The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite in two volumes ... With a Portrait |
 |
|
|
| I. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| II. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
A ROVER'S HYMN |
|
| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| II. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
 | The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite |  |
A ROVER'S HYMN
Once I wish'd a thousand things,
Thoughts that soar on eagle wings
Follow'd in their soaring;
Now the soul-flights rarely rise
Further than thy dear grey eyes—
There my fervours pouring.
Thoughts that soar on eagle wings
Follow'd in their soaring;
Now the soul-flights rarely rise
Further than thy dear grey eyes—
There my fervours pouring.
246
Oft in midnights lone and still
Fancy fleeted far at will
Through the starry spaces;
Now it dreams, both day and night,
Round about one only light,
Shining where thy grace is.
Fancy fleeted far at will
Through the starry spaces;
Now it dreams, both day and night,
Round about one only light,
Shining where thy grace is.
O for darksome forest haunts,
And—for him no danger daunts,—
Wilds and wildernesses!
Open seas, to sail far over,
Dizzy peaks, to draw the rover,
Draped in gleaming dresses!
And—for him no danger daunts,—
Wilds and wildernesses!
Open seas, to sail far over,
Dizzy peaks, to draw the rover,
Draped in gleaming dresses!
O to dare both height and deep,
Where the Kraken lies asleep,
Where the last star quivers,
Where the message of existence—
Through the darkness and the distance—
Life to void delivers!
Where the Kraken lies asleep,
Where the last star quivers,
Where the message of existence—
Through the darkness and the distance—
Life to void delivers!
Then beyond all space and time,
Far transcending speech or rhyme,
Out of thought's dimension,
That one midmost point to win
Which all secrets centre in,
By a soul-ascension.
Far transcending speech or rhyme,
Out of thought's dimension,
That one midmost point to win
Which all secrets centre in,
By a soul-ascension.
May God's mercy grant me these—
Nature's “primal sanities”
And high Truth's unfolding!
In such dreams my life exhaled,
Till thy tender form unveil'd
Unto my beholding.
Nature's “primal sanities”
And high Truth's unfolding!
In such dreams my life exhaled,
Till thy tender form unveil'd
Unto my beholding.
247
Then the light of rose and gold
Gather'd up from vale and wold,
From the sky descended,
Drifted off the open sea,
Came and draped thy symmetry
In a garment splendid.
Gather'd up from vale and wold,
From the sky descended,
Drifted off the open sea,
Came and draped thy symmetry
In a garment splendid.
All the beauty named by truth,
In thy tender human youth
Visibly inhering,
Breaks the ancient spells investing
Speculation's fields of questing,
At its first appearing.
In thy tender human youth
Visibly inhering,
Breaks the ancient spells investing
Speculation's fields of questing,
At its first appearing.
Melody of merle in copse,
Mavis in the poplar tops,
Lark at morning's gateway—
How thy laughter's silver lightness
Robs the bird-world of its brightness,
And absorbs it straightway!
Mavis in the poplar tops,
Lark at morning's gateway—
How thy laughter's silver lightness
Robs the bird-world of its brightness,
And absorbs it straightway!
Now the sunset lights may kindle,
Now the mild moon wax and dwindle,
Voice of winds keep calling,
While the Alpine hills point o'er me,
While the long paths wind before me,
Falling, rising, falling.
Now the mild moon wax and dwindle,
Voice of winds keep calling,
While the Alpine hills point o'er me,
While the long paths wind before me,
Falling, rising, falling.
But for me one dream is o'er—
Through the outer world no more
Roving and exploring;
Past the beauty of thy face
Do I look to greet Christ's grace,
In love daily soaring.
Through the outer world no more
Roving and exploring;
Past the beauty of thy face
Do I look to greet Christ's grace,
In love daily soaring.
248
Has the rover lost or gain'd?
Has the thinker, tax'd and strain'd,
Balancing and proving,
Lost the vista, lost the vision,
Sinking all the sense of mission
In the sense of loving?
Has the thinker, tax'd and strain'd,
Balancing and proving,
Lost the vista, lost the vision,
Sinking all the sense of mission
In the sense of loving?
Nay, thou art an open sea,
And a green world fair and free
Meet for love's emprising;
In the depths of thy grey eyes
Brood a thousand mysteries
Souls may sink or rise in.
And a green world fair and free
Meet for love's emprising;
In the depths of thy grey eyes
Brood a thousand mysteries
Souls may sink or rise in.
So, with mystic love my guide
In thy sacred nature's wide
Magian world I enter;
There the ravish'd thinker wanders;
Ever there the rover ponders
Voyaging and venture.
In thy sacred nature's wide
Magian world I enter;
There the ravish'd thinker wanders;
Ever there the rover ponders
Voyaging and venture.
| The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite | |