Life and Phantasy :: :: University of Virginia Library

Her waving skirts of flowing wind
Rustled the grass and swept behind
On hanging boughs of pathside trees,
But shook no bud nor leaf from these;
Her misty robe was rich and fair,
As a mountain's clad in soft blue air;
Her breath was like the green smells of Spring
Blowing round birds to make them sing;
Her tresses' tinge faint cloudlets hold
Where sets the sun in a flame of gold,
The while her pure face stood serene
And glowing, as the sky between;
Brooks and flow'rs her feet to grace,
All the shoreless Sea of Space
Round her and above her spread,
Doming her imperial head,
Landscapes on her garment's hem,
The jewell'd night for diadem.

III.

Ever she sung a wondrous song,
Many-toned and full and strong,
Yet drawn to whisper in my ear
As though for mine alone to hear.
The dash of floods and the chime of rills
Were in it; far on misty hills
I heard the footsteps of the thunder,
And bleating sheep in pastures under.
The lark in airy glitterings
Sparkling song from his quivering wings,
The jolly thrush-notes gay and bold,
The blackbird's vesper in thicket-fold,
The rail craik-craiking through starry shadows
Over dim lawn and darkling meadows,
The carolling redbreast from roadside spray
Or garden-wall, on an Autumn day,
And the waving, rustling sea of wheat,
Foamed at its marge with meadow-sweet,
And the whispering harebell on the leas,
And the forest-harp of the playing breeze
With strings of subtly varied tone,
Came in that music, every one:
And the roar and burst of the ocean waves,
And the water-chimes in heavy caves,
And the outcast wind condemn'd to grieve
Through casement-chinks on a winter eve,
And a strange-familiar melody
Of cradle-rock and lullaby,
And purring flame on a shadowy hearth,
And hum of frost to the dreaming Earth.

IV.

I was lapt in full content
When her mouth my mother bent
Down to my cheek,—and soon I knew
Where the primrose treasures grew;

And roll'd in richer garden-mines,
Tasting scents like fairy wines;
Centred in the heavens that lie
Round Childhood's short eternity.

V.

Were they moments, were they years,
Measured out the sliding spheres—
The growing, changing, longing, dreaming,
In Me, the centre of all the seeming,
Till the hour, the hour of hours,
When she called me from my flow'rs,
When she kiss'd me on the lips,
And reveal'd from long eclipse
Fateful eyes of infinite blue
Where the living soul shone through
Like watching stars that lie soft and bright
In the violet depths of the midsummer night,
And ever still in measure sung,
While a softer spirit-tongue,
Thrilling, mystical, remote,
Echo'd every falling note,
With a ringing crystalline,
A monotony divine?

VI.

Then a strong and joyous madness,
Then a dark and heavy sadness,
Swept across my struggling brain;—
Deep the rapture, fierce the pain,
Ere I found myself again!
And the weak departing fever
Took away from me for ever
Much that memory can deplore,
Much, besides, that grieves me more,
Because my mind in vain is tost
To recollect what I have lost.

VII.

But now, to keep me from despair,
Gifts she brought, of mirrors rare,
Reflecting sea and earth and air;
Mingling with these in magic scope
Phantoms of Memory and of Hope;
Catching her ample robe of blue,
And lighting the sapphire through and through
With inner blazes that came and went
Like angels flushing the firmament;
Showing a blossom at her feet
Orbed into a sphere complete,
Full of beauty and life and power—
The careless birth of a sunny hour;
Painting one face in colour'd flame,
With the universe for frame.
Spiritual-strange did forms appear,
And the stars and the depths of heaven drew near,
And blended mystic lights and songs
With glance and voice of earthly throngs.

VIII.

What was that which lurk'd behind
To draw a fresh cloud on my mind?
For I was tempted to despise
And look upon all with unholy eyes.
My mother's pure look and royal clothing
Fill'd me with weariness and loathing;
In gentle words I began to hear
Pining, and discontent, and fear;
In louder tones a continual uttering
Of hate, and rage, and rebellious muttering
I saw an omnipotent darkness lurk
To swallow all light, all life, all work;
All growing, changing, feeling, dreaming;
And Me, the centre of all the seeming,
Lying encrusted with painful fate,
A leper at the palace-gate.

IX.

But again she stoop'd,—I feel it now,
That heavenly kiss on my scalded brow.
There were awful thunders rolling round me;
Harshest tearings of bands that bound me;
Stretchings of crampt, retorted limbs;
Agony of life, as when it brims
On the wrung-out brain of a rescued man,—
And I was saved from the crushing ban.

X.

Now I am master in my house;
Granted power to bind and loose;
In noble heirdom set at one
With princely earth and kingly sun.
And ever doth my mother keep
Steady watch the while I sleep;
In hours of sickness still she tends me,
In hours of danger still befriends me;
And with voice that rises clearly,
Sings the hymn I love so dearly,
Hymn that seems unfolding slowly
To a sense profound and holy,
Etherizing loss and gain,
And forgetting its own strain.

XI.

She hath kiss'd my cheek, my lips, my brow.
One other kiss awaits me now,
One which I shall scarcely feel,
To close mine eyes with loving seal.
Bona Dea! live or die,
Take me, keep me, thy son am I.