 | A Lost Epic and Other Poems |  |
115
KARMA.
In the heart of the white summer mist lay a green little piece of the world;
And the tops of the beeches were lost in the mist, and the mist ringed us round;
All the low leaves were silvered with dew, and the herbage with dew was impearled;
And the turmoil of life was but vaguely divined through the mist as a sound.
And the tops of the beeches were lost in the mist, and the mist ringed us round;
All the low leaves were silvered with dew, and the herbage with dew was impearled;
And the turmoil of life was but vaguely divined through the mist as a sound.
In the heart of the mist there was warmth—for the soil full of sun was aglow
Like a fruit when it colours—and fragrance from flowers and a scent from the soil;
And a lamb in the grass, in the flowers, in the dew, nibbled—whiter than snow;
And the white summer mist was a fold for us both against sorrow and toil.
Like a fruit when it colours—and fragrance from flowers and a scent from the soil;
And a lamb in the grass, in the flowers, in the dew, nibbled—whiter than snow;
And the white summer mist was a fold for us both against sorrow and toil.
116
From the fields in the mist came a bleating, a sound as of longing and need;
But the lamb from the grass in its little green heaven never lifted its head;
It was innocent, whiter than snow; it was glad in the flowers, took no heed;
But the sound from the fields in the mist made me grieve as for one that is dead.
But the lamb from the grass in its little green heaven never lifted its head;
It was innocent, whiter than snow; it was glad in the flowers, took no heed;
But the sound from the fields in the mist made me grieve as for one that is dead.
And behold! 'twas a dream I had dreamed, and a voice made me wake with a start;
Saying: “Hark! once again in the flesh shall ye twain live your life for a span,
But since whiteness of snow is as nought in mine eyes without pity of heart,
Lo! the lamb shall be born as a wolf, with a wolf's heart, but thou as a man!”
Saying: “Hark! once again in the flesh shall ye twain live your life for a span,
But since whiteness of snow is as nought in mine eyes without pity of heart,
Lo! the lamb shall be born as a wolf, with a wolf's heart, but thou as a man!”
| A Lost Epic and Other Poems | |