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Page 1 of 11905 · PDF PAGE 7
…n ! In vain 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,
1905 · PDF PAGE 11
6 In mine, and mine in thine. Peace, ye who praise ! ye but disturb the shrine ! This voice is evil over against the peace Here in the West, the holiest. Shaken and crossed The threads Lachesis wove fell from her hands. The pale divided strands Where taken by thy master-hand, Eros ! Her evil thinkings cease, Thy miracles begin. Eros ! Eros ! Be silent ! It is sin Thus to invoke the oracles of order Their iron gates to unclose. The gross, inhospitable warder Of Loves green garden of spice is well awake. Hell hath enough of Her three-heade…
1905 · PDF PAGE 13
8 So thine 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 passi…
1905 · PDF PAGE 8
…ad, This head no more a poets . Ay ! the dream Of beauty gathered close into a stream Of tingling light, and, gathering ever force From thine own love, its unextended source, Became the magic utterance that makes Me, Dissolving self into the starless sea That makes one lake of molten joy, one pond Steady as light and hard as diamond ; One drop, one atom of constraint intense, Of elemental passion scorning sense, All the concentred music that is I. O ! hear me not ! I die ; I am borne away in misery of dumb life