Perpetual Light | Page 7

to me, I felt its power endue
An archangelic shape,
whose phantom stride
Rhymed with our own who walked as man and
wife.
Light fell upon us from the glimmering moon,
And light upon his
face whose name is Love.
Ah, the rapt eyes, the tender, quickening
gaze,
The splendor on that wild immortal face!
Then hurrying cloud
possessed the heavens, and soon
I saw his shadow darken from

above.
Beyond our own it stretched along the way,
The darkness of Death's
cowl, more deep than night.
Gulfing our own, it blotted out the road,

The shadow of Love that brightest dreams forebode.
Yet, in my
soul I found a thing to say:
"Though darkness go before, we walk in
light.
"This is Love's answer!" For Death's night must move
Onward before
two hearts that cast out fear,
Joined by the closest of immortal bonds.

They shall speak truth when prayer to prayer responds,
"Death but
precedes us as the shadow of Love.
Light falls about us from a surer
sphere!"
LOVE IN THE DAWN
Dawn, with hallowed flame, seemed to sing your name
Through our
open window as the golden glory came.
Ardor thrilled me through;
Dawn again--with you!
"Up and at the world again! The world is
made anew!"
Newly on my sight flashed the lovely light,
All the ringing roads of
fame glittered broad and bright.
On again! with new visions to pursue;

And dawn again, dawn again, dawn again--with you!
Other dawns may keep joy as pure and deep?
Dawns of greater
splendor may awaken me from sleep?
Nay! they never can bless a
stubborn man
Like the dawn, the wonder-dawn with which this day
began!
Oh, my deeds must take triumph for its sake!
Loud my heart shall
sing it while the mind remains awake:
Words I never knew could so
thrill me through--
Dawn again, dawn again, dawn again--with you!
"HAD I A CLAIM TO FAME?"

Had I a claim to fame?
Little to honor;
Save when I spoke her name,

Gazing upon her.
Then was I crowned of men,
More than my
seeming.
Youth's glorious hope again
Bannered my dreaming.
So, when our day is past;
When we lie stilly
Under the earth at last,

Clod by white lily.
Give me neither tear nor sigh;
Breath but this
in passing by,
Where empearled with morning dew
The high grass
above her
Waves, and above me too,--
"He was her lover!"
THE ONE
You are that belovèd thing
Which, through all my seeking
In
silence or in speaking,
I would find, and finding sing!
You are that belovèd air
Which, o'er all the chiming
Of music or of
rhyming,
Reconciles my long despair.
You are that belovèd sight
Which, beyond life's fairest
Or rich
beauty's rarest,
Fills my heart with true delight.
You are that belovèd place
Where, past all the portals
To the pomp
of mortals,
Love perceives the courts of grace,
And what splendors more,--ah, well!
Though I often fashion
Songs
of praise and passion,
Now--I look--but cannot tell!
DREAM AND DEED
All day long I am fashioning crowns,
Crowns of great price for you!

What do I fashion them of?
Opals and pearls of the dew,

Diamonds of old renowns,
Blazing rubies of love,
And gold from
the heart of the golden sun, brought down
by a sunset djinn,--
Brighter gold, purer gold than ever gleamed under
Andvari's fin!

All day long I am tempering swords,
Swords for my thought to wield!

What is the steel I true,
And how is their splendor annealed?

High dreams, to slay evil hordes,
And flaming thoughts of you
That
light my dark heart from their white-hot forge--
a glory to take one's breath--
Like the dove-gray, rose-faint veils of
faith you wind
round the skull of death!
But when was a sword or a crown
For praise or for honor meet,

When the truth transcends, and sees
Knighthood kneeling at your feet?

In the darkness they go down!
There is better trust in these:
Set
teeth, and the furious will to strive through the dust
of the world for you;
The hardly builded house of deeds each day,
that must
prove me true!
A TAPER OF INCENSE
You are a bannered balcony
Of God's heraldic house,
Waving
above the dinning throng of the days
Pennants of purple and
oriflammes of crimson
And cloths of gold.
Your varying device is
on every shining shield
Of the brilliant row that flames beneath the
eaves
Of that house whose street is cobbled with silver clouds.
The days go down that street, the troops of days
Dark and bright,
tramping to tread the earth.
Ever, with trumpets and tumult, rigor or
laughter,
They pass saluting, to press upon the world,
Regiment
after regiment unnumbered.
Your beauty is a balcony hung with banners
To wave them on. The
foremost have sent your name
Echoing rearward to hearten new
battalions.
Your beauty is the sunset's streaming flag,
It is the vivid

standard of the dawn
Flapping over dazed dream-voyagers
That
kneel on new sun-pooled, mysterious strands.
It wasted the moon to
pallor, set the sun
Pulsing with burning blood--it shattered the mind

Of heaven into stars.
The beauty of your spirit has sent the winds
Eternally sighing, and
sharpened the cold ache
Of the heart-broken, incessantly-sobbing sea.

It has scattered its sparks in the hearts of silken flowers And has
raised the frozen fury of glaciers against the