that death seals with frigid seal,
A voice above the rumbling cloud-heights wake!
By all my long hope's long unanswered need,
Spirits invisible, I charge you, heed!
The black wings of the tempest! Lo, I make
These weak lips, that death seals with frigid seal,
A voice above the rumbling cloud-heights wake!
By all my long hope's long unanswered need,
Spirits invisible, I charge you, heed!
30
“If yet she lives, that saintly and lovely soul
In whose dear service I have faltered not,
Attaining this my untriumphant goal
Here at the limit of my woful lot,
Grant me to find her feet, and kneeling tell
How mine fared faithful till the hour I fell!
In whose dear service I have faltered not,
Attaining this my untriumphant goal
Here at the limit of my woful lot,
Grant me to find her feet, and kneeling tell
How mine fared faithful till the hour I fell!
“Grant me thus much, O ye that have denied
All else with changeless calm of disregard!
Yet deem not, thus demanding, that I chide
Your ways of hidden will, however hard,
Nor doubt remembrance of my toil has lent
Victory to mine hour of vanquishment!
All else with changeless calm of disregard!
Yet deem not, thus demanding, that I chide
Your ways of hidden will, however hard,
Nor doubt remembrance of my toil has lent
Victory to mine hour of vanquishment!
“For though indeed this life shall straightway pass,
And the unborn morrow's first faint rosy ray
Shall find me dumb as granite on the grass,
While chance winds breathe above my pulseless clay,
This down-flung husk and sheath of what was I
Sepulchred only of the arching sky;
And the unborn morrow's first faint rosy ray
Shall find me dumb as granite on the grass,
While chance winds breathe above my pulseless clay,
This down-flung husk and sheath of what was I
Sepulchred only of the arching sky;
“Although, perchance, before a month shall end,
My naked bones lie pale, my body turn
Dust-booty for the frivolous gales to send
Anywhither, in antic unconcern;
Still, that I strove and faltered not, shall stand
Beyond the ruin of corruption's hand!” ...
My naked bones lie pale, my body turn
Dust-booty for the frivolous gales to send
Anywhither, in antic unconcern;
Still, that I strove and faltered not, shall stand
Beyond the ruin of corruption's hand!” ...
31
There through the strange tempestuous dusk rose high
His fervent words till even the last was said. ...
Then rolled the thunder, like a god's reply,
Reverberate and voluminous overhead;
But ere the echo of the peal was done,
Turmoil and silence to his ears were one!
His fervent words till even the last was said. ...
Then rolled the thunder, like a god's reply,
Reverberate and voluminous overhead;
But ere the echo of the peal was done,
Turmoil and silence to his ears were one!
And while the strengthening storm-wrack's abrupt night
Disfeatured all that mountainous domain,
Above him abject rioted the might
Of ruffian blasts that whirled the sheeted rain;
And momently, unnoted of his eyes,
The lawless lightning rent the livid skies!
Disfeatured all that mountainous domain,
Above him abject rioted the might
Of ruffian blasts that whirled the sheeted rain;
And momently, unnoted of his eyes,
The lawless lightning rent the livid skies!
Long horribly raved the tempest, and long staid
The startling interchange of peal and glare,
Till now, an utter stillness being made,
No stem was stirred within the palsied air,
And dawn against the sky-line, dim to view,
Cinctured the opaque heaven with ghastly blue.
The startling interchange of peal and glare,
Till now, an utter stillness being made,
No stem was stirred within the palsied air,
And dawn against the sky-line, dim to view,
Cinctured the opaque heaven with ghastly blue.
But broadening zenithward, the light began,
As though some desolate polar sea should split
When Arctic summer cleaves its crystal span
Of ice, disparting and dispelling it;
Even thus the darkness, to its core moon-ploughed,
Broke in great pearly bergs of drifting cloud.
As though some desolate polar sea should split
When Arctic summer cleaves its crystal span
Of ice, disparting and dispelling it;
Even thus the darkness, to its core moon-ploughed,
Broke in great pearly bergs of drifting cloud.
32
And forthwith as the face of one who grieves
By sudden joy is filled, its tears yet warm,
The lustre of innumerable leaves
Laughed limitless below the wasted storm;
And many plaintive unseen insect things
Filled the wet world with dreamy murmurings.
By sudden joy is filled, its tears yet warm,
The lustre of innumerable leaves
Laughed limitless below the wasted storm;
And many plaintive unseen insect things
Filled the wet world with dreamy murmurings.
Then wondrously he started up from swoon,
He started with spread arms, and straightway knew
For true indeed the mild full-rounded moon,
The scintillance of sward indeed for true!
And sure that no death-fancy tricked his sight,
Trembled in deep thanksgiving and delight.
He started with spread arms, and straightway knew
For true indeed the mild full-rounded moon,
The scintillance of sward indeed for true!
And sure that no death-fancy tricked his sight,
Trembled in deep thanksgiving and delight.
Soon also, glad at heart, was he aware
That all sore malady had slipt from him,
And that he stood on earth, with answered prayer,
Potent in each resuscitated limb,
Still one in whom youth's fire hath ashes turned,
Yet strong to achieve that end for which he yearned.
That all sore malady had slipt from him,
And that he stood on earth, with answered prayer,
Potent in each resuscitated limb,
Still one in whom youth's fire hath ashes turned,
Yet strong to achieve that end for which he yearned.
While thus he paused, about the shining sward
(For so it fell, as if by random chance),
Ere from those pale heights he went palace-ward,
A moment wandered his half-heedless glance,
Beholding, severed by the late storm's power,
The ruined stalk of one wild mountain-flower.
(For so it fell, as if by random chance),
Ere from those pale heights he went palace-ward,
A moment wandered his half-heedless glance,
Beholding, severed by the late storm's power,
The ruined stalk of one wild mountain-flower.
33
And watchful of how low its leafage drooped,
Compassionate regard illumed his eyes,
And close above the shattered Flower he stooped,
Until his white beard touched it vapor-wise,
And on his hand one large tear, like a gem,
Dropt as he broke the green bud from the stem.
Compassionate regard illumed his eyes,
And close above the shattered Flower he stooped,
Until his white beard touched it vapor-wise,
And on his hand one large tear, like a gem,
Dropt as he broke the green bud from the stem.
Then rising, with slow tremulous tones he said:
“Be joined our sad fallen fortunes, fate with fate,
Poor bud, that in blast-levelled lowlihead
Sorrowest for sweet hope unconsummate!
Surely with me 't were fitter thou shouldst fare,
Companioning with ruin my despair!
“Be joined our sad fallen fortunes, fate with fate,
Poor bud, that in blast-levelled lowlihead
Sorrowest for sweet hope unconsummate!
Surely with me 't were fitter thou shouldst fare,
Companioning with ruin my despair!
“We shall go down, we two, toward that dear land
Whence in days distant my desire took wing,
And where like sea-foam to the sea-swept sand
Manifold lovely memories yet cling!
We shall go down, while these calm hills, for us,
Abide indifferent to our exodus!
Whence in days distant my desire took wing,
And where like sea-foam to the sea-swept sand
Manifold lovely memories yet cling!
We shall go down, while these calm hills, for us,
Abide indifferent to our exodus!
“Lo, here, in place of perished youth shall be
The shadow of wrinkled age I am become!
And as I kneel upon allegiant knee
To murmur of my life's long martyrdom,
Thou shalt well cast, poor bud of piteous blight,
Cold irony on that lost Flower's delight!
The shadow of wrinkled age I am become!
And as I kneel upon allegiant knee
To murmur of my life's long martyrdom,
Thou shalt well cast, poor bud of piteous blight,
Cold irony on that lost Flower's delight!
34
“But she, I doubt not, bending where I kneel
Her sweet memorial charm of unchanged eyes,
Through all her soul's white chastity shall feel
A new slow splendor of divine surprise,
Brimming it wholly, as pure dawn might brim
All a clean lily to the balmy rim!
Her sweet memorial charm of unchanged eyes,
Through all her soul's white chastity shall feel
A new slow splendor of divine surprise,
Brimming it wholly, as pure dawn might brim
All a clean lily to the balmy rim!
“And then, I dare hope, dowered with gentle strength,
Clear through my proud heart shall her vision go,
Until her spirit shall have learned at length
The life-long fealty of my own to know,—
Viewed by one glad look, as mild lightnings view
Some deep cloud-cloister of the midnight blue!
Clear through my proud heart shall her vision go,
Until her spirit shall have learned at length
The life-long fealty of my own to know,—
Viewed by one glad look, as mild lightnings view
Some deep cloud-cloister of the midnight blue!
“And though in that last hour we seem to meet,
Given of the churlish years but slender grace,
As two that stand chasm-sundered while the fleet
Immitigable dark hides face from face;
Yet in such hour,—nay, even at death's bleak edge,
To have deemed my stern past vain were sacrilege!” ...
Given of the churlish years but slender grace,
As two that stand chasm-sundered while the fleet
Immitigable dark hides face from face;
Yet in such hour,—nay, even at death's bleak edge,
To have deemed my stern past vain were sacrilege!” ...
Down o'er the slopes of those dawn-lighted hills,
Having so spoken, he set forth full soon,
By rocky barriers and by rainy rills
And pines keen-pinnacled against the moon,
Or tracts of wood whose fissured foliage made
Pillared serenities of ghostly shade.
Having so spoken, he set forth full soon,
By rocky barriers and by rainy rills
And pines keen-pinnacled against the moon,
Or tracts of wood whose fissured foliage made
Pillared serenities of ghostly shade.
35
And marvellous also was the agile speed
That spurred his steps on their steep downward way,
As though he had gained some grace of godlike heed
That willed all weariness to stand at bay;
And he had crossed the utmost hill's lone height
Ere yet the suave moon held the central night.
That spurred his steps on their steep downward way,
As though he had gained some grace of godlike heed
That willed all weariness to stand at bay;
And he had crossed the utmost hill's lone height
Ere yet the suave moon held the central night.
Now onward with unlessening speed he went
Over the lowlands, till three added hours
In distant fathoms of wan firmament
Had reared before him the black palace-towers,
And reached at last the royal park, and stood
Among the bowers and aisles of its broad wood.
Over the lowlands, till three added hours
In distant fathoms of wan firmament
Had reared before him the black palace-towers,
And reached at last the royal park, and stood
Among the bowers and aisles of its broad wood.
But when he neared the palace-walls, and let
His glance roam as it listed, here and there,
Watching the parapet on parapet
Of terraced lawn drop grandly through vague air,
The bloomful urns, the shrubs in gleaming line,
The carven cornice, the armorial sign,
His glance roam as it listed, here and there,
Watching the parapet on parapet
Of terraced lawn drop grandly through vague air,
The bloomful urns, the shrubs in gleaming line,
The carven cornice, the armorial sign,
Or yet the solemn portals of vast size,
The graceful balconies vine-screened from sight,
The flickering fountains that curved petal-wise
From calices of sculptured malachite,
The silvery pools, the slopes of dreamy fall,
The myriad-windowed palace proud o'er all,—
The graceful balconies vine-screened from sight,
The flickering fountains that curved petal-wise
From calices of sculptured malachite,
The silvery pools, the slopes of dreamy fall,
The myriad-windowed palace proud o'er all,—
36
Now when he had viewed these fair shapes one by one,
From time's tyrannic changes all seemed free,
As, after centuries of storm and sun,
The immemorial dictatorial sea;
Nor could he mark a trace whereby to tell
Of the fierce years that plunder and dispel.
From time's tyrannic changes all seemed free,
As, after centuries of storm and sun,
The immemorial dictatorial sea;
Nor could he mark a trace whereby to tell
Of the fierce years that plunder and dispel.
But when he reached the steps where grim in stone
Two lions of mighty bulk were crouched at base,
Sheer from his jaded frame all zeal had flown,
Craving for any rest in any place;
And forthwith, grown too tired to heed or care,
He sank in slumber on the stately stair. ...
Two lions of mighty bulk were crouched at base,
Sheer from his jaded frame all zeal had flown,
Craving for any rest in any place;
And forthwith, grown too tired to heed or care,
He sank in slumber on the stately stair. ...
Then it befell for him that they who keep
Ward o'er the weightless phantasms we name dreams,
Divided the dark tapestries of sleep
On a drear vision of strange glooms and gleams,—
A glimmering cavern, huge and deadly still,
Like the cold hollowed heart of some great hill.
Ward o'er the weightless phantasms we name dreams,
Divided the dark tapestries of sleep
On a drear vision of strange glooms and gleams,—
A glimmering cavern, huge and deadly still,
Like the cold hollowed heart of some great hill.
Rough-cloven of living rock the arched walls rose,
In gray quiescence, in sepulchral light;
And here, while silence took intense repose,
He moved with laggard steps, with doubtful sight,
And on through openings far away descried
New shadowy cavern into cavern glide.
In gray quiescence, in sepulchral light;
And here, while silence took intense repose,
He moved with laggard steps, with doubtful sight,
And on through openings far away descried
New shadowy cavern into cavern glide.
37
But glancing earthward swiftly, in a trice
He felt his brain reel hard in throes of dread,
Felt horror like a rigid hand of ice
Assault his heart and make his limbs grow lead,
And strove to let one bitter cry cleave air,
But stood with locked lips and affrighted stare.
He felt his brain reel hard in throes of dread,
Felt horror like a rigid hand of ice
Assault his heart and make his limbs grow lead,
And strove to let one bitter cry cleave air,
But stood with locked lips and affrighted stare.
For all the cavern's amplitude of floor
Was clogged with human forms whose every face
Death's pale indubitable sign upbore,
Haggard and wide-eyed in that spectral place;
Yet though they seemed long dead, for some strange cause
Corruption marred them with no hideous flaws.
Was clogged with human forms whose every face
Death's pale indubitable sign upbore,
Haggard and wide-eyed in that spectral place;
Yet though they seemed long dead, for some strange cause
Corruption marred them with no hideous flaws.
Then he was made aware, in this wild dream,
That near him, risen from deeper deeps, there stood
Many commingled shapes of mien supreme,
With beauty and awe to tell their brotherhood;
Shapes as funereal-hued and large as when
Thunder-clouds move in images of men.
That near him, risen from deeper deeps, there stood
Many commingled shapes of mien supreme,
With beauty and awe to tell their brotherhood;
Shapes as funereal-hued and large as when
Thunder-clouds move in images of men.
But one rose kinglier than his kind, and he
Spake presently, with rich voice pealing clear:
“Believe not thou the throngs that compass thee
Allured but of their own blind rashness here!
Lo, these that sought the sacred Flower and gained
Void shadow, are thus defeated, thus disdained!”
Spake presently, with rich voice pealing clear:
“Believe not thou the throngs that compass thee
Allured but of their own blind rashness here!
Lo, these that sought the sacred Flower and gained
Void shadow, are thus defeated, thus disdained!”
38
So in his curious dream that spirit spake,
Sweeping one haughty hand above the dead ...
And now a silence which he dared not break
Followed for many moments, till he said:
“And on my own life must the same doom fall,
Thus to lie lifeless in this monstrous hall?” ...
Sweeping one haughty hand above the dead ...
And now a silence which he dared not break
Followed for many moments, till he said:
“And on my own life must the same doom fall,
Thus to lie lifeless in this monstrous hall?” ...
Even then, as if for answer, he awoke
Immediately; and now the morn was high,
And all the towering stair besieged of folk
Who turned to him with many an eager eye;
And near him stood, both wondering hands outspread,
The King, deemed long ago among the dead! ...
Immediately; and now the morn was high,
And all the towering stair besieged of folk
Who turned to him with many an eager eye;
And near him stood, both wondering hands outspread,
The King, deemed long ago among the dead! ...
But when from prostrate posture he rose up,
He wondered sharply that his hand should hold
A great flower, like a diamond-crusted cup,
Dazzling with blended splendors manifold,—
A thing in truth so radiant that man's sight
Failed where it blazed, ineffable for light!
He wondered sharply that his hand should hold
A great flower, like a diamond-crusted cup,
Dazzling with blended splendors manifold,—
A thing in truth so radiant that man's sight
Failed where it blazed, ineffable for light!
Lo, even to such magnificence of bloom
Had burst the poor bud gathered by his hand
When pitiful of its vague moonlit gloom,
Ere he went downward from that lofty land;—
Common and lonely then, but at this hour
Miraculously grown the long-sought Flower!
Had burst the poor bud gathered by his hand
When pitiful of its vague moonlit gloom,
Ere he went downward from that lofty land;—
Common and lonely then, but at this hour
Miraculously grown the long-sought Flower!
39
Nay, nor long sought! in truth, not sought so long,
By many a fancied year, as he had deemed;
For now in centre of that marvelling throng
Fair with all youthful majesty he seemed
As when he moved, ere yet the quest was old,
Lordly and lovely over wild and wold.
By many a fancied year, as he had deemed;
For now in centre of that marvelling throng
Fair with all youthful majesty he seemed
As when he moved, ere yet the quest was old,
Lordly and lovely over wild and wold.
For thus far had the quest been real; but all
Which followed by some wayward spell was lent,
Out from the dominance of whose dark thrall
He woke at last in speechless wonderment,
Those latter years of weakness, woe and toil
Cast wholly from him, like a snake's dry coil!
Which followed by some wayward spell was lent,
Out from the dominance of whose dark thrall
He woke at last in speechless wonderment,
Those latter years of weakness, woe and toil
Cast wholly from him, like a snake's dry coil!
And now, before another hour was fled,
The King had learned the story of his quest,
And he had felt upon obeisant head
The hands of royal benediction rest,
And heard the murmur: “Thou hast nobly won
The title of thy sovereign's chosen son!” ...
The King had learned the story of his quest,
And he had felt upon obeisant head
The hands of royal benediction rest,
And heard the murmur: “Thou hast nobly won
The title of thy sovereign's chosen son!” ...
So the King spake, with faint yet tender tone,
As one that ill can hide besieging tears,
And left him in a great rich room alone,
Those words like echoing music to his ears,
And all his soul like gladdened wine that keeps
A spear of sunlight in its ruby deeps!
As one that ill can hide besieging tears,
And left him in a great rich room alone,
Those words like echoing music to his ears,
And all his soul like gladdened wine that keeps
A spear of sunlight in its ruby deeps!
40
But while he mused how fate had willed to send,
After continual sorrow bliss untold,
Softly was parted at the chamber's end
A crimson arras wrought with ferns of gold;
And issuing thence, with cheeks like rosy flame,
With eyes all starry fire, the Princess came.
After continual sorrow bliss untold,
Softly was parted at the chamber's end
A crimson arras wrought with ferns of gold;
And issuing thence, with cheeks like rosy flame,
With eyes all starry fire, the Princess came.
And outward from no flower's fair covert slips
Any bright-belted bee its charms beguile,
Than brilliant now between flower-balmy lips
Broke the warm wordless welcome of her smile;
And watching her chaste face, for joy agleam,
It was with him as when we dream we dream.
Any bright-belted bee its charms beguile,
Than brilliant now between flower-balmy lips
Broke the warm wordless welcome of her smile;
And watching her chaste face, for joy agleam,
It was with him as when we dream we dream.
Entranced, elated, thrilled, he faltered then,
While she drew nearer, clad in noiseless white:
“Not often, I think, does death so favor men
A moment ere his hand shall fall and smite.
Thou, beauteous Presence, wrought of shadowy dream,
Art not, for all thou dost so sweetly seem!
While she drew nearer, clad in noiseless white:
“Not often, I think, does death so favor men
A moment ere his hand shall fall and smite.
Thou, beauteous Presence, wrought of shadowy dream,
Art not, for all thou dost so sweetly seem!
“Nay, I remember what the legends told,—
How, dying after years of empty quest,
Those other searchers would in dreams behold
The lost Flower's dazzling secret full-confessed.
But my lot verily hath larger bliss;
My death-dream wears diviner emphasis!” ...
How, dying after years of empty quest,
Those other searchers would in dreams behold
The lost Flower's dazzling secret full-confessed.
But my lot verily hath larger bliss;
My death-dream wears diviner emphasis!” ...
41
Then spake the Princess, murmuring: “Ah, be sure
With all strange dreams and spells thy days are done,
Thou life no lustral sire might wash more pure,
Thou valorous and unvanquishable one!
Rather than deem thou dreamest, meet at last
Me, the poor guerdon of thy laboring past!
With all strange dreams and spells thy days are done,
Thou life no lustral sire might wash more pure,
Thou valorous and unvanquishable one!
Rather than deem thou dreamest, meet at last
Me, the poor guerdon of thy laboring past!
“Ah, poor indeed! since how shall these eyes dare
View shameless the calm grandeur of thine own?
Tried hast thou been by stern ordeal; but where
Has my great worth at all been proven or shown?
Yet now, for nothing given, thy love is won,—
A gem outvaluing the vital sun!
View shameless the calm grandeur of thine own?
Tried hast thou been by stern ordeal; but where
Has my great worth at all been proven or shown?
Yet now, for nothing given, thy love is won,—
A gem outvaluing the vital sun!
“Pardon, if thy full story met my ear
While mute I stood where yonder draperies fall,
Now quivering in thy presence to appear,
Now motionless for deep amazement's thrall,
With rapturous thrills through my astonished heart
To see thee what thou so sublimely art!
While mute I stood where yonder draperies fall,
Now quivering in thy presence to appear,
Now motionless for deep amazement's thrall,
With rapturous thrills through my astonished heart
To see thee what thou so sublimely art!
“Ah, let my voice cry out, avowing all!
Let me say fearlessly: ‘I love, I love!’
Till memory, made obedient to my call,
Comes phantom-footed at the sound thereof,
And lending thee one soft hand, one to me,
Goes down with us to where her dead years be!
Let me say fearlessly: ‘I love, I love!’
Till memory, made obedient to my call,
Comes phantom-footed at the sound thereof,
And lending thee one soft hand, one to me,
Goes down with us to where her dead years be!
42
“Art thou still mindful of the looks that met
So oft yet transiently in other days,
Or of the sweet song thou didst rashly set
Where I should ramble near it and should raise?
Yet couldst not thou, by vague and tender sign,
Judge of my spirit what I judged of thine?
So oft yet transiently in other days,
Or of the sweet song thou didst rashly set
Where I should ramble near it and should raise?
Yet couldst not thou, by vague and tender sign,
Judge of my spirit what I judged of thine?
“Knowing thee not, I knew thee! Having heard
Never thy voice, familiar seemed its tone!
Untold of how thy heart was ruled or stirred,
Its lightest fear or fancy was mine own!
And powerless of thy love's depth even to guess,
For surety I believed it fathomless!
Never thy voice, familiar seemed its tone!
Untold of how thy heart was ruled or stirred,
Its lightest fear or fancy was mine own!
And powerless of thy love's depth even to guess,
For surety I believed it fathomless!
“And when, the palace through, thy wistful face
In places where I passed was found no more,
I thought thee gone aloof to some still place
And desolate, thy dark lot to deplore;
But of thy grief I did not dare believe,
Strong soul, how grandly thou hadst gone to grieve!” ...
In places where I passed was found no more,
I thought thee gone aloof to some still place
And desolate, thy dark lot to deplore;
But of thy grief I did not dare believe,
Strong soul, how grandly thou hadst gone to grieve!” ...
Then, ere the ending word of what she said,
His arms had clasped her in impetuous way,
And two that loved were never lovelier wed
By passionate human meeting than were they,
Whom now at last cold fate could no more part,—
Lips touching lips and heart laid warm to heart!
His arms had clasped her in impetuous way,
And two that loved were never lovelier wed
By passionate human meeting than were they,
Whom now at last cold fate could no more part,—
Lips touching lips and heart laid warm to heart!
43
Nor many a day had passed before the King
Gave with high pomp of nuptials his fair child
To him on whom, for great accomplishing
Through soilless worth of life, the people smiled,
And whose weird tale of quest from ear to ear
Had flown with wondering comments far and near.
Gave with high pomp of nuptials his fair child
To him on whom, for great accomplishing
Through soilless worth of life, the people smiled,
And whose weird tale of quest from ear to ear
Had flown with wondering comments far and near.
And when at last the unsparing hand of death
Bowed to his final sleep the monarch's head,
They reigned upon whose blended names no breath
Calumnious or unkind was ever shed;
And always while they reigned the Flower staid bright,
Starring the crown with its keen peerless light!
Bowed to his final sleep the monarch's head,
They reigned upon whose blended names no breath
Calumnious or unkind was ever shed;
And always while they reigned the Flower staid bright,
Starring the crown with its keen peerless light!
But when that fateful term the years allot
Befell this other King, mourned wide and well,
His wondrous Flower mysteriously was not,
Vanished to nothing, as the old records tell ...
Nor has its radiance once been seen since then
Through all new centuries by all mortal men!
Befell this other King, mourned wide and well,
His wondrous Flower mysteriously was not,
Vanished to nothing, as the old records tell ...
Nor has its radiance once been seen since then
Through all new centuries by all mortal men!
| Romance and revery | |