Oracles

THE HILLS I73 So, vague as a ghost swift faded, Steals dawn, and so sunset may see How her long long locks deep-braided Fall down to her breast and her knee. So night and so sunrise discover No light and no darkness to heed. Night is above her, and brings her no lover ; And day, but no deed. Such a sense is up and within me, A tongue as of mystical fire ! Love, beauty, and holiness win me To the end of the great desire, Where I cease from the thirst and the labour, As the land that no ploughman tills Lest the robber his neighbour unloosen the sabre From holds in the hills. From love of my life and its burden Set free in the silence remote, Grows a sorrow divine for my guerdon, A peace in my struggling note. Compassion for earth far extended Beneath me, the swords and the rods, My spirit hath bended, bowed me and blended My self into God’s. But God—what divinity rises To me in the mountainous place ? What sun beyond suns, and surprises Mine eyes at the dawn of His face ?