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The Garden of Dreams
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And the dreams of folly and wisdom
That thoughts of the spirit don,
Are but masks of an ancient sorrow
Of a life long dead and gone.
Was it sin? or a crime forgotten?
Of a love that loved too well?
That sat on a throne of fire
A thousand years in hell?
That the soul with its nameless sorrow
Remembers but can not tell?
TWO
With her soft face half turned to me,
Like an arrested moonbeam, she
Stood in the cirque of that deep tree.
I took her by the hands; she raised
Her face to mine; and, half amazed,
Remembered; and we stood and gazed.
How good to kiss her throat and hair,
And say no word! – Her throat was bare;
As some moon-fungus white and fair.
Had God not giv'n us life for this?
The world-old, amorous happiness
Of arms that clasp, and lips that kiss!
The eloquence of limbs and arms!
The rhetoric of breasts, whose charms
Say to the sluggish blood what warms!
Had God or Fiend assigned this hour
That bloomed, – where love had all of power, —
The senses' aphrodisiac flower?
The dawn was far away. Nude night
Hung savage stars of sultry white
Around her bosom's Ethiop light.
Night! night, who gave us each to each,
Where heart with heart could hold sweet speech,
With life's best gift within our reach.
And here it was – between the goals
Of flesh and spirit, sex controls —
Took place the marriage of our souls.
TONES
I
A woman, fair to look upon,
Where waters whiten with the moon;
While down the glimmer of the lawn
The white moths swoon.
A mouth of music; eyes of love;
And hands of blended snow and scent,
That touch the pearl-pale shadow of
An instrument.
And low and sweet that song of sleep
After the song of love is hushed;
While all the longing, here, to weep,
Is held and crushed.
Then leafy silence, that is musk
With breath of the magnolia-tree,
While dwindles, moon-white, through the dusk
Her drapery.
Let me remember how a heart,
Romantic, wrote upon that night!
My soul still helps me read each part
Of it aright.
And like a dead leaf shut between
A book's dull chapters, stained and dark,
That page, with immemorial green,
Of life I mark.
II
It is not well for me to hear
That song's appealing melody:
The pain of loss comes all too near,
Through it, to me.
The loss of her whose love looks through
The mist death's hand hath hung between:
Within the shadow of the yew
Her grave is green.
Ah, dream that vanished long ago!
Oh, anguish of remembered tears!
And shadow of unlifted woe
Athwart the years!
That thoughts of the spirit don,
Are but masks of an ancient sorrow
Of a life long dead and gone.
Was it sin? or a crime forgotten?
Of a love that loved too well?
That sat on a throne of fire
A thousand years in hell?
That the soul with its nameless sorrow
Remembers but can not tell?
TWO
With her soft face half turned to me,
Like an arrested moonbeam, she
Stood in the cirque of that deep tree.
I took her by the hands; she raised
Her face to mine; and, half amazed,
Remembered; and we stood and gazed.
How good to kiss her throat and hair,
And say no word! – Her throat was bare;
As some moon-fungus white and fair.
Had God not giv'n us life for this?
The world-old, amorous happiness
Of arms that clasp, and lips that kiss!
The eloquence of limbs and arms!
The rhetoric of breasts, whose charms
Say to the sluggish blood what warms!
Had God or Fiend assigned this hour
That bloomed, – where love had all of power, —
The senses' aphrodisiac flower?
The dawn was far away. Nude night
Hung savage stars of sultry white
Around her bosom's Ethiop light.
Night! night, who gave us each to each,
Where heart with heart could hold sweet speech,
With life's best gift within our reach.
And here it was – between the goals
Of flesh and spirit, sex controls —
Took place the marriage of our souls.
TONES
I
A woman, fair to look upon,
Where waters whiten with the moon;
While down the glimmer of the lawn
The white moths swoon.
A mouth of music; eyes of love;
And hands of blended snow and scent,
That touch the pearl-pale shadow of
An instrument.
And low and sweet that song of sleep
After the song of love is hushed;
While all the longing, here, to weep,
Is held and crushed.
Then leafy silence, that is musk
With breath of the magnolia-tree,
While dwindles, moon-white, through the dusk
Her drapery.
Let me remember how a heart,
Romantic, wrote upon that night!
My soul still helps me read each part
Of it aright.
And like a dead leaf shut between
A book's dull chapters, stained and dark,
That page, with immemorial green,
Of life I mark.
II
It is not well for me to hear
That song's appealing melody:
The pain of loss comes all too near,
Through it, to me.
The loss of her whose love looks through
The mist death's hand hath hung between:
Within the shadow of the yew
Her grave is green.
Ah, dream that vanished long ago!
Oh, anguish of remembered tears!
And shadow of unlifted woe
Athwart the years!
Другие электронные книги автора Madison Cawein
Последний отзыв
Книгу прочитать не могу, везде ЛитРес свой нос сунул, как и где скачать полную версию бесплатно!?!?