THE RITE OF SOL
Its love beneath the fronds ; reply to strife
With strife, and all its tiny being crumble
Under my rough and warrior husband-kiss,
Whose pain shall burn, and alter, and be bliss!
I am: no word beside that solemn one
Reigns in sound’s kingdom to express my station,
Who, clothed and crowned with suns beyond the sun,
Bear on the mighty breast of foam Thalassian,
Bear on my bosom, jutting plenilune,
Maiden, the fadeless Rose of the Creation !
The whole flower-life of earth and sky and sea
From me was born, and shall return to me!
I am: for men and beings passionate,
For mine own self calm as the river-cleaving
Lotus—barne lord of Silence:
I create
Or discreate, both in my bosom heaving :
My lightest look is mother ofa Fate:
My fingers sapphire-ringed with sky are weaving
Ever new flowers and lawns of life, designed
Nobler and newer in mine older mind,
I am: I am not, but all-changing move
The worlds evolving in a golden ladder,
Spiral or helical, fresh gusts of love
Filling one sphere from the last sphere grown gladder;
All gateways leading far to the above.
Even as the bright coils of the emerald adder
Climb one by one in glory of sunlight, climb
My children to me up the steep of Time.
I am
: before me all the years are dead,
And all the fiery locks of sunrise woven
Into the gold and scarlet of my head :
In me all skies and seas are shaken and eleven :
All life and light and love about me shed,
Begotten in me, in my moving moven,
Are as my tears
: all worlds that ever swam
As dew of kisses on my lips: I am.
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