Collected Works (Vol. I)

48 SONGS OF THE SPIRIT THE STORM. In the storm that divides the wild night from the passionate kiss of the morn- ing Stands there a tower by the sea un- shaken by wave and by wind ; Lightning assails, and the sea breaks-vain on the battlements, scorning Even to fling back the foam shattered before and behind ; Save for one window its height rears up unbroken and blind. tere may a man gaze out to the night by the stars of it stricken, Out to the blind black air that the lightning divides, and is dumb; Ifere, and look back in the tower’ where pallid shades murmur and quicken : Low laughs leap in the silence, sink to a sigh ere there come, Far from the feet of the storm, a pulse like the beat of a drum. Throbs the wild sound through the storm, and the wings of it waken and quiver, Only the watcher, unmoved, looks on the face of the night ; Sees the strong hosts that unite, a fervent implacable river Foaming from heaven and hell, two armies of crimson and white ; Flecked is the sky with their blood shed as by sabres of light. Now they are clutching his arms, the phantoms that throng there behind him, Foul and distorted, whose sight may not on men ever dawn ; Now they entice and entreat, nowstrive with fresh fury to bind him, Cords that are cut by an angel whose sword is unceasingly drawn, Glitters, and bids them fall back as if struck by the eye of the morn. Would he but turn he should see a woman laid naked before him, Stretching her arms to his breast, reach- ing her lips to his face, Lips that should grant but one kiss ere the demons descended and tore him Limb from wet limb, and devoured, and bore his stained soul into space Far from the regions of hope and the lands that are holy with grace. Alway the battle proceeds and alway the tempest re-quickens, Pregnant with thunder, delivered when the swift knife is let flash ; Alway the wind has its will and the slaughter- steam rises and thickens ; Alway the sea is a lion, enraged by the wind and its lash; . Alway the heavens resound with the thunder’s reverberate crash. Heaven has conquered, behold! and the hosts of the demons are fleeing; Dawn drives before her fair feet the feather- light wings of the gale ; Silent the tower rears aloft its front into beauty and seeing. Only the window is dark; only there hangs like a veil Sleep on the chamber and clings. I a woman-fiend wail? Heard I the sound of a kiss? Has man been destroyed in the daylight, Man whom the night could not quell? What angel fled weeping away? ‘There in the East there extends a white light devouring the grey light, There the sun rises and brings hope with the dawn of the day. Silence hides certainty—surely voices of angels that pray, Surely the sound of delight, and of praise, and unspeakable glory Rings in the wind like a bell, and wakes the white air of the lea; All the bright sea is aflame, and the caps of it, golden or hoary, Leap in the light of the sun, in the light of the eyes of the sea. Triumph is born like a flower, and the soul of the adept is free. Heard