 | The Testament of John Davidson |  |
33
PROLOGUE
HONEYMOON
35
I waken at dawn and your head
On the pillow beside me lies;
And I wonder although we were wed
Such an infinite fortnight ago,
“Have the planets stood still in the skies
Since my sweetheart and I were wed,
Since first I awoke, and lo,
On the pillow beside me her head!”
On the pillow beside me lies;
And I wonder although we were wed
Such an infinite fortnight ago,
“Have the planets stood still in the skies
Since my sweetheart and I were wed,
Since first I awoke, and lo,
On the pillow beside me her head!”
Through our window the wind forspent—
Marauder in garth and wild!—
His opulent burden of scent
Unloads lest he faint by the way;
For the flowers, they were subtly beguiled,
And their dewdrops and manifold scent
Perfume now the crimsoning day
On the wings of the wind forspent.
Marauder in garth and wild!—
His opulent burden of scent
Unloads lest he faint by the way;
For the flowers, they were subtly beguiled,
And their dewdrops and manifold scent
Perfume now the crimsoning day
On the wings of the wind forspent.
36
I look, and I look at your face
Till my thought of you pierces your sleep,
Till your silken lashes unlace,
And your blossomlike lids upheave,
Till your eyes emerge from the deep
As your writhen lashes unlace,
And morn and awakening weave
The wonder and joy in your face.
Till my thought of you pierces your sleep,
Till your silken lashes unlace,
And your blossomlike lids upheave,
Till your eyes emerge from the deep
As your writhen lashes unlace,
And morn and awakening weave
The wonder and joy in your face.
Then your memory quickens and bids
A blush and a happy sigh
At the lift of your azure lids,
A concord of colour and sound;
And there dawns in your violet eye,
When you open your flowerlike lids,
A thought from the depths profound
As an exqusite memory bids.
A blush and a happy sigh
At the lift of your azure lids,
A concord of colour and sound;
And there dawns in your violet eye,
When you open your flowerlike lids,
A thought from the depths profound
As an exqusite memory bids.
And this is your twentieth year,
And your bridegroom is twenty-one;
And our thoughts are as fragrant and clear
As the lucent splendour of noon.
My love is as rich as the sun,
And your love is as tender and clear
As the lily-light of the moon
In the sweetest month of the year.
And your bridegroom is twenty-one;
And our thoughts are as fragrant and clear
As the lucent splendour of noon.
My love is as rich as the sun,
And your love is as tender and clear
As the lily-light of the moon
In the sweetest month of the year.
37
At once when we waken we rise,
For the earth is as fresh as our thought,
And the heaven-high dome of the skies
A miracle constantly new:
A marvel diurnally wrought,
The earth with its seas and its skies,
Its flowers and its matinal dew,
Awaits us as soon as we rise.
For the earth is as fresh as our thought,
And the heaven-high dome of the skies
A miracle constantly new:
A marvel diurnally wrought,
The earth with its seas and its skies,
Its flowers and its matinal dew,
Awaits us as soon as we rise.
Through the woodland and over the lea
That dips to a golden strand,
Like fugitives seeking the sea
We haste in our morning mood;
Together and hand in hand,
We hurry to reach the sea
Through the purple shade of the wood,
And over the spangled lea.
That dips to a golden strand,
Like fugitives seeking the sea
We haste in our morning mood;
Together and hand in hand,
We hurry to reach the sea
Through the purple shade of the wood,
And over the spangled lea.
In our boat on the swell of the tide
We steer for the heart of morn,
And I say to you, “Sweet and my bride,
Should hope be for ever undone,
Should destiny leave us forlorn,
Thus, thus shall we journey, my bride,
Right into the heart of the sun
On the morning or evening tide.”
We steer for the heart of morn,
And I say to you, “Sweet and my bride,
Should hope be for ever undone,
Should destiny leave us forlorn,
Thus, thus shall we journey, my bride,
Right into the heart of the sun
On the morning or evening tide.”
38
Could we harbour with sorrow and care,
And friendless, in penury lost,
Remain at the beck of despair
Like prisoners or impotent folk?
Could we chaffer and reckon the cost,
And measure out love till despair
Subdued us, bereft, to a yoke
In harness with sorrow and care?
And friendless, in penury lost,
Remain at the beck of despair
Like prisoners or impotent folk?
Could we chaffer and reckon the cost,
And measure out love till despair
Subdued us, bereft, to a yoke
In harness with sorrow and care?
O, not while the morning is crowned,
And the evening, with roses and gold;
Because like adventurers bound
For a kingdom their faith could create
In a future of beauty untold—
Like hazardous mariners bound
For the haven and wharf of Fate
On a voyage with happiness crowned,
And the evening, with roses and gold;
Because like adventurers bound
For a kingdom their faith could create
In a future of beauty untold—
Like hazardous mariners bound
For the haven and wharf of Fate
On a voyage with happiness crowned,
In our boat when the day is done,
On the lift of the evening tide
I should steer for the heart of the sun,
And sigh with my ebbing breath,
“Be resolute, sweet and my bride;
We shall sink with the setting sun,
And shelter our love in death
Since our beautiful day is done.”
On the lift of the evening tide
I should steer for the heart of the sun,
And sigh with my ebbing breath,
“Be resolute, sweet and my bride;
We shall sink with the setting sun,
And shelter our love in death
Since our beautiful day is done.”
39
But now while our hearts beat high
With youth and unfolding delight,
And the honeymoon in the sky
At her zenith usurps the reign
Of the day as well as the night—
With the honeymoon in the sky
We steer for the shore again
While our bosoms with hope beat high.
With youth and unfolding delight,
And the honeymoon in the sky
At her zenith usurps the reign
Of the day as well as the night—
With the honeymoon in the sky
We steer for the shore again
While our bosoms with hope beat high.
Through the tasselled oats and the wheat
We march to the skylark's song,
Where the roses, pallid and sweet,
In delicate pomp parade
The precincts the wild bees throng—
Where the winding byways, sweet
With scent of the roses wade
Through the flowing tide of the wheat.
We march to the skylark's song,
Where the roses, pallid and sweet,
In delicate pomp parade
The precincts the wild bees throng—
Where the winding byways, sweet
With scent of the roses wade
Through the flowing tide of the wheat.
O hark from the meadows! O hear
The burden the mower sings!
The past, how it hovers near
This uttermost isle of the sea!
Where the stone on the sickle rings
The shadowy past draws near,
And the spirit of eld set free
Revives in the song we hear.
The burden the mower sings!
The past, how it hovers near
This uttermost isle of the sea!
Where the stone on the sickle rings
The shadowy past draws near,
And the spirit of eld set free
Revives in the song we hear.
40
The dawn and the dusk are crowned
With chaplets of roses and gold;
We two are invincibly bound
For a kingdom our faith can create
In a present of beauty untold:
O love, we are certainly bound
For the ultimate haven of Fate
On a voyage with happiness crowned!
With chaplets of roses and gold;
We two are invincibly bound
For a kingdom our faith can create
In a present of beauty untold:
O love, we are certainly bound
For the ultimate haven of Fate
On a voyage with happiness crowned!
| The Testament of John Davidson | |