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ILl.u.s.tRATIONS
When she lit her glimmering tapers . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
t.i.tanic glooms of chasmed fears
Across the margent of the world I fled
I said to dawn: Be sudden
I knew how the clouds arise
Naked I wait Thy love's uplifted stroke!
Yea, faileth now even dream
The hid battlements of Eternity
Whether man's heart or life it be which yields
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside
Thunder-driven, They clanged His chariot
In her wind-walled palace
I shook the pillaring hours
And now my heart is as a broken fount
That Voice is round me like a bursting sea
[Ill.u.s.tration:
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind]
THE HOUND OF HEAVEN
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes, I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown t.i.tanic glooms of chasmed fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase, And unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat--and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet-- "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
I pleaded, out law-wise, By many a hearted cas.e.m.e.nt, curtained red, Trellised with intertwining charities (For, though I knew His love Who followed, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside); But, if one little cas.e.m.e.nt parted wide, The gust of His approach would clash it to.
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled, And troubled the gold gateways of the stars, Smiting for shelter on their clanged bars; Fretted to dulcet jars And silvern chatter the pale ports o' the moon.
I said to dawn: Be sudden; to eve: Be soon-- With thy young skyey blossoms heap me over From this tremendous Lover!
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!
I tempted all His servitors, but to find My own betrayal in their constancy, In faith to Him their fickleness to me, Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue; Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
But whether they swept, smoothly fleet, The long savannahs of the blue; Or whether, Thunder-driven, They clanged His chariot 'thwart a heaven Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet:-- Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Still with unhurrying chase, And unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, Came on the following Feet, And a Voice above their beat-- "Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me."
[Ill.u.s.tration:
Thunder-driven, They clanged His chariot 'thwart a heaven Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
I sought no more that after which I strayed In face of man or maid; But still within the little children's eyes Seems something, something that replies, _They_ at least are for me, surely for me!
I turned me to them very wistfully; But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
[Ill.u.s.tration: In her wind-walled palace]
Come then, ye other children, Nature's--share With me" (said I) "your delicate fellows.h.i.+p; Let me greet you lip to lip, Let me twine with you caresses, Wantoning With our Lady-Mother's vagrant tresses, Banqueting With her in her wind-walled palace, Underneath her azured das, Quaffing, as your taintless way is, From a chalice Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring."
So it was done; _I_ in their delicate fellows.h.i.+p was one-- Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies.
_I_ knew all the swift importings On the wilful face of skies; I knew how the clouds arise, Spumed of the wild sea-snortings; All that's born or dies Rose and drooped with; made them shapers Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine-- With them joyed and was bereaven.
I was heavy with the even, When she lit her glimmering tapers Round the day's dead sanct.i.ties.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather, Heaven and I wept together, And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine; Against the red throb of its sunset-heart I laid my own to beat, And share commingling heat; But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek.
For ah! we know not what each other says, These things and I; in sound _I_ speak-- _Their_ sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.
Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake by drouth; Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The b.r.e.a.s.t.s o' her tenderness: Never did any milk of hers once bless My thirsting mouth.
Nigh and nigh draws the chase, With unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, And past those noised Feet A Voice comes yet more fleet-- "Lo! naught contents thee, who content'st not Me."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration:
I shook the pillaring hours And pulled my life upon me]