 | Poems: Second Series |  |
186
SONNETS TO AN IMAGINARY BEING.
Ah, me! my love, I was afraid to love you
In those old days when you might yet be won,
For you were golden as the sun above you,
And I too blind to look upon the sun.
Forgive me, dearest, that my love was weak
As callow eaglet in the sight of you,
Its fluttering feathers yet untrained to seek
The midday spaces of ethereal blue.
Forgive me, dearest, that my heart's desire
Was yet enthralled to false humility:
Time teaches me that worship should aspire,
That Love's true bondsman should be proudly free.
Time gives me eagle wings: Time makes me bold
To face the noonday's depths of molten gold.
In those old days when you might yet be won,
For you were golden as the sun above you,
And I too blind to look upon the sun.
Forgive me, dearest, that my love was weak
As callow eaglet in the sight of you,
Its fluttering feathers yet untrained to seek
The midday spaces of ethereal blue.
Forgive me, dearest, that my heart's desire
Was yet enthralled to false humility:
Time teaches me that worship should aspire,
That Love's true bondsman should be proudly free.
Time gives me eagle wings: Time makes me bold
To face the noonday's depths of molten gold.
Far hence in depths of cliff-girt solitude—
In icy gorges unexplored of man—
My heart-springs are eternally renewed,
For there the river of my love began.
Far hence: no whirling waters, free as air,
Thundered in chasm or flashed from precipice,
But frozen billows—torrents of despair—
Rolled down the gorge their cataract of ice:
Until the smile of you, my summer sun,
Melted to tears the winter of their sleep,
And straight the fettered waves, their freedom won,
Rushed into life and sprang from steep to steep—
Leaping the cliffs in sheets of fitful spray,
Rending the rocks that rose to bar their way.
In icy gorges unexplored of man—
My heart-springs are eternally renewed,
For there the river of my love began.
187
Thundered in chasm or flashed from precipice,
But frozen billows—torrents of despair—
Rolled down the gorge their cataract of ice:
Until the smile of you, my summer sun,
Melted to tears the winter of their sleep,
And straight the fettered waves, their freedom won,
Rushed into life and sprang from steep to steep—
Leaping the cliffs in sheets of fitful spray,
Rending the rocks that rose to bar their way.
But once the eager torrent leaped from sight
Into a yawning chasm as deep as Hell,
And never ceasing mists of flashing white
Rose up in smoke of thunder as it fell.
And in that infinite abyss of foam
The river vanished, and was seen no more,
And I half feared that it had found its home
In Stygian darkness of some nether shore.
Till your sweet sunshine wove the mists of spray
Into a rainbow beautiful as hope,
And by the guidance of its sudden ray
I saw below the vanished waters grope
Their blinded course—bewildered by the shock—
Through dungeon walls of overarching rock.
Into a yawning chasm as deep as Hell,
And never ceasing mists of flashing white
Rose up in smoke of thunder as it fell.
And in that infinite abyss of foam
The river vanished, and was seen no more,
And I half feared that it had found its home
In Stygian darkness of some nether shore.
Till your sweet sunshine wove the mists of spray
Into a rainbow beautiful as hope,
And by the guidance of its sudden ray
I saw below the vanished waters grope
Their blinded course—bewildered by the shock—
Through dungeon walls of overarching rock.
| Poems: Second Series | |