A Midsummer Holiday and Other Poems | Page 8

arose

Above them, higher than heavenliest thought may find

In light or night supreme
Of vision or of dream,
Immeasurable of
men's eyes or mounting mind,
Heaven, manifest in manifold
Light
of pure pallid amber, cheered with fire of gold.
XIX.
And where the fine gold faded all the sky
Shone green as the outer
sea when April glows,
Inlaid with flakes and feathers fledged to fly

Of cloud suspense in rapture and repose,
With large live petals, broad
as love bids lie
Full open when the sun salutes the rose,
And small
rent sprays wherewith the heavens most high
Were strewn as autumn
strews the garden-close
With ruinous roseleaves whirled
About their wan chill world,

Through wind-worn bowers that now no music knows,
Spoil of the dim dusk year
Whose utter night is near,
And near the
flower of dawn beyond it blows;
Till east and west were fire and light,

As though the dawn to come had flushed the coming night.
XX.
The highways paced of men that toil or play,
The byways known of
none but lonely feet,
Were paven of purple woven of night and day

With hands that met as hands of friends might meet--
As though
night's were not lifted up to slay
And day's had waxed not weaker.
Peace more sweet
Than music, light more soft than shadow, lay
On
downs and moorlands wan with day's defeat,
That watched afar above
Life's very rose of love
Let all its lustrous
leaves fall, fade, and fleet,
And fill all heaven and earth
Full as with fires of birth
Whence time
should feed his years with light and heat:
Nay, not life's, but a flower
more strong
Than life or time or death, love's very rose of song.

XXI.
Song visible, whence all men's eyes were lit
With love and loving
wonder: song that glowed
Through cloud and change on souls that
knew not it
And hearts that wist not whence their comfort flowed,

Whence fear was lightened of her fever-fit,
Whence anguish of her
life-compelling load.
Yea, no man's head whereon the fire alit,
Of
all that passed along that sunset road
Westward, no brow so drear,
No eye so dull of cheer,
No face so
mean whereon that light abode,
But as with alien pride
Strange godhead glorified
Each feature
flushed from heaven with fire that showed
The likeness of its own
life wrought
By strong transfiguration as of living thought.
XXII.
Nor only clouds of the everlasting sky,
Nor only men that paced that
sunward way
To the utter bourne of evening, passed not by
Unblest
or unillumined: none might say,
Of all things visible in the wide
world's eye,
That all too low for all that grace it lay:
The lowliest
lakelets of the moorland nigh,
The narrowest pools where shallowest
wavelets play,
Were filled from heaven above
With light like fire of love,
With
flames and colours like a dawn in May,
As hearts that lowlier live
With light of thoughts that give
Light
from the depth of souls more deep than they
Through song's or story's kindling scroll,
The splendour of the
shadow that reveals the soul.
XXIII.

For, when such light is in the world, we share,
All of us, all the rays
thereof that shine:
Its presence is alive in the unseen air,
Its fire
within our veins as quickening wine;
A spirit is shed on all men
everywhere,
Known or not known of all men for divine.
Yea, as the
sun makes heaven, that light makes fair
All souls of ours, all lesser
souls than thine,
Priest, prophet, seer and sage,
Lord of a subject age
That bears thy
seal upon it for a sign;
Whose name shall be thy name,
Whose light thy light of fame,
The
light of love that makes thy soul a shrine;
Whose record through all
years to be
Shall bear this witness written--that its womb bare thee.
XXIV.
O mystery, whence to one man's hand was given
Power upon all
things of the spirit, and might
Whereby the veil of all the years was
riven
And naked stood the secret soul of night!
O marvel, hailed of
eyes whence cloud is driven,
That shows at last wrong reconciled
with right
By death divine of evil and sin forgiven!
O light of song,
whose fire is perfect light!
No speech, no voice, no thought,
No love, avails us aught
For
service of thanksgiving in his sight
Who hath given us all for ever
Such gifts that man gave never
So
many and great since first Time's wings took flight.
Man may not
praise a spirit above
Man's: life and death shall praise him: we can
only love.
XXV.
Life, everlasting while the worlds endure,
Death, self-abased before a
power more high,
Shall bear one witness, and their word stand sure,


That not till time be dead shall this man die
Love, like a bird,
comes loyal to his lure;
Fame flies before him, wingless else to fly.

A child's heart toward his kind is not more pure,
An eagle's toward
the sun no lordlier eye.
Awe sweet as love and proud
As fame, though hushed and bowed,

Yearns toward him silent as his face goes by:
All crowns before his crown
Triumphantly bow down,
For pride
that one more great than all draws nigh:
All souls applaud, all