Blooms of the Berry Part 17

And this all in a mist-land dim and numb, Where giants reign, rude kings in holds of ice Based crag-like on high vivid frozen cliffs, The bandit castles of the Northern wastes.

Beneath the s.h.i.+mmering dance of Arctic lights, Which lamp them on, they storm to fight the G.o.ds; Swathed in their stubborn mail of sleet and snow, Embattled 'mid the clouds with fiends of ruin, In militant throng-legions scorn the G.o.ds; From yawning trumpets wrought of whirling clouds Snarl war to Thor, who, in his goat-dragged wain, Hurls thundering forth to fight their lowering troops, That lift black 'scutcheons of tempests...o...b..d, Great brands of wind, and slings of whistling storm, From which are flung their hurricanes of hail.

With such they oft withstand the strength of Thor's Dwarf-st.i.thied mace, Mjolner, when he rings To find admittance to their brains of mist, And, cleaving, drives them to their barren realms, Where echoes of lost wars and wars to be Rumble 'mid ruined icebergs to the caves, Or clang with northern shock of icy spears; While Balder, from the abyss of deathful fogs Restored, smiles kindlier on the whit'ning lands.

Here Loke is doomed to lie in tortures chained Until that last dread twilight of the G.o.ds, Wild Ragnaroke, when Odin's self shall pa.s.s: The moon and sun consumed, the fiery host From Muspelheim shall flaming split the heavens, Blot out the stars with l.u.s.tre of their arms; And down the squared legions led by Surt Swift whirl in fogs of flame to war with G.o.ds; Nor Thor avail, but suffocated fall In contest with the Midgard serpent vast.

All men and G.o.ds abolished with the world, Which into an abyss of fume and flame Sinks like a meteor of the Summer night, That slides into the gold of burning eve And with eve's gold is burning, blent and lost.

But, like an exhalation, from the wreck A new and lovelier world with juster G.o.ds And better men shall rise, and soar away On wings of Love thro' skies where Truth displays The glory of her form, Wisdom her eyes.-- Behold! the Golden Age again returns!

SEA DREAMS.

I.

Oh, to see in the night in a May moon's light A nymph from siren caves, With a crown of pearl, sea-gems in each curl Dance down white, star-stained waves!

Oh, to list in the gloam by the pearly foam Of a sad, far-sounding sh.o.r.e The strain of the sh.e.l.l of an ocean belle From caves where the waters roar!

With a hollow sh.e.l.l drift up in the moon To sigh in my ears this ocean tune:--

II.

"Wilt follow, wilt follow to caverns hollow, That echo the tumbling spry?

Wilt follow thy queen to islands green, Vague islands of witchery?

O follow, follow to grottoes hollow, And isles in a purple sea, Where rich roses twine and the lush woodbine Weaves a musky canopy!"

III.

Oh, to float in the gloam on the bubbly foam With her lily face above!

Oh, to lie in a barque and a wild song hark, And a billow-nymph to love!

I'd lie at her feet and my heart should beat To the music of her sighs; But the stars in her face my pa.s.sion should trace, Unseen all the stars of the skies.

IV.

Away, away with the witch of spray To her Aidenn islands far; And the blue above, drunk-mad with love, Dance down each singing star.

Leave, leave to the heaven its morning star In a cloud of bolted snow, To laugh at the world and herald far Our wedlock and joy below.

III.--IN THE GARDENS OF FALERINA.

FALERINA.

The night is hung above us, love, With heavy stars that love us, love, With clouds that curl in purple and pearl, And winds that whisper of us, love: On burly hills and valleys, that lie dimmer, The amber foot-falls of the moon-sylphs glimmer.

The moon is still a crescent, love; And here with thee 'tis pleasant, love, To sit and dream in its thin gleam, And list thy sighs liquescent, love: To see thy eyes and fondle thy dark tresses, Set on warm lips imperishable kisses.

The sudden-glaring fire-flies Swim o'er the hollow gyre-wise, And spurt and s.h.i.+ne like jostled wine At lips on which desire lies: Or like the out-flashed hair of elf or fairy In rapid morrice whirling feat and airy.

Up,--all the blue West sundering,-- A creamy cloud comes blundering O'er star and steep, and opening deep Grows gold with silent thundering: Gold flooding crystal crags immeasurable, Lost Avalons of old Romance and Fable.

The bee dreams in the cherry bloom That sways above the berry bloom; The katydid grates where she's hid In leafy deeps of dreary gloom: The forming dew is globing on the gra.s.ses, Like rich spilled gems of some dark queen that pa.s.ses.

The mere brief gusts are wrinkling; A thousand ripples twinkling Have caught the stars on polished spars Their rustling ridges sprinkling: And all the shadow lurking in its bosom Is touched and bursten into golden blossom.

Stoop! and my being flatter, love; With sudden starlight scatter, love, From the starry grace of thy rare face, Whose might can make or shatter, love!

Come, raiment love in love's own radiant garments.

And kindle all my soul to rapturous torments!

Bow all thy beauty to me, love, Lips, eyes, and hair to woo me, love, As bows and blows some satin rose Snow-soft and tame, that knew thee, love.

Unto the common gra.s.s, that wors.h.i.+ping cowers, Dowering its love with all her musk of flowers.

THE DREAM.

My dream was such: It seemed the afternoon Of some deep tropic day, and yet a moon Stood round and full with largeness of white gleams High in a Heaven that knew not a sun's beams; A vast, still Heaven of unremembered dreams.

Long, lawny lengths of perishable cloud Hung in a West o'er rolling forests bowed; Clouds raining colors, gold and violet That, opening, seemed from hidden worlds to let Down hints of mystic beauty and old charms Wrought of frail creatures fair with silvery forms.

And all about me fruited orchards grew Of quince and peach and dusty plums of blue; Wan apricots and apples red with fire, Kissed into ripeness by some sun's desire, And big with juice; and on far, fading hills, Down which it seemed a hundred torrent rills Flashed leaping silver, vines and vines and vines Of purple vintage swollen with cool wines; Pale pleasant wines and fragrant as the June, Their delicate life robbed from the foam-fair moon.

And from the clouds o'er this sweet world there dripp'd An odorous music strange and feverish lipped, That swung and swooned and panted in mad sighs, Invoking at each wave sad rapturous eyes Of limpid, willowy beings fair as night, Decked spangly with crisp flower-like stars of white; Dim honeyed booming of the boisterous bee In purple myriads of faint fleurs-de-lis; Of surf far-foaming on forgotten strands Of immemorial seas in fairy lands Of melting pa.s.sion, who, with crimson lips Of many sh.e.l.ls laid to each swell that dips, Sigh secret hope of unrequited love In murmurous language to wan winds above.

HAWKING.

I.

I see them still, when poring o'er Old volumes of romantic lore, Ride forth to hawk in days of yore, By woods and promontories; Knights in gold lace, plumes and gems, Maidens crowned with anadems,-- Whose falcons on round wrists of milk Sit in jesses green of silk,-- From bannered Miraflores.

II.

The laughing earth is young with dew; The deeps above are violet blue; And in the East a cloud or two Empearled with airy glories: And with laughter, jest and singing, Silver bells of falcons ringing, Hawkers, rosy with the dawn, Gayly ride o'er hill and lawn From courtly Miraflores.

III.

The torrents silver down the crags; Down dim-green vistas browse the stags; And from wet beds of reeds and flags The frightened lapwing hurries; And the brawny wild-boar peereth At the cavalcade that neareth; Oft his s.h.a.ggy-throated grunt Brings the king and court to hunt At royal Miraflores.