Collected Works (Vol. III)

64 ROSA MUNDI, AND OTHER LOVE-SONGS Of mind: they roll, a rippling stream Hurrying, hurrying : hour by hour The brain throbs: shall I never rest? Ay! fora little: peace supreme Receives my head that lies a flower Borne on the mountain of thy breast. XVIT. SPEAK, O my sister, O my spouse, speak, speak ! Sigh not, but utter the intense award Of infinite love ; arise, burn cheek by cheek ! Dart, eyes of glory ; live, O lambent sword O’ the heart’s gold rushing over mount and moor Of sunlit rapture ! rise all runes above, Dissolve thyself into one molten lure, Invisible core of the visible flame of love ; Heart of the sun of rapture, whirling ever ; Strength of the sight of eagles, pierce the foam Of ecstasy’s irremeable river, And race the rhythm of laughter to its home In the heart of the woman, and evoke the light Of love out of the fiery womb of night ! XVIII. FRIENDSHIP. BETTER than bliss of floral kiss, Eternal rapture caught and held; Better than rapture’s self is this To which we find ourselves compelled, The trick of self-analysis. Thoughts fetter not true love: we weld No bands by logic: on our lips The idle metaphysic quibble Laughs: what portends the late eclipse? What oracle of the solar sybil? Orion’s signal banner dips: ‘* This is the folly of your youth, Achieving the exalted aim 3 Because you have gained a higher truth To call it by a lower name.” XIX. ROsE on the breast of the world of spring, I press my breast against thy bloom, My subtle life drawn out to thee: to thee its moods and meanings cling. I pass from change and thought to peace, woven on love’s incredible loom, Rose on the breast of the world of spring ! How shall the heart dissolved in joy take form and harmony and sing? How shall the ecstasy of light fall back to music’s magic gloom? O China rose without a tnorn, O honey-bee without a sting ! The scent of all thy beauty burns upon the wind. The deep perfume Of our own love is hidden in our hearts, the invulnerable ring. No man shall know. I bear thee down unto the tomb, beyond the tomb, Rose on the breast of the world of spring ! XX. LIE still, O love, and let there be delight ! Lie on the soft banks of ambrosial air, The roseate marble of invisible space. Secure and silent, O caressing night, We are in thee; and thou art everywhere, Lie still, and read thy soul upon my face. Swayed slowly by the wind, made crafts- men of The mystery of happiness, we lie and rock us to and fro, and to and fro. Shrined in the temple of the world, O love, We wait self-worshipped through eternity, Until ‘‘to ignore” is equal to ‘‘ to know.”