The poems of Madison Cawein | ||
131
THE BEAUTIFUL
I
Of moires of placid glitterThe moon is knitter,
Under dark trees, whose branches
The blue night blanches:
Upon yon stream's swift arrow
Lights lie, as narrow
As is the glance of some pale sorceress,
Spell-haunted, watching in a wilderness.
And I, who, dreaming, wander,
Seem to behold her yonder,
My beautiful dream, my bodiless loveliness.
II
Upon this water's glimmerWhite sheets of shimmer
Glow outward, as if inner
Sea-castles,—thinner
Than peeléd pearl,—through curlings
And water whirlings,
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The smoldering silver of an inward fire.—
Perhaps her towers, enchanted,
Are there; on mountains planted
Of crystal:—hers! the soul of my desire!
III
Or there above the beeches,On terraced reaches
Of rolling roses, towered
And moonbeam-bowered,
Is it her palace airy?—
Or dream of Fairy?—
Piled, full of melody and marble-white,
Its pointed casements lit with piercing light:
Wherein, all veiled and hidden,
She waits,—who long hath bidden
Me come to her,—her accoladed knight?
IV
The blue night's sweetness settles—Like hyacinth petals,
Bowed by their weight of rain-drops—
Around me: pain drops
From off my heart, the sadness
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Of beauty turns, that was not born to die;
That whispers in my soul and tells me why
I, too, was born—to render
Her worship: feel her splendor
Expand me like a rose beneath God's eye.
The poems of Madison Cawein | ||