Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE COURT OF THE PROFANE 175 The song of stars ; the wail Of women wild and pale, Forlorn and not forsaken ; The tremulous nightingale ; The waters wan that fail By frost-love overtaken, Make sacred all the valley ; And softly, musically, The breezes lull and rally; The pine stirs and is shaken. Beneath whose sombre shade I hold a lazy maid In chaste arms and too tender. Lo! she is fair ! God said : And saw through the deep glade How sweet she was and slender. But I—could I behold her Curved shapeliness of shoulder? I, whose strong arms enfold her Trimoculate surrender. Pure as the dawns that quicken On snow-topped mountains stricken 3y first gray light that grows, 3y beams that gather, thicken, A web of fairy ticken 1 To make a fairy rose: Pure as the seas that lave With phosphorescent wave The sombre architrave Of Castle No-man-knows. Pure as the dreams, undreamt (That men have in contempt, That wise men yearn to see), Of angel forms exempt Irom mockeries that tempt Who fly about the lea ; Proclaiming things unheard, Unknown to brightest bird, Things, whose unspoken word Ts utmost secrecy. 1 A closely woven fabric. So pure, so pale we lie, Like angels eye to eye, Like lovers lip to lip. So, the elect knight, I Keep vigil to the sky, While the dumb moments slip. So she, my bride, my queen, So virginal, so keen, Swoons, while the moon-rays lean To fan their silver ship. No sleep, but precious kisses In those pale wildernesses, Mark the dead hours of night, No sleep so sweet as this is, Whose pulse of purple blisses Beats calm and cool and light. No life so fair with roses, No day so swift to close is ; No cushion so reposes Fair love so sweet and slight. MORS JANUA AMORIS. ‘* None but the dead can know the worth of love."—KELLY. IN the night my passion fancies That an incense vapour whirls, That a cloud of perfume trances With its dreamy vapour-curls All my soul, with whom their dances The one girl of morta! girls, The one girl whose wanton glances Soften into living pearls Comes, a fatal, fleeting vision, Turns my kisses to derision, Smiles upon my breast, and sighs, Flits, and laughs, and fades, and dies. By the potent starry speeches ; By the spells of mystic kings ; By the magic passion teaches ; By the strange and sacred things