Poems By Edward Dowden |
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119
SEA VOICES
Was it a lullaby the Sea went singing
About my feet, some old-world monotone,
Filled full of secret memories, and bringing
Not hope to sting the heart, but peace alone,
Sleep and the certitude of sleep to be
Wiser henceforth than all philosophy?
About my feet, some old-world monotone,
Filled full of secret memories, and bringing
Not hope to sting the heart, but peace alone,
Sleep and the certitude of sleep to be
Wiser henceforth than all philosophy?
Truth! did we seek for truth with eye and brain
Through days so many and wasted with desire?
Listen, the same long gulfing voice again:
Tired limbs lie slack as sands are, eyes that tire
Close gently, close forever, twilight grey
Receives you, tenderer than the glaring day.
[He sleeps, and after an interval awakes.]Through days so many and wasted with desire?
Listen, the same long gulfing voice again:
Tired limbs lie slack as sands are, eyes that tire
Close gently, close forever, twilight grey
Receives you, tenderer than the glaring day.
Ah terror, ah delight! A sudden cry,
Anguish, or hope, or triumph. Awake, arise,—
The winds awake! Is ocean's lullaby
This clarion-call? Her kiss, the spray that flies
Salt to the lip and cheek? Her motion light
Of nursing breasts, this swift pursuit and flight?
Anguish, or hope, or triumph. Awake, arise,—
The winds awake! Is ocean's lullaby
This clarion-call? Her kiss, the spray that flies
Salt to the lip and cheek? Her motion light
Of nursing breasts, this swift pursuit and flight?
120
O wild sea-voices! Victory and defeat,
But ever deathless passion and unrest,
White wings upon the wind and flying feet,
Disdain and wrath, a reared and hissing crest,
The imperious urge, and last, a whole life spent
In bliss of one supreme abandonment.
But ever deathless passion and unrest,
White wings upon the wind and flying feet,
Disdain and wrath, a reared and hissing crest,
The imperious urge, and last, a whole life spent
In bliss of one supreme abandonment.
121
ABOARD THE “SEA-SWALLOW”
The gloom of the sea-fronting cliffs
Lay on the water, violet-dark,
The pennon drooped, the sail fell in,
And slowly moved our bark.
Lay on the water, violet-dark,
The pennon drooped, the sail fell in,
And slowly moved our bark.
A golden day; the summer dreamed
In heaven and on the whispering sea,
Within our hearts the summer dreamed;
The hours had ceased to be.
In heaven and on the whispering sea,
Within our hearts the summer dreamed;
The hours had ceased to be.
Then rose the girls with bonnets loosed,
And shining tresses lightly blown,
Alice and Adela, and sang
A song of Mendelssohn.
And shining tresses lightly blown,
Alice and Adela, and sang
A song of Mendelssohn.
O sweet, and sad, and wildly clear,
Through summer air it sinks and swells,
Wild with a measureless desire,
And sad with all farewells.
Through summer air it sinks and swells,
Wild with a measureless desire,
And sad with all farewells.
122
SEA-SIGHING
This is the burden of the Sea,
Loss, failure, sorrows manifold;
Yet something though the voice sound free
Remains untold.
Loss, failure, sorrows manifold;
Yet something though the voice sound free
Remains untold.
Listen! that secret sigh again
Kept very low, a whole heart's waste;
What means this inwardness of pain?
This sob repressed?
Kept very low, a whole heart's waste;
What means this inwardness of pain?
This sob repressed?
Some ancient sin, some supreme wrong,
Some huge attempt God brought to nought,
All over while the world was young,
And ne'er forgot?
Some huge attempt God brought to nought,
All over while the world was young,
And ne'er forgot?
Those lips, which open wide and cry,
Weak as pale flowers or trembling birds,
Are proud, and fixed immutably
Against such words.
Weak as pale flowers or trembling birds,
Are proud, and fixed immutably
Against such words.
Confession from that burdened soul
No ghostly counsellor may win;
Could such as we receive its whole
Passion and sin?
No ghostly counsellor may win;
Could such as we receive its whole
Passion and sin?
In this high presence priest or king,
Prophet or singer of the earth,
With yon cast sea-weed were a thing
Of equal worth.
Prophet or singer of the earth,
With yon cast sea-weed were a thing
Of equal worth.
123
IN THE MOUNTAINS
Fatigued of heart, and owning how the world
Is strong, too strong for will of mine, my steps
Through the tall pines I led, to reach that spur
Which strikes from off the mountain toward the West.
I hoped to lull a fretted heart to sleep,
And in the place of definite thought a sense
Possessed me, dim and sweet, of Motherhood,
The breasts of Nature, warmth, and soothing hands,
And tender, inarticulate nursing-words
Slow uttered o'er tired eyes.
Is strong, too strong for will of mine, my steps
Through the tall pines I led, to reach that spur
Which strikes from off the mountain toward the West.
I hoped to lull a fretted heart to sleep,
And in the place of definite thought a sense
Possessed me, dim and sweet, of Motherhood,
The breasts of Nature, warmth, and soothing hands,
And tender, inarticulate nursing-words
Slow uttered o'er tired eyes.
But suddenly
Rude waking! Suddenly the rocks, the trees
Stood up in rangèd power, rigid, erect,
And all cried out on me “Away with him!
Away! He is not of us, has no part
In ours or us! Traitor, away with him!”
And the birds shrilled it “Traitor,” and the flowers
Stared up at me with small, hard, insolent eyes.
But I, who had been weak, was weak no more,
Nor shrank at all, but with deliberate step
Moved on, and with both hands waved off the throng,
And feared them not, nor sent defiance back.
Thus, till the pine-glooms fell away, and goats
Went tinkling and no herd-boy near; glad airs
With sunshine in them moved angelical
Upon the solitary heights; the sky
Held not a cloud from marge to marge; and now
Westward the sun was treading, calm and free.
I lay upon the grass, and how an hour
Went past I know not. When again time was,
The sun had fallen, and congregated clouds,
A vision of great glories, held the West,
And through them, and beyond, the hyaline
Led the charm'd spirit through infinite spaces on.
I think of all the men upon this earth
The sight was mine alone; it for my soul,
My soul for it, until all seeing died.
Where did I live transfigured? through what times
Of heaven's great year? What sudden need of me
For sacrifice on altar, or for priest,
For soldier at the rampart, cup-bearer
At feasts of God, rapt singer in the joy
Of consonant praise, doom'd rebel for the fires?
—I know not, but somewhere some part I held,
Nor fail'd when summoned.
Rude waking! Suddenly the rocks, the trees
Stood up in rangèd power, rigid, erect,
And all cried out on me “Away with him!
Away! He is not of us, has no part
In ours or us! Traitor, away with him!”
And the birds shrilled it “Traitor,” and the flowers
Stared up at me with small, hard, insolent eyes.
But I, who had been weak, was weak no more,
Nor shrank at all, but with deliberate step
Moved on, and with both hands waved off the throng,
And feared them not, nor sent defiance back.
124
Went tinkling and no herd-boy near; glad airs
With sunshine in them moved angelical
Upon the solitary heights; the sky
Held not a cloud from marge to marge; and now
Westward the sun was treading, calm and free.
I lay upon the grass, and how an hour
Went past I know not. When again time was,
The sun had fallen, and congregated clouds,
A vision of great glories, held the West,
And through them, and beyond, the hyaline
Led the charm'd spirit through infinite spaces on.
I think of all the men upon this earth
The sight was mine alone; it for my soul,
My soul for it, until all seeing died.
Where did I live transfigured? through what times
Of heaven's great year? What sudden need of me
For sacrifice on altar, or for priest,
For soldier at the rampart, cup-bearer
At feasts of God, rapt singer in the joy
Of consonant praise, doom'd rebel for the fires?
—I know not, but somewhere some part I held,
Nor fail'd when summoned.
When the body took
Its guest once more the clouds were massy-grey,
The event was ended; yet a certain thing
Abode with me, which still eludes its name,
Yet lies within my heart like some great word
A mage has taught, and he who heard it once
Cannot pronounce, and never may forget.
But this I dare record,—when all was past,
And once again I turned to seek the vale,
And moved adown the slippery pine-wood path,
In the dimness every pine tree bowed to me
With duteous service, and the rocks lay couched
Like armèd followers round, and one bird sang
The song I chose, and heavy fragrance came
From unseen flowers, and all things were aware
One passed who had been called and consecrate.
Its guest once more the clouds were massy-grey,
The event was ended; yet a certain thing
Abode with me, which still eludes its name,
Yet lies within my heart like some great word
A mage has taught, and he who heard it once
125
But this I dare record,—when all was past,
And once again I turned to seek the vale,
And moved adown the slippery pine-wood path,
In the dimness every pine tree bowed to me
With duteous service, and the rocks lay couched
Like armèd followers round, and one bird sang
The song I chose, and heavy fragrance came
From unseen flowers, and all things were aware
One passed who had been called and consecrate.
126
“THE TOP OF A HILL CALLED CLEAR”
(In sight of the Celestial City)
And all my days led on to this! the days
Of pallid light, of springs no sun would warm,
Of chilling rain autumnal, which decays
High woods while veering south the quick wings swarm,
The days of hot desire, of broken dreaming,
Mechanic toil, poor pride that was but seeming,
And bleeding feet, and sun-smit flowerless ways.
Of pallid light, of springs no sun would warm,
Of chilling rain autumnal, which decays
High woods while veering south the quick wings swarm,
The days of hot desire, of broken dreaming,
Mechanic toil, poor pride that was but seeming,
And bleeding feet, and sun-smit flowerless ways.
Below me spreads a sea of tranquil light,
No blue cloud thunder-laden, but pure air
Shot through and through with sunshine; from this height
A man might cast himself in joy's despair,
And find unhoped, to bear him lest he fall,
Swift succouring wings, and hands angelical,
And circling of soft eyes, and foreheads bright.
No blue cloud thunder-laden, but pure air
Shot through and through with sunshine; from this height
A man might cast himself in joy's despair,
And find unhoped, to bear him lest he fall,
Swift succouring wings, and hands angelical,
And circling of soft eyes, and foreheads bright.
Under me light, and light is o'er my head,
And awful heaven and heaven to left and right;
In all His worlds this spot unvisited
God kept, save by the winging of keen light,
And the dread gaze of stars, and morning's wan
Virginity, for me a living man,
Living, not borne among the enfranchised dead.
And awful heaven and heaven to left and right;
In all His worlds this spot unvisited
God kept, save by the winging of keen light,
And the dread gaze of stars, and morning's wan
127
Living, not borne among the enfranchised dead.
New life,—not death! No glow the senses cast
Across the spirit, no pleasure shoots o'er me
Its scattering flaw, no words may I hold fast
Here, where God's breath streams inexhaustibly;
But conquest stern is mine, a will made sane,
Life's vision wide and calm, a supreme pain,
An absolute joy; and love the first and last.
Across the spirit, no pleasure shoots o'er me
Its scattering flaw, no words may I hold fast
Here, where God's breath streams inexhaustibly;
But conquest stern is mine, a will made sane,
Life's vision wide and calm, a supreme pain,
An absolute joy; and love the first and last.
128
THE INITIATION
Under the flaming wings of cherubim
I moved toward that high altar. O, the hour!
And the light waxed intenser, and the dim
Low edges of the hills and the grey sea
Were caught and captur'd by the present Power,
My sureties and my witnesses to be.
I moved toward that high altar. O, the hour!
And the light waxed intenser, and the dim
Low edges of the hills and the grey sea
Were caught and captur'd by the present Power,
My sureties and my witnesses to be.
Then the light drew me in. Ah, perfect pain!
Ah, infinite moment of accomplishment!
Thou terror of pure joy, with neither wane
Nor waxing, but long silence and sharp air
As womb-forsaking babes breathe. Hush! the event
Let him who wrought Love's marvellous things declare.
Ah, infinite moment of accomplishment!
Thou terror of pure joy, with neither wane
Nor waxing, but long silence and sharp air
As womb-forsaking babes breathe. Hush! the event
Let him who wrought Love's marvellous things declare.
Shall I who fear'd not joy, fear grief at all?
I on whose mouth Life laid his sudden lips
Tremble at Death's weak kiss, and not recall
That sundering from the flesh, the flight from time,
The judgments stern, the clear apocalypse,
The lightnings, and the Presences sublime.
I on whose mouth Life laid his sudden lips
Tremble at Death's weak kiss, and not recall
That sundering from the flesh, the flight from time,
The judgments stern, the clear apocalypse,
The lightnings, and the Presences sublime.
129
How came I back to earth? I know not how,
Nor what hands led me, nor what words were said.
Now all things are made mine,—joy, sorrow; now
I know my purpose deep, and can refrain;
I walk among the living not the dead;
My sight is purged; I love and pity men.
Nor what hands led me, nor what words were said.
Now all things are made mine,—joy, sorrow; now
I know my purpose deep, and can refrain;
I walk among the living not the dead;
My sight is purged; I love and pity men.
130
RENUNCIANTS
Seems not our breathing light?
Sound not our voices free?
Bid to Life's festal bright
No gladder guests there be.
Sound not our voices free?
Bid to Life's festal bright
No gladder guests there be.
Ah, stranger, lay aside
Cold prudence! I divine
The secret you would hide,
And you conjecture mine.
Cold prudence! I divine
The secret you would hide,
And you conjecture mine.
You too have temperate eyes,
Have put your heart to school,
Are proved. I recognize
A brother of the rule.
Have put your heart to school,
Are proved. I recognize
A brother of the rule.
I knew it by your lip,
A something when you smiled,
Which meant “close scholarship,
A master of the guild.”
A something when you smiled,
Which meant “close scholarship,
A master of the guild.”
Well, and how good is life,
Good to be born, have breath,
The calms good and the strife,
Good life, and perfect death.
Good to be born, have breath,
The calms good and the strife,
Good life, and perfect death.
Come, for the dancers wheel,
Join we the pleasant din,
—Comrade, it serves to feel
The sackcloth next the skin.
Join we the pleasant din,
—Comrade, it serves to feel
The sackcloth next the skin.
131
SPEAKERS TO GOD
First Speaker
Eastward I went and Westward, North and South,
And the wind blew me from deep zone to zone;
Many strong women did I love; my mouth
I gave for kisses, rose, and straight was gone.
And the wind blew me from deep zone to zone;
Many strong women did I love; my mouth
I gave for kisses, rose, and straight was gone.
I fought with heroes; there was joyous play
Of swords; my cities rose in every land;
Then forth I fared. O God, thou knowest, I lay
Ever within the hollow of thy hand.
Of swords; my cities rose in every land;
Then forth I fared. O God, thou knowest, I lay
Ever within the hollow of thy hand.
Second Speaker
I am borne out to thee upon the wave,
And the land lessens; cry nor speech I hear,
Nought but the leaping waters and the brave
Pure winds commingling. O the joy, the fear!
And the land lessens; cry nor speech I hear,
Nought but the leaping waters and the brave
Pure winds commingling. O the joy, the fear!
Alone with thee; sky's rim and ocean's rim
Touch, overhead the clear immensity
Is merely God; no eyes of seraphim
Gaze in . . . O God, Thou also art the sea!
Touch, overhead the clear immensity
Is merely God; no eyes of seraphim
Gaze in . . . O God, Thou also art the sea!
132
Thus it shall be a lifetime,—ne'er to meet;
A trackless land divides us lone and long;
Others, who seek Him, find, run swift to greet
Their Friend, approach the bridegroom's door with song.
A trackless land divides us lone and long;
Others, who seek Him, find, run swift to greet
Their Friend, approach the bridegroom's door with song.
I stand, nor dare affirm I see or hear;
How should I dream, when strict is my employ?
Yet if some time, far hence, thou drawest near
Shall there be any joy like to our joy?
How should I dream, when strict is my employ?
Yet if some time, far hence, thou drawest near
Shall there be any joy like to our joy?
133
POESIA
(To a Painter)
Paint her with robe and girdle laid aside,Without a jewel upon her; you must hide
By sleight of artist from the gazer's view
No whit of her fair body; calm and true
Her eyes must meet our passion, as aware
The world is beautiful, and she being fair
A part of it. She needs be no more pure
Than a dove is, nor could one well endure
More faultlessness than of a sovran rose,
Reserved, yet liberal to each breeze that blows.
Let her be all revealed, nor therefore less
A mystery of unsearchable loveliness;
There must be no discoveries to be made,
Save as a noonday sky with not a shade
Or floating cloud of Summer to the eye
Which drinks its light admits discovery.
Did common raiment hide her could we know
How hopeless were the rash attempt to throw
Sideways the veil which guards her womanhood?
Therefore her sacred vesture must elude
All mortal touch, and let her welcome well
Each comer, being still unapproachable.
Plant firm on Earth her feet, as though her own
Its harvests were, and, for she would be known
Fearless not fugitive, interpose no bar
'Twixt us and her, Love's radiant avatar,
No more to be possessed than sunsets are.
134
MUSICIANS
I know the harps whereon the Angels play,
While in God's listening face they gaze intent,
Are these frail hearts,—yours, mine; and gently they,
Leaning a warm breast toward the instrument,
And preluding among the tremulous wires,
First draw forth dreams of song, unfledged desires,
Nameless regrets, sweet hopes which will not stay.
While in God's listening face they gaze intent,
Are these frail hearts,—yours, mine; and gently they,
Leaning a warm breast toward the instrument,
And preluding among the tremulous wires,
First draw forth dreams of song, unfledged desires,
Nameless regrets, sweet hopes which will not stay.
But when the passionate sense of heavenly things
Possesses the musician, and his lips
Part glowing, and the shadow of his wings
Grows golden, and fire streams from finger-tips,
And he is mighty, and his heart-throbs thicken,
And quick intolerable pulses quicken,
How his hand lords it in among the strings!
Possesses the musician, and his lips
Part glowing, and the shadow of his wings
Grows golden, and fire streams from finger-tips,
And he is mighty, and his heart-throbs thicken,
And quick intolerable pulses quicken,
How his hand lords it in among the strings!
Ah the keen crying of the wires! the pain
Of restless music yearning to out-break
And shed its sweetness utterly, the rain
Of heavenly laughters, threats obscure which shake
The spirit, trampling tumults which dismay,
The fateful pause, the fiat summoning day,
The faultless flower of light which will not wane.
Of restless music yearning to out-break
And shed its sweetness utterly, the rain
Of heavenly laughters, threats obscure which shake
The spirit, trampling tumults which dismay,
The fateful pause, the fiat summoning day,
The faultless flower of light which will not wane.
135
How wrought with you the awful lord of song?
What thirst of God hath he appeased? What bliss
Raised to clear ecstasy? O tender and strong
The eager melodist who leaned o'er this
Live heart of mine, who leans above it now:
The stern pure eyes! the ample, radiant brow!
Pluck boldly, Master, the good strain prolong.
What thirst of God hath he appeased? What bliss
Raised to clear ecstasy? O tender and strong
The eager melodist who leaned o'er this
Live heart of mine, who leans above it now:
The stern pure eyes! the ample, radiant brow!
Pluck boldly, Master, the good strain prolong.
| Poems | |