 | Under the dawn |  |
104
THE PLANET'S BOAT-SONG.
As I lay beneath the shining of the moon
On a pleasant night in August, I was 'ware
Of the surging of our planet and its tune
As it climbs on brazen pinions through the air,
And its resonance became a poem soon,
Which my recollection struggles to declare,
Gathering up the golden fragments of my swoon,
In its pristine sweet entirety firm and fair.
On a pleasant night in August, I was 'ware
Of the surging of our planet and its tune
As it climbs on brazen pinions through the air,
And its resonance became a poem soon,
Which my recollection struggles to declare,
Gathering up the golden fragments of my swoon,
In its pristine sweet entirety firm and fair.
“I am climbing,” said the planet, “through broad space,
And I see the oceans beating on their way
In a blue, tumultuous, never-ending race,
And I mark the crimson jubilance of day,
And the corn-fields waving in their golden grace,
And the monstrous heaped-up thunders, black and grey,
And the little sons of men, each in his place,
At their battles, and their labour, and their play.
And I see the oceans beating on their way
In a blue, tumultuous, never-ending race,
And I mark the crimson jubilance of day,
And the corn-fields waving in their golden grace,
And the monstrous heaped-up thunders, black and grey,
And the little sons of men, each in his place,
At their battles, and their labour, and their play.
105
“As I fly through tumid oceans of black cloud,
Like a boat through black, swift, vibratory seas,
Immersing my vast body in a shroud—
Like a coffin unbedecked by flowers—of these,
And the nimbus-cohorts by my keel are ploughed,
And the copper-coloured squadrons by my knees,
A sailing chant at my vast lips is loud,
Ye may mark it, ye may learn it, if ye please.
Like a boat through black, swift, vibratory seas,
Immersing my vast body in a shroud—
Like a coffin unbedecked by flowers—of these,
And the nimbus-cohorts by my keel are ploughed,
And the copper-coloured squadrons by my knees,
A sailing chant at my vast lips is loud,
Ye may mark it, ye may learn it, if ye please.
“All the neighbouring friendly planets in my song
I shake hands with, and I greet and recognize,
Even as arm in arm our clusters stroll along
The parade-ground and the vistas of the skies,
Gold-haired Venus, Mars the vehement and strong,
And the Great Bear, cunning, silver-toothed, and wise;
Many others in a swift red-footed throng
Round the spray of my fast progress gleam and rise.
I shake hands with, and I greet and recognize,
Even as arm in arm our clusters stroll along
The parade-ground and the vistas of the skies,
Gold-haired Venus, Mars the vehement and strong,
And the Great Bear, cunning, silver-toothed, and wise;
Many others in a swift red-footed throng
Round the spray of my fast progress gleam and rise.
“Spinning through this blatant series of gold balls
I can mark their varied surfaces of life,
And their various temples, monuments, and halls,
While I rend the swift air as with edge of knife,
Nor is there any lover's voice that calls
To his mistress, or a cannon-shout of strife,
But its whisper, or its thunderous message, falls
On my ears, with wondrous drums of hearing rife.
I can mark their varied surfaces of life,
And their various temples, monuments, and halls,
While I rend the swift air as with edge of knife,
Nor is there any lover's voice that calls
To his mistress, or a cannon-shout of strife,
But its whisper, or its thunderous message, falls
On my ears, with wondrous drums of hearing rife.
106
“I can pierce the purple heather on the hills,
I can enter crystal palaces of seas,
And sweet fountains which a sweeter presence fills,
Even mermaids with their snowy arms and knees,
I can fathom the deep secrets of deep rills—
For creation is as open as I please,
And the general energetic whisper thrills
All my spirit, as the thyme-scent maddens bees.
I can enter crystal palaces of seas,
And sweet fountains which a sweeter presence fills,
Even mermaids with their snowy arms and knees,
I can fathom the deep secrets of deep rills—
For creation is as open as I please,
And the general energetic whisper thrills
All my spirit, as the thyme-scent maddens bees.
“All the battles and the tumults of the earth
Are a festival, a proper part of me,
Yea, a portion of my green surpassing girth,
And rich feeders of my deep tempestuous sea,
Bringing roses and anemones to birth,
And white lilies and such timid things to be,
And originating red-lipped maidens' mirth
Out of horror and fierce strokes and agony.
Are a festival, a proper part of me,
Yea, a portion of my green surpassing girth,
And rich feeders of my deep tempestuous sea,
Bringing roses and anemones to birth,
And white lilies and such timid things to be,
And originating red-lipped maidens' mirth
Out of horror and fierce strokes and agony.
“What if one man perish? Truly, let him fall!
Are there not ten thousand others just as good,
Whom ten thousand girls expect in tower and hall,
And ten thousand mothers watch on hill and wood—
Twenty thousand valiant hearts on which to call,
Where one cowardly soul has withered, having stood
As a coward upon my brave progressive ball,
Where each dweller has made progress as he could?
Are there not ten thousand others just as good,
Whom ten thousand girls expect in tower and hall,
And ten thousand mothers watch on hill and wood—
Twenty thousand valiant hearts on which to call,
Where one cowardly soul has withered, having stood
As a coward upon my brave progressive ball,
Where each dweller has made progress as he could?
107
“By the underlying attitude of things,
Which the seekers and the singers dub sublime,
Every bird by brave necessity hath wings,
Every mountain-goat strong feet wherewith to climb,
Every poet talent by the which he sings
And creative force well fitted unto rhyme,
Even as I myself disperse the airy rings
By my pinions to a right melodious time.
Which the seekers and the singers dub sublime,
Every bird by brave necessity hath wings,
Every mountain-goat strong feet wherewith to climb,
Every poet talent by the which he sings
And creative force well fitted unto rhyme,
Even as I myself disperse the airy rings
By my pinions to a right melodious time.
“Let a man be wicked, sinner, if he may—
He but feeds the stalwart universal plan,
He but feeds its greatening course from day to day,
He but feeds it as his cringing spirit can,
Built of stubble and of pewter-stuff and clay—
Let a man strive as a hero in the van,
He but serves the great progression to obey,
With the spirit and the purpose of a man.
He but feeds the stalwart universal plan,
He but feeds its greatening course from day to day,
He but feeds it as his cringing spirit can,
Built of stubble and of pewter-stuff and clay—
Let a man strive as a hero in the van,
He but serves the great progression to obey,
With the spirit and the purpose of a man.
“Not a soul shall be sufficient to retard
The great passion of the seasons, as they roll
Through the wintry barriers, iced and mute and hard,
Towards fair summer seasons where fair lovers stroll
Through each forest, and in every city-yard,
For the wings of Time are excellent and whole,
And no power of human effort hath debarred
Their supreme effulgent course, beyond control.
The great passion of the seasons, as they roll
Through the wintry barriers, iced and mute and hard,
Towards fair summer seasons where fair lovers stroll
Through each forest, and in every city-yard,
For the wings of Time are excellent and whole,
And no power of human effort hath debarred
Their supreme effulgent course, beyond control.
108
“From my high, exalted eyrie I look down,
And I see the blood-stained terror and the sins
That contaminate each hill and lake and town,
But I also see the goal the future wins,
And Earth's future clear and unpolluted crown,
When the clearer reign of Excellence begins,
And things sweet and pure and tender wear renown:
Towards this consummation every planet spins.
And I see the blood-stained terror and the sins
That contaminate each hill and lake and town,
But I also see the goal the future wins,
And Earth's future clear and unpolluted crown,
When the clearer reign of Excellence begins,
And things sweet and pure and tender wear renown:
Towards this consummation every planet spins.
“When the rivers of the Earth shall run no more
Foully mixed with signs of foul decay and mud,
And the silver waves shall beat on Virtue's shore,
And the streams shall not be coloured as with blood,
And the silver fountains as with human gore,
But the waters shall be one delicious flood,
Sweeter, purer, and more crystal than of yore,
Bearing pearls and precious jewels in the bud.
Foully mixed with signs of foul decay and mud,
And the silver waves shall beat on Virtue's shore,
And the streams shall not be coloured as with blood,
And the silver fountains as with human gore,
But the waters shall be one delicious flood,
Sweeter, purer, and more crystal than of yore,
Bearing pearls and precious jewels in the bud.
“Let a man by power endeavour to withstand
The necessity that beareth Time's slow song
Towards the future, glad, voluptuous, sinless strand,
And it is as if he strove against the strong
Waves that slowly eat the slowly sinking land,
With their billows fierce and iron-tongued and long,
Climbing onward in a fierce and clamorous band;
Even such is the sure overthrow of wrong.”
The necessity that beareth Time's slow song
Towards the future, glad, voluptuous, sinless strand,
And it is as if he strove against the strong
Waves that slowly eat the slowly sinking land,
With their billows fierce and iron-tongued and long,
Climbing onward in a fierce and clamorous band;
Even such is the sure overthrow of wrong.”
| Under the dawn | |