Collected Works (Vol. III)

60 ROSA MUNDI, AND OTHER LOVE-SONGS Inscrutable darkness through the storm Loomed out, with broidered features of gold: its form Wing-like lay on the firmaments, River-like curves in all its movements Swift from inertia of vast voids rolled, stirred Gigantic for roar of strepitation : whirred The essential All That was Her veil: her voice I had heard Had not large sobbing fears surged; will and word Fall Down from the black pearls of the night, down, back To night’s impearléd black ; Down, from chryselephantine wall And rose-revolving ball, Doomed, fierce through Saturn’s aeons to tear, Fraught with the glory of a dead despair. VIII. FLAVIA. I KISSED the face of Flavia fair, In the deep wet dews of dawn, And the ruddy weight of my lover’s hair Fell over me and held me there On the broad Italian lawn. And the bright Italian moon arose And cleft the cypress grove ; For sadness in all beauty grows, And sorrow from its master knows How to appear like love. Alas ! that Flavia’s gentle kiss, And Flavia’s cool caress, And Flavia’s flower of utter bliss Must fade, must cease, must fall and miss The height of happiness. The moon must set, the sun must rise, The wind of dawn is chill. Oh, in this world of miseries Is one hour’s pleasure ill to prize? Is love the means of ill? Oh, if there were a God to hear ! Or Christ had really given His life! Or did a Dove appear Bearing a rosebud, we might fear Or hope for hell or heaven. Alas! no sign is given. But short Bliss of the earth is ours ; The kiss that stops the avenging thought ; The furtive passion shrewdly caught Between the summer flowers. So, Flavia, till the dawn awake Cling close, cling close, as this is ! While moonlight lingers on the lake, Our present happiness we’ll take And fill the night with kisses ! IX. KATIE CARR. "Twas dark when church was out! moon Was low on Rossett Ghyll;? The organ’s melancholy tune Grew subtle, far, and still. the All drest in black, her white, white throat Like moonlight gleamed ; she moved Along the road, towards the farm, Too happy to be loved. ‘‘O Katie Carr! how sweet you are!” She only hurried faster: She found an arm about her waist: A maiden knows her master. Through grass and heather we walked to- gether ; So hard her heart still beat She thought she saw a ghost, and fast Flickered the tiny feet. ‘“*O Katie Carr, there’s one stile more! For your sweet love I’m dying. There’s no one near ; there’s nought to fear.” The lassie burst out crying. 1 A pass in Cumberland.