Ambergris

AMBERGRIS 137 FROM ORPHEUS The Star-Goddess sings of Orpheus dead Enough. It is ended, the story Of magical æons of song ; The sun is gone down in his glory To the Houses of Hate and of Wrong. Would ye see if he rise ? In Hesperian skies Ye may look for his rising for long. The magical æon beginneth Of song in the heart of desire, That smiteth and striveth and sinneth, But burns up the soul of the lyre :— There is pain in the note :— In the sorcerer’s throat Is a sword, and his brain is afire ! Long after (to men : but a moment To me in my mansion of rest) Is a sundawn to blaze what the glow meant Seen long after death in the west ; A magical æon ! Nor love-song nor pæan, But a flame with a silvery crest. There shall rise a sweet song of the soul Far deeper than love or distress ; Beyond mortals and gods shall it roll ; It shall find me, and crave, and caress. Ah ! me it shall capture In torrents of rapture ; It shall flood me, and fill, and possess.