 | The point of view (some talks and disputations) |  |
VII
Alas, my words ring flat and tame,
And you? For you how speaks the night?
Dark as Time's purpose? Still the same?
Or pierced with light?
And you? For you how speaks the night?
Dark as Time's purpose? Still the same?
Or pierced with light?
You answer, yet I cannot hear,
For ancient waves betwixt us roll,
And—sundering hearts however near—
The evasive soul!
For ancient waves betwixt us roll,
And—sundering hearts however near—
The evasive soul!
Even as now, while you and I
Stroll back along these ferny glades,
Their furtive earlier inmates fly
To deeper shades,
Stroll back along these ferny glades,
Their furtive earlier inmates fly
To deeper shades,
33
So, smit with viewless fears and shames,
Each soul to its own covert hies,
Nor once its hidden self proclaims,
But silent dies.
Each soul to its own covert hies,
Nor once its hidden self proclaims,
But silent dies.
We wait the embracing Unity;
In dreams alone that silent call
Steals earthwards 'cross infinity
To us; to all.
In dreams alone that silent call
Steals earthwards 'cross infinity
To us; to all.
Oh longed-for end of human tasks.
Yet,—tireless rebel-born, fierce Soul—
Will thy rash spirit bend, one asks,
Even to that Whole?
Yet,—tireless rebel-born, fierce Soul—
Will thy rash spirit bend, one asks,
Even to that Whole?
Fond question! Here the summer swings
Her garlands; nights like these prolong
Their beauty, and the linnet sings
Her daybreak song,
Her garlands; nights like these prolong
Their beauty, and the linnet sings
Her daybreak song,
For you. For me. Oh dull and dead,
Unfit to share so fair a fate,
To walk where shows like these are spread
For those who wait;
Unfit to share so fair a fate,
To walk where shows like these are spread
For those who wait;
Who wait in laughter, wait in tears,
Lover by lover, friend by friend,
Yet each alone; while slowly nears
The accomplished end.
Lover by lover, friend by friend,
Yet each alone; while slowly nears
The accomplished end.
34
See the dusk deepens! Turn again,
River and forest now are still,
Some new-come presence seems to reign
O'er dale and hill.
River and forest now are still,
Some new-come presence seems to reign
O'er dale and hill.
Some pitying spirit seems to call,
Stretching a kind, if viewless, hand
Towards you, towards me, and over all
This tear-washed land.
Stretching a kind, if viewless, hand
Towards you, towards me, and over all
This tear-washed land.
This small, sad, much-loved speck of earth,
Of mother-earth, who holds her way,
Bowed 'neath what load of pain, death, birth,
Through Night towards Day.
Of mother-earth, who holds her way,
Bowed 'neath what load of pain, death, birth,
Through Night towards Day.
| The point of view (some talks and disputations) | |