Collected Works (Vol. II)

AHAB 127 I gave to her the signet’'s gold Carved in the secret charactery, Whose flowers of writing bend and fold The star of Solomon, the eye Whence four rays run—the Name! the seal Written within the burning wheel. And now I lean with fevered will Across the carven screen of palm. All nature holds its function still ; The sun is mild; the wind is calm ; But on my ear the voices fall Distant, and irk me, and appal. Two men have sworn the solemn oath : ‘‘God and the king this dog blasphemed,” Two judges, just, though little loth, Weigh, answer. As on one who dreamed Comes waking—in my soul there groaned : ‘* Carry forth Naboth to be stoned !”’ Nine days! And still the king is sad, And hides his face, and is not seen. The tenth ! the king is gaily clad ; The king will banquet with the queen ; And, ere the west be waste of sun, Enjoy the vineyard he hath won. All this I hear as one entranced. The king and I are friend and friend, As if a cloud of maidens danced Between my vision and the end. I see the king as one afeared, Hiding his anguish in his beard, J laugh in secret, knowing well What waits him in the field of blood ; What message hath the seer to tell; What bitter Jordan holds its flood (‘nly for Ahab, sore afraid What lurks behind the vine’s cool shade. Yet—weli I see—the fates are sure, And Ahab will descend, possess The enchanting green, the purple lure, The globes of nectared loveliness, And, as he turns ! who wonders now ihe grim laugh wrinkles on my brow? I see him, a fantastic ghost, The vineyard smiling white and plain, And hiding ever innermost The little shadow on his brain ; I laugh again with mirthless glee, As knowing also I am he. A fool in gorgeous attire ! An ox decked bravely for his doom ! So step I to the great desire. Sweet winds upon the gathering gloom Bend like a mother, as I go, Foreknowing, to my overthrow. NEW YEAR, 1903. O FRIENDS and brothers! Hath the year deceased, And ye await the bidding to fare well? How shall ye fare, thus bound of fate in hell? How, whom no light hath smitten, and released ? Ye trust perchance in God, or man, or priest ? Ay! Let them serve you, let them save you ! Spell The name that guards the human citadel, And answer if your course hath checked or ceased. Path of the eightfold star ! Be thou revealed ! Isle of Nirvana, be the currents curled About thee, that the swimmer touch thy shore ! Thought be your sword, and virtue be your shield ! ress on! Who conquers shall for evermore Pass from the fatal mischief of the world. MELUSINE. TO M. M. M. HANGS over me the fine false gold Above the bosom epicene That hides my head that hungereth. The steady eyes of steel behold, When on a sudden the fierce and thin Curledsubtle mouth swoopson my breath,