Collected Works (Vol. II)

THE TRIADS OF DESPAIR 35 Into their lustre as they move the light of all the sky. I am so faint for utter love I sigh and long to die. Far on the misty ocean’s verge flares out the Southern Cross, And the long billows on the marge of coral idly toss, This night of nights! lustre dusk or dim. Twin love-birds on the land complain, a wistful happy hymn. I turn my face toward the main: I laugh and dive and swim. The stars disdain a Now fronts me foaming all the light of surf- bound waters pent ; Now from the black breast of the night the Southern Cross is rent. I top the mighty wall of fears; the dark wave rolls below. A tall swift ship on wings appears, a cataract of snow Plunging before the white east wind; she meets the eager sea As forest green by thunder thinned meets fire’s emblazonry. Then I sink back upon the breast of mighty- flinging foam, Ride like a ghost upon the crest, the silver- rolling comb ; Float like a warrior to his rest, majestically home. But oh! my soul, what seest thou, whose eyes are open wide? What thoughts inspire me idling now, lone on the lonely tide? Here in the beauty of the place, hope laughs and says me nay ; In nature’s bosom, in God’s face, I read Decay, Decay. Here in the splendour of the Law that built the eternal sphere, Beauty and majesty and awe, I fail of any cheer. Here, in caprice, in will divine, I see no perfect peace ; Here,in the Law’s impassive shrine, no hope is of release. All things escape me, all repine, all alter, ruin, cease. I], But thou, O Lord, O Apollo, Must thou utterly change and pass? Thy light be lost in the hollow? Thy face as a maid’s in a glass Go out and be lost and be broken - As the face of the maid is withdrawn, And thy people with sorrow unspoken ~ Wait, wait for the dawn? But thou, O Diana, our Lady, Shall it be as if never had been? The vales of the sea grown shady And silver and amber and green As thy light passed over and kissed them? Shall thy people lament thee and swoon, And we miss thee if thy love missed them, Awaiting the moon ? But thou, who art Light, and: above them, Who art fire and above them as fire, Shall thy sightless eyes not love them Who are all of thine own desire? Immaculate daughters of passion, Shalt thou as they pass be past? And thy people bewail thee, Thalassian, Lost, lost at the last? Ill. Nay, ere ye pass your people pass,. As snow on summer hills, As dew upon the grass, As one that love fulfils, If he in folly wills Love a lass. Yet on this night of smiles and tears A maiden is the theme. The universe appears An idle summer dream Lost in the grey supreme Mist of years.