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…ngs out the lordlier cry, Vibrating through the streams that flow In ether to the sky, The moving archipelago, Stars in their seigneury. Thine be the kingdom ! Thine the power ! The glory triply thine ! Thine, through Eternity’s swift hour, Eternity, thy shrine— Yea, by the holy lotus-flower, Even mine !
110 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. O visionary valley of my Soul ! When shall thy beauty, even thine, be made As pure and mighty as these hills that roll In mist and sun and shade ? O thou ! the Highest ! make my will as thine, My consciousness, the consciousness divine !
38 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. SONNET FOR GERALD KELLY’S JEZEBEL. IFT up thine head, disastrous Jezebel ! Fire and black stars are melted in thine hair That curls to Hell, as in Satanic prayer ; Thy mouth is heavy with its riper smell Than clustered pomegranates beside a well ; The cruel savour of thy lust lies there, That blood may tinge thy kisses unaware To fill thy children with the hope of Hell. O evil beauty ! Heart of mystery Wherein my being toils, and in the blood Mixed with thy poison finds its subtle food, Intoxicating my divinity ! Disdainf…
…h my distress. The flowers are dull, the stars are pale. I am the Soul of Nothingness. I cannot lift the golden veil. O Mother Isis, let thine eyes Behold my grief, and sympathise ! I cannot round the perfect wheel, Attain not to the fuller end. In part I love, in part I feel, Know, worship, will, and comprehend. O Mother Nephthys, fill me up Thine own perfection’s deadly cup ! My aspiration quails within me ; “ My heart is fixed,” in vain I cry ; The little loves and whispers win me : “ Eli, lama sabacthani ! ” O Chomse, moon-god, grant thy bo…
…e, the arms that hold, Even the infinite brain : that spirit seeks A loftier dawn of more ephemeral gold— Ephemeral, and eternal : droop thine head, O God ! for thou must suffer this : I said ! Droop thy wide pinions, O thou mortal God ! Sink thy vast forehead, and let Life consume The miserable life thy feet have trod Beneath them, that thine own life in its doom Fall, in its resurrection to arise ; Stoop, that its holier hope may cleave the skies.
…moment is a single span, Whose small desire is nothing—and thy power Must root from out his bosom the fair flower Of passion ! Listen to thine own voice yet : “ A rich man many flocks and herds did get, “ And took the poor man’s lamb.” Thou art the man ! Our love must lie beneath thy bitter ban ! Thou petty, envious God ! My king, be sure His brute force shall not to the end endure ; Some stronger soul than thine shall wrest his crown And thrust him from his own high heaven down To some obscure forgetful hell. For me Forsake thy hopes in him. W…
…ord ? Where are thy plumes, beloved melancholy, Familiar bird ? O emerald star, deep beauty’s avatar, Are thy skies dim ? What throne is thine above ? Where is the crown of thee—thy sevenfold star, My heart of love ? Then from the clinging mist there came a singing, A dirge re-echoes to the poet prayer : “ I am their child to whom thy soul is clinging, I am Despair ! ”
… rent passion and desire withdrawn Burns in the East the far ephemeral gold. O Wisdom ! Mother of my sorrow ! Rise ! And lift my love to thine immortal eyes ! S
…f thy white spirit’s reign, Thou man of Sorrows : O, beyond belief ! Let God's own Peace be with thee : let thy days Prosper in spite of thine unselfish soul ; And as thou lovest, so let Love increase Upon thee and about thee : till thy ways Gleam with the splendour of that secret goal Whose long war grows the great abiding peace. O
…spake and said : “ Welcome, O Man, to Death ! Thy little span of life is sped, Sighed out thy little breath. The worm that never dies is thine ; the fire that lingereth ! ” “ Three voices has thy frame, Their music is but one. Fool-demon, slave of night and shame, That canst not see the sun ! I am the Lord thy God : make thou homage and orison ! ” The wild heads sank in fear : Then, troubled, to those eyes Remembrance crept of many a year, Barred gates of Paradise. Again the Voice rolled in the deep, mingled with murmuring sighs : “ I mind me o…
…ith vain despairing arms. The silence as a serpent is, The rustle of the world alarms. O Horus, Light in Darkness, bless My failure with thine own success ! My suffering is keen as theirs That in Amenti taste of death ; Not mine own pains create these prayers : For them I claim the living Breath. O Lord Osiris, bend and bring All winters to thy sign of Spring ! Poor folly mine : I cannot see Save from one corner of one star ! So many millions over me ; So many, and the next, how far !
118 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. Power, power, and power ! O single sacrifice On thine own altar : let thy savour steam Up, through the domes of broken Paradise ; Up, by Euphrates’ unimagined stream ; Up, by strange river and mysterious lawn To some impossible diadem of dawn ! So the mere orderly ruling of events Shall change and blossom to a finer flower Until it serve to worlds and elements For aspiration in the nobler hour— Not mere repression, but the hope and crown Of fallen hierarchies no more cast down. O misery of triple love and grief And hope …
…, but living as divine, A priest, a king, an oracle, a shrine, A saviour ! Yet my misty spirit conned The secret murmur : “ Gereth, I am thine ! ” I must have listened to the voice of hell. The earthly horror wove its serpent spell Against the Beauty of the World : I heard Desolate voices cry the doleful word “ Unready ! ” All the soul invisible Of that vast desert echoed, and concurred. The voices died in mystery away. I passed, confounded, lifeless as the clay, Somewhere I knew not. Many a dismal league Of various terror wove me its intrigue,…
…e these gone down into the West ? “ Even I myself—my youth within me said : Go, seek this folly ; fear not for the dead, And God is with thine arm. I reached the ridge, And saw the river and the ghastly bridge I told you of. Even then, even there, I fled. Nor knight, nor king—a miserable midge ! “ Yet from my shame I dare not turn and run. My oath grows urgent as my days are done. Almost mine hour is on me : for its sake I tell you this, as if my heart should break, The infinite desire—a burning sun. The listening fear—the sun-devouring snake !…
…de Of my intention. Onward ! Let me run ! Thy steed, O Moon ! Thy chariot, O Sun ! Lend me fierce feet, winged sandals, wings as wide As thine, O East wind ! And the goal is won ! Was ever such a cruel solitude ? Up rears the pillar. Quaintly shaped and hued, It focussed all the sky and all the plain To its own ugliness. I looked again, And saw its magic in another mood. A shapeless truth took image in my brain.
…ice rolls forth With miserable fury from that stream Of horror : “ Thou hast called me by the beam Of glory, by the devastating wrath Of thine accurséd godhead : tell me then My Name ! Thou hardiest of the Sons of Men ! ” “ Thy name is—stay ! thou liest ! I discern In Thee no terror that my spells evoke. Begone, thou wandering corpse of night ! return Into thy shadowy world ! My symbols burn Against thee, shade of terror ! Go ! ” It spoke : “ Yea ! I am human. Know my actual truth : I am that ghost, the father of thy youth ! ” “ Poor wandering …