The collected poems of Arthur Edward Waite :: :: University of Virginia Library

No eye but mine is on the shifting waste,
As poised upon this steep cliff's utmost rim
I watch the world of waters. Many times
Have I thank'd God for that most perfect line
Wherewith the still sky rings the restless deep—
For passing ships; for tides which come and go;
For cultivated fields—with ample curves
Sloping and sweeping shoreward; for the glare
Day long on rough white chalk; for silent caves;
For shelter'd coves and shallows known to few;
For waste and lonely places unenclosed,
Which ocean peoples with a thousand voices.
But now my soul is moved by deeper thoughts:
One face transmuted in a light of mind
Is o'er the shadow'd prospects of my life
Exalted sacredly, like Dian's horn,
When—out of mists, from mead and marsh escaping—
She soars and finds the zenith.

Israfel,
That face is thine. I stand and think of thee,
Till thought evokes thine image: it is poised
In glory above these waters. To the sky
Thy face is turn'd, thy holy hands are clasp'd,
The light wind gently lifts and floats thy hair.
White vestures also by the wind are trail'd
A yard behind thee; subtle haze of light
Surrounds thy body; and its waist is girdled
With white and fragrant lilies ... I have clothed
A human form in dreams with angel-hood,
And evermore a spirit in my heart
It dwells. Transfigur'd, thou hast pass'd from earth

285

Into a world of emblems, and therein
The stature of immortal life is thine.
Exempt from passion, weakness, pain and change,
Dost thou live ever a reserved, remote,
Translated life. And having lifted thee
Above this world's modalities, meseems
That this most blessed vision—beyond all thought
By my dream fashion'd—is most truly thou.
It was thy human nature prompted it:
The meekness, modesty and grace thereof
Have nourish'd and enhanced it. Thou alone
Didst prompt the vision, and all light thereof
Is shrined in thee. That manifested life,
Before earth-eyes presented, has reveal'd
An inner self which more than fleshly form
Is thine, is thou.

Thou art not yet perchance
In full fruition of that nobler part,
For in these daily ways the man divine
Holds chiefly from the lesser self aloof;
Some beams shine o'er it and in warmth does love
Descend thereon, to link the flesh therewith;
But perfect union of the twain on earth
Is compass'd rarely. When the heart is cleansed,
The heart draws toward it; when mere life of sense
Sinks down subdued and unimpeded mind
In conquest towers, then mind and vesture both
Abide transfigured in the light thereof,
For flesh when order'd well can also shine.
Thou in such light art dwelling, and thy face
Has—like a mirror—to my inward eyes
Reveal'd the nobler self: I see thy god.
I see thee stately, stedfast, pure of heart,
While earth-born natures—with the meaner man
And mundane things contented—have so far
From true self lapsed that no ray enters in
To beautify the temple's outer courts,

286

Which never therefore to pellucid sight
Reveal the brilliant spectrum of that high,
Undying part.

I stand beside the sea:
Waves swell, wind rises, falls an autumn night;
And as that moon doth, when the darkness deepens,
Her own face brighten more, thy face grows fairer
Amidst the inward darkness of the world.
Thy nature alters, towards the self supreme
Ascending daily; and mine own shines also—
With thy great love suffused, by a most strong,
Immortal love of thee suffused, transform'd.
I look to see thee, in the world beyond,
With God made one for ever in thy soul:
May I with God be one by love for thee;
May this wide sea denote what fills with strength,
The orb'd moon witness that which cheers and leads,
Descending night portray the veils that hide
All paths henceforth but those which lead to heights
Untravell'd! May it hide all tarnish'd love,
To perfect state exalting love for thee!
May that my spirit sanctify and seal,
And—for thy love—may I the world itself
By mine own labours seal and sanctify,
Then make the guerdon of that sacred task
One new star shining in thy crown of life—
My saint, my light, my symbol, Israfel!