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…s, Draws me to thee with every dream that glows, Poet, each word ; maiden, each burden of snows Extending beyond sunset, beyond dawn ! O Rose, inviolate, utterly withdrawn In the truth : for this is truth : Love knows ! Ah ! Rose of the World ! Rose ! Rose !
…n flesh Lies the fair fresh Delight of Love ; not in mere lips and eyes The secret of these bridal ecstasies, Since thou art everywhere, Rose of the World, Rose of the Uttermost Abode of Glory, Rose of the High Host Of heaven, mystic, rapturous Rose ! The extreme passion glows Deep in this breast ; thou knowest (and love knows) How every word awakes its own reward In a thought akin to thee, a shadow of thee ; And every tune evokes its musical Lord ; And every rhyme tingles and shakes in me The filaments of the great web of Love. O Rose all rose…
…truth, we do not know. It may be in the centuries of our life Since we were man and wife There stirs some incarnation of that love. Some rosebud in the garden of spices blows, Some offshoot from the Rose Of the World, the Rose of all Delight, The Rose of Dew, the Rose of Love and Night, The Rose of Silence, covering as with a vesture The solemn unity of things
Rose of the World ! Red glory of the secret heart of Love ! Red flame, rose-red, most subtly curled Into its own infinite flower, all flowers above ! Its flower in its own perfumed passion, Its faint sweet passion, folded and furled In flower fashion ; And my deep spirit taking its pure part Of that voluptuous heart Of hidden happiness ! Arise, strong bow of the young child Eros ! (While the maddening moonlight, the memoried caress Stolen of the scented rose Stirs me and bids each racing pulse ache, ache !) Bend into an agony of art Whose cry i…
9 Far from the central pearl Of all the diadem of the universe ? Let God take pen, rehearse Dull nursery tales ; then, not before, O rose, Red rose ! shall the belovd of thee, Infinite rose ! pen puerile poetry That turns in writing to vile prose. Were this the quintessential plume of Keats And Shelley and Swinburne and Verlaine, Could I outsoar them, all their lyric feats, Excel their utterance vain With one convincing rapture, beat them hollow As an asss skin ; wert thou, Apollo, Mere slave to me, not Lord thy fieriest flight And stat…
11 Beheld in the mirror of truth, The Rose indifferent to Gods gesture, The Rose on moonlight wings That flies to the House of Fire, The Rose of Honey-in-Youth ! Ah ! No dim mystery of desire Fathoms this gulph ! No light invades The mystical musical shades Of a faith in the future, a dream of the day When athwart the dim glades Of the forest a ray Of sunlight shall flash and the dew die away ! Let there then be obscurity in this ! There is an after rapture in the kiss. The fire, flesh, perfume, music, that outpaced All time, fly off ; the…
…hine eternal petals shall enclose Me, O most wonderful lady of delight, Immaculate, indivisible circle of night, Inviolate, invulnerable Rose ! The sound of my own voice carries me on. I am as a ship whose anchors are all gone, Whose rudder is held by Love the indomitable Purposeful helmsman ! Were his port high Hell, Who should be fool enough to care ? Suppose Hells waters wash the memory of this rose Out of my mind, what misery matters then ? Or, if they leave it, all the woes of men Are as pale shadows in the glory of That passionate sple…
13 O living Rose ! O dowered with subtle dew Of love. The tiny eternities of time, Caught between flying seconds, are well filled With these futilities of fragrant rhyme : In Loves retort distilled, In sunrays of fierce loathing purified, In moonrays of pure longing tried, And gathered after many moons of labour Into the compass of a single day : And wrought into continuous tune, One laughter with one langour for its neighbor, One thought of winter with one word of June, Muddled and mixed in mere dismay, Chiselled with the cunning chisel o…
…in the solemn stars pour their pale dews Upon my trembling spirit ; their caress Leaves me moon-rapt in waves of loveliness All thine, O rose, O wrought of many a muse In Music, O thou strength of ecstasy Incarnate in a woman-form, create Of her own rapture, infinite, ultimate, Not to be seen, not grasped, not even imaginable, But known of one, by virtue of that spell Of thy sweet will toward him : thou, unknown, Untouched, grave mistress of the sunlight throne Of thine own nature ; known not even of me,
7 Of myriad fools provoke the Crowned-with-Night Hidden beyond sound and sight In the mystery of His own high essence ? Lo, Rose of all the gardens of the world, Did thy most sacred presence Not fill the Real, then this voice were whirled Away in the wind of its own folly, thrown Into forgotten places and unknown. So I sing on ! Sister and wife, dear wife, Light of my love and lady of my life, Answer if thou canst from the unsullied place, Unveiling for one star-wink thy bright face ! Did we leave then, once cognisant, Time for some Fear to…
3 But of some spark of woven eternity Immortal in this bosom. Phosphor paled And in the grey upstarted the dread veiled Rose light of dawn. Sunshapen shone thy spears Of love forth darting into myriad spheres, Which I the poet called this light, that flower, This knowledge, that illumination, power This and love that, in vain, in vain, until Thy beauty dawned, all beauty to distil Into one drop of utmost dew, one name Choral as floral, one thin, subtle flame Fitted to a shaft of love. O bear me far Up and up yet to where thy sacred star Bur…