Whym Chow: Flame of Love By Michael Field [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. | VI.
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| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
 | Whym Chow: Flame of Love |  |
16
VI.
[What is the other name of Love?]
What is the other name of Love?
Has Love another name?
Yea, one that, when he came
To his Creator's feet-above,
Met his lone ear and thrilled
His grievous want, and filled
The chamber of his birth with new live fire.
Has Love another name?
Yea, one that, when he came
To his Creator's feet-above,
Met his lone ear and thrilled
His grievous want, and filled
The chamber of his birth with new live fire.
“Response, my Answer” was God's cry.
O gift of joy to hear
The Godhead's welcome clear.
As heart to heart the vast
Desires were gathered fast—
Love as the source of Love, Love the Reply.
O gift of joy to hear
The Godhead's welcome clear.
As heart to heart the vast
Desires were gathered fast—
Love as the source of Love, Love the Reply.
Response! O little Love, O little Chow!
O Answer! What is Love's most answering bliss?
What is Love's happiness alert but this
To welcome? And thy rage of welcome how
Should words tell dim—the bound,
The dances round and round,
As if the sun had come down carrying love
Instead of light, with all his rays and power,
With the wild spinning of his heat above,
And in thy body had his hour
Of cabriole and circle on the ground!
What beating of fine, little feet!
What slouch of ears like banners drooped
To the great Victor all the soul would greet!
Thy tail—the thyrse of flame that Delphi knew,
Thy dance—such dance as on Cithæron tossed!
Thy cries as circling sea-birds mew;
Thy stretched paws the defiance of all fear,
With the adored in sight and near
To touch and smell—the fine nose stooped
In midst of ecstacy to prove it sure,
Not a vain presence in its visit lost:
Athwart thine eyes the fierceness of a gem,
That drowns its flashes and then rescues them,
Casting on lucent gold about them set
Magnificence still with doom's flooding wet—
Eyes that no separation could enure
To loss of their one love, their utter fate.
O Chow, the glory and the gold-furred state
That smote beyond the strength of any verse,
And all its pride in gold, even to rehearse—
The state that surged around a daily chance,
If thy Beloved should enter: in thy Dance
A worship; in thy light, a universe.
O Answer! What is Love's most answering bliss?
What is Love's happiness alert but this
To welcome? And thy rage of welcome how
Should words tell dim—the bound,
The dances round and round,
As if the sun had come down carrying love
Instead of light, with all his rays and power,
With the wild spinning of his heat above,
And in thy body had his hour
Of cabriole and circle on the ground!
What beating of fine, little feet!
17
To the great Victor all the soul would greet!
Thy tail—the thyrse of flame that Delphi knew,
Thy dance—such dance as on Cithæron tossed!
Thy cries as circling sea-birds mew;
Thy stretched paws the defiance of all fear,
With the adored in sight and near
To touch and smell—the fine nose stooped
In midst of ecstacy to prove it sure,
Not a vain presence in its visit lost:
Athwart thine eyes the fierceness of a gem,
That drowns its flashes and then rescues them,
Casting on lucent gold about them set
Magnificence still with doom's flooding wet—
Eyes that no separation could enure
To loss of their one love, their utter fate.
O Chow, the glory and the gold-furred state
That smote beyond the strength of any verse,
And all its pride in gold, even to rehearse—
The state that surged around a daily chance,
If thy Beloved should enter: in thy Dance
A worship; in thy light, a universe.
| Whym Chow: Flame of Love | |