Orpheus

Long, tender, rays of night ; my subtle face Burns through the sky-dusk, lightens, fills, and flashes With solemn joy and laughter of love; the grace Of all my body swaying stoops and dashes Swift to the daisy’s dawn of love: and swiftest, O spirit of man, when unto me thou liftest! Dawn shakes the molten fire of my delight From the fine flower and fragrance of my tresses! Sunset bids darken all my body’s light, Mixing its music with the sad caresses Of the whole world: I wheel in wingless flight Through lampless space, the starless wildernesses! Beyond the universal bounds that roll, There is the shrine and image of my soul. Nature my name is called. O fruitless veil Of the strange self of its own self begotten ! O vision laughterless! O shadowy tale! O brain that halts before its thought forgotten ! Once all ye knew me—ere the earth grew pale, And Time began, and all its fruit lay rotten, Once, when thou knewest me indeed, and fed At these strong breasts—Ah! but the days are dead ! Now, in the dusty corridors of Time, I am forgotten: Gaian language falters If I would teach thee half an hint sublime Shed of the rayless fire upon my altars. IO]