Astrophel and Other Poems Part 3

As the darkness of thought and of pa.s.sion is touched by the light that gives Life deathless as love from the depth of a spirit that sees and lives, From the soul of a seer and a singer, wherein as a scroll unfurled Lies open the scripture of light and of darkness, the word of the world, So, shapeless and measureless, lurid as anguish and haggard as crime, Pale as the front of oblivion and dark as the heart of time, The wild wan heaven at its height was a.s.sailed and subdued and made More fair than the skies that know not of storm and endure not shade.

The grim sea-swell, grey, sleepless, and sad as a soul estranged, Shone, smiled, took heart, and was glad of its wrath: and the world's face changed.

V

Up from moorlands northward gleaming Even to heaven's transcendent height, Clothed with ma.s.sive cloud, and seeming All one fortress reared of night, Down to where the deep sea, dreaming Angry dreams, lay dark and white, White as death and dark as fate, Heaving with the strong wind's weight, Sad with stormy pride of state, One full rainbow shone elate.

Up from inmost memory's dwelling Where the light of life abides, Where the past finds tongue, foretelling Time that comes and grace that guides, Power that saves and sways, compelling Souls that ebb and flow like tides, Shone or seemed to s.h.i.+ne and swim Through the cloud-surf great and grim, Thought's live surge, the soul of him By whose light the sun looks dim.

In what synod were they sitting, All the G.o.ds and lords of time, Whence they watched as fen-fires flitting Years and names of men sublime, When their counsels found it fitting One should stand where none might climb-- None of man begotten, none Born of men beneath the sun Till the race of time be run, Save this heaven-enfranchised one?

With what rapture of creation Was the soul supernal thrilled, With what pride of adoration Was the world's heart fired and filled, Heaved in heavenward exaltation Higher than hopes or dreams might build, Grave with awe not known while he Was not, mad with glorious glee As the sun-saluted sea, When his hour bade Shakespeare be?

VI

There, clear as night beholds her crowning seven, The sea beheld his likeness set in heaven.

The shadow of his spirit full in sight Shone: for the shadow of that soul is light.

Nor heaven alone bore witness: earth avowed Him present, and acclaimed of storm aloud.

From the arching sky to the ageless hills and sea The whole world, visible, audible, was he: Each part of all that wove that wondrous whole The raiment of the presence of his soul.

The sun that smote and kissed the dark to death Spake, smiled, and strove, like song's triumphant breath; The soundless cloud whose thunderous heart was dumb Swelled, lowered, and shrank to feel its conqueror come.

Yet high from heaven its empire vast and vain Frowned, and renounced not night's reluctant reign.

The serpentine swift sounds and shapes wherein The stainless sea mocks earth and death and sin, Crawls dark as craft, or flashes keen as hate, Subdued and insubmissive, strong like fate And weak like man, bore wrathful witness yet That storms and sins are more than suns that set; That evil everlasting, girt for strife Eternal, wars with hope as death with life.

The dark sharp s.h.i.+fting wind that bade the waves Falter, lose heart, bow down like foes made slaves, And waxed within more bitter as they bowed, Baffling the sea, swallowing the sun with cloud, Devouring fast as fire on earth devours And hungering hard as frost that feeds on flowers, Clothed round with fog that reeked as fume from h.e.l.l, And darkening with its miscreative spell Light, glad and keen and splendid as the sword Whose heft had known Oth.e.l.lo's hand its lord, Spake all the soul that h.e.l.l drew back to greet And felt its fire shrink shuddering from his feet.

Far off the darkness darkened, and recoiled, And neared again, and triumphed: and the coiled Colourless cloud and sea discoloured grew Conscious of horror huge as heaven, and knew Where Goneril's soul made chill and foul the mist, And all the leprous life in Regan hissed.

Fierce homeless ghosts, rejected of the pit, From h.e.l.l to h.e.l.l of storm fear watched them flit.

About them and before, the dull grey gloom Shuddered, and heaven seemed hateful as the tomb That shrinks from resurrection; and from out That sullen h.e.l.l which girt their shades about The nether soul that lurks and lowers within Man, made of dust and fire and shame and sin, Breathed: all the cloud that felt it breathe and blight Was blue as plague or black as thunderous night.

Elect of h.e.l.l, the children of his hate Thronged, as to storm sweet heaven's triumphal gate.

The terror of his giving rose and shone Imminent: life had put its likeness on.

But higher than all its horrent height of shade Shone sovereign, seen by light itself had made, Above the woes of all the world, above Life, sin, and death, his myriad-minded love.

From landward heights whereon the radiance leant Full-fraught from heaven, intense and imminent, To depths wherein the seething strengths of cloud Scarce matched the wrath of waves whereon they bowed, From homeborn pride and kindling love of home To the outer skies and seas of fire and foam, From splendour soft as dew that sundawn thrills To gloom that shudders round the world it fills, From midnights murmuring round t.i.tania's ear To midnights maddening round the rage of Lear, The wonder woven of storm and sun became One with the light that lightens from his name.

The music moving on the sea that felt The storm-wind even as snows of springtide melt Was blithe as Ariel's hand or voice might make And bid all grief die gladly for its sake.

And there the soul alive in ear and eye That watched the wonders of an hour pa.s.s by Saw brighter than all stars that heaven inspheres The silent splendour of Cordelia's tears, Felt in the whispers of the quickening wind The radiance of the laugh of Rosalind, And heard, in sounds that melt the souls of men With love of love, the tune of Imogen.

VII

For the strong north-east is not strong to subdue and to slay the divine south-west, And the darkness is less than the light that it darkens, and dies in reluctant rest.

It hovers and hangs on the labouring and trembling ascent of the dawn from the deep, Till the sun's eye quicken the world and the waters, and smite it again into sleep.

Night, holy and starry, the fostress of souls, with the fragrance of heaven in her breath, Subdues with the sense of her G.o.dhead the forces and mysteries of sorrow and death.

Eternal as dawn's is the comfort she gives: but the mist that beleaguers and slays Comes, pa.s.ses, and is not: the strength of it withers, appalled or a.s.suaged by the day's.

Faith, haggard as Fear that had borne her, and dark as the sire that begat her, Despair, Held rule on the soul of the world and the song of it saddening through ages that were; Dim centuries that darkened and brightened and darkened again, and the soul of their song Was great as their grief, and sublime as their suffering, and strong as their sorrows were strong.

It knew not, it saw not, but shadows triune, and evoked by the strength of their spell Dark h.e.l.l, and the mountain of anguish, and heaven that was hollower and harder than h.e.l.l.

These are not: the womb of the darkness that bare them rejects them, and knows them no more: Thought, fettered in misery and iron, revives in the light that it lived in of yore.

For the soul that is wisdom and freedom, the spirit of England redeemed from her past, Speaks life through the lips of the master and lord of her children, the first and the last.

Thought, touched by his hand and redeemed by his breath, sees, hears, and accepts from above The limitless lightnings of vision and pa.s.sion, the measureless music of love.

A SWIMMER'S DREAM

NOVEMBER 4, 1889

_Somno mollior unda_

I

Dawn is dim on the dark soft water, Soft and pa.s.sionate, dark and sweet.

Love's own self was the deep sea's daughter, Fair and flawless from face to feet, Hailed of all when the world was golden, Loved of lovers whose names beholden Thrill men's eyes as with light of olden Days more glad than their flight was fleet.

So they sang: but for men that love her, Souls that hear not her word in vain, Earth beside her and heaven above her Seem but shadows that wax and wane.

Softer than sleep's are the sea's caresses, Kinder than love's that betrays and blesses, Blither than spring's when her flowerful tresses Shake forth sunlight and s.h.i.+ne with rain.

All the strength of the waves that perish Swells beneath me and laughs and sighs, Sighs for love of the life they cherish, Laughs to know that it lives and dies, Dies for joy of its life, and lives Thrilled with joy that its brief death gives-- Death whose laugh or whose breath forgives Change that bids it subside and rise.

II

Hard and heavy, remote but nearing, Sunless hangs the severe sky's weight, Cloud on cloud, though the wind be veering Heaped on high to the sundawn's gate.

Dawn and even and noon are one, Veiled with vapour and void of sun; Nought in sight or in fancied hearing Now less mighty than time or fate.

The grey sky gleams and the grey seas glimmer, Pale and sweet as a dream's delight, As a dream's where darkness and light seem dimmer, Touched by dawn or subdued by night.

The dark wind, stern and sublime and sad, Swings the rollers to westward, clad With l.u.s.trous shadow that lures the swimmer, Lures and lulls him with dreams of light.

Light, and sleep, and delight, and wonder, Change, and rest, and a charm of cloud, Fill the world of the skies whereunder Heaves and quivers and pants aloud All the world of the waters, h.o.a.ry Now, but clothed with its own live glory, That mates the lightning and mocks the thunder With light more living and word more proud.

III

Far off westward, whither sets the sounding strife, Strife more sweet than peace, of sh.o.r.eless waves whose glee Scorns the sh.o.r.e and loves the wind that leaves them free, Strange as sleep and pale as death and fair as life, s.h.i.+fts the moonlight-coloured suns.h.i.+ne on the sea.

Toward the sunset's goal the sunless waters crowd, Fast as autumn days toward winter: yet it seems Here that autumn wanes not, here that woods and streams Lose not heart and change not likeness, chilled and bowed, Warped and wrinkled: here the days are fair as dreams.

IV

O russet-robed November, What ails thee so to smile?

Chill August, pale September, Endured a woful while, And fell as falls an ember From forth a flameless pile: But golden-girt November Bids all she looks on smile.

The l.u.s.trous foliage, waning As wanes the morning moon, Here falling, here refraining, Outbraves the pride of June With statelier semblance, feigning No fear lest death be soon: As though the woods thus waning Should wax to meet the moon.

As though, when fields lie stricken By grey December's breath, These lordlier growths that sicken And die for fear of death Should feel the sense requicken That hears what springtide saith And thrills for love, spring-stricken And pierced with April's breath.

The keen white-winged north-easter That stings and spurs thy sea Doth yet but feed and feast her With glowing sense of glee: Calm chained her, storm released her, And storm's glad voice was he: South-wester or north-easter, Thy winds rejoice the sea.

V