The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite in two volumes ... With a Portrait |
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 | The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite |  |
II
There shall be no more sea, they say,
On Nature's great coronation day,
When the Bridegroom comes to the Bride.
Shall earth then lose her sacraments of tide—
Motion, measures tremendous, echoing far and long—
Glister, sparkle and glow, ring of an endless song?
O words prophetic, ye princes and priests attend;
This is the Quest's end promised, the marvellous end
Of all our voyage and venture since time began.
To the Quest for ever the sea's voice calleth man;
And this in a mystery-world, by only the side-light broken—
That a Quest there is and an end—is the single secret spoken
All over that vibrant main:
Of the Quest for ever it tells, of the ends and dooms to gain.
On Nature's great coronation day,
When the Bridegroom comes to the Bride.
Shall earth then lose her sacraments of tide—
Motion, measures tremendous, echoing far and long—
Glister, sparkle and glow, ring of an endless song?
O words prophetic, ye princes and priests attend;
This is the Quest's end promised, the marvellous end
Of all our voyage and venture since time began.
To the Quest for ever the sea's voice calleth man;
And this in a mystery-world, by only the side-light broken—
That a Quest there is and an end—is the single secret spoken
All over that vibrant main:
Of the Quest for ever it tells, of the ends and dooms to gain.
I rise in the half-light early, I vest myself in haste;
I pass over highway and byway, the fielded land and the waste;
As much as a man may prosper, all eager I climb and go down,
For this day surely meseems that the Quest may receive a crown.
To and fro in the search I hurry, and some men bid me narrate
What means this fever, and why so eager, and whether their help I wait;
Not as yet they know of the Quest, although they are questing early and late.
And others, my brothers, the same great end pursuing,
Stop me and ask, What news? Fellow Craft, is there anything doing?
Is there light in the East anywhere, some sign set forth in a star,
Or a louder watchword utter'd from over the harbour bar?
And above the light swift music of all its fleeting joys
The world spreads daily through length and breadth, the great Quest's rumour and noise.
Who sought it first, who longest, and who has attain'd almost?
All this in town and in village its heralds proclaim and post;
But the sun goes down and the night comes on for a space to quench endeavour,
While star after star through the spaces far shew the track of the Quest for ever!
I pass over highway and byway, the fielded land and the waste;
As much as a man may prosper, all eager I climb and go down,
For this day surely meseems that the Quest may receive a crown.
131
What means this fever, and why so eager, and whether their help I wait;
Not as yet they know of the Quest, although they are questing early and late.
And others, my brothers, the same great end pursuing,
Stop me and ask, What news? Fellow Craft, is there anything doing?
Is there light in the East anywhere, some sign set forth in a star,
Or a louder watchword utter'd from over the harbour bar?
And above the light swift music of all its fleeting joys
The world spreads daily through length and breadth, the great Quest's rumour and noise.
Who sought it first, who longest, and who has attain'd almost?
All this in town and in village its heralds proclaim and post;
But the sun goes down and the night comes on for a space to quench endeavour,
While star after star through the spaces far shew the track of the Quest for ever!
| The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | |