The Cup of Comus Part 8

_ON THE ROAD_

Let us bid the world good-by, Now while sun and cloud's above us, While we've nothing to deny, Nothing but our selves to love us: Let us fancy, I and you, All the dreams we dreamed came true.

We have gone but half the road, Rugged road of root and bowlder; Made the best of Life's dark load, Cares, that helped us to grow older: We, my dear, have done our best-- Let us stop awhile and rest.

Let us, by this halfway stile, Put away the world's desire, And sit down, a little while, With our hearts, and light a fire: Sing the songs that once we sung In the days when we were young.

Haply they will bring again, From the Lands of Song and Story, To our sides the elfin train Of the dreams we dreamed of glory, That are one now with the crew Of the deeds we did not do.

Here upon the road of Life Let us rest us; take our pleasure: Free from care and safe from strife, Count again our only treasure-- Love, that helped us on our way, Our companion night and day.

_RECONCILIATION_

Listen, dearest! you must love me more, More than you did before!-- Hark, what a beating here of wings!

Never at rest, Dear, in your breast!-- Is it your heart with its flutterings, Making a music, love, for us both?

Or merely a moth, a velvet-winged moth, Which out of the garden's fragrance swings, Weaving a spell, That holds the rose and the moon in thrall?-- I love you more than I can tell; And no recall How long ago Our quarrel and all!-- You say, you know, A perfect pearl grows out of--well, A little friction; tiny grain Of sand or sh.e.l.l-- So love grew out of that moment's pain, The heart's disdain-- Since then I have thought of no one but you, And how your heart would beat on mine, Like light on dew.

And I thought how foolish to fret and pine!

Better to claim the fault all mine!

To go to you and tell you that: And how stale and flat All life without you was, and vain!

And when I came, you turned and smiled, Like a darling child, And I knew from your look that, in your heart, You had followed the self-same train Of thought that made me yours again.--

Dearest! no more!-- We shall never part!-- So. Turn your face as you did before.--

I smooth your brow And kiss you.--Now....

Tell me true-- Did you miss me, dear, as I missed you?

_PORTENTS_

Above the world a glare Of sunset--guns and spears; An army, no one hears, Of mist and air: Long lines of bronze and gold, Huge helmets, each a cloud; And then a fortress old There in the night that phantoms seem to crowd.

A face of flame; a hand Of crimson alchemy Is waved: and, solemnly, At its command, Opens a fiery well, A burning hole, From which a stream of h.e.l.l, A river of blood, in frenzy, seems to roll.

And there, upon a throne, Like some vast precipice, Above that River of Dis, Behold a King! alone!

Around whom shapes of blood Take form: each one the peer Of those, who, in the wood Of Dante's h.e.l.l froze up the heart with fear.

Then shapes, that breast to breast Gallop to face a foe: And through the crimson glow Th' imperial crest Of him whose banner flies Above a world that burns, A raven in the skies, And as it flies into a Death's-Head turns.

The wild trees writhe and twist Their gaunt limbs, wrung with fear: And now into my ear A word seems hissed; A message, filled with dread, A dark, foreboding word,-- "Behold! we are the dead, Who here on Earth lived only by the sword!"

_THE IRON CRAGS_

Upon the iron crags of War I heard his terrible daughters In battle speak while at their feet, In gulfs of human waters, A voice, intoning, "Where is G.o.d?" in ceaseless sorrow beat: And to my heart, in doubt, I said, "G.o.d?--G.o.d's above the storm!

O heart, be brave, be comforted, And keep your hearth-stone warm For her who b.r.e.a.s.t.s the storm-- G.o.d's Peace, the fair of form."

I heard the Battle Angels cry above the slain's red mountains, While from their wings the lightnings hurled Of Death's destroying fountains, And thunder of their revels rolled around the ruined world: Still to my heart, in fear, I cried, "G.o.d?--G.o.d is watching there!

My heart,--oh, keep the doorway wide Here in your House of Care, For her who wanders there, G.o.d's Peace, with happy hair."

The darkness and the battle pa.s.sed: and rus.h.i.+ng on wild pinions The hosts of Havoc shrieked their hate And fled to h.e.l.l's dominions,-- And, lo! I heard, out in the night, a knocking at the gate: And one who cried aloud to me:-- "The night and storm are gone!

Oh, open wide the door and see Who waits here in the dawn!-- Peace, with G.o.d's splendor on Back to the sad world drawn!"

_THE IRON CROSS_

They pa.s.s, with heavy eyes and hair, Before the Christ upon the Cross, The Nations, stricken with their loss, And lifting faces of despair.

What is the prayer they pray to Him, Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?

The Christ, neglected, dark with moss, Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.

Is it forgiveness for great sin They plead before the Iron Cross?

Or for some gift of gold or dross?

Or battle lost, that they would win?

With eyes where hate and horror meet, They pa.s.s before the Iron Cross, The Cross, that ancient words emboss, Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.

His hair is fallen on his face.

His head hangs sidewise from the Cross-- The Crucified, who knows all loss, And had on Earth no resting place.

"O world of men," he seems to say, "Behold me on your Iron Cross!

To me why kneel and tell your loss?

Why kneel to me and weep and pray?

"Have I not taught you to forgive?

And bade you from my Iron Cross Believe, and bear your grief and loss, That after death you too may live?

"You have not followed at my call!

You keep me on this Iron Cross, And pray me keep you from all loss, And save and comfort you withal.--

"You ask for love, and hate the more!-- You keep me on this Iron Cross!-- Restore to me my greater loss, The brotherhood of rich and poor."

They pa.s.s, with weary eyes and hair, Before the Christ upon the Cross-- The Nations, wailing of their loss, And lifting faces of despair.