Collected Works (Vol. III)

130 ORPHEUS The voice of thy singing descended, Rolled round me and wrapped me in mist, Some sense of thy being, borne splendid; I dreamed, I desired, I was kissed. Some breath from thy music hath bound me ; Some tune from thy lyre hath found me. Thy words are as rushing of fire ; But I know not the lilt of thy lyre :— Thy voice is as deep as the sea ; Thy music is darkness to me. CALLIOPE. Child of Thracian sire, on me begotten,. Knowest thou not the laughter and the life ? Knowest thou not how all things are for- gotten, — . | Being with a maiden wife ? How a subtle sense of inmost being Wraps thee in, and cuts the world away ; Sight and sound lose hearing and lose seeing, All the night is one with all the day ? Hearken to her sighing ! Life droops down as dying, Melting in the clasp of amorous limbs and hair; All the darkening world Round about ye furled— Dost thou know, or, knowing, dost thou care ? ant. B. ORPHEUS. Mother, I have lain, half dead, half slumber- ing, Curtained in Eurydice her hair ; Clothed in serpent kisses, souls outnumbering Dewdrops flung in spray through air. I have lain and watched the night diminish, Fade and fall into the arms of day, Caring not if earth itself should finish, Caring only if my lover stay ; Listening to her breathing, Laughing, lover-weaving All the silken gold and glory of her head, Kissing as if time Forgot its steeps to climb, Made eternity’s, one with all the dead. Str. Y- CALLIOPE. Listen, then listen, O Thracian ! Oeager lay on the lea: I, from my heavenly station ; I, from my house of creation, Stooped, as a mortal to be Passionate, mother and bride ; Flashed on wide wing to his side, Caught him and drew him to me. Kisses not mortal I lavished ; Out of the life of him ravished Life for the making of thee. Son, did I lose in the deed? Son, did the breasts of me bleed, Bleed for pure love? Did I see Zeus with his face through the thunder Frowning with fury and wonder? Love in Olympus is free— T have created a god, not a mortal of mortal degree. Ant. y. ORPHEUS. Hear me, O mother, descended To earth, from the sisterly shrine ! Hear me, a mortal unfriended, Save thou, in thy purity splendid Indwell me, invoke the divine! As sunlight enkindles the ocean, As moonlight shakes earth with emotion, As starlight shoots trembling in wine, So be thy soul for a man ! Teach my young fingers to span That musical lyre of thine ! Passion and music and peace, Teach me the singing of these ! Teach me the tune of the vine ! Teach me the stars to resemble, As tide-stricken sea-cliffs to tremble Thy strings, as the wind-shaken pine ! Let these and their fruits and the soul of their being be mine, very mine!