Minuscula Lyrics of Nature, Art and Love. By Francis William Bourdillon |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | III. | Part III
Man's Love |
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| IV. |
 | Minuscula |  |
53
III. Part III
Man's Love
54
55
In Inferno Sustulit Oculos
You—and I did not know!—
Were in the world with me!
And nothing between us there
But land and sea!
Were in the world with me!
And nothing between us there
But land and sea!
I played at love with women,
I played at labour with men;
You—and I did not know!—
Were there all then.
I played at labour with men;
You—and I did not know!—
Were there all then.
Nothing of Heaven seemed certain,
Nothing of Earth sublime;
You—and I did not know!—
There all the time.
Nothing of Earth sublime;
You—and I did not know!—
There all the time.
You, with the angel wings,
Who walk in heavenly light,
Whom the Great Gulf keeps from me
In the fiery night.
Who walk in heavenly light,
Whom the Great Gulf keeps from me
In the fiery night.
56
In Exitu Amoris
Never a love to be loved again,
Long as I live, by me!
What, if I drag awhile the chain?
It is broken, and I am free.
Long as I live, by me!
What, if I drag awhile the chain?
It is broken, and I am free.
Never a song to be sung again,
When the woodland thrills with song,
And the primrose lightens the darkening lane
As the April days grow long!
When the woodland thrills with song,
And the primrose lightens the darkening lane
As the April days grow long!
Never a dream to be dreamed again,
When music softly plays,
And the soul breaks free from the tyrannous brain,
And wanders in starry ways!
When music softly plays,
And the soul breaks free from the tyrannous brain,
And wanders in starry ways!
Never a heart to be hot again,
Or a soul with itself at war!
Never a smile to be Heaven to gain,
Or a face to be hungered for!
Or a soul with itself at war!
Never a smile to be Heaven to gain,
Or a face to be hungered for!
57
Cynthia
When she arose, as the maid-moon rises,
Hallowing the darkened air,
A thousand silver and gold surprises
Sprang round her everywhere.
Hallowing the darkened air,
A thousand silver and gold surprises
Sprang round her everywhere.
The old worn world was a new strange world,
Wonder and joy were there;
And my heart like a late-born flower unfurled
That never had hope to be fair.
Wonder and joy were there;
And my heart like a late-born flower unfurled
That never had hope to be fair.
58
A Song of Farewell
Fade, vision bright!
What clinging hands can stay thee?
Die, dream of light!
What clasping hands can pray thee?
Farewell, delight!
I have no more to say thee.
What clinging hands can stay thee?
Die, dream of light!
What clasping hands can pray thee?
Farewell, delight!
I have no more to say thee.
The gold was gold,
The little while it lasted;
The dream was true,
Although its joy be blasted;
That hour was mine,
Although so swift it hasted.
The little while it lasted;
The dream was true,
Although its joy be blasted;
That hour was mine,
Although so swift it hasted.
59
A Love-Song
I have no armour 'gainst thine eyes,
When thou dost smile on me;
Mine ears they are not enow wise
To shut their doors to thee,
When, like the morn-arousing thrush,
Thou callest out of love's long hush.
When thou dost smile on me;
Mine ears they are not enow wise
To shut their doors to thee,
When, like the morn-arousing thrush,
Thou callest out of love's long hush.
The rain that from the sea arose,
A vapour rare and free,
By clouds and springs and rivers goes
Resistless to the sea.
And from the heart, hands, eyes of me
Love born of thee draws back to thee.
A vapour rare and free,
By clouds and springs and rivers goes
Resistless to the sea.
And from the heart, hands, eyes of me
Love born of thee draws back to thee.
60
Omens and Dreams
There was a moaning in earth and air
The day we parted,
And a wind went by like the breath of despair
To the broken-hearted;
But little we dreamed of the coming pain,
As we murmured low, To meet again!
The day we parted,
And a wind went by like the breath of despair
To the broken-hearted;
But little we dreamed of the coming pain,
As we murmured low, To meet again!
But a yellow sunset lit the West,
And the snow-clad trees
Bowed to the leaden water's breast
In the pitiless breeze.
Farewell, we said, Farewell for a day!
But the sad wind sighed, Farewell for aye!
And the snow-clad trees
Bowed to the leaden water's breast
In the pitiless breeze.
Farewell, we said, Farewell for a day!
But the sad wind sighed, Farewell for aye!
61
The Afterglow
Here there is rain, and dead leaves whirling?
I hear not, see not!—In my eyes
Is sunlight, in my ears the swirling
Of snow-fed waters.—Which are lies?
I hear not, see not!—In my eyes
Is sunlight, in my ears the swirling
Of snow-fed waters.—Which are lies?
So rich a glory streams about you,
That one day with you shines afar,
Down through all darkened days without you,
As through dull lamp-light shines a star.
That one day with you shines afar,
Down through all darkened days without you,
As through dull lamp-light shines a star.
62
Illumination
Other faces, yes,
Have lent for me
A moment's loveliness
To land and sea.
Have lent for me
A moment's loveliness
To land and sea.
Thine has been as that
One day of Spring,
When up the heart flies, at
Heaven's gate to sing.
One day of Spring,
When up the heart flies, at
Heaven's gate to sing.
63
Visa Mihi Veritas
The light of Heaven, that fills all space
In little stars doth shine;
In miniature our souls embrace
The measureless Divine.
In little stars doth shine;
In miniature our souls embrace
The measureless Divine.
And I have thought a girl's soft eyes
And simple look might be
The very Truth of earth and skies
Made visible to me.
And simple look might be
The very Truth of earth and skies
Made visible to me.
64
The Word after Farewell
Not in the night of thy sorrow
I fear thy forgetting;
But when the unmindful bright morrow
Arise from this darkened day's setting,
Oh, let not thy heart put away
With its grief all the love of to-day!
I fear thy forgetting;
But when the unmindful bright morrow
Arise from this darkened day's setting,
Oh, let not thy heart put away
With its grief all the love of to-day!
In thine eyes, when thou smilest again,
Let a softer light be,—
As the sun returns after the rain,—
Remembering thy last smile on me;
And the roses of Love all thy years
Be bright with the pearls of past tears!
Let a softer light be,—
As the sun returns after the rain,—
Remembering thy last smile on me;
And the roses of Love all thy years
Be bright with the pearls of past tears!
65
Together, Once
Together, once, in light of day
We stood, and I had leave to say
Whate'er I would. Ah, well-a-day!
How could I speak of love?
My heart was happy as the bird
That soars and sings, and every word
Light as the summer air that stirred
The summer leaves above.
We stood, and I had leave to say
Whate'er I would. Ah, well-a-day!
How could I speak of love?
My heart was happy as the bird
That soars and sings, and every word
Light as the summer air that stirred
The summer leaves above.
Together, now, in dreams alone
I stand with thee; and now my tone
Is pleading as the marsh-wind's moan
Beside the sad salt sea;
O love, I cry, for sweet Love's sake,
O love, reply to my heart's ache,
Or, love, I die!—And then I wake,
And know thou'rt far from me.
I stand with thee; and now my tone
Is pleading as the marsh-wind's moan
Beside the sad salt sea;
O love, I cry, for sweet Love's sake,
O love, reply to my heart's ache,
Or, love, I die!—And then I wake,
And know thou'rt far from me.
66
Outre-Mer
If thou shouldst call across the sea,
I think thy voice would reach to me,
I think my heart would answer thee
In thine extremest need.
Or if, laid deep in sepulchre,
Thou calledst me, I dare aver
The dust that was my heart should stir,
The dust itself should bleed.
I think thy voice would reach to me,
I think my heart would answer thee
In thine extremest need.
Or if, laid deep in sepulchre,
Thou calledst me, I dare aver
The dust that was my heart should stir,
The dust itself should bleed.
Or else, love, if it be not so,
What good thing has Love left to show,
What thing at all, when Fate says No
To all we counted on?
A heart-prick in some wild-flower's scent:
A sting in places where we went:
A world all sand—all water spent—
The morning mirage gone.
What good thing has Love left to show,
What thing at all, when Fate says No
To all we counted on?
A heart-prick in some wild-flower's scent:
A sting in places where we went:
A world all sand—all water spent—
The morning mirage gone.
67
Kisses
The wave, when the ship goes onward,
Forgets the kiss of the keel;
And the wind, that the arrow startled,
The keen sweet sting of the steel.
Forgets the kiss of the keel;
And the wind, that the arrow startled,
The keen sweet sting of the steel.
Are kisses so soon forgotten?
Nay, what to you and me,
Who have walked in Eden together,
Are tales of the wind and the sea!
Nay, what to you and me,
Who have walked in Eden together,
Are tales of the wind and the sea!
68
Ask of the Nightingale
Ask of the nightingale
A song, and she shall sing thee
Such falls as cannot fail
Some inmost joy to bring thee.
A song, and she shall sing thee
Such falls as cannot fail
Some inmost joy to bring thee.
But I, so fond, so fain,
Am but as echo to thee,
That calls from walls again
Thine own sweet name to woo thee.
Am but as echo to thee,
That calls from walls again
Thine own sweet name to woo thee.
69
A Song of Love
If in thine eyes
I saw that softer light
That in the skies
Doth herald Spring's delight,
Ah, love, how loud my heart should sing,
Ev'n as the blackbird to the Spring!
I saw that softer light
That in the skies
Doth herald Spring's delight,
Ah, love, how loud my heart should sing,
Ev'n as the blackbird to the Spring!
If on thy cheek
I saw that warm hue play
That doth bespeak
The dawn of a new day,
Ah, love, how like the lark should rise
My soul in rapture to the skies!
I saw that warm hue play
That doth bespeak
The dawn of a new day,
Ah, love, how like the lark should rise
My soul in rapture to the skies!
If from thy mouth
I heard such whisper low
As from the South
Doth through the pinewoods blow,
How should my whole soul murmur through
With music, as the pinewoods do!
I heard such whisper low
As from the South
Doth through the pinewoods blow,
How should my whole soul murmur through
With music, as the pinewoods do!
70
A Silver Night
The silver shield of heaven all night
Defend thee, love, and be thy light;
And all the wakeful starry eyes
Keep watch above thee till day rise!
Defend thee, love, and be thy light;
And all the wakeful starry eyes
Keep watch above thee till day rise!
The idly wandering winds, that blow
Up to thy casement, thence shall go
More solemn with such joy to bear
Adown the silver-dusted air.
Up to thy casement, thence shall go
More solemn with such joy to bear
Adown the silver-dusted air.
Till all the pine-tree tongues shall move
To syllable thy name of love,
And pass in whispers on to me
The wind-borne wonder-tale of thee.
To syllable thy name of love,
And pass in whispers on to me
The wind-borne wonder-tale of thee.
71
Eheu, Fugaces!
The wheels whirl faster year by year
Adown the slope of life; I hear
The roaring of the Doom more near.
Adown the slope of life; I hear
The roaring of the Doom more near.
I catch at every flower that grows;
I grasp the thorns and miss the rose;
And life ungovernably goes.
I grasp the thorns and miss the rose;
And life ungovernably goes.
O vision of an angel face,
That floatest nigh me for a space,
A dream of music and of grace!
That floatest nigh me for a space,
A dream of music and of grace!
I know not what thou art; but bend
Thy soft eyes on me, and defend
From the fierce terror of the end!
Thy soft eyes on me, and defend
From the fierce terror of the end!
72
A Summer Cloud
Yes, it was you,
The soft cloud in the summer blue,
So white, so warm,
That brought the thunder and the storm.
The soft cloud in the summer blue,
So white, so warm,
That brought the thunder and the storm.
So warm, so white,
With broad rays like a ladder bright,
That reached to heaven,
The very highest of the seven.
With broad rays like a ladder bright,
That reached to heaven,
The very highest of the seven.
Earth seemed as fair,
As crystalline the liquid air,
As painters drew
In Italy when Art was new.
As crystalline the liquid air,
As painters drew
In Italy when Art was new.
Yes, it was you,
Transfigured earth awhile, then drew
The dreadful rain
That drowned a whole life's garnered gain.
Transfigured earth awhile, then drew
The dreadful rain
That drowned a whole life's garnered gain.
73
A Fallen Idol
If Dante, when he steeled his soul
To face the fires of Hell
By dreams of Beatrice—his goal
The Heaven where she did dwell:
To face the fires of Hell
By dreams of Beatrice—his goal
The Heaven where she did dwell:
If, having lost the world for this,
He, in the lowest Pit
Had found her whom he thought in Bliss,
My fate and his would fit.
He, in the lowest Pit
Had found her whom he thought in Bliss,
My fate and his would fit.
74
Any Man to any Woman
As some musk-breathing night of May
When odorous dews grow rare
On flowers too glad to sleep away
One hour of life so fair:
When odorous dews grow rare
On flowers too glad to sleep away
One hour of life so fair:
As some mid-winter night of pain,
When every shivering tree
Grows ice-sheathed from the deadly rain—
These hast thou been to me.
When every shivering tree
Grows ice-sheathed from the deadly rain—
These hast thou been to me.
75
A Man's Question
Why did you snap the string,
When it was rendering
At your light touch its fullest sweetest tone?
Did it not give its whole
Of music? and its soul,
Was it not utterly and all your own?
When it was rendering
At your light touch its fullest sweetest tone?
Did it not give its whole
Of music? and its soul,
Was it not utterly and all your own?
One moment—a low chord
Ringing with love's reward
And crownèd hope that trembled into peace;
Then with light violence
You smote the string-strained tense
And bade for ever that soft voice to cease.
Ringing with love's reward
And crownèd hope that trembled into peace;
Then with light violence
You smote the string-strained tense
And bade for ever that soft voice to cease.
76
The Bird and the Beacon
Poor bird that battlest with the storm
To gain the beacon-light,
Then fall'st a wounded woeful form
Into the gulfs of night!
A thousand lips that light may bless:
To thee 'tis the last bitterness.
To gain the beacon-light,
Then fall'st a wounded woeful form
Into the gulfs of night!
A thousand lips that light may bless:
To thee 'tis the last bitterness.
A light was given to the earth,
Wearing a woman's name;
A thousand tongues have told her worth,
And deathless is her fame.
But I was the spent bird, that there
Salvation sought, and found despair.
Wearing a woman's name;
A thousand tongues have told her worth,
And deathless is her fame.
But I was the spent bird, that there
Salvation sought, and found despair.
77
The Story of a Lover's Soul
Oh, the days of a dawning rapture
In earth and skies,
When a callow soul came tame to the capture
Of thy soft eyes;
When a fluttering heart to thy hand came meekly,
As a 'scaped cage-bird when the wind blows bleakly!
In earth and skies,
When a callow soul came tame to the capture
Of thy soft eyes;
When a fluttering heart to thy hand came meekly,
As a 'scaped cage-bird when the wind blows bleakly!
All my heart at thy kisses kindled,
As a wine-fed flame;
All my old self was scorched and dwindled,
As a new self came;
As a new self grew, like the tender grasses
In the blackened forest, when the fire passes.
As a wine-fed flame;
All my old self was scorched and dwindled,
As a new self came;
As a new self grew, like the tender grasses
In the blackened forest, when the fire passes.
Oh, the days of the revelation
Of the glory of Love!
Earth itself was a new creation;
And Heaven above,
Height beyond height, unreached, undreamed,
Wide open to my winged soul seemed.
Of the glory of Love!
Earth itself was a new creation;
And Heaven above,
Height beyond height, unreached, undreamed,
Wide open to my winged soul seemed.
78
Oh, the days of the desolation,
The days of fire!
The darkened heavens—the desecration
Oh high desire!
When the heart, that was Love's Dodona, lies
A blackened desert where dust-whirls rise.
The days of fire!
The darkened heavens—the desecration
Oh high desire!
When the heart, that was Love's Dodona, lies
A blackened desert where dust-whirls rise.
79
The Poisoned Butterfly
How should the butterfly divine,
When on the lily's crest he lit,
How poisoned was her honey-wine,—
How nevermore his wings would flit
Like flame among the woods of pine?
When on the lily's crest he lit,
How poisoned was her honey-wine,—
How nevermore his wings would flit
Like flame among the woods of pine?
How should the butterfly have guessed,
When in the lily's heart he lay,
Nor ever folded to the nest,
As blossoms fold at close of day,
How near the sun was to the West?
When in the lily's heart he lay,
Nor ever folded to the nest,
As blossoms fold at close of day,
How near the sun was to the West?
How should the butterfly have deemed
The drowsiness that fell on him
Was more than when at noon he dreamed,
Half drowsy, on the rose's brim—
So sweet, so mild his slumber seemed!
The drowsiness that fell on him
Was more than when at noon he dreamed,
Half drowsy, on the rose's brim—
So sweet, so mild his slumber seemed!
But I was such a butterfly,
Who fluttered to a flower as fair,
Nor dreamed from such delight to fly,
So sweetly poisoned was the snare:
Now, sick past help, she casts me by.
Who fluttered to a flower as fair,
Nor dreamed from such delight to fly,
So sweetly poisoned was the snare:
Now, sick past help, she casts me by.
80
Finis sine Fine
The fires in ashes lie
That leapt so wildly high;
The last faint sparks are dying dying;
Nothing is left of love
But vapours ris'n above,
And ashes coldly lying.
That leapt so wildly high;
The last faint sparks are dying dying;
Nothing is left of love
But vapours ris'n above,
And ashes coldly lying.
Is this, is this the end?
O love, O life, O friend!
A raptured hour, a swift forgetting,
And earth for evermore
Lone as an island shore
Where breaks no wave but brings
some old regretting?
O love, O life, O friend!
A raptured hour, a swift forgetting,
And earth for evermore
Lone as an island shore
Where breaks no wave but brings
some old regretting?
81
The Happy Spring
The lark 'gan sing,
The lamb was playing,
The happy Spring
All hearts obeying.
The lamb was playing,
The happy Spring
All hearts obeying.
And then I crept
Where Love lay sleeping,
And wept, and wept,
And still am weeping.
Where Love lay sleeping,
And wept, and wept,
And still am weeping.
82
The One Day
In a labyrinthine woodland
I met the Lady May,
Fresh with showers, sweet with flowers,
And I followed all the day
Her footsteps in the long grass
Where the dew was brushed away.
I met the Lady May,
Fresh with showers, sweet with flowers,
And I followed all the day
Her footsteps in the long grass
Where the dew was brushed away.
When the even fell she vanished,
And the night came dark with rain;
Through the woods the spirits banished
Shrieked fitfully in pain;
And I had lived the one day
That in life comes not again.
And the night came dark with rain;
Through the woods the spirits banished
Shrieked fitfully in pain;
And I had lived the one day
That in life comes not again.
83
The Magic Maiden
Is there poison on thy lips
Magic maiden?
Like the luscious flowers death-laden
The wild bee sips,
In deep forest glooms,
Whose stars are blooms.
Magic maiden?
Like the luscious flowers death-laden
The wild bee sips,
In deep forest glooms,
Whose stars are blooms.
Though mine eyes drank love at thine
'Twas but pastime,
Till, alas! we met the last time;
Thy lips touched mine.
And now I draw to thee,
Thou moon—I see.
'Twas but pastime,
Till, alas! we met the last time;
Thy lips touched mine.
And now I draw to thee,
Thou moon—I see.
84
A Magic Circle
Ah, halting oft is human speech,
Darling, whose name is Love's for me;
But as we sat upon the beach
No words we needed, each from each;
Such voices found we in the sea,
And in the winds that wandered free.
Darling, whose name is Love's for me;
But as we sat upon the beach
No words we needed, each from each;
Such voices found we in the sea,
And in the winds that wandered free.
What need to say I love you, when
Your hair was blown about my face?
While the sea's music seemed to pen
A fold enchanted far from men
(Such airy walls as wizards trace),
To shut the world out from our place.
Your hair was blown about my face?
While the sea's music seemed to pen
A fold enchanted far from men
(Such airy walls as wizards trace),
To shut the world out from our place.
Oh, wonder of Love's supreme day!
That light is faded long ago;
The sea, and all the world, is gray;
But that one spot of earth for aye
Is ringed with magic radiance, though
A thousand pass there and not know.
That light is faded long ago;
The sea, and all the world, is gray;
But that one spot of earth for aye
Is ringed with magic radiance, though
A thousand pass there and not know.
85
Earth has Forgotten
Earth has forgotten
Her Eden days,
And the garden hidden
From human gaze,
The angel footsteps,
The thornless ways.
Her Eden days,
And the garden hidden
From human gaze,
The angel footsteps,
The thornless ways.
O world unwitting!
No spot of thee
But might in a moment
All Eden be,
Could I have my lost love
There with me!
No spot of thee
But might in a moment
All Eden be,
Could I have my lost love
There with me!
86
Via Invia
Were any fain to reach a star,
He would not fashion stairways high,
Seek foot by foot to climb so far,
Or step by step ascend the sky.
He would not fashion stairways high,
Seek foot by foot to climb so far,
Or step by step ascend the sky.
Nay, he would scorn the eagle's wings,
To dare an undiscovered way,
Leap out upon the night's blue rings,
And hail at dawn his wished-for day.
To dare an undiscovered way,
Leap out upon the night's blue rings,
And hail at dawn his wished-for day.
I will not vainly seek to thee
By ladder-steps of wealth or fame,
Till some few feet below me be
The world—thy distance still the same.
By ladder-steps of wealth or fame,
Till some few feet below me be
The world—thy distance still the same.
Love's is an empire larger far
Than land or sea or liquid air.
Though thou wert further than a star,
Love easily should bring me there.
Than land or sea or liquid air.
Though thou wert further than a star,
Love easily should bring me there.
87
A Rondel of the Ivy-Leaf
The ivy-leaf she loves to wear
In token of Fidelity;
For ever-green's the ivy tree,
And she's as faithful as she's fair.
In token of Fidelity;
For ever-green's the ivy tree,
And she's as faithful as she's fair.
Yet scarce my breaking heart can bear
For ever at her breast to see
The ivy-leaf she loves to wear
In token of Fidelity.
For ever at her breast to see
The ivy-leaf she loves to wear
In token of Fidelity.
Were she less faithful or less fair!
O Love, forgive the blasphemy!
But since her love is not for me
To me 'tis token of Despair,
The ivy-leaf she loves to wear.
O Love, forgive the blasphemy!
But since her love is not for me
To me 'tis token of Despair,
The ivy-leaf she loves to wear.
88
A Rondel of Absence
When my dear lady is away,
Her lightest word is then my law;
As wayward sands, when tides with-draw,
Repeat the wavelets' lightest play.
Her lightest word is then my law;
As wayward sands, when tides with-draw,
Repeat the wavelets' lightest play.
Though daily I should disobey
When she is by, and show no awe,
When my dear lady is away,
Her lightest word is then my law.
When she is by, and show no awe,
When my dear lady is away,
Her lightest word is then my law.
Fierce as a flagellant I flay
My own back for the slightest flaw,
That she would pardon if she saw:
I pardon nothing in that day
When my dear lady is away.
My own back for the slightest flaw,
That she would pardon if she saw:
I pardon nothing in that day
When my dear lady is away.
89
Love Sonnets.
I
From woods, from mountains, and from lonely streams,But most from fair girl-faces I have drawn
The inspiration which in after dreams
Floods all the spirit, like a golden dawn.
But now to be half-human, as a Faun,
Or more than human, as an Angel, seems
Alone desirable; whom fancy deems
Awake to beauty, but from love withdrawn.
For on thy loveliness if I could gaze
And feel, not human love, but that desire,
Spirit exalting, which the stars inspire
On summer nights or seas on summer days:
Then might I read, writ clear in human eyes,
The undeciphered speech of seas and skies.
90
II
Thy face should be a Tintoret's despair;
Nor Raphael nor Leonardo could,
Limning thy beauty on their lifeless wood,
Reveal thyself that art chief beauty there.
Though all the world before thy picture stood,
And called it beautiful beyond compare,
I only might stand by in bitter mood,
Searching that fair face for the self more fair.
Nor Raphael nor Leonardo could,
Limning thy beauty on their lifeless wood,
Reveal thyself that art chief beauty there.
Though all the world before thy picture stood,
And called it beautiful beyond compare,
I only might stand by in bitter mood,
Searching that fair face for the self more fair.
Swift clouds they paint, winds blowing, seas in madness,
The lightning's flashing, and the rainbow's sheen;
Thee may they paint, as some men see and hear thee;
But who can give the glory, who the gladness,
The hope, the sanctity, that is not seen,
But streams into my soul when I am near thee?
The lightning's flashing, and the rainbow's sheen;
Thee may they paint, as some men see and hear thee;
But who can give the glory, who the gladness,
The hope, the sanctity, that is not seen,
But streams into my soul when I am near thee?
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III
Now hath the ageing year forgot thee, June,
And doteth on the Mœnad month, October;
How harlot-like she wastes his wealth! How soon
His gold shall all be gone, and he left sober!
Yet can I not forget thy days of swoon,
Dear June, at Henley; though the daft disrober
Beat his leaf-tatters all the afternoon
About me, playing mad to please October.
And doteth on the Mœnad month, October;
How harlot-like she wastes his wealth! How soon
His gold shall all be gone, and he left sober!
Yet can I not forget thy days of swoon,
Dear June, at Henley; though the daft disrober
Beat his leaf-tatters all the afternoon
About me, playing mad to please October.
Still seems the dull day must be brighter there,
The trees full-leafed, the meadow-grass full green;
While Thames, here turbid, there steals softly on
A dream of silver, her light boat to bear.
Yet well I know how changed is that fair scene:
Or hides it in some mystic Avalon?
The trees full-leafed, the meadow-grass full green;
While Thames, here turbid, there steals softly on
A dream of silver, her light boat to bear.
Yet well I know how changed is that fair scene:
Or hides it in some mystic Avalon?
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IV
And all my dream of her—is that but dreaming?
Was it not heaven at her side to be?
Or this too, is it as a mirage gleaming,
A desert that, looked back on, seems a sea?
A desert, that day? Nay then, what redeeming
Hath this day?—Speak, dull memory! Was not she
The vision of the Grail, all heaven streaming
About her, for all white souls, and for me?
Was it not heaven at her side to be?
Or this too, is it as a mirage gleaming,
A desert that, looked back on, seems a sea?
A desert, that day? Nay then, what redeeming
Hath this day?—Speak, dull memory! Was not she
The vision of the Grail, all heaven streaming
About her, for all white souls, and for me?
Not so: though now a light is on those hours,
Most were not golden that I had with her,
Many were maddened.—Peace! my dream is now
More true than memory; 'tis a dream of flowers;
That was a day of flowers: no wind did stir,
And I was with her 'neath the willowbough.
Most were not golden that I had with her,
Many were maddened.—Peace! my dream is now
More true than memory; 'tis a dream of flowers;
That was a day of flowers: no wind did stir,
And I was with her 'neath the willowbough.
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V
I wake from one more Circe-draught of love,
And all my soul is sick with sulphur fumes
And poisonous salt savours. Yet, above
The noisome hell-reek that my soul consumes,
The blood-taste and the blackness, I am 'ware
Of some o'erwhelming terror that before
O'ertook me not in my most dark despair;
A cold wind drives me to some dreadful door.
And all my soul is sick with sulphur fumes
And poisonous salt savours. Yet, above
The noisome hell-reek that my soul consumes,
The blood-taste and the blackness, I am 'ware
Of some o'erwhelming terror that before
O'ertook me not in my most dark despair;
A cold wind drives me to some dreadful door.
Death is it? I have long been friends with Death.
Hell is it? I have oft been housed in Hell.
It is not Madness, though it maddeneth,
Nor fanged Remorse—I know Remorse too well.
What, Love! were those but flittings, this thy flying?
What, Love! were those thy slumbers, this thy dying?
Hell is it? I have oft been housed in Hell.
It is not Madness, though it maddeneth,
Nor fanged Remorse—I know Remorse too well.
What, Love! were those but flittings, this thy flying?
What, Love! were those thy slumbers, this thy dying?
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