 | Firdausi in Exile and Other Poems |  |
173
PALINGENESIS.
I was fashioned long ago
In an element of snow,
And a white pair of cold wings
Bore me towards sublunar things;
Over thought's immense dominions,
Floating on those chilly pinions,
Long I wandered, faint and thin
As a leaf the wind may spin,
And the tossing flashing sea
Moaned and whispered under me,
And the mountains of man's mind
Threw short shadows far behind,
And the rivers of the soul
That still thunder as they roll,
At my cold height streamed and fled
Silent as a glacier-bed.
In an element of snow,
And a white pair of cold wings
Bore me towards sublunar things;
Over thought's immense dominions,
Floating on those chilly pinions,
Long I wandered, faint and thin
As a leaf the wind may spin,
And the tossing flashing sea
Moaned and whispered under me,
And the mountains of man's mind
Threw short shadows far behind,
And the rivers of the soul
That still thunder as they roll,
At my cold height streamed and fled
Silent as a glacier-bed.
174
I was light and gay and bold,
Bathing in the sunset's gold,
Though my forehead's only flush
Came from the aurora's rush,
And my white wrists held on high
Showed no blue veins coursing by.
Through the world a dream I went,
Swathed in a frozen element,
Watching with a temperate breath
All the masque of birth and death,
Pleased to mark around, below,
The currents of emotion flow,
Pleased in my insane conceit
That I had no heart to beat.
Bathing in the sunset's gold,
Though my forehead's only flush
Came from the aurora's rush,
And my white wrists held on high
Showed no blue veins coursing by.
Through the world a dream I went,
Swathed in a frozen element,
Watching with a temperate breath
All the masque of birth and death,
Pleased to mark around, below,
The currents of emotion flow,
Pleased in my insane conceit
That I had no heart to beat.
But, one morning, as I flew
Higher in the vault of blue,
On a storm's eccentric curve
All my flight began to swerve.
Ah! my crystal limbs expire
In this new domain of fire!
Ah! my dædal wings must scorch
In this vast aërial torch,
And my fairy garments made
Of the frost's breath, all will fade!
Higher in the vault of blue,
On a storm's eccentric curve
All my flight began to swerve.
Ah! my crystal limbs expire
175
Ah! my dædal wings must scorch
In this vast aërial torch,
And my fairy garments made
Of the frost's breath, all will fade!
Shrieking in a robe of pain,
Darkness fell upon my brain.
When I wakened, far away
In a still green dell I lay,
Shivering, naked; warm within
What was this I heard begin
Throbbing, pulsing, like the sound
Of a hammer underground?
Then I caught a voice, repeating,
“'Tis thy new-born heart that's beating.”
Darkness fell upon my brain.
When I wakened, far away
In a still green dell I lay,
Shivering, naked; warm within
What was this I heard begin
Throbbing, pulsing, like the sound
Of a hammer underground?
Then I caught a voice, repeating,
“'Tis thy new-born heart that's beating.”
Since that day I have not flown
O'er the radiant world alone:
I am all content to follow
Love round this one mountain-hollow;
Weak I am, and flushed with feeling
Tender hopes around me stealing;
Tears between my eyelids creep,
And I waken still to weep:
Often as I walk along
I am agonised with song,
Thoughts of one belovèd form
Lash me like a sudden storm,
And for days I travel wholly
Muffled up in melancholy.
O'er the radiant world alone:
I am all content to follow
176
Weak I am, and flushed with feeling
Tender hopes around me stealing;
Tears between my eyelids creep,
And I waken still to weep:
Often as I walk along
I am agonised with song,
Thoughts of one belovèd form
Lash me like a sudden storm,
And for days I travel wholly
Muffled up in melancholy.
Yet for all this weary pain
I would not be calm again,
Yield the warmth and flush and riot
For my earlier crystal quiet,
Or this burning flesh resign
For those wings and robes of mine;
Having tasted Life and Breath
And the bitter Fear of Death,
Who could any more endure
That chill æther rare and pure?
Having known the ache of loving,
And the warm veins' stir and moving,
And the yearning hopes that start,
Who would live without a heart?
I would not be calm again,
Yield the warmth and flush and riot
For my earlier crystal quiet,
Or this burning flesh resign
For those wings and robes of mine;
Having tasted Life and Breath
And the bitter Fear of Death,
177
That chill æther rare and pure?
Having known the ache of loving,
And the warm veins' stir and moving,
And the yearning hopes that start,
Who would live without a heart?
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