Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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A SONG OF GRAMARYE. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
A SONG OF GRAMARYE.
This is a song of Gramarye—
The summer moon
At full and yellow, and mild and mellow,
Was sailing through a thunder sky
For setting soon;
Its pilgrim light,
More lovely on the edge of sinking
With its round cup was sweetly drinking
The glory of the purple air
With deep delight,
And waxing still more fresh and fair
In measured flight;
The riven mass of driven cloud
Spread awful wings that fain would fly,
And spoke in murmurs but not loud—
This is a song of Gramarye.
The summer moon
At full and yellow, and mild and mellow,
Was sailing through a thunder sky
For setting soon;
Its pilgrim light,
More lovely on the edge of sinking
With its round cup was sweetly drinking
The glory of the purple air
With deep delight,
And waxing still more fresh and fair
In measured flight;
The riven mass of driven cloud
Spread awful wings that fain would fly,
And spoke in murmurs but not loud—
This is a song of Gramarye.
This is a song of Gramarye—
A baby boy,
All nude and weeping, alone was keeping
His watch with old eternity,
And asked a toy;
Upon the sand
He wandered up and down untiring
With eager step, and still desiring
One plaything which he could not get
In dimpled hand,
With hungry glances wild and wet
For his demand;
And straining for the waning lamp
Whose distance mocked his troubled cry,
His rosy feet would fret and stamp—
This is a song of Gramarye.
A baby boy,
All nude and weeping, alone was keeping
His watch with old eternity,
And asked a toy;
Upon the sand
He wandered up and down untiring
With eager step, and still desiring
One plaything which he could not get
In dimpled hand,
52
For his demand;
And straining for the waning lamp
Whose distance mocked his troubled cry,
His rosy feet would fret and stamp—
This is a song of Gramarye.
This is a song of Gramarye—
The yellow moon
With magic gesture threw off the vesture
Of gold, and far infinity
Its dreadful boon;
With sudden gleam,
The rapture of a white rose maiden
Brake from the glamour overladen
And bursting into silver flower
Upon a beam
Descended, pouring in bright power
A starry stream;
And lifting through the rifting gloom,
The naked joy that flitted by,
She gathered him to her own bloom—
This is a song of Gramarye.
The yellow moon
With magic gesture threw off the vesture
Of gold, and far infinity
Its dreadful boon;
With sudden gleam,
The rapture of a white rose maiden
Brake from the glamour overladen
And bursting into silver flower
Upon a beam
Descended, pouring in bright power
A starry stream;
And lifting through the rifting gloom,
The naked joy that flitted by,
She gathered him to her own bloom—
This is a song of Gramarye.
This is a song of Gramarye—
The heaven came down,
To make a pillow for the billow
And wrought it rich exceedingly
For godhead's crown;
On sea and shore,
Behold, the earth not now sad-hearted
Walked with the sky, and space departed
With all the terrors of the deep,
Estranged no more,
And dazzling noon and night and sleep
Held common store;
The nations in creation's dew
Put off their dull mortality,
And ran their courses glad and new—
This is a song of Gramarye.
The heaven came down,
To make a pillow for the billow
And wrought it rich exceedingly
For godhead's crown;
On sea and shore,
Behold, the earth not now sad-hearted
Walked with the sky, and space departed
With all the terrors of the deep,
Estranged no more,
And dazzling noon and night and sleep
Held common store;
The nations in creation's dew
Put off their dull mortality,
And ran their courses glad and new—
This is a song of Gramarye.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |