Rampolli | Page 2

in its azure
flood; the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant,
and the wild, burning, multiform beast-world inhales it; but more than
all, the lordly stranger with the meaning eyes, the swaying walk, and
the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it
rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds
innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly
substance. Its presence alone reveals the marvellous splendour of the
kingdoms of the world.
Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the
world, sunk in a deep grave; waste and lonely is its place. In the chords
of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of
dew, and mingle with the ashes.--The distances of memory, the wishes
of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a
whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapour after the
sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents: what if it
should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of
innocence?

What springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart, and stills the
soft air of sadness? Dost thou also take a pleasure in us, dusky Night?
What holdest thou under thy mantle, that with hidden power affects my
soul? Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies.
Thou upliftest the heavy-laden pinions of the soul. Darkly and
inexpressibly are we moved: joy-startled, I see a grave countenance that,
tender and worshipful, inclines toward me, and, amid manifold
entangled locks, reveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother. How
poor and childish a thing seems to me now the light! how joyous and
welcome the departure of the day!--Didst thou not only therefore,
because the Night turns away from thee thy servants, strew in the gulfs
of space those flashing globes, to proclaim, in seasons of thy absence,
thy omnipotence, and thy return?
More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes
which the Night hath opened within us. Farther they see than the palest
of those countless hosts. Needing no aid from the light, they penetrate
the depths of a loving soul that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable.
Glory to the queen of the world, to the great prophetess of holier worlds,
to the foster-mother of blissful love! she sends thee to me, thou
tenderly beloved, the gracious sun of the Night. Now am I awake, for
now am I thine and mine. Thou hast made me know the Night, and
brought her to me to be my life; thou hast made of me a man. Consume
my body with the ardour of my soul, that I, turned to finer air, may
mingle more closely with thee, and then our bridal night endure for
ever.
II.
Must the morning always return? Will the despotism of the earthly
never cease? Unholy activity consumes the angel-visit of the Night.
Will the time never come when Love's hidden sacrifice shall burn
eternally? To the Light a season was set; but everlasting and boundless
is the dominion of the Night. Endless is the duration of sleep. Holy
Sleep, gladden not too seldom in this earthly day-labour, the devoted
servant of the Night. Fools alone mistake thee, knowing nought of
sleep but the shadow which, in the gloaming of the real night, thou

pitifully castest over us. They feel thee not in the golden flood of the
grapes, in the magic oil of the almond tree, and the brown juice of the
poppy. They know not that it is thou who hauntest the bosom of the
tender maiden, and makest a heaven of her lap; never suspect it is thou,
the portress of heaven, that steppest to meet them out of ancient stories,
bearing the key to the dwellings of the blessed, silent messenger of
secrets infinite.
III.
Once when I was shedding bitter tears, when, dissolved in pain, my
hope was melting away, and I stood alone by the barren hillock which
in its narrow dark bosom hid the vanished form of my Life, lonely as
never yet was lonely man, driven by anguish unspeakable, powerless,
and no longer aught but a conscious misery;--as there I looked about
me for help, unable to go on or to turn back, and clung to the fleeting,
extinguished life with an endless longing: then, out of the blue
distances, from the hills of my ancient bliss, came a shiver of twilight,
and at once snapped the bond of birth, the fetter of the Light. Away fled
the glory of the world, and with it my mourning; the sadness flowed
together into a new, unfathomable world. Thou, soul of the Night,