Young Adventure | Page 5

in one great bloom of fire. Poised like a toppling mountain, it hung bared; Suns that were jewels glared Along its hilt. The air burnt like a pyre.
Once more the genie spoke: "Something I owe To thee, thou fool, thou fool. Come, canst thou sing? Yea? Sing then; if thy song be brave, then go Free and released -- or no! Find first some task, some overmastering thing I cannot do, and find it speedily, For if thou dost not thou shalt surely die!"
The sword whirled back. The fisherman uprose, And if at first his voice was weak with fear And his limbs trembled, it was but a doze, And at the high song's close He stood up straight. His voice rang loud and clear.
The Song.
Last night the quays were lighted; Cressets of smoking pine Glared o'er the roaring mariners That drink the yellow wine.
Their song rolled to the rafters, It struck the high stars pale, Such worth was in their discourse, Such wonder in their tale.
Blue borage filled the clinking cups, The murky night grew wan, Till one rose, crowned with laurel-leaves, That was an outland man.
"Come, let us drink to war!" said he, "The torch of the sacked town! The swan's-bath and the wolf-ships, And Harald of renown!
"Yea, while the milk was on his lips, Before the day was born, He took the Almayne Kaiser's head To be his drinking-horn!
"Yea, while the down was on his chin, Or yet his beard was grown, He broke the gates of Micklegarth, And stole the lion-throne!
"Drink to Harald, king of the world, Lord of the tongue and the troth! To the bellowing horns of Ostfriesland, And the trumpets of the Goth!"
Their shouts rolled to the rafters, The drink-horns crashed and rang, And all their talk was a clangor of war, As swords together sang!
But dimly, through the deep night, Where stars like flowers shone, A passionate shape came gliding -- I saw one thing alone.
I only saw my young love Shining against the dark, The whiteness of her raiment, The head that bent to hark.
I only saw my young love, Like flowers in the sun -- Her hands like waxen petals, Where yawning poppies run.
I only felt there, chrysmal, Against my cheek her breath, Though all the winds were baying, And the sky bright with Death.
Red sparks whirled up the chimney, A hungry flaught of flame, And a lean man from Greece arose; Thrasyllos was his name.
"I praise all noble wines!" he cried, "Green robes of tissue fine, Peacocks and apes and ivory, And Homer's sea-loud line,
"Statues and rings and carven gems, And the wise crawling sea; But most of all the crowns of kings, The rule they wield thereby!
"Power, fired power, blank and bright! A fit hilt for the hand! The one good sword for a freeman, While yet the cold stars stand!"
Their shouts rolled to the rafters, The air was thick with wine. I only knew her deep eyes, And felt her hand in mine.
Softly as quiet water, One finger touched my cheek; Her face like gracious moonlight -- I might not move nor speak.
I only saw that beauty, I only felt that form There, in the silken darkness -- God wot my heart was warm!
Their shouts rolled to the rafters, Another chief began; His slit lips showed him for a Hun; He was an evil man.
"Sing to the joys of women!" he yelled, "The hot delicious tents, The soft couch, and the white limbs; The air a steam of scents!"
His eyes gleamed, and he wet his lips, The rafters shook with cheers, As he sang of woman, who is man's slave For all unhonored years.
"Whether the wanton laughs amain, With one white shoulder bare, Or in a sacked room you unbind Some crouching maiden's hair;
"This is the only good for man, Like spices of the South -- To see the glimmering body laid As pasture to his mouth!
"To leave no lees within the cup, To see and take and rend; To lap a girl's limbs up like wine, And laugh, knowing the end!"
Only, like low, still breathing, I heard one voice, one word; And hot speech poured upon my lips, As my hands held a sword.
"Fools, thrice fools of lust!" I cried, "Your eyes are blind to see Eternal beauty, moving far, More glorious than horns of war! But though my eyes were one blind scar, That sight is shown to me!
"You nuzzle at the ivory side, You clasp the golden head; Fools, fools, who chatter and sing, You have taken the sign of a terrible thing, You have drunk down God with your beeswing, And broken the saints for bread!
"For God moves darkly, In silence and in storm; But in the body of woman He shows one burning form.
"For God moves blindly, In darkness and in dread;