Flower Pieces and other poems By William Allingham: With two designs by Dante Gabriel Rossetti |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
RISING OF JUPITER. |
|
|
 | Flower Pieces and other poems |  |
114
RISING OF JUPITER.
Splendidly Jupiter's planet rises over the river,
Jupiter, fabulous god of vanish'd mortals and years;
Silence and dusk diffused far and wide on the landscape,
Solemn, shadowy world, past and present in one.
Many a glimmering light is aloft, but grandest to vision
Now, as noblest in rank of our Sun's astonishing brood,
Over dim waters and wolds and hills, in the clear dark night-sky,
Jupiter hangs like a royal diamond, throbbing with flame.
Jupiter, fabulous god of vanish'd mortals and years;
Silence and dusk diffused far and wide on the landscape,
Solemn, shadowy world, past and present in one.
Many a glimmering light is aloft, but grandest to vision
Now, as noblest in rank of our Sun's astonishing brood,
Over dim waters and wolds and hills, in the clear dark night-sky,
Jupiter hangs like a royal diamond, throbbing with flame.
Still in our starry heav'n the Pagan Gods have their station;
Only, in sooth, as words: what were they ever but words?
Lo, mankind hath fashion'd its thoughts, its hopes, and its dreamings,
Fashion'd and named them thus and thus, by the bardic voice,
Fashion'd them better or worse, from a shallower insight or deeper,
Names to abide for a term, in many mouths or a few;
Each and all in turn to give place, be it sooner or later.
What is ten thousand years on the mighty Dial of Heav'n?
Only, in sooth, as words: what were they ever but words?
Lo, mankind hath fashion'd its thoughts, its hopes, and its dreamings,
Fashion'd and named them thus and thus, by the bardic voice,
Fashion'd them better or worse, from a shallower insight or deeper,
Names to abide for a term, in many mouths or a few;
115
What is ten thousand years on the mighty Dial of Heav'n?
Nothing is fix'd. All moves. O Star! thou hast look'd upon changes
Here on this Planet of Man. Changes unguess'd are to come.
The New Time forgetteth the Old,—remembereth somewhat, a little,
A scheme, a fancy, a form, a word of the poet, a name.
Still, when a deeper thought, a loftier, wider and truer,
Springs in the soul and flows into life, it cannot be lost.
That which is gain'd for man is gain'd, as we trust, for ever.
That which is gain'd is gain'd. We ascend, however it be.
Here on this Planet of Man. Changes unguess'd are to come.
The New Time forgetteth the Old,—remembereth somewhat, a little,
A scheme, a fancy, a form, a word of the poet, a name.
Still, when a deeper thought, a loftier, wider and truer,
Springs in the soul and flows into life, it cannot be lost.
That which is gain'd for man is gain'd, as we trust, for ever.
That which is gain'd is gain'd. We ascend, however it be.
Blaze, pure Jewel! Shine, O Witness, pulsing to mortals
Over the gulf of space a message in echoes of light.
Dead generations beheld thee, men unborn shall behold thee,
Multitudes, foolish or wise, call thee by other words.
What was thy title of old, a beacon to wandering shepherds,
Lifted in black-blue vault o'er the wide Chaldæan plain?
What is it now, Bright Star, at the wigwams out on the prairie?
What between two pagodas at eve in the Flowery Land?
Over the gulf of space a message in echoes of light.
Dead generations beheld thee, men unborn shall behold thee,
Multitudes, foolish or wise, call thee by other words.
What was thy title of old, a beacon to wandering shepherds,
Lifted in black-blue vault o'er the wide Chaldæan plain?
What is it now, Bright Star, at the wigwams out on the prairie?
What between two pagodas at eve in the Flowery Land?
116
Roll up the sky, vast Globe! whereuntó this other, our dwelling,
Is but the cat to the lion, the stalk of grass to the palm.
Certain to eye and thought,—but a very dream cannot reach thee,
Glimpsing what larger lives may dwell in thy spacious year.
Heed they at all, for their part, our little one-moon'd planet?
Of China, India, or Hellas, or England, what do they know?
How have they named it, the spark our Earth, that we think so much of,
One faint spark among many, with moon too small to be seen?
Is but the cat to the lion, the stalk of grass to the palm.
Certain to eye and thought,—but a very dream cannot reach thee,
Glimpsing what larger lives may dwell in thy spacious year.
Heed they at all, for their part, our little one-moon'd planet?
Of China, India, or Hellas, or England, what do they know?
How have they named it, the spark our Earth, that we think so much of,
One faint spark among many, with moon too small to be seen?
O great Space—great Spheres!—great Thoughts in the Mind!—what are ye?
O little lives of men upon earth!—O Planets and Moons!
Wheel'd and whirl'd in the sweep of your measured and marvellous motion,
Smoothly, resistlessly, swung round the strength of the central Orb,
Terrible furnace of fire—one lamp of the ancient abysses,
An Infinite Universe lighted with millions of burning suns,
Boundlessly fill'd with electrical palpitant world forming ether,
Endlessly everywhere moving, concéntrating, welling-forth pow'r,
Life into countless shapes drawn upward, mystical spirit
Born, that man—even we—may commune with God Most High.
O little lives of men upon earth!—O Planets and Moons!
Wheel'd and whirl'd in the sweep of your measured and marvellous motion,
Smoothly, resistlessly, swung round the strength of the central Orb,
Terrible furnace of fire—one lamp of the ancient abysses,
An Infinite Universe lighted with millions of burning suns,
Boundlessly fill'd with electrical palpitant world forming ether,
Endlessly everywhere moving, concéntrating, welling-forth pow'r,
Life into countless shapes drawn upward, mystical spirit
Born, that man—even we—may commune with God Most High.
| Flower Pieces and other poems | |