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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:21 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:21 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30225-0.txt b/30225-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87a1d85 --- /dev/null +++ b/30225-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2111 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30225 *** + +MANY GODS + + +OTHER BOOKS BY +CALE YOUNG RICE + + Nirvana Days + Yolanda of Cyprus + Plays and Lyrics + A Night in Avignon + Charles di Tocca + David + + + + +MANY GODS + +BY + +CALE YOUNG RICE + +NEW YORK +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +MCMX + + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910 + + +TO + +FINIS KING FARR + +AN OLD + +AND DEAR COMRADE + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PAGE + +"ALL'S WELL" 3 + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS 6 + +LOVE IN JAPAN 10 + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA 13 + +TYPHOON 15 + +PENANG 17 + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW 20 + +THE PAGODA SLAVE 22 + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA 25 + +KINCHINJUNGA 26 + +THE BARREN WOMAN 29 + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL 32 + +LOVE'S CYNIC 35 + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN 42 + +THE WIND'S WORD 46 + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES 47 + +FROM A FELUCCA 48 + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES 49 + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE 50 + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER 52 + +A SONG OF THE SECTS 54 + +THE CITY 57 + +VIA AMOROSA 58 + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA 60 + +THE WANDERER 61 + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN 64 + +FAR FUJIYAMA 65 + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN 66 + +OLD AGE 68 + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG 69 + +THE SEA-ARMIES 71 + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE 73 + +THE PARSEE WOMAN 75 + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL 77 + +PRINCESS JEHANARA 79 + +A CINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT 80 + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF 83 + +THE RAMESSID 84 + +IMMORTAL FOES 85 + +THE CONSCRIPT 87 + +NAVIS IGNOTA 89 + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE 91 + +THE NUN 92 + +ALPINE CHANT 94 + +THE MAN OF MIGHT 96 + +IN TIME OF AWE 97 + +SUNRISE IN UTAH 99 + +CONSOLATION 100 + +WAVES 102 + +VIS ULTIMA 104 + +MEREDITH 106 + + + + +MANY GODS + + + + +"ALL'S WELL" + + +I + +The illimitable leaping of the sea, +The mouthing of his madness to the moon, +The seething of his endless sorcery, +His prophecy no power can attune, +Swept over me as, on the sounding prow +Of a great ship that steered into the stars, +I stood and felt the awe upon my brow +Of death and destiny and all that mars. + + +II + +The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast +Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung; +The sailor in his eyrie on the mast +Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung +Like a lost voice from some aërial realm +Where ships sail on forever to no shore, +Where Time gives Immortality the helm, +And fades like a far phantom from life's door. + + +III + +"And is all well, O Thou Unweariable +Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space," +Rose in me, "All? or did thy hand grow dull +Building this world that bears a piteous race? +O was it launched too soon or launched too late? +Or can it be a derelict that drifts +Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate +On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts?" + + +IV + +The sea grew softer as I questioned--calm +With mystery that like an answer moved, +And from infinity there fell a balm, +The old peace that God _is_, tho all unproved. +The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun +The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep, +There is no world that wanders, no not one +Of all the millions, that He does not keep. + + + + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS + +(_In Japan_) + + + Where the fair golden idols + Sit in darkness and in silence +While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow; + Where the tall cryptomerias + Sway in worship round about +And the rain that is falling whispers low; + I can hear strange voices + Of the dead and forgotten, +On the dimly rising incense I can see + The lives I have lived, + And my lives unbegotten, +_Namu Amida Butsu_ pity me! + + I was born this karma + Of a mother in Chuzenji, +Where Nantai-zan looks down into the lake; + Where the white-thronged pilgrims + Climb to altars in the clouds +And behold the holy eastern dawn awake. + It was there I wandered + Till a priest of the Christians +With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze. + In grief I had grown, + So upon its grief I pondered. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, keep my days! + + It was wrong, he told me, + To pray Jiso for my children, +And Binzuru for healing of my ills. + And our gods so many + Were conceived, he said, in sin, +From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills. + In despair I listened + For my heart beat hopeless, +Not a temple of my land had helped me live. + But alas that day + When I let my soul be christened! +_Namu Amida Butsu_, O forgive! + + For the Christ they gave me + As the only Law and Lotus, +As the only way to Light that will not wane, + May perchance have power + For the people of the West, +But to me he seemed the servitor of pain. + For in pain he perished + As one born to passion: +In some other life no doubt his sin was great, + Tho they told me no, + Those who followed him and cherished. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, such is fate. + + So again to idols + Of the Buddha who is boundless, +While the temple drum is beating thro the rain, + I have turned from treason + Into Meditation's truth, +From the strife the Western god regards as gain. + And if now I'm dying + As the voices tell me, +To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go; + Till my long grief ends + In Nirvana, and my sighing. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, be it so! + + + + +LOVE IN JAPAN + + +I + +Dragon-fly lighting +On the temple-bell, +Whose soul do you hear +On the Day of the Dead? +The soul of my lover? +Ah me, the plighting +Between two hearts +That were never wed! + +Dragon-fly, quickly, +The priest is coming! +Oh, the boom +Of the bitter bell! +Now you are gone +And my tears fall thickly. +How of Heaven +Do the gods make Hell! + + +II + +The sêmi is silent + (Autumn rains!) +The wind-bells tinkle + (How chill it is!) +The quick lights come +On the shoji-panes. +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The maple darkens + (Pale grow I!) +The near night shivers + (The temple fades.) + +Haunting love +Will not cease to cry! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The wild mists gather + (Ah, my tears!) +The pane-lights vanish + (For some there is rest.) +But for me-- +The remembered years! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + + + + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA + + +The summer has come, +The summer has gone, +And the maple leaves lift fairy hands +That ripple upon the winds of dawn +Where the dim pagoda stands. +They ripple and beckon yearningly +To their sister fairies over the sea, +But help comes not, +So they fall and flee +From Autumn over the sands. + +And down the mountain +And into the tide, +Some are blown where the sampans glide, +And some are strewn by the temple's side, +And some by the torii. +But Autumn ever +Pursues them till, +As ever before, +She has her will, +And leaves them desolate, dead and still, +Ravished afar and wide; +Leaves them desolate; crying shrill, +"No beauty shall abide!" + + + + +TYPHOON + +(_At Hong-kong_) + + +I was weary and slept on the Peak; + The air clung close like a shroud, +And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear + Hung haunting and hot and loud; +I awoke and the sky was dun + With awe and a dread that soon +Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew + That it meant typhoon! typhoon! + +In the harbour below, far down, + The junks like fowl in a flock +Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled + Fluttering in from the shock. +The city, a breathless bend + Of roofs, by the water strewn, +Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none + Within it but said typhoon! + +Then it came, like a million winds + Gone mad immeasurably, +A torrid and tortuous tempest stung + By rape of the fair South Sea. +And it swept like a scud escaped + From craters of sun or moon, +And struck as no power of Heaven could, + Or of Hell--typhoon! typhoon! + +And the junks were smitten and torn, + The drowning struggled and cried, +Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea, + In succourless hundreds died. +Till I shut the sight from my eyes + And prayed for my soul to swoon: +If ever I see God's face, let it + Be guiltless of that typhoon! + + + + +PENANG + + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits, +To a bungalow I know beside Penang; + Where cocoanut palms along the shore + Are waving, and the gates +Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore. + I want to go back and hear the surf + Come beating in at night, +Like the washing of eternity over the dead. + I want to see dawn fare up and day + Go down in golden light; +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And up along the Straits +To the bungalow that waits me by the tide. + Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore + At evening--and the fates +Have set no soothless canker at life's core. + I want to go back and mend my heart + Beneath the tropic moon, +While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep. + I want to believe that Earth again + With Heaven is in tune. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits +To the bungalow I left upon the strand. + Where the foam of the world grows faint before + It enters, and abates +In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour. + I want to go back and end my days + Some evening when the Cross +On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad. + I want to remember when I die + That life elsewhere was loss. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + + + + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When the wind is low, and the sea is soft, + And the far heat-lightning plays +On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest + On a darker bank of haze; +When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love + And gaze to my heart's content; +I know that the heavens are there above-- + But you are my firmament. + +When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow + And the watch climbs up the shroud; +When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips + Thro the foam that seethes aloud; +I know that the years of our life are few, + And fain as a bird to flee, +That time is as brief as a drop of dew-- + But you are Eternity. + + + + +THE PAGODA SLAVE + +(_At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon_) + + +All night long the pagoda slave +Hears the wind-bells high in the air +Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave + In praise of Lord Gautama. +All night long where the lone spire sends +Its golden height to the starry light + He hears their tune + And watches the moon +And fears he shall never reach Nirvana. + +Round and round by a hundred shrines +Glittering at the great Shwe's base +Falls the sound of his feet mid lines + Droned from the sacred Wisdom. +Round and round where the idols gaze +So pitiless on his pained distress + He passes on, + Pale-eyed and wan-- +A pariah like the dogs behind him. + +Oh, what sin in a life begot +Thousands of lives ago did he sin +That he is now by all forgot, + Even by Lord Gautama? +Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun +His very name as a thing of shame-- + A sound to taint + The winds that faint +From the high bells that hear it uttered! + +Midnight comes and the hours of morn, +Tapers die and the flowers all +From the most fêted altars: lorn + And desolate is their odour. +Midnight goes, but he watches still +By each cold spire the moon sets fire, + By every palm + Whose silvery calm +Pillar and jewelled porch pray under. + +Is it dawn that is breaking?... No, +Only a star that falls in the sea, +Only a wind-bell's louder flow + Of praise to Lord Gautama. +Faithless dawn! with illusive feet +It comes too late to ease his fate. + He sinks asleep + A helpless heap, +Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana. + + + + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA + + +Into port when the sun was setting + Rode the ship that bore my love, +Over the breakers wildly fretting, + Under the skies that shone above. + +Down to the beach I ran to meet him; + He would come as he had said: + And he came--in a sailor's coffin, + Dead!... + +O the ships of the sea! the women + They from all hope but Heaven part! +The tide has nothing now to tell me, + The breakers only break my heart! + + + + +KINCHINJUNGA + +(_Which is the next highest of mountains_) + + +I + +O white Priest of Eternity, around +Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise +Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice +To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies; +O Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows, +First-born of Asia whose maternal throes +Seem changed now to a million human woes, +Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound +One sigh of all the mystery in thee found. + + +II + +For in this world too much is overclear, +Immortal Ministrant to many lands, +From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands +Rivers that each libation poured expands. +Too much is known, O Ganges-giving sire; +Thy people fathom life and find it dire, +Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire +To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere, +Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear. + + +III + +Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites, +Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls +In strange austerity, whose trance appals, +Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls. +Continue still thy silence high and sure, +That something beyond fleeting may endure-- +Something that shall forevermore allure +Imagination on to mystic flights +Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights. + + +IV + +Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes +Of lifted granite round with reachless snows. +Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows +Of all the nations envy thy repose. +Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled. +Be that alone on earth which has not failed. +Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed, +But since primeval Power upreared thy heights +Has stood above all deaths and all delights. + + +V + +And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King, +High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed, +While thy white sanctity forever sealed +In icy silence leaves desire congealed. +In ghostly ministrations to the sun, +And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun, +Be holy still, till East to West has run, +And till no sacrificial suffering +On any shrine is left to tell life's sting. + + + + +THE BARREN WOMAN + +(_Benares_) + + +At the burning-ghat, O Kali, + Mother divine and dread, +See, I am waiting with open lips + Over the newly dead. +I am childless and barren; pity + And let me catch the soul +Of him who here on the kindled bier + Pays to Existence toll. + +See, by his guileless body + I cook the bread and eat. +Give me the soul he does not need + Now, for conception sweet. +Hear, or my lord and husband + Shall send me from his door +And take to his side a fairer bride + Whose breast shall be less poor. + +Oft I have sought thy temples, + By Ganges now I seek, +Where ashes of all the dead are strewn, + And is my prayer not meek? +The ghats and the shrines and the people + That bathe in the holy Stream +Have heard my cry, O goddess high, + Shall I not have my dream? + +The women of Oudh and Jaipur + Look on my face with scorn. +Children about their garments cling, + To me shall none be born? +The death-fires quiver faster, + O hasten, goddess, a sign, +That from this doom into my womb + Thy pledge has passed, divine. + +Woe! there is naught but ashes, + Now, and the weepers go. +Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone, + With but the River's flow. +Kali, I ask not jewels + Nor justice, beauty nor shrift, +But for the lowest woman's right, + A child--tho I die of the gift! + + + + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL + + +Under the Indian stars, +Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting, +Watching them wind their silent way +Over your wistful Tomb; +Watching the crescent prow +Of the moon among them flitting, +Fair as the shallop that bore your soul +To Paradise's Room. + +Under the Indian stars, +With palm and peepul about me, +With dome and kiosk and minaret +Mounting against the sky, +I seem to see your face +In all the fairness without me; +In all the sadness that fills my heart +To hear your lover's cry. + +Under the Indian stars +I look for your Jasmine Tower, +Along the River whose barren bed +Lies gray beneath the moon. +And thro its magic doors +You seem like a spirit flower, +Wandering back from Allah's bourne +To seek for some lost boon. + +Under the Indian stars +I see you softly moving, +Among your jewel-lit maidens there, +A sweet and ghostly queen, +And the scent of attar flung +In your marble font seems proving +That passion never can die from love, +If truly love has been. + +Under the Indian stars +_He_ comes, "the Shadow of Allah," +Jehan, the lord of Magnificence, +The liege who holds your heart. +The silver doors swing back +And alone with him you hallow +The amorous night--whose moon has made +Such visions in me start. + +Under the Indian stars-- +But the end of all is moaning! +I hear his dying breath that from +Your Tomb shall never die. +For every jasper flower +He set in its dream seems loaning +To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal, +And unto Fate a sigh. + + + + +LOVE'S CYNIC + + +I + +O you poets, ever pretending + Love is immortal, pipe the truth! +Empty your books of lies, the ending + Of no passion can be--Youth. +"Heaven," you breathe, "will join the broken?" + Come, was the Infinite e'er wed, +That He must evermore be thinking + Of your wedding bed? + + +II + +Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour + Out of your rhymes and rip your dream. +Do you believe words can enamour + Death and dry up Lethe's stream? +Death? it is but a Sponge that passes, + One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze +Back into Lethe's flood--whose lasting + Is eternities. + + +III + +"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming + Blasphemy!"--Well, look around. +Is it not only in blaspheming + Truth is ever to be found? +Whether it be, one thing I ask you, + Lovers and poets, tell, I pray, +Was there ever a love-oath ended + Ere the Judgment Day? + + +IV + +"O," you answer, "ill is in all things." + But in an ancient lie what's good? +Is it not better just to call things + What they are--not what we would? +When you are clinging to your mistress, + Love has the face of Eternity. +Cling to her then, but know that Wanting + Fools the best that be. + + +V + +"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur + All the music," you say, "of God!" +Press her lips but a little firmer-- + You will feel that they are--sod. +"But there is living soul beyond them, + And it is love's till all things end?" +Children alone build Paradises + With but pence to spend. + + +VI + +"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic," + Pitying runs your poet-smile, +"He has sat at the Devil's clinic + With some dead love up the while." +Dead or alive are one with passions, + Under the potent knife of Truth +They will be seen composed of craving-- + And a little ruth. + + +VII + +"Then the world on a lie is living?" + Many a lie has filled its maw! +"Better illusion tho than giving + Faith to a fatal loveless Law?" +There is a certain Socratean + Saying that swine of their ditch are sure; +Yet do they prove by their contentment + That it will endure? + + +VIII + +Clasp her close! But the truth is in you, + Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down, +Hid it with honey-words that win you + Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown. +Kings they will call you and uplifters + Of your kind? Lord save the mark, +That we are still for fire dependent + On so false a spark. + + +IX + +And so fond! for you hold immortal + What has been born a day or two! +"But it was destined?" Ay, your portal + Only has God to heed--and you! +He with his thrice three million thirsting + Worlds in the throes of death and life +Surely has time to spare for choosing + Your behooven wife! + + +X + +By my faith, there is not a creature + Mad as a poet, pants the breeze! +Give him a mistress and he'll preach her + As creation's Masterpiece. +Let him but lean for half an hour + Over her lips and he will swear +That he would dive thro death unfathomed + To regain her there. + + +XI + +And believe that his oath is able! + That there is not in all the sea +Water enough to quench the fable + Of his soul's intensity. +Yet there was never a rose that blossomed + And endured beyond its day. +There was never a fire enkindled + But the great Cold had its way. + + +XII + +"Pessimist," is your mortal answer, + "Wait till the love-wind pierces you!" +Wait? I have been the veriest dancer + To it, and, dupe still, would do +Truth to the death--shall I confess it?-- + For but a moment on one breast. +Wherefore I add--and Adam bless it!-- + Who loves once is like the rest. + + + + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN + +(_Peradeniya, Ceylon_) + + +I + +The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long, + With fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things. +The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate strange and strong, + And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment brings. + + +II + +The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra slips in peace + Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as a presage of his power. +And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool astounded, sees, + Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour. + + +III + +The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree to tree + Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to the tangle of their sprays. +The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee + Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze + +IV + +And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire, + The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await +What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire + Will next be laid upon some lesser mate. + + +V + +The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth + He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent lost in trance; +And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it, in stealth + Pour it upon the air like necromance. + + +VI + +And down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean + Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth +Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is seen + More of his mazing wizardry in birth. + + +VII + +All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands + With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth. +All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands + Chant of it in chill strain from South to North. + + +VIII + +A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made reality + As swift as clouds are made when the young Monsoon is in the South. +A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be + Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth. + + + + +THE WIND'S WORD + + + A star that I love, + The sea, and I, +Spake together across the night. + "Have peace," said the star, + "Have power," said the sea, +"Yea!" I answered, "and Fame's delight!" + + The wind on his way + To Araby +Paused and listened and sighed and said, + "I passed on the sands + A Pharaoh's tomb: +All these did he have--and he is dead." + + + + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES + + +There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile +A temple of imperishable stone, +Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known +To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine. +Half in debris it stands, a granite pile +Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection, +An awe, an inspiration, a dejection +To all who would the cryptic past divine. +The god of it was Ammon, and a throng +Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated +Forever at its fervid pylons waited +While priests poured ever a prophetic song. +And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws, +Is not--and is forgot--and never was! + + + + +FROM A FELUCCA + + +A white tomb in the desert, +An Arab at his prayers +Beside the Nile's dark water, +Where the lone camel fares. +An ibis on the sunset, +A slow shadouf at rest, +And in the caravansary +Low music for the guest. + +Above the tawny city +A gleam of minarets, +Resounding the muezzin's +Clear call as the sun sets. +A mystery, a silence, +A breathing of strange balm, +A peace from Allah on the wind +And on the sky his calm. + + + + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES + + +I woke at night in my eternal tomb +The desert sands had hid a thousand years, +And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom +Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods!" +I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears, +And sought the barterers of grain and wine +Culled for the praise and service of divine +Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods. +But as I passed along, woe! what was this, +Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes +Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains +That swept across my startled thought's abyss! +I moaned. My body crumbled into dust. +And then my soul fled Here--where all souls must. + + + + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE + + +Behold, the wind of the Desert rose, + Khamsin, in a shroud of sand, +And swept the Libyan waste, across + To far Somali-land. +His voice was thick with the drouth of death +And smote the earth as a burning breath, +Or as a curse which Allah saith + Unto a demon-band. + +The caravan from the oasis + Of palm-engirt Kûrkûr +Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps, + The horror to endure. +Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell +Who longs for the lute of Israfel, +Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well, + Imperishably pure! + +Three days he longed, and the wind three days + About him whirled the shroud. +Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun-- + And a gaunt vulture-crowd. +A few bleak bones on the Desert still + Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill +Again into life--if Allah will: + _Let not your heart be proud._ + + + + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER + + +I + +Many are on the sea to-day + With all sails set. +The tide rolls in a restive gray, + The wind blows wet. +The gull is weary of his wings, +And I am weary of all things. + +Heavy upon me longing lies, + My sad eyes gaze +Across the leagues that sink and rise + And sink always. +My life has sunk and risen so, +I'd have it cease awhile to flow. + + +II + +All the winds of the sea weary, + All the waves of the sea rest, +All the wants of my heart settle + Softly now in my breast. +All the stars that in heaven anchor, + Golden buoys of Elysian light, +Send me across the gulf promise + That I am faring right. + +So while clouds that are left lonely + At the gates of the far West +Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller + Stealing from her nest, +I am held by a low vesper + Haunting afar the vague twilight, +Then with my soul at peace whisper + Hallowedly good-night. + + + + +A SONG OF THE SECTS + +(_In a Jerusalem tavern_) + + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr, +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Armenian sings_ + +The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a braggart face +He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in place. +In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the blasphemer! +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Latin sings_ + +The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images, +And damns your soul to Hell--no purgatory, if you please! +About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr, +But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Copt sings_ + +Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are worst, +They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ the first. +No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix heathen myrrh-- +Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Greek sings_ + +The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible. +Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his skull +Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie aver-- +Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Four again_ + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a Juniper, +For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + + + + +THE CITY + + +Soft and fair by the Desert's edge, + And on the dim blue edge of the sea, +Where white gulls wing all day and fledge +Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge, +There is a city I have beheld, +Sometime or where, by day or dream, +I know not which, for it seems enspelled + As I am by its memory. + +Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce + Above it into the white of the skies, +And sails enchanted a thousand years +Flit at its feet while fancy steers. +No face of all its faces to me +Is known--no passion of it or pain. +It is but a city by the sea, + Enshrined forever beyond my eyes! + + + + +VIA AMOROSA + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When we two walk, my love, on the path + The moon makes over the sea, +To the end of the world where sorrow hath + An end that is ecstasy, +Should we not think of the other road + Of wearying dust and stone +Our feet would fare did each but care + To follow the way alone? + +When we two slip at night to the skies + And find one star that we keep +As a trysting-place to which our eyes + May lead our souls ere sleep, +Should we not pause for a little space + And think how many must sigh +Because they gaze over starry ways + With no heart-comrade by? + +When we two then lie down to our dreams + That deepen still the delight +Of our wandering where stars and streams + Stray in immortal light, +Should we not grieve with the myriads + From East of earth to West +Who lay them down at night but to drown + The longing for some loved breast? + +Ah, yes, for life has a thousand gifts, + But love it is gives life. +Who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts + A soul that is sorrow-rife. +But they to whom it is given to tread + The moon-path and not sink +Can ever say the unhappiest way + Earth has is fair to the brink. + + + + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA + + +Softly the bamboo bends +As the sun sinks down unglowing, +Softer the willow ends +A sigh to the dusk around. +Quickly the brief bat wends +His flittering way, thro flowing +Fields of the autumn air, +That are husht of the city's sound. + +Temple and thatch and stream +Are forgetting the light that lingers, +Mountain and mist in dream +Already are lost, afar. +Faintingly comes the beam +Of the moon--then viewless fingers +Tinkle a samisen, +And astir on the East is a star. + + + + +THE WANDERER + + + When moonlight on the face + Of the great Buddha falls + As he sits in Nirvana + On the shores of Kamakura, + When the pines about him place + Soft shadows at his feet +Like offerings of penitence and tears, + I hear in the grace + Of the wind's low susurra + A voice that calls me still + To my home within the West, + But I've lingered overlong + In the East's strange arcana +And no more is there desire within my breast. + + I left it when a boy, + That far home and, alas, + 'Twas so fair that my dreaming + Earth had fairer was a madness. + I left it for the joy + Of wandering the world, +And heathen-hearted lands have I beheld! + But when at last cloy + Of delight brought sadness + Like lotus to my veins, + And forgetfulness seemed fate, + I had fared unto this shrine + And the moon as now was beaming, +And here have I awaited--and await. + + But not for any gift + Of its god, or any grace + That in living or in dying + Men in text or sutra sigh for. + And not for any shrift + Nirvana has, or skies +Where Paradise imperishably smiles. + But only for the sift + Of the wind, that seems to die for + My soul's enduring peace + In the dwelling of the Tomb. + And only for the drift + Of the moon that comes denying +Eternity to everything but Doom. + + + + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN + + +Under the torii, robed in green, + The old priest creeps to the shrine. +Over the bridge the still stork stands, + The crow caws not in the pine. + +Far in the distance bugles blow, + War's bloody memory wakes. +The priest prays on--for his sons that are dead, + And the heart within him breaks. + + + + +FAR FUJIYAMA + + +Against the phantom gold of failing skies +I see the ghost of Fujiyama rise +And think of the innumerable eyes + That have beheld its vision sunset-crowned. +The peasant in his field of rice or tea, +The prince in gardens dreaming by the sea, +The priest to whom the sêmi in the tree + Was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound. + +And as I think upon them, lo, the trance +Of backward time and distant circumstance, +Of Karma's all-remembering necromance, + Lies suddenly before my boundless sight. +It is as if, a moment, Buddhahood +Were given to me; as if understood +At last were vague Nirvana's vaguer good; + As if time were dissolved in living light. + + + + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +Out on the sea the sampans ride + And the mountains brim with mist and sun. +O we are in Japan again + And the spell is about us spun! +The spell of the old enchanting East, +Of Buddha and many a blissful priest, +The spell that has never, never ceased + To haunt us! + +Glad we behold the temple-tops + And the lanterns in religious row +Standing, like acolytes of stone, + Where the pine and camphor grow. +And o'er them the old pagoda prays +Blessing upon their dreaming days, +And upon the eightfold sacred ways + From Sorrow! + +Ah, and the torii too is there + Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine +Daily, with tidal mystery + And majesty divine. +He enters now, as the nuptial sea +Of love first entered our hearts, to be +Lord of their tides eternally, + And Master! + + + + +OLD AGE + + +I have heard the wild geese, + I have seen the leaves fall, +There was frost last night + On the garden wall. +It is gone to-day + And I hear the wind call. + The wind?... that is all. + +If the swallow will light + When evening is near; +If the crane will not scream + Like a soul in fear; +I will think no more + Of the dying year, + And the wind, its seer. + + + + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG + + + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junk + And tatterdemalion sampan glide, +Sails of brown and black and yellow swinging. + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junks + Fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide, + Forth to the sea in sloth they ride, + The coolies singing. + + Off in the field the peasant toils + And along the canal the low tows slip, +Fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them. + Off in the field the peasant toils-- + With lip and brow the dull years strip + Bare of the dreams of life, whose grip + Has grimly drawn them. + + High on the hill the yamên rests + And the temple beside it sleeps in sun, +Far in the distance faints the city dreary. + High on the hill the yamên rests, + And dun dead shadows o'er it run: + This is the land where Time begun + And now grows weary. + + + + +THE SEA-ARMIES + + + The wild sea-armies led by the wind + Are following in our wake, +White-crested shouting millions moving on. + They have broken their camp of Calm and o'er + The world rebellion make, +With banner of cloud and mist above them drawn. + + They have heard the call of infinite Death, + The ordering of his word, +"Arise, go forth and conquer where ye can; + For that is the only law ye know, + Its mandate men have heard, +Let them beware when they your path would span. + + "Let them beware, for I am lord + Of all that on earth has name, +And unto you is given most my might. + Ride on, ye have many a ship to rend, + And many a mast to maim, +And many a land to lash and soul to fright." + + So on they ride, a ravaging horde, + From shore to shuddering shore, +Beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn; + Nor know that when they have camped again + And sleep, Life will restore +Unto her world the hope they have withdrawn. + + + + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE + +(_Mandalay_) + + +The palms along the old fort wall are paling, + The mountains in the evening light are red, +The moon has dropped into the moat from heaven, + A spell barbaric over all is spread. +But what is that to him, a stranger lonely, + In a land strange to all his faith and dim? +He cares not for old splendours, he would only + Hear on the air a simple Sabbath hymn. + +The paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking + From the tall tamarind unto their nest, +The bullock-carts along the road are creaking, + The bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest. +On a calm jetty looking off to Mecca + Sons of Mahomet watch the low day's rim. +He too is waiting for it--with an echo + Upon his lips of a believer's hymn. + +The red gate-towers rise against the twilight, + The palace of the heathen king is hid, +The white bridge bent across the moat beside it + Seems now of all unholinesses rid. +He wishes it were so with all this city + Whose Buddha-built pagodas skyward swim; +But he can only gaze on them and pity-- + And sing within his heart a Christian hymn. + + + + +THE PARSEE WOMAN + +(_At Bombay_) + + +Cast me out from among you, + I will not see my child +Laid aloft where the vultures + May clamour for him, wild! +The earth you say is holy, + Not to be soiled by death, +And a Parsee still should hold divine + What Zoroaster saith. + +Ay, and so I will hold it, + But see his pale sweet face, +As pure as the palest flower + Left dead in Spring's embrace. +The sun we worship daily + Shrined it for seven years, +Then shall it go to cruel beaks, + There where the sea-wind veers? + +No, no, no! tho you send me + A beggar from your door, +You, my lord, whom I honour, + And you, his sisters four, +To whom there have come no children + To make your bosoms feel +How even a thought so full of throe + Can make my sick brain reel. + +Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me + And loathe, as a thing defiled? +My lord, I am but a woman + Who longs to see her child +Laid in a tomb, entreasured + Under the shrouding sod. +O would I had never given birth, + Or that earth had no God! + + + + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL + + + I see as in a pale mirage + The palm that o'er you sways, +The waters of the Jumna wan are beating. + One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj, + A dome of grief betrays-- +Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting! + + The world is wider than I knew + Now that your face is gone! +While you were here no destiny seemed boundless. + So I am lost and find no clue + To any dusk or dawn! +Life has become a quest decayed and groundless. + + Come back! come back or let me find + The jungle leads at last +Unto your lips and bosom recreated! + O somewhere I again must wind + My arms about you, cast +Into one word my love all unabated! + + + + +PRINCESS JEHANARA + + +Where the road leads from Delhi to the South, +And dingy camel-trains creep in the dust +Past ruin-heaps of old Firozabad +And Indropat unpitied of the drouth; +By a lone tree, above a Pool whose sad +Prayer-water all the turban-people trust, +Is a heat-hidden tomb, and on it just +A few faint blades of bent and grieving grass. +"Jehanara's it is," with ready mouth +A Moslem tells the stranger, "once she said, +'The covering of the poor is only grass, +Let it be mine alone when I am dead.'" +And who has stood there, where about her Rest +Rise high Imperial tombs, knows hers is best. + + + + +A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT + + + As the cocoanut-palm + That pines, my love, + Away from the sound + Of the planter's voice, + Am I, for I hear + No more resound +Your song by the pearl-strewn sea! + The sun may come + And the moon wax round, + And in its beam + My mates may rejoice, + But I feast not + And my heart is dumb, +As I long, O long, for thee! + + In the jungle-deeps, + Where the cobra creeps, + The leopard lies + In wait for me. + But O, my love, + When the daylight dies +There is more to my dread than he! + Harsh lonely tears + That assail my eyes + Are worse to bear, + For the misery + That makes them well + Is the long, long years +That I moan away from thee! + + O again, again, + In my katamaran + A-keel would I push + To your palmy door! + Again would I hear + The heave and hush +Of your song by the plantain-tree. + But far away + Do I toil and crush + The hopes that arise + At my sick heart's core. + For never near + Does it come, the day +That draws me again to thee! + + + + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF + + +From a far minaret of faithful cloud +A wraith-muezzin of the sunset cried +Over the sea that swung with sultan pride, +"Allah is Beauty, there is none beside! +Allah is Beauty, not to be denied +By Death or any Infidel dark-browed!" + +And every wave that worshipped, every one +Under the mosque of heaven arching high, +Lifted a white crest with assenting sigh +And answered, "Let all gods but Allah die, +Yea, let all gods! until the world shall cry, +Beauty alone is left under the sun!" + + + + +THE RAMESSID + + +Upon an image of immortal stone, +Seated and vast, the moon of Luxor falls, +Lending to it a stillness that appals, +A mystery Osirian and strange. +The hands outplaced upon the knees in lone +And placid majesty reveal the power +Of Egypt in her most triumphal hour, +The calm of tyranny that cannot change. +It is of that Great king, who heard the cries +Of millions toil to lift him to the skies, +Who saw them perish at their task like flies, +Yet let no eye of pity o'er them range. +What rue, then, if his desecrated face +Rots now at Cairo in a mummy case? + + + + +IMMORTAL FOES + + +At Bedrashein between the pyramids +I saw the wingèd sun fold up his pinions +And sink into the nether world's dominions +Where Set sent ill on the Egyptian dead. +I saw the ancient Desert, that outbids +The Nile for the date-lands between them spread, +Fling over Memphis that is vanishèd, +Another shroud of sand, then bid his minions, +The winds, lie down upon their boundless bed. + +I saw where temples vowed to Serapis +And granite splendours men name Pharaonic +Are kept by Time in silence and sardonic +Concealment--mummied in deep mystic tombs. +And when the stars came out in quiet bliss, +I heard Eternity with all its dooms, +Past and to come, sound softly the mnemonic +Of Death who waits all worlds that Life enwombs. + + + + +THE CONSCRIPT + + +The camel at the old sakiyeh + Toils around and round. +Aweary is he of the Nile + And of the wailing sound +Of the slow wheel he turns all day +To lift the water on its way +Over the fields of Ahmed Bey, + That with green grain abound. + +Aweary is he, too, of fellà heen + Who compel him on, +With thick-voiced chanting till the day + Over the West has gone. +For the bold Desert was he made, +The Bedouin, his lord, to aid, +Not for this peasant wheel of trade + That ever must be drawn. + +But on he toils while dahabiyeh + And dark felucca glide +Below him on the glassy flow + Of the gray river's tide. +Then when the night has come lies down, +In sleep the servile day to drown-- +Like all whom Life turns with a frown + From their true fate aside. + + + + +NAVIS IGNOTA + + +Lord, what ship goes forth to-day? + I see her setting West. +Shall she have thy winds aright, +Stars to guide her with their light, +Shall she sweep the seas to sight + Of land and harbour-rest? + +Awful is thy ocean-wrath, + And none can chart thy shoals +When storm unassuaging hath +Blotted sun and planet-path. +Shall she, Lord, escape the scath + And live, with all her souls? + +For it is a beauteous thing + That ships should sail the sea. +Splendid is their plunge and swing +Into waves that foam and fling +Maelstroms at their bows to bring + Them down to destiny. + +And she, too, courageous rides + Away into the gloom. +Now her lights are lost in tides +Of the windy spray that glides +Thro the darkness, Lord, abides + Thy Dove with her--or Doom? + +I shall know perhaps some day, + Or, knowing not, recall +How my heart was fain to pray +For a ship that bravely lay +To her task: O Lord, so may + Each vessel of us all! + + + + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE + + +Within the Holy Sepulchre, breast-high, +There is a cross uncounted lips have kissed, +Millions the world to dust has long dismissed, +Millions that now hope of it but to die. +Pilgrims, I saw, from out far fervid lands +Of superstition, North and West and South, +Bend to it each a trembling, reverent mouth, +Then kneel where Christ was said to loose Death's bands. +And then I wondered if He who believed +In the One God were wounded sore by this, +Whether He shrinks at each ecstatic kiss, +Or knowing how humanity is grieved, +Knows too that it is better to give Hope +Than Truth, if only one is in man's scope. + + + + +THE NUN + + +A lone palm leans in the moonlight + Over a convent wall. +The sea below is waking and breaking + With quiet heave and fall. +A young nun sits at the window; + For Heaven she is too fair; +Yet even the Dove of God might nest + In her bosom beating there. + +A lone ship sails from the harbour: + Whom does it bear away? +Her lover who sin-hearted has parted + And left her but to pray? +She has no lover, nor ever + Has heard afar love's sigh. +Only the convent's vesper vow + Has ever dimmed her eye. + +For naught knows she of her beauty, + More than the palm of its peace; +And who beyond Christ's portal to mortal + Desires would bend her knees? +The ways of the World have flowers, + And any who will pluck those; +But let there ever be a place + Where none may pluck God's rose. + + + + +ALPINE CHANT + + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +They are rising white around me, +Snow peaks like patriarchs + That Winter has enthroned. +I'm tramping up the valleys +Where the cataracts sound me +Thunders they have shrilly + From eternity intoned. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +With the clouds for my companions, +Soft clouds that float and cling + From crag to cloven crag. +I'm passing by the chalets +That o'erhang the high cañons, +Passing where the shepherds + And the flocks they pipe to lag. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +Where the pines in proud procession +Climb like a hardy host + To halo-heights of sun. +I'm listening for the sallies +Of the avalanche's Hessian +Hurl of ice and granite + Into gulfs Avernian. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +And the wind is yodling to me +Yearnings of the glaciers + To flow to summer lands. +I'm treading up the valleys +With no wanting to undo me-- +For to-day I'm goalless + And the great God understands! + + + + +THE MAN OF MIGHT + + +No moment drooped between his thought and action, + No morrow died between his dream and deed. +Within his soul there was no fatal faction + That could betray him in his hour of need. + + + + +IN TIME OF AWE + + +The fierce sea-sunset over the world + Springs like a wounded spirit, +The waves all day have hissed and hurled +Their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled, +And ships in the gray gale's lair have furled + Their sails--well may they fear it! + +The night will be but a monstrous seethe + Of terrors elemental. +The clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath +Of gloom the winds that in them breathe, +And all that lives in the sea beneath + By fear shall be made gentle; + +And sink down, down to the nether deeps, + Below the foam and fretting. +Down where the sullen water sleeps +Alway and the slow sand coldly creeps +Over the lone wreck, which Death keeps + To guard him 'gainst forgetting. + +And there in the ominous vast calm + They'll harbour, like enchanted +Chill shapes he has strangely conjured from +The silence of his masterdom; +There float till again they feel the qualm + Of hunger thro them panted. + +And then once more far up will they spring, + To drift and sport and plunder, +Shark, eel and whale and devil-thing, +With tooth to rend and tail to sting. +To the sea, O God, does horror cling + And haunting past all wonder. + + + + +SUNRISE IN UTAH + + +The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea +Rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn, +And terrible in an eternity +Of death took silently the sunrise on. +Purple funereal from rifted skies +Swept down across their proud sterility, +Only to die as here all glory dies, +On barrenness I did not dream could be. +O God, for a bird-song! or opening lips +Of but one flower upon the fatal air, +For but the voice of water as it drips, +Or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware! +O God, for these, for life! or from the face +Of the world wipe so irreparable a place! + + + + +CONSOLATION + + +I + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill, +Lie softly at my feet. +The sun has worked his will +And the day is done. +Come to me softly and distil +Your dews and dreams, that heat +And hours of heartless glare have overrun. + + +II + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill +And bring with you the night, +Fire-flies and the whippoorwill +And ah, the moon-- +Whose soft interpretings can still +The tangled tongues of right +And wrong, and hope and fear, that haunt the noon. + + +III + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill-- +And let there follow Sleep, +Which is God's tidal Will +That overflows +The world--obliterating ill, +And in its soothing sweep +Murmuring more of mercy than man knows. + + + + +WAVES + + +The evening sails come home + With twilight in their wings. +The harbour-light across the gloam + Springs; + The wind sings. + +The waves begin to tell + The sea's night-sorrow o'er, +Weaving within their ancient spell + More + Than earth's lore. + +The rising moon wafts strange + Low lures across the tide, +On which my dim thoughts seem to range, + Stride + Upon stride, +Until, with flooding thrill, + They seem at last to blend +With waves that from the Eternal Will + Wend, + Without end. + + + + +VIS ULTIMA + + +There is no day but leads me to + A peak impossible to scale, + A task at which my hands must fail, + A sea I cannot swim or sail. +There is no night I suffer thro + But Destiny rules stern and pale: +And yet what I am meant to do + I will do, ere Death drop his veil. + +And it shall be no little thing, + Tho to oblivion it fall, + For I shall strive to it thro all + That can imperil or appal. +So at each morning's trumpet-ring + I mount again, less slave and thrall, +And at the barriers gladly fling + A fortitude that scorns to crawl. + + + + +MEREDITH + + +What am I reading? He is dead? +He the great interpreter +And seer--England's noblest head? +What am I reading? It is hushed? +The deepest voice that life had found +To read a century profound +With all time's seethe and stir? + +Why, it is but a scanty score +Of days, since, at his side, +Clasping his hand with more than pride, +I felt that the immortal tide +Of his great mind would long break o'er +The cold command of Death. +Still in my ear is echoing +The surf of his strong words, and still +Against the wild trees on the Hill +His cottage sheltered under, +I see the toss of his gray locks, +Like Lear's--for he had felt the sting +Of all too greatly giving +The kingdom of his mind to those +Who for it held him mad. + +O England, guard thy living +Like him from a like fate! +For not the mighty thunder +Of thy proud name from all the rocks +Of all the world can compensate +A nation whom no Song makes glad, +And whom no Seer makes great. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30225 *** diff --git a/30225-h/30225-h.htm b/30225-h/30225-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3fe124e --- /dev/null +++ b/30225-h/30225-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2274 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .tocnum {position: absolute; top: auto; right: 10%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30225 ***</div> + +<h1>MANY GODS</h1> + + +<h3>OTHER BOOKS BY +CALE YOUNG RICE</h3> + +<p class="center"> +Nirvana Days<br /> +Yolanda of Cyprus<br /> +Plays and Lyrics<br /> +A Night in Avignon<br /> +Charles di Tocca<br /> +David<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MANY GODS</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CALE YOUNG RICE</h2> + +<p class="center"> +NEW YORK<br /> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +MCMX<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION<br /> +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910<br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="center"> +TO<br /> +<br /> +FINIS KING FARR<br /> +<br /> +AN OLD<br /> +<br /> +AND DEAR COMRADE<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +"<span class="smcap">All's Well</span>" <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_3'>3</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Proselyte Recants</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Love in Japan</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_10'>10</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Maple Leaves on Miyajima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_13'>13</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Typhoon</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_15'>15</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Penang</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">When the Wind is Low</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Pagoda Slave</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ships of the Sea</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_25'>25</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kinchinjunga</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Barren Woman</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By the Taj Mahal</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_32'>32</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Love's Cynic</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Tropical Garden</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_42'>42</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Wind's Word</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Shrine of Shrines</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">From a Felucca</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Egyptian Wakes</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_49'>49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Imam's Parable</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Songs of a Sea-farer</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Song of the Sects</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span><span class="smcap">The City</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Via Amorosa</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_58'>58</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dusk at Hiroshima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Wanderer</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Shinto Temple Garden</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Far Fujiyama</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On Miyajima Mountain</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Old Age</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Yang-tse-kiang</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Sea-armies</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_71'>71</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Christian in Exile</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_73'>73</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Parsee Woman</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Shah Jehan To Mumtaz Mahal</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Princess Jehanara</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Cinghalese Love Lament</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_80'>80</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Arabian Gulf</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ramessid</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Immortal Foes</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_85'>85</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Conscript</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Navis Ignota</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_89'>89</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Cross of the Sepulchre</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_91'>91</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Nun</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_92'>92</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alpine Chant</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Man of Might</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_96'>96</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Time of Awe</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_97'>97</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sunrise in Utah</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_99'>99</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Consolation</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_100'>100</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Waves</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_102'>102</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vis Ultima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_104'>104</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Meredith</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MANY GODS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>"ALL'S WELL"</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The illimitable leaping of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mouthing of his madness to the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seething of his endless sorcery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prophecy no power can attune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept over me as, on the sounding prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a great ship that steered into the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stood and felt the awe upon my brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death and destiny and all that mars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sailor in his eyrie on the mast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Like a lost voice from some aërial realm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ships sail on forever to no shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Time gives Immortality the helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fades like a far phantom from life's door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And is all well, O Thou Unweariable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose in me, "All? or did thy hand grow dull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Building this world that bears a piteous race?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O was it launched too soon or launched too late?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or can it be a derelict that drifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea grew softer as I questioned—calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mystery that like an answer moved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from infinity there fell a balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old peace that God <i>is</i>, tho all unproved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no world that wanders, no not one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the millions, that He does not keep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PROSELYTE RECANTS</h2> + +<h3>(<i>In Japan</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the fair golden idols<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit in darkness and in silence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the tall cryptomerias<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sway in worship round about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rain that is falling whispers low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can hear strange voices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the dead and forgotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dimly rising incense I can see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lives I have lived,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my lives unbegotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i> pity me!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was born this karma<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a mother in Chuzenji,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Nantai-zan looks down into the lake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the white-thronged pilgrims<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climb to altars in the clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And behold the holy eastern dawn awake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was there I wandered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till a priest of the Christians<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In grief I had grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So upon its grief I pondered.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, keep my days!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was wrong, he told me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pray Jiso for my children,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Binzuru for healing of my ills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our gods so many<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were conceived, he said, in sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In despair I listened<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my heart beat hopeless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a temple of my land had helped me live.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But alas that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I let my soul be christened!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, O forgive!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the Christ they gave me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the only Law and Lotus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the only way to Light that will not wane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May perchance have power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the people of the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to me he seemed the servitor of pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in pain he perished<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one born to passion:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some other life no doubt his sin was great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho they told me no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those who followed him and cherished.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, such is fate.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So again to idols<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Buddha who is boundless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the temple drum is beating thro the rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have turned from treason<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Meditation's truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the strife the Western god regards as gain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if now I'm dying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the voices tell me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till my long grief ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Nirvana, and my sighing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, be it so!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h2>LOVE IN JAPAN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dragon-fly lighting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the temple-bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul do you hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the Day of the Dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul of my lover?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah me, the plighting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between two hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That were never wed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dragon-fly, quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest is coming!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, the boom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the bitter bell!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Now you are gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my tears fall thickly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How of Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do the gods make Hell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sêmi is silent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Autumn rains!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind-bells tinkle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(How chill it is!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quick lights come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the shoji-panes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The maple darkens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Pale grow I!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The near night shivers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The temple fades.)<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haunting love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will not cease to cry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wild mists gather<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Ah, my tears!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pane-lights vanish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For some there is rest.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The remembered years!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h2>MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The summer has come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The summer has gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the maple leaves lift fairy hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ripple upon the winds of dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the dim pagoda stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They ripple and beckon yearningly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their sister fairies over the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But help comes not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So they fall and flee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Autumn over the sands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And down the mountain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some are blown where the sampans glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some are strewn by the temple's side,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And some by the torii.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Autumn ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursues them till,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ever before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has her will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves them desolate, dead and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravished afar and wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves them desolate; crying shrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No beauty shall abide!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h2>TYPHOON</h2> + +<h3>(<i>At Hong-kong</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was weary and slept on the Peak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The air clung close like a shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung haunting and hot and loud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I awoke and the sky was dun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With awe and a dread that soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it meant typhoon! typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the harbour below, far down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The junks like fowl in a flock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttering in from the shock.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The city, a breathless bend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of roofs, by the water strewn,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within it but said typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then it came, like a million winds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone mad immeasurably,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A torrid and tortuous tempest stung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By rape of the fair South Sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it swept like a scud escaped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From craters of sun or moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And struck as no power of Heaven could,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of Hell—typhoon! typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the junks were smitten and torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The drowning struggled and cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In succourless hundreds died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I shut the sight from my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prayed for my soul to swoon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever I see God's face, let it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be guiltless of that typhoon!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> +<h2>PENANG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ship along the Straits,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a bungalow I know beside Penang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where cocoanut palms along the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are waving, and the gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and hear the surf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come beating in at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the washing of eternity over the dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to see dawn fare up and day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go down in golden light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up along the Straits<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To the bungalow that waits me by the tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At evening—and the fates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have set no soothless canker at life's core.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and mend my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the tropic moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to believe that Earth again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Heaven is in tune.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ship along the Straits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the bungalow I left upon the strand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the foam of the world grows faint before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It enters, and abates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and end my days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some evening when the Cross<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +<span class="i0">On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to remember when I die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That life elsewhere was loss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHEN THE WIND IS LOW</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the wind is low, and the sea is soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the far heat-lightning plays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a darker bank of haze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gaze to my heart's content;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that the heavens are there above—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you are my firmament.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the watch climbs up the shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro the foam that seethes aloud;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I know that the years of our life are few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fain as a bird to flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That time is as brief as a drop of dew—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you are Eternity.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PAGODA SLAVE</h2> + +<h4>(<i>At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon</i>)</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All night long the pagoda slave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears the wind-bells high in the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In praise of Lord Gautama.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night long where the lone spire sends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its golden height to the starry light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears their tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watches the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fears he shall never reach Nirvana.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round and round by a hundred shrines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glittering at the great Shwe's base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls the sound of his feet mid lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droned from the sacred Wisdom.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Round and round where the idols gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So pitiless on his pained distress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He passes on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale-eyed and wan—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pariah like the dogs behind him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, what sin in a life begot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousands of lives ago did he sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he is now by all forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even by Lord Gautama?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His very name as a thing of shame—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound to taint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds that faint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the high bells that hear it uttered!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Midnight comes and the hours of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tapers die and the flowers all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the most fêted altars: lorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And desolate is their odour.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Midnight goes, but he watches still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By each cold spire the moon sets fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By every palm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose silvery calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pillar and jewelled porch pray under.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it dawn that is breaking?... No,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a star that falls in the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a wind-bell's louder flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of praise to Lord Gautama.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faithless dawn! with illusive feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It comes too late to ease his fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sinks asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A helpless heap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SHIPS OF THE SEA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into port when the sun was setting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode the ship that bore my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the breakers wildly fretting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the skies that shone above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down to the beach I ran to meet him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would come as he had said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he came—in a sailor's coffin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead!...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O the ships of the sea! the women<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They from all hope but Heaven part!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide has nothing now to tell me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breakers only break my heart!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2>KINCHINJUNGA</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Which is the next highest of mountains</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O white Priest of Eternity, around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First-born of Asia whose maternal throes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem changed now to a million human woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One sigh of all the mystery in thee found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For in this world too much is overclear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortal Ministrant to many lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rivers that each libation poured expands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much is known, O Ganges-giving sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy people fathom life and find it dire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In strange austerity, whose trance appals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Continue still thy silence high and sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That something beyond fleeting may endure—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Something that shall forevermore allure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imagination on to mystic flights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lifted granite round with reachless snows.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the nations envy thy repose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be that alone on earth which has not failed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But since primeval Power upreared thy heights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has stood above all deaths and all delights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thy white sanctity forever sealed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In icy silence leaves desire congealed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ghostly ministrations to the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be holy still, till East to West has run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And till no sacrificial suffering<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On any shrine is left to tell life's sting.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BARREN WOMAN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Benares</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the burning-ghat, O Kali,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother divine and dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, I am waiting with open lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the newly dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am childless and barren; pity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let me catch the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him who here on the kindled bier<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pays to Existence toll.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, by his guileless body<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cook the bread and eat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me the soul he does not need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, for conception sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear, or my lord and husband<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall send me from his door<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And take to his side a fairer bride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breast shall be less poor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft I have sought thy temples,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Ganges now I seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ashes of all the dead are strewn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is my prayer not meek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghats and the shrines and the people<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bathe in the holy Stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have heard my cry, O goddess high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I not have my dream?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The women of Oudh and Jaipur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on my face with scorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children about their garments cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me shall none be born?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The death-fires quiver faster,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O hasten, goddess, a sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from this doom into my womb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy pledge has passed, divine.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Woe! there is naught but ashes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, and the weepers go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With but the River's flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kali, I ask not jewels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor justice, beauty nor shrift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for the lowest woman's right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A child—tho I die of the gift!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<h2>BY THE TAJ MAHAL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching them wind their silent way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over your wistful Tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching the crescent prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the moon among them flitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair as the shallop that bore your soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Paradise's Room.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With palm and peepul about me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dome and kiosk and minaret<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mounting against the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seem to see your face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the fairness without me;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In all the sadness that fills my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear your lover's cry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look for your Jasmine Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the River whose barren bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies gray beneath the moon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro its magic doors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You seem like a spirit flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering back from Allah's bourne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek for some lost boon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see you softly moving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among your jewel-lit maidens there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweet and ghostly queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the scent of attar flung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your marble font seems proving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That passion never can die from love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If truly love has been.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He</i> comes, "the Shadow of Allah,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jehan, the lord of Magnificence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liege who holds your heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silver doors swing back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And alone with him you hallow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The amorous night—whose moon has made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such visions in me start.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the end of all is moaning!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear his dying breath that from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Tomb shall never die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every jasper flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He set in its dream seems loaning<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unto Fate a sigh.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> +<h2>LOVE'S CYNIC</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O you poets, ever pretending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love is immortal, pipe the truth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Empty your books of lies, the ending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of no passion can be—Youth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Heaven," you breathe, "will join the broken?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, was the Infinite e'er wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That He must evermore be thinking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your wedding bed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of your rhymes and rip your dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you believe words can enamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death and dry up Lethe's stream?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Death? it is but a Sponge that passes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back into Lethe's flood—whose lasting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is eternities.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blasphemy!"—Well, look around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not only in blaspheming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth is ever to be found?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether it be, one thing I ask you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lovers and poets, tell, I pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was there ever a love-oath ended<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the Judgment Day?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O," you answer, "ill is in all things."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in an ancient lie what's good?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not better just to call things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What they are—not what we would?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +<span class="i0">When you are clinging to your mistress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love has the face of Eternity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cling to her then, but know that Wanting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fools the best that be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the music," you say, "of God!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press her lips but a little firmer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You will feel that they are—sod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But there is living soul beyond them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it is love's till all things end?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children alone build Paradises<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With but pence to spend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pitying runs your poet-smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He has sat at the Devil's clinic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With some dead love up the while."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Dead or alive are one with passions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the potent knife of Truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will be seen composed of craving—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a little ruth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then the world on a lie is living?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many a lie has filled its maw!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Better illusion tho than giving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith to a fatal loveless Law?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a certain Socratean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying that swine of their ditch are sure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet do they prove by their contentment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it will endure?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clasp her close! But the truth is in you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hid it with honey-words that win you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Kings they will call you and uplifters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your kind? Lord save the mark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we are still for fire dependent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On so false a spark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so fond! for you hold immortal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What has been born a day or two!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But it was destined?" Ay, your portal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only has God to heed—and you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He with his thrice three million thirsting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worlds in the throes of death and life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely has time to spare for choosing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your behooven wife!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By my faith, there is not a creature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mad as a poet, pants the breeze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him a mistress and he'll preach her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As creation's Masterpiece.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Let him but lean for half an hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over her lips and he will swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he would dive thro death unfathomed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To regain her there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And believe that his oath is able!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there is not in all the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water enough to quench the fable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his soul's intensity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet there was never a rose that blossomed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And endured beyond its day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was never a fire enkindled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the great Cold had its way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pessimist," is your mortal answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wait till the love-wind pierces you!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait? I have been the veriest dancer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To it, and, dupe still, would do<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Truth to the death—shall I confess it?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For but a moment on one breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore I add—and Adam bless it!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves once is like the rest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN A TROPICAL GARDEN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Peradeniya, Ceylon</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate strange and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment brings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra slips in peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as a presage of his power.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool astounded, sees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree to tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to the tangle of their sprays.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will next be laid upon some lesser mate.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent lost in trance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it, in stealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour it upon the air like necromance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More of his mazing wizardry in birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +<span class="i0">With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chant of it in chill strain from South to North.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made reality<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As swift as clouds are made when the young Monsoon is in the South.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WIND'S WORD</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A star that I love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea, and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spake together across the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Have peace," said the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Have power," said the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yea!" I answered, "and Fame's delight!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind on his way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Araby<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused and listened and sighed and said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I passed on the sands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pharaoh's tomb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All these did he have—and he is dead."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SHRINE OF SHRINES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A temple of imperishable stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half in debris it stands, a granite pile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An awe, an inspiration, a dejection<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all who would the cryptic past divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The god of it was Ammon, and a throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forever at its fervid pylons waited<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While priests poured ever a prophetic song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not—and is forgot—and never was!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> +<h2>FROM A FELUCCA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A white tomb in the desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Arab at his prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the Nile's dark water,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the lone camel fares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ibis on the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slow shadouf at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the caravansary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low music for the guest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Above the tawny city<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gleam of minarets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resounding the muezzin's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear call as the sun sets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mystery, a silence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A breathing of strange balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peace from Allah on the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the sky his calm.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE EGYPTIAN WAKES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I woke at night in my eternal tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The desert sands had hid a thousand years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought the barterers of grain and wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Culled for the praise and service of divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as I passed along, woe! what was this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That swept across my startled thought's abyss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I moaned. My body crumbled into dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then my soul fled Here—where all souls must.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE IMAM'S PARABLE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold, the wind of the Desert rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Khamsin, in a shroud of sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swept the Libyan waste, across<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To far Somali-land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice was thick with the drouth of death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smote the earth as a burning breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or as a curse which Allah saith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto a demon-band.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The caravan from the oasis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of palm-engirt Kûrkûr<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horror to endure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who longs for the lute of Israfel,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imperishably pure!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three days he longed, and the wind three days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About him whirled the shroud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a gaunt vulture-crowd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few bleak bones on the Desert still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again into life—if Allah will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Let not your heart be proud.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2>SONGS OF A SEA-FARER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many are on the sea to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all sails set.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide rolls in a restive gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind blows wet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gull is weary of his wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am weary of all things.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heavy upon me longing lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sad eyes gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the leagues that sink and rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sink always.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My life has sunk and risen so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd have it cease awhile to flow.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the winds of the sea weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the waves of the sea rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the wants of my heart settle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softly now in my breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the stars that in heaven anchor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden buoys of Elysian light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send me across the gulf promise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I am faring right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So while clouds that are left lonely<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the gates of the far West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stealing from her nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am held by a low vesper<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunting afar the vague twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with my soul at peace whisper<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hallowedly good-night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SONG OF THE SECTS</h2> + +<h3>(<i>In a Jerusalem tavern</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Armenian sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a braggart face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the blasphemer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Latin sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And damns your soul to Hell—no purgatory, if you please!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Copt sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ the first.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix heathen myrrh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Greek sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his skull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie aver—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Four again</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a Juniper,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CITY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soft and fair by the Desert's edge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the dim blue edge of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where white gulls wing all day and fledge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a city I have beheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometime or where, by day or dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not which, for it seems enspelled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I am by its memory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above it into the white of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sails enchanted a thousand years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flit at its feet while fancy steers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No face of all its faces to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is known—no passion of it or pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is but a city by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enshrined forever beyond my eyes!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIA AMOROSA</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two walk, my love, on the path<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon makes over the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the end of the world where sorrow hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An end that is ecstasy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not think of the other road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wearying dust and stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our feet would fare did each but care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To follow the way alone?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two slip at night to the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find one star that we keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a trysting-place to which our eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May lead our souls ere sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not pause for a little space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think how many must sigh<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Because they gaze over starry ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no heart-comrade by?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two then lie down to our dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That deepen still the delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our wandering where stars and streams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stray in immortal light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not grieve with the myriads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From East of earth to West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lay them down at night but to drown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The longing for some loved breast?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, yes, for life has a thousand gifts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But love it is gives life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul that is sorrow-rife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they to whom it is given to tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon-path and not sink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can ever say the unhappiest way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth has is fair to the brink.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> +<h2>DUSK AT HIROSHIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Softly the bamboo bends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the sun sinks down unglowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softer the willow ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sigh to the dusk around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly the brief bat wends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His flittering way, thro flowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fields of the autumn air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That are husht of the city's sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Temple and thatch and stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are forgetting the light that lingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mountain and mist in dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already are lost, afar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintingly comes the beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the moon—then viewless fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tinkle a samisen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And astir on the East is a star.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WANDERER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When moonlight on the face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the great Buddha falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he sits in Nirvana<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the shores of Kamakura,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the pines about him place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soft shadows at his feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like offerings of penitence and tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear in the grace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the wind's low susurra<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice that calls me still<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To my home within the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I've lingered overlong<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the East's strange arcana<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no more is there desire within my breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I left it when a boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That far home and, alas,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas so fair that my dreaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earth had fairer was a madness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I left it for the joy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of wandering the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heathen-hearted lands have I beheld!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when at last cloy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of delight brought sadness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like lotus to my veins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And forgetfulness seemed fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had fared unto this shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the moon as now was beaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here have I awaited—and await.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But not for any gift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of its god, or any grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in living or in dying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men in text or sutra sigh for.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not for any shrift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nirvana has, or skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Paradise imperishably smiles.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +<span class="i0">But only for the sift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the wind, that seems to die for<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul's enduring peace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the dwelling of the Tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only for the drift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the moon that comes denying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternity to everything but Doom.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the torii, robed in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old priest creeps to the shrine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the bridge the still stork stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crow caws not in the pine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far in the distance bugles blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War's bloody memory wakes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest prays on—for his sons that are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the heart within him breaks.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2>FAR FUJIYAMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Against the phantom gold of failing skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see the ghost of Fujiyama rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think of the innumerable eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have beheld its vision sunset-crowned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peasant in his field of rice or tea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prince in gardens dreaming by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest to whom the sêmi in the tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as I think upon them, lo, the trance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of backward time and distant circumstance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Karma's all-remembering necromance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies suddenly before my boundless sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is as if, a moment, Buddhahood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were given to me; as if understood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last were vague Nirvana's vaguer good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if time were dissolved in living light.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out on the sea the sampans ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the mountains brim with mist and sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O we are in Japan again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the spell is about us spun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell of the old enchanting East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Buddha and many a blissful priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell that has never, never ceased<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To haunt us!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glad we behold the temple-tops<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lanterns in religious row<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standing, like acolytes of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pine and camphor grow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er them the old pagoda prays<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Blessing upon their dreaming days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And upon the eightfold sacred ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Sorrow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, and the torii too is there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daily, with tidal mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And majesty divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He enters now, as the nuptial sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love first entered our hearts, to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord of their tides eternally,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Master!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2>OLD AGE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have heard the wild geese,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have seen the leaves fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was frost last night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the garden wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is gone to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hear the wind call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind?... that is all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the swallow will light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When evening is near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the crane will not scream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a soul in fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will think no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the dying year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wind, its seer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tatterdemalion sampan glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sails of brown and black and yellow swinging.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth to the sea in sloth they ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The coolies singing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Off in the field the peasant toils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And along the canal the low tows slip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Off in the field the peasant toils—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lip and brow the dull years strip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare of the dreams of life, whose grip<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has grimly drawn them.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High on the hill the yamên rests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the temple beside it sleeps in sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far in the distance faints the city dreary.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High on the hill the yamên rests,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dun dead shadows o'er it run:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the land where Time begun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now grows weary.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SEA-ARMIES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wild sea-armies led by the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are following in our wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White-crested shouting millions moving on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have broken their camp of Calm and o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world rebellion make,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With banner of cloud and mist above them drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They have heard the call of infinite Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ordering of his word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arise, go forth and conquer where ye can;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that is the only law ye know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mandate men have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them beware when they your path would span.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let them beware, for I am lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that on earth has name,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And unto you is given most my might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride on, ye have many a ship to rend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a mast to maim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a land to lash and soul to fright."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So on they ride, a ravaging horde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From shore to shuddering shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor know that when they have camped again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sleep, Life will restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto her world the hope they have withdrawn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Mandalay</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The palms along the old fort wall are paling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountains in the evening light are red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon has dropped into the moat from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spell barbaric over all is spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what is that to him, a stranger lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a land strange to all his faith and dim?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cares not for old splendours, he would only<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear on the air a simple Sabbath hymn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the tall tamarind unto their nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bullock-carts along the road are creaking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +<span class="i0">On a calm jetty looking off to Mecca<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons of Mahomet watch the low day's rim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He too is waiting for it—with an echo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his lips of a believer's hymn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The red gate-towers rise against the twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palace of the heathen king is hid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white bridge bent across the moat beside it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems now of all unholinesses rid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wishes it were so with all this city<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose Buddha-built pagodas skyward swim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he can only gaze on them and pity—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sing within his heart a Christian hymn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PARSEE WOMAN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>At Bombay</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cast me out from among you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not see my child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid aloft where the vultures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May clamour for him, wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth you say is holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to be soiled by death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a Parsee still should hold divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Zoroaster saith.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, and so I will hold it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But see his pale sweet face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As pure as the palest flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left dead in Spring's embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun we worship daily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrined it for seven years,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall it go to cruel beaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There where the sea-wind veers?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, no, no! tho you send me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A beggar from your door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, my lord, whom I honour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you, his sisters four,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom there have come no children<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make your bosoms feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How even a thought so full of throe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can make my sick brain reel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loathe, as a thing defiled?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lord, I am but a woman<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who longs to see her child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid in a tomb, entreasured<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shrouding sod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O would I had never given birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that earth had no God!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I see as in a pale mirage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palm that o'er you sways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters of the Jumna wan are beating.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dome of grief betrays—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world is wider than I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that your face is gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While you were here no destiny seemed boundless.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So I am lost and find no clue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To any dusk or dawn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life has become a quest decayed and groundless.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come back! come back or let me find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jungle leads at last<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Unto your lips and bosom recreated!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O somewhere I again must wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My arms about you, cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into one word my love all unabated!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h2>PRINCESS JEHANARA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the road leads from Delhi to the South,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dingy camel-trains creep in the dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past ruin-heaps of old Firozabad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Indropat unpitied of the drouth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a lone tree, above a Pool whose sad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayer-water all the turban-people trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is a heat-hidden tomb, and on it just<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few faint blades of bent and grieving grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Jehanara's it is," with ready mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Moslem tells the stranger, "once she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The covering of the poor is only grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it be mine alone when I am dead.'"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who has stood there, where about her Rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise high Imperial tombs, knows hers is best.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the cocoanut-palm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That pines, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away from the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the planter's voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am I, for I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more resound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your song by the pearl-strewn sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun may come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the moon wax round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mates may rejoice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I feast not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart is dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I long, O long, for thee!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the jungle-deeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the cobra creeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leopard lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wait for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the daylight dies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is more to my dread than he!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harsh lonely tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That assail my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are worse to bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the misery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That makes them well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the long, long years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I moan away from thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O again, again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my katamaran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-keel would I push<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your palmy door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again would I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heave and hush</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of your song by the plantain-tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do I toil and crush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hopes that arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At my sick heart's core.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does it come, the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That draws me again to thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE ARABIAN GULF</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From a far minaret of faithful cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wraith-muezzin of the sunset cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the sea that swung with sultan pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Allah is Beauty, there is none beside!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allah is Beauty, not to be denied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Death or any Infidel dark-browed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And every wave that worshipped, every one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the mosque of heaven arching high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted a white crest with assenting sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And answered, "Let all gods but Allah die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, let all gods! until the world shall cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty alone is left under the sun!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RAMESSID</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon an image of immortal stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seated and vast, the moon of Luxor falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lending to it a stillness that appals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mystery Osirian and strange.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hands outplaced upon the knees in lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And placid majesty reveal the power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Egypt in her most triumphal hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The calm of tyranny that cannot change.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is of that Great king, who heard the cries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of millions toil to lift him to the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saw them perish at their task like flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet let no eye of pity o'er them range.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What rue, then, if his desecrated face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rots now at Cairo in a mummy case?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> +<h2>IMMORTAL FOES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Bedrashein between the pyramids<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the wingèd sun fold up his pinions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sink into the nether world's dominions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Set sent ill on the Egyptian dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the ancient Desert, that outbids<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Nile for the date-lands between them spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fling over Memphis that is vanishèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another shroud of sand, then bid his minions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds, lie down upon their boundless bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw where temples vowed to Serapis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And granite splendours men name Pharaonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are kept by Time in silence and sardonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concealment—mummied in deep mystic tombs.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And when the stars came out in quiet bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard Eternity with all its dooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past and to come, sound softly the mnemonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Death who waits all worlds that Life enwombs.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CONSCRIPT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The camel at the old sakiyeh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toils around and round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aweary is he of the Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of the wailing sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the slow wheel he turns all day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lift the water on its way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the fields of Ahmed Bey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with green grain abound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aweary is he, too, of fellàheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who compel him on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thick-voiced chanting till the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the West has gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the bold Desert was he made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bedouin, his lord, to aid,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Not for this peasant wheel of trade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever must be drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But on he toils while dahabiyeh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark felucca glide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below him on the glassy flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the gray river's tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then when the night has come lies down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sleep the servile day to drown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like all whom Life turns with a frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their true fate aside.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2>NAVIS IGNOTA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord, what ship goes forth to-day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see her setting West.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she have thy winds aright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stars to guide her with their light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she sweep the seas to sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of land and harbour-rest?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Awful is thy ocean-wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none can chart thy shoals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When storm unassuaging hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blotted sun and planet-path.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she, Lord, escape the scath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live, with all her souls?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For it is a beauteous thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ships should sail the sea.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Splendid is their plunge and swing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into waves that foam and fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maelstroms at their bows to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them down to destiny.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she, too, courageous rides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away into the gloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now her lights are lost in tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the windy spray that glides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro the darkness, Lord, abides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Dove with her—or Doom?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I shall know perhaps some day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, knowing not, recall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How my heart was fain to pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a ship that bravely lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her task: O Lord, so may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each vessel of us all!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the Holy Sepulchre, breast-high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a cross uncounted lips have kissed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Millions the world to dust has long dismissed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Millions that now hope of it but to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pilgrims, I saw, from out far fervid lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of superstition, North and West and South,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bend to it each a trembling, reverent mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then kneel where Christ was said to loose Death's bands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I wondered if He who believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the One God were wounded sore by this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether He shrinks at each ecstatic kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or knowing how humanity is grieved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knows too that it is better to give Hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than Truth, if only one is in man's scope.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE NUN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A lone palm leans in the moonlight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over a convent wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea below is waking and breaking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With quiet heave and fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A young nun sits at the window;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Heaven she is too fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet even the Dove of God might nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her bosom beating there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A lone ship sails from the harbour:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom does it bear away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lover who sin-hearted has parted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left her but to pray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has no lover, nor ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has heard afar love's sigh.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Only the convent's vesper vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has ever dimmed her eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For naught knows she of her beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than the palm of its peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who beyond Christ's portal to mortal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desires would bend her knees?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ways of the World have flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And any who will pluck those;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let there ever be a place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where none may pluck God's rose.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<h2>ALPINE CHANT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are rising white around me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snow peaks like patriarchs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Winter has enthroned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping up the valleys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the cataracts sound me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thunders they have shrilly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From eternity intoned.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the clouds for my companions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft clouds that float and cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From crag to cloven crag.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm passing by the chalets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That o'erhang the high cañons,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Passing where the shepherds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the flocks they pipe to lag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pines in proud procession<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climb like a hardy host<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To halo-heights of sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm listening for the sallies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the avalanche's Hessian<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurl of ice and granite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into gulfs Avernian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wind is yodling to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yearnings of the glaciers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flow to summer lands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm treading up the valleys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no wanting to undo me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to-day I'm goalless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great God understands!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MAN OF MIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No moment drooped between his thought and action,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No morrow died between his dream and deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within his soul there was no fatal faction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That could betray him in his hour of need.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN TIME OF AWE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fierce sea-sunset over the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springs like a wounded spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves all day have hissed and hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ships in the gray gale's lair have furled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their sails—well may they fear it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The night will be but a monstrous seethe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of terrors elemental.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gloom the winds that in them breathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that lives in the sea beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fear shall be made gentle;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And sink down, down to the nether deeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the foam and fretting.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Down where the sullen water sleeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alway and the slow sand coldly creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the lone wreck, which Death keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To guard him 'gainst forgetting.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there in the ominous vast calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll harbour, like enchanted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chill shapes he has strangely conjured from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silence of his masterdom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There float till again they feel the qualm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hunger thro them panted.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then once more far up will they spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drift and sport and plunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shark, eel and whale and devil-thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tooth to rend and tail to sting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the sea, O God, does horror cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And haunting past all wonder.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> +<h2>SUNRISE IN UTAH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And terrible in an eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death took silently the sunrise on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purple funereal from rifted skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept down across their proud sterility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to die as here all glory dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On barrenness I did not dream could be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, for a bird-song! or opening lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of but one flower upon the fatal air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For but the voice of water as it drips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, for these, for life! or from the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the world wipe so irreparable a place!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONSOLATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie softly at my feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun has worked his will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the day is done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come to me softly and distil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your dews and dreams, that heat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hours of heartless glare have overrun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring with you the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire-flies and the whippoorwill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ah, the moon—<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soft interpretings can still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tangled tongues of right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrong, and hope and fear, that haunt the noon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let there follow Sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is God's tidal Will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That overflows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world—obliterating ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its soothing sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring more of mercy than man knows.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> +<h2>WAVES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The evening sails come home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With twilight in their wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The harbour-light across the gloam<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Springs;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind sings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The waves begin to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea's night-sorrow o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaving within their ancient spell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than earth's lore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rising moon wafts strange<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low lures across the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which my dim thoughts seem to range,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Stride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon stride,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Until, with flooding thrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They seem at last to blend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With waves that from the Eternal Will<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without end.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIS ULTIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is no day but leads me to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peak impossible to scale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A task at which my hands must fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sea I cannot swim or sail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no night I suffer thro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Destiny rules stern and pale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet what I am meant to do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will do, ere Death drop his veil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And it shall be no little thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho to oblivion it fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I shall strive to it thro all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That can imperil or appal.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +<span class="i0">So at each morning's trumpet-ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mount again, less slave and thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the barriers gladly fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fortitude that scorns to crawl.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<h2>MEREDITH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What am I reading? He is dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He the great interpreter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seer—England's noblest head?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What am I reading? It is hushed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deepest voice that life had found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To read a century profound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all time's seethe and stir?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, it is but a scanty score<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of days, since, at his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasping his hand with more than pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felt that the immortal tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his great mind would long break o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cold command of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in my ear is echoing<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The surf of his strong words, and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the wild trees on the Hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cottage sheltered under,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see the toss of his gray locks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Lear's—for he had felt the sting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all too greatly giving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kingdom of his mind to those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who for it held him mad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O England, guard thy living<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like him from a like fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For not the mighty thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy proud name from all the rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the world can compensate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nation whom no Song makes glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whom no Seer makes great.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30225 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b087dfb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30225 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30225) diff --git a/old/30225-8.txt b/old/30225-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..99b0ab4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30225-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2505 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Many Gods + +Author: Cale Young Rice + +Release Date: October 10, 2009 [EBook #30225] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + +MANY GODS + + +OTHER BOOKS BY +CALE YOUNG RICE + + Nirvana Days + Yolanda of Cyprus + Plays and Lyrics + A Night in Avignon + Charles di Tocca + David + + + + +MANY GODS + +BY + +CALE YOUNG RICE + +NEW YORK +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +MCMX + + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910 + + +TO + +FINIS KING FARR + +AN OLD + +AND DEAR COMRADE + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PAGE + +"ALL'S WELL" 3 + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS 6 + +LOVE IN JAPAN 10 + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA 13 + +TYPHOON 15 + +PENANG 17 + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW 20 + +THE PAGODA SLAVE 22 + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA 25 + +KINCHINJUNGA 26 + +THE BARREN WOMAN 29 + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL 32 + +LOVE'S CYNIC 35 + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN 42 + +THE WIND'S WORD 46 + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES 47 + +FROM A FELUCCA 48 + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES 49 + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE 50 + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER 52 + +A SONG OF THE SECTS 54 + +THE CITY 57 + +VIA AMOROSA 58 + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA 60 + +THE WANDERER 61 + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN 64 + +FAR FUJIYAMA 65 + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN 66 + +OLD AGE 68 + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG 69 + +THE SEA-ARMIES 71 + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE 73 + +THE PARSEE WOMAN 75 + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL 77 + +PRINCESS JEHANARA 79 + +A CINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT 80 + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF 83 + +THE RAMESSID 84 + +IMMORTAL FOES 85 + +THE CONSCRIPT 87 + +NAVIS IGNOTA 89 + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE 91 + +THE NUN 92 + +ALPINE CHANT 94 + +THE MAN OF MIGHT 96 + +IN TIME OF AWE 97 + +SUNRISE IN UTAH 99 + +CONSOLATION 100 + +WAVES 102 + +VIS ULTIMA 104 + +MEREDITH 106 + + + + +MANY GODS + + + + +"ALL'S WELL" + + +I + +The illimitable leaping of the sea, +The mouthing of his madness to the moon, +The seething of his endless sorcery, +His prophecy no power can attune, +Swept over me as, on the sounding prow +Of a great ship that steered into the stars, +I stood and felt the awe upon my brow +Of death and destiny and all that mars. + + +II + +The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast +Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung; +The sailor in his eyrie on the mast +Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung +Like a lost voice from some aërial realm +Where ships sail on forever to no shore, +Where Time gives Immortality the helm, +And fades like a far phantom from life's door. + + +III + +"And is all well, O Thou Unweariable +Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space," +Rose in me, "All? or did thy hand grow dull +Building this world that bears a piteous race? +O was it launched too soon or launched too late? +Or can it be a derelict that drifts +Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate +On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts?" + + +IV + +The sea grew softer as I questioned--calm +With mystery that like an answer moved, +And from infinity there fell a balm, +The old peace that God _is_, tho all unproved. +The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun +The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep, +There is no world that wanders, no not one +Of all the millions, that He does not keep. + + + + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS + +(_In Japan_) + + + Where the fair golden idols + Sit in darkness and in silence +While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow; + Where the tall cryptomerias + Sway in worship round about +And the rain that is falling whispers low; + I can hear strange voices + Of the dead and forgotten, +On the dimly rising incense I can see + The lives I have lived, + And my lives unbegotten, +_Namu Amida Butsu_ pity me! + + I was born this karma + Of a mother in Chuzenji, +Where Nantai-zan looks down into the lake; + Where the white-thronged pilgrims + Climb to altars in the clouds +And behold the holy eastern dawn awake. + It was there I wandered + Till a priest of the Christians +With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze. + In grief I had grown, + So upon its grief I pondered. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, keep my days! + + It was wrong, he told me, + To pray Jiso for my children, +And Binzuru for healing of my ills. + And our gods so many + Were conceived, he said, in sin, +From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills. + In despair I listened + For my heart beat hopeless, +Not a temple of my land had helped me live. + But alas that day + When I let my soul be christened! +_Namu Amida Butsu_, O forgive! + + For the Christ they gave me + As the only Law and Lotus, +As the only way to Light that will not wane, + May perchance have power + For the people of the West, +But to me he seemed the servitor of pain. + For in pain he perished + As one born to passion: +In some other life no doubt his sin was great, + Tho they told me no, + Those who followed him and cherished. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, such is fate. + + So again to idols + Of the Buddha who is boundless, +While the temple drum is beating thro the rain, + I have turned from treason + Into Meditation's truth, +From the strife the Western god regards as gain. + And if now I'm dying + As the voices tell me, +To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go; + Till my long grief ends + In Nirvana, and my sighing. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, be it so! + + + + +LOVE IN JAPAN + + +I + +Dragon-fly lighting +On the temple-bell, +Whose soul do you hear +On the Day of the Dead? +The soul of my lover? +Ah me, the plighting +Between two hearts +That were never wed! + +Dragon-fly, quickly, +The priest is coming! +Oh, the boom +Of the bitter bell! +Now you are gone +And my tears fall thickly. +How of Heaven +Do the gods make Hell! + + +II + +The sêmi is silent + (Autumn rains!) +The wind-bells tinkle + (How chill it is!) +The quick lights come +On the shoji-panes. +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The maple darkens + (Pale grow I!) +The near night shivers + (The temple fades.) + +Haunting love +Will not cease to cry! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The wild mists gather + (Ah, my tears!) +The pane-lights vanish + (For some there is rest.) +But for me-- +The remembered years! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + + + + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA + + +The summer has come, +The summer has gone, +And the maple leaves lift fairy hands +That ripple upon the winds of dawn +Where the dim pagoda stands. +They ripple and beckon yearningly +To their sister fairies over the sea, +But help comes not, +So they fall and flee +From Autumn over the sands. + +And down the mountain +And into the tide, +Some are blown where the sampans glide, +And some are strewn by the temple's side, +And some by the torii. +But Autumn ever +Pursues them till, +As ever before, +She has her will, +And leaves them desolate, dead and still, +Ravished afar and wide; +Leaves them desolate; crying shrill, +"No beauty shall abide!" + + + + +TYPHOON + +(_At Hong-kong_) + + +I was weary and slept on the Peak; + The air clung close like a shroud, +And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear + Hung haunting and hot and loud; +I awoke and the sky was dun + With awe and a dread that soon +Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew + That it meant typhoon! typhoon! + +In the harbour below, far down, + The junks like fowl in a flock +Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled + Fluttering in from the shock. +The city, a breathless bend + Of roofs, by the water strewn, +Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none + Within it but said typhoon! + +Then it came, like a million winds + Gone mad immeasurably, +A torrid and tortuous tempest stung + By rape of the fair South Sea. +And it swept like a scud escaped + From craters of sun or moon, +And struck as no power of Heaven could, + Or of Hell--typhoon! typhoon! + +And the junks were smitten and torn, + The drowning struggled and cried, +Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea, + In succourless hundreds died. +Till I shut the sight from my eyes + And prayed for my soul to swoon: +If ever I see God's face, let it + Be guiltless of that typhoon! + + + + +PENANG + + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits, +To a bungalow I know beside Penang; + Where cocoanut palms along the shore + Are waving, and the gates +Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore. + I want to go back and hear the surf + Come beating in at night, +Like the washing of eternity over the dead. + I want to see dawn fare up and day + Go down in golden light; +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And up along the Straits +To the bungalow that waits me by the tide. + Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore + At evening--and the fates +Have set no soothless canker at life's core. + I want to go back and mend my heart + Beneath the tropic moon, +While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep. + I want to believe that Earth again + With Heaven is in tune. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits +To the bungalow I left upon the strand. + Where the foam of the world grows faint before + It enters, and abates +In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour. + I want to go back and end my days + Some evening when the Cross +On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad. + I want to remember when I die + That life elsewhere was loss. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + + + + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When the wind is low, and the sea is soft, + And the far heat-lightning plays +On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest + On a darker bank of haze; +When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love + And gaze to my heart's content; +I know that the heavens are there above-- + But you are my firmament. + +When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow + And the watch climbs up the shroud; +When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips + Thro the foam that seethes aloud; +I know that the years of our life are few, + And fain as a bird to flee, +That time is as brief as a drop of dew-- + But you are Eternity. + + + + +THE PAGODA SLAVE + +(_At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon_) + + +All night long the pagoda slave +Hears the wind-bells high in the air +Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave + In praise of Lord Gautama. +All night long where the lone spire sends +Its golden height to the starry light + He hears their tune + And watches the moon +And fears he shall never reach Nirvana. + +Round and round by a hundred shrines +Glittering at the great Shwe's base +Falls the sound of his feet mid lines + Droned from the sacred Wisdom. +Round and round where the idols gaze +So pitiless on his pained distress + He passes on, + Pale-eyed and wan-- +A pariah like the dogs behind him. + +Oh, what sin in a life begot +Thousands of lives ago did he sin +That he is now by all forgot, + Even by Lord Gautama? +Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun +His very name as a thing of shame-- + A sound to taint + The winds that faint +From the high bells that hear it uttered! + +Midnight comes and the hours of morn, +Tapers die and the flowers all +From the most fêted altars: lorn + And desolate is their odour. +Midnight goes, but he watches still +By each cold spire the moon sets fire, + By every palm + Whose silvery calm +Pillar and jewelled porch pray under. + +Is it dawn that is breaking?... No, +Only a star that falls in the sea, +Only a wind-bell's louder flow + Of praise to Lord Gautama. +Faithless dawn! with illusive feet +It comes too late to ease his fate. + He sinks asleep + A helpless heap, +Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana. + + + + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA + + +Into port when the sun was setting + Rode the ship that bore my love, +Over the breakers wildly fretting, + Under the skies that shone above. + +Down to the beach I ran to meet him; + He would come as he had said: + And he came--in a sailor's coffin, + Dead!... + +O the ships of the sea! the women + They from all hope but Heaven part! +The tide has nothing now to tell me, + The breakers only break my heart! + + + + +KINCHINJUNGA + +(_Which is the next highest of mountains_) + + +I + +O white Priest of Eternity, around +Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise +Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice +To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies; +O Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows, +First-born of Asia whose maternal throes +Seem changed now to a million human woes, +Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound +One sigh of all the mystery in thee found. + + +II + +For in this world too much is overclear, +Immortal Ministrant to many lands, +From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands +Rivers that each libation poured expands. +Too much is known, O Ganges-giving sire; +Thy people fathom life and find it dire, +Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire +To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere, +Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear. + + +III + +Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites, +Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls +In strange austerity, whose trance appals, +Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls. +Continue still thy silence high and sure, +That something beyond fleeting may endure-- +Something that shall forevermore allure +Imagination on to mystic flights +Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights. + + +IV + +Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes +Of lifted granite round with reachless snows. +Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows +Of all the nations envy thy repose. +Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled. +Be that alone on earth which has not failed. +Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed, +But since primeval Power upreared thy heights +Has stood above all deaths and all delights. + + +V + +And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King, +High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed, +While thy white sanctity forever sealed +In icy silence leaves desire congealed. +In ghostly ministrations to the sun, +And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun, +Be holy still, till East to West has run, +And till no sacrificial suffering +On any shrine is left to tell life's sting. + + + + +THE BARREN WOMAN + +(_Benares_) + + +At the burning-ghat, O Kali, + Mother divine and dread, +See, I am waiting with open lips + Over the newly dead. +I am childless and barren; pity + And let me catch the soul +Of him who here on the kindled bier + Pays to Existence toll. + +See, by his guileless body + I cook the bread and eat. +Give me the soul he does not need + Now, for conception sweet. +Hear, or my lord and husband + Shall send me from his door +And take to his side a fairer bride + Whose breast shall be less poor. + +Oft I have sought thy temples, + By Ganges now I seek, +Where ashes of all the dead are strewn, + And is my prayer not meek? +The ghats and the shrines and the people + That bathe in the holy Stream +Have heard my cry, O goddess high, + Shall I not have my dream? + +The women of Oudh and Jaipur + Look on my face with scorn. +Children about their garments cling, + To me shall none be born? +The death-fires quiver faster, + O hasten, goddess, a sign, +That from this doom into my womb + Thy pledge has passed, divine. + +Woe! there is naught but ashes, + Now, and the weepers go. +Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone, + With but the River's flow. +Kali, I ask not jewels + Nor justice, beauty nor shrift, +But for the lowest woman's right, + A child--tho I die of the gift! + + + + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL + + +Under the Indian stars, +Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting, +Watching them wind their silent way +Over your wistful Tomb; +Watching the crescent prow +Of the moon among them flitting, +Fair as the shallop that bore your soul +To Paradise's Room. + +Under the Indian stars, +With palm and peepul about me, +With dome and kiosk and minaret +Mounting against the sky, +I seem to see your face +In all the fairness without me; +In all the sadness that fills my heart +To hear your lover's cry. + +Under the Indian stars +I look for your Jasmine Tower, +Along the River whose barren bed +Lies gray beneath the moon. +And thro its magic doors +You seem like a spirit flower, +Wandering back from Allah's bourne +To seek for some lost boon. + +Under the Indian stars +I see you softly moving, +Among your jewel-lit maidens there, +A sweet and ghostly queen, +And the scent of attar flung +In your marble font seems proving +That passion never can die from love, +If truly love has been. + +Under the Indian stars +_He_ comes, "the Shadow of Allah," +Jehan, the lord of Magnificence, +The liege who holds your heart. +The silver doors swing back +And alone with him you hallow +The amorous night--whose moon has made +Such visions in me start. + +Under the Indian stars-- +But the end of all is moaning! +I hear his dying breath that from +Your Tomb shall never die. +For every jasper flower +He set in its dream seems loaning +To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal, +And unto Fate a sigh. + + + + +LOVE'S CYNIC + + +I + +O you poets, ever pretending + Love is immortal, pipe the truth! +Empty your books of lies, the ending + Of no passion can be--Youth. +"Heaven," you breathe, "will join the broken?" + Come, was the Infinite e'er wed, +That He must evermore be thinking + Of your wedding bed? + + +II + +Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour + Out of your rhymes and rip your dream. +Do you believe words can enamour + Death and dry up Lethe's stream? +Death? it is but a Sponge that passes, + One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze +Back into Lethe's flood--whose lasting + Is eternities. + + +III + +"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming + Blasphemy!"--Well, look around. +Is it not only in blaspheming + Truth is ever to be found? +Whether it be, one thing I ask you, + Lovers and poets, tell, I pray, +Was there ever a love-oath ended + Ere the Judgment Day? + + +IV + +"O," you answer, "ill is in all things." + But in an ancient lie what's good? +Is it not better just to call things + What they are--not what we would? +When you are clinging to your mistress, + Love has the face of Eternity. +Cling to her then, but know that Wanting + Fools the best that be. + + +V + +"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur + All the music," you say, "of God!" +Press her lips but a little firmer-- + You will feel that they are--sod. +"But there is living soul beyond them, + And it is love's till all things end?" +Children alone build Paradises + With but pence to spend. + + +VI + +"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic," + Pitying runs your poet-smile, +"He has sat at the Devil's clinic + With some dead love up the while." +Dead or alive are one with passions, + Under the potent knife of Truth +They will be seen composed of craving-- + And a little ruth. + + +VII + +"Then the world on a lie is living?" + Many a lie has filled its maw! +"Better illusion tho than giving + Faith to a fatal loveless Law?" +There is a certain Socratean + Saying that swine of their ditch are sure; +Yet do they prove by their contentment + That it will endure? + + +VIII + +Clasp her close! But the truth is in you, + Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down, +Hid it with honey-words that win you + Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown. +Kings they will call you and uplifters + Of your kind? Lord save the mark, +That we are still for fire dependent + On so false a spark. + + +IX + +And so fond! for you hold immortal + What has been born a day or two! +"But it was destined?" Ay, your portal + Only has God to heed--and you! +He with his thrice three million thirsting + Worlds in the throes of death and life +Surely has time to spare for choosing + Your behooven wife! + + +X + +By my faith, there is not a creature + Mad as a poet, pants the breeze! +Give him a mistress and he'll preach her + As creation's Masterpiece. +Let him but lean for half an hour + Over her lips and he will swear +That he would dive thro death unfathomed + To regain her there. + + +XI + +And believe that his oath is able! + That there is not in all the sea +Water enough to quench the fable + Of his soul's intensity. +Yet there was never a rose that blossomed + And endured beyond its day. +There was never a fire enkindled + But the great Cold had its way. + + +XII + +"Pessimist," is your mortal answer, + "Wait till the love-wind pierces you!" +Wait? I have been the veriest dancer + To it, and, dupe still, would do +Truth to the death--shall I confess it?-- + For but a moment on one breast. +Wherefore I add--and Adam bless it!-- + Who loves once is like the rest. + + + + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN + +(_Peradeniya, Ceylon_) + + +I + +The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long, + With fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things. +The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate strange and strong, + And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment brings. + + +II + +The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra slips in peace + Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as a presage of his power. +And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool astounded, sees, + Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour. + + +III + +The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree to tree + Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to the tangle of their sprays. +The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee + Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze + +IV + +And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire, + The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await +What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire + Will next be laid upon some lesser mate. + + +V + +The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth + He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent lost in trance; +And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it, in stealth + Pour it upon the air like necromance. + + +VI + +And down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean + Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth +Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is seen + More of his mazing wizardry in birth. + + +VII + +All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands + With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth. +All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands + Chant of it in chill strain from South to North. + + +VIII + +A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made reality + As swift as clouds are made when the young Monsoon is in the South. +A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be + Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth. + + + + +THE WIND'S WORD + + + A star that I love, + The sea, and I, +Spake together across the night. + "Have peace," said the star, + "Have power," said the sea, +"Yea!" I answered, "and Fame's delight!" + + The wind on his way + To Araby +Paused and listened and sighed and said, + "I passed on the sands + A Pharaoh's tomb: +All these did he have--and he is dead." + + + + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES + + +There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile +A temple of imperishable stone, +Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known +To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine. +Half in debris it stands, a granite pile +Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection, +An awe, an inspiration, a dejection +To all who would the cryptic past divine. +The god of it was Ammon, and a throng +Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated +Forever at its fervid pylons waited +While priests poured ever a prophetic song. +And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws, +Is not--and is forgot--and never was! + + + + +FROM A FELUCCA + + +A white tomb in the desert, +An Arab at his prayers +Beside the Nile's dark water, +Where the lone camel fares. +An ibis on the sunset, +A slow shadouf at rest, +And in the caravansary +Low music for the guest. + +Above the tawny city +A gleam of minarets, +Resounding the muezzin's +Clear call as the sun sets. +A mystery, a silence, +A breathing of strange balm, +A peace from Allah on the wind +And on the sky his calm. + + + + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES + + +I woke at night in my eternal tomb +The desert sands had hid a thousand years, +And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom +Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods!" +I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears, +And sought the barterers of grain and wine +Culled for the praise and service of divine +Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods. +But as I passed along, woe! what was this, +Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes +Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains +That swept across my startled thought's abyss! +I moaned. My body crumbled into dust. +And then my soul fled Here--where all souls must. + + + + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE + + +Behold, the wind of the Desert rose, + Khamsin, in a shroud of sand, +And swept the Libyan waste, across + To far Somali-land. +His voice was thick with the drouth of death +And smote the earth as a burning breath, +Or as a curse which Allah saith + Unto a demon-band. + +The caravan from the oasis + Of palm-engirt Kûrkûr +Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps, + The horror to endure. +Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell +Who longs for the lute of Israfel, +Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well, + Imperishably pure! + +Three days he longed, and the wind three days + About him whirled the shroud. +Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun-- + And a gaunt vulture-crowd. +A few bleak bones on the Desert still + Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill +Again into life--if Allah will: + _Let not your heart be proud._ + + + + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER + + +I + +Many are on the sea to-day + With all sails set. +The tide rolls in a restive gray, + The wind blows wet. +The gull is weary of his wings, +And I am weary of all things. + +Heavy upon me longing lies, + My sad eyes gaze +Across the leagues that sink and rise + And sink always. +My life has sunk and risen so, +I'd have it cease awhile to flow. + + +II + +All the winds of the sea weary, + All the waves of the sea rest, +All the wants of my heart settle + Softly now in my breast. +All the stars that in heaven anchor, + Golden buoys of Elysian light, +Send me across the gulf promise + That I am faring right. + +So while clouds that are left lonely + At the gates of the far West +Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller + Stealing from her nest, +I am held by a low vesper + Haunting afar the vague twilight, +Then with my soul at peace whisper + Hallowedly good-night. + + + + +A SONG OF THE SECTS + +(_In a Jerusalem tavern_) + + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr, +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Armenian sings_ + +The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a braggart face +He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in place. +In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the blasphemer! +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Latin sings_ + +The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images, +And damns your soul to Hell--no purgatory, if you please! +About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr, +But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Copt sings_ + +Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are worst, +They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ the first. +No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix heathen myrrh-- +Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Greek sings_ + +The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible. +Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his skull +Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie aver-- +Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Four again_ + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a Juniper, +For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + + + + +THE CITY + + +Soft and fair by the Desert's edge, + And on the dim blue edge of the sea, +Where white gulls wing all day and fledge +Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge, +There is a city I have beheld, +Sometime or where, by day or dream, +I know not which, for it seems enspelled + As I am by its memory. + +Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce + Above it into the white of the skies, +And sails enchanted a thousand years +Flit at its feet while fancy steers. +No face of all its faces to me +Is known--no passion of it or pain. +It is but a city by the sea, + Enshrined forever beyond my eyes! + + + + +VIA AMOROSA + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When we two walk, my love, on the path + The moon makes over the sea, +To the end of the world where sorrow hath + An end that is ecstasy, +Should we not think of the other road + Of wearying dust and stone +Our feet would fare did each but care + To follow the way alone? + +When we two slip at night to the skies + And find one star that we keep +As a trysting-place to which our eyes + May lead our souls ere sleep, +Should we not pause for a little space + And think how many must sigh +Because they gaze over starry ways + With no heart-comrade by? + +When we two then lie down to our dreams + That deepen still the delight +Of our wandering where stars and streams + Stray in immortal light, +Should we not grieve with the myriads + From East of earth to West +Who lay them down at night but to drown + The longing for some loved breast? + +Ah, yes, for life has a thousand gifts, + But love it is gives life. +Who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts + A soul that is sorrow-rife. +But they to whom it is given to tread + The moon-path and not sink +Can ever say the unhappiest way + Earth has is fair to the brink. + + + + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA + + +Softly the bamboo bends +As the sun sinks down unglowing, +Softer the willow ends +A sigh to the dusk around. +Quickly the brief bat wends +His flittering way, thro flowing +Fields of the autumn air, +That are husht of the city's sound. + +Temple and thatch and stream +Are forgetting the light that lingers, +Mountain and mist in dream +Already are lost, afar. +Faintingly comes the beam +Of the moon--then viewless fingers +Tinkle a samisen, +And astir on the East is a star. + + + + +THE WANDERER + + + When moonlight on the face + Of the great Buddha falls + As he sits in Nirvana + On the shores of Kamakura, + When the pines about him place + Soft shadows at his feet +Like offerings of penitence and tears, + I hear in the grace + Of the wind's low susurra + A voice that calls me still + To my home within the West, + But I've lingered overlong + In the East's strange arcana +And no more is there desire within my breast. + + I left it when a boy, + That far home and, alas, + 'Twas so fair that my dreaming + Earth had fairer was a madness. + I left it for the joy + Of wandering the world, +And heathen-hearted lands have I beheld! + But when at last cloy + Of delight brought sadness + Like lotus to my veins, + And forgetfulness seemed fate, + I had fared unto this shrine + And the moon as now was beaming, +And here have I awaited--and await. + + But not for any gift + Of its god, or any grace + That in living or in dying + Men in text or sutra sigh for. + And not for any shrift + Nirvana has, or skies +Where Paradise imperishably smiles. + But only for the sift + Of the wind, that seems to die for + My soul's enduring peace + In the dwelling of the Tomb. + And only for the drift + Of the moon that comes denying +Eternity to everything but Doom. + + + + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN + + +Under the torii, robed in green, + The old priest creeps to the shrine. +Over the bridge the still stork stands, + The crow caws not in the pine. + +Far in the distance bugles blow, + War's bloody memory wakes. +The priest prays on--for his sons that are dead, + And the heart within him breaks. + + + + +FAR FUJIYAMA + + +Against the phantom gold of failing skies +I see the ghost of Fujiyama rise +And think of the innumerable eyes + That have beheld its vision sunset-crowned. +The peasant in his field of rice or tea, +The prince in gardens dreaming by the sea, +The priest to whom the sêmi in the tree + Was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound. + +And as I think upon them, lo, the trance +Of backward time and distant circumstance, +Of Karma's all-remembering necromance, + Lies suddenly before my boundless sight. +It is as if, a moment, Buddhahood +Were given to me; as if understood +At last were vague Nirvana's vaguer good; + As if time were dissolved in living light. + + + + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +Out on the sea the sampans ride + And the mountains brim with mist and sun. +O we are in Japan again + And the spell is about us spun! +The spell of the old enchanting East, +Of Buddha and many a blissful priest, +The spell that has never, never ceased + To haunt us! + +Glad we behold the temple-tops + And the lanterns in religious row +Standing, like acolytes of stone, + Where the pine and camphor grow. +And o'er them the old pagoda prays +Blessing upon their dreaming days, +And upon the eightfold sacred ways + From Sorrow! + +Ah, and the torii too is there + Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine +Daily, with tidal mystery + And majesty divine. +He enters now, as the nuptial sea +Of love first entered our hearts, to be +Lord of their tides eternally, + And Master! + + + + +OLD AGE + + +I have heard the wild geese, + I have seen the leaves fall, +There was frost last night + On the garden wall. +It is gone to-day + And I hear the wind call. + The wind?... that is all. + +If the swallow will light + When evening is near; +If the crane will not scream + Like a soul in fear; +I will think no more + Of the dying year, + And the wind, its seer. + + + + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG + + + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junk + And tatterdemalion sampan glide, +Sails of brown and black and yellow swinging. + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junks + Fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide, + Forth to the sea in sloth they ride, + The coolies singing. + + Off in the field the peasant toils + And along the canal the low tows slip, +Fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them. + Off in the field the peasant toils-- + With lip and brow the dull years strip + Bare of the dreams of life, whose grip + Has grimly drawn them. + + High on the hill the yamên rests + And the temple beside it sleeps in sun, +Far in the distance faints the city dreary. + High on the hill the yamên rests, + And dun dead shadows o'er it run: + This is the land where Time begun + And now grows weary. + + + + +THE SEA-ARMIES + + + The wild sea-armies led by the wind + Are following in our wake, +White-crested shouting millions moving on. + They have broken their camp of Calm and o'er + The world rebellion make, +With banner of cloud and mist above them drawn. + + They have heard the call of infinite Death, + The ordering of his word, +"Arise, go forth and conquer where ye can; + For that is the only law ye know, + Its mandate men have heard, +Let them beware when they your path would span. + + "Let them beware, for I am lord + Of all that on earth has name, +And unto you is given most my might. + Ride on, ye have many a ship to rend, + And many a mast to maim, +And many a land to lash and soul to fright." + + So on they ride, a ravaging horde, + From shore to shuddering shore, +Beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn; + Nor know that when they have camped again + And sleep, Life will restore +Unto her world the hope they have withdrawn. + + + + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE + +(_Mandalay_) + + +The palms along the old fort wall are paling, + The mountains in the evening light are red, +The moon has dropped into the moat from heaven, + A spell barbaric over all is spread. +But what is that to him, a stranger lonely, + In a land strange to all his faith and dim? +He cares not for old splendours, he would only + Hear on the air a simple Sabbath hymn. + +The paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking + From the tall tamarind unto their nest, +The bullock-carts along the road are creaking, + The bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest. +On a calm jetty looking off to Mecca + Sons of Mahomet watch the low day's rim. +He too is waiting for it--with an echo + Upon his lips of a believer's hymn. + +The red gate-towers rise against the twilight, + The palace of the heathen king is hid, +The white bridge bent across the moat beside it + Seems now of all unholinesses rid. +He wishes it were so with all this city + Whose Buddha-built pagodas skyward swim; +But he can only gaze on them and pity-- + And sing within his heart a Christian hymn. + + + + +THE PARSEE WOMAN + +(_At Bombay_) + + +Cast me out from among you, + I will not see my child +Laid aloft where the vultures + May clamour for him, wild! +The earth you say is holy, + Not to be soiled by death, +And a Parsee still should hold divine + What Zoroaster saith. + +Ay, and so I will hold it, + But see his pale sweet face, +As pure as the palest flower + Left dead in Spring's embrace. +The sun we worship daily + Shrined it for seven years, +Then shall it go to cruel beaks, + There where the sea-wind veers? + +No, no, no! tho you send me + A beggar from your door, +You, my lord, whom I honour, + And you, his sisters four, +To whom there have come no children + To make your bosoms feel +How even a thought so full of throe + Can make my sick brain reel. + +Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me + And loathe, as a thing defiled? +My lord, I am but a woman + Who longs to see her child +Laid in a tomb, entreasured + Under the shrouding sod. +O would I had never given birth, + Or that earth had no God! + + + + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL + + + I see as in a pale mirage + The palm that o'er you sways, +The waters of the Jumna wan are beating. + One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj, + A dome of grief betrays-- +Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting! + + The world is wider than I knew + Now that your face is gone! +While you were here no destiny seemed boundless. + So I am lost and find no clue + To any dusk or dawn! +Life has become a quest decayed and groundless. + + Come back! come back or let me find + The jungle leads at last +Unto your lips and bosom recreated! + O somewhere I again must wind + My arms about you, cast +Into one word my love all unabated! + + + + +PRINCESS JEHANARA + + +Where the road leads from Delhi to the South, +And dingy camel-trains creep in the dust +Past ruin-heaps of old Firozabad +And Indropat unpitied of the drouth; +By a lone tree, above a Pool whose sad +Prayer-water all the turban-people trust, +Is a heat-hidden tomb, and on it just +A few faint blades of bent and grieving grass. +"Jehanara's it is," with ready mouth +A Moslem tells the stranger, "once she said, +'The covering of the poor is only grass, +Let it be mine alone when I am dead.'" +And who has stood there, where about her Rest +Rise high Imperial tombs, knows hers is best. + + + + +A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT + + + As the cocoanut-palm + That pines, my love, + Away from the sound + Of the planter's voice, + Am I, for I hear + No more resound +Your song by the pearl-strewn sea! + The sun may come + And the moon wax round, + And in its beam + My mates may rejoice, + But I feast not + And my heart is dumb, +As I long, O long, for thee! + + In the jungle-deeps, + Where the cobra creeps, + The leopard lies + In wait for me. + But O, my love, + When the daylight dies +There is more to my dread than he! + Harsh lonely tears + That assail my eyes + Are worse to bear, + For the misery + That makes them well + Is the long, long years +That I moan away from thee! + + O again, again, + In my katamaran + A-keel would I push + To your palmy door! + Again would I hear + The heave and hush +Of your song by the plantain-tree. + But far away + Do I toil and crush + The hopes that arise + At my sick heart's core. + For never near + Does it come, the day +That draws me again to thee! + + + + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF + + +From a far minaret of faithful cloud +A wraith-muezzin of the sunset cried +Over the sea that swung with sultan pride, +"Allah is Beauty, there is none beside! +Allah is Beauty, not to be denied +By Death or any Infidel dark-browed!" + +And every wave that worshipped, every one +Under the mosque of heaven arching high, +Lifted a white crest with assenting sigh +And answered, "Let all gods but Allah die, +Yea, let all gods! until the world shall cry, +Beauty alone is left under the sun!" + + + + +THE RAMESSID + + +Upon an image of immortal stone, +Seated and vast, the moon of Luxor falls, +Lending to it a stillness that appals, +A mystery Osirian and strange. +The hands outplaced upon the knees in lone +And placid majesty reveal the power +Of Egypt in her most triumphal hour, +The calm of tyranny that cannot change. +It is of that Great king, who heard the cries +Of millions toil to lift him to the skies, +Who saw them perish at their task like flies, +Yet let no eye of pity o'er them range. +What rue, then, if his desecrated face +Rots now at Cairo in a mummy case? + + + + +IMMORTAL FOES + + +At Bedrashein between the pyramids +I saw the wingèd sun fold up his pinions +And sink into the nether world's dominions +Where Set sent ill on the Egyptian dead. +I saw the ancient Desert, that outbids +The Nile for the date-lands between them spread, +Fling over Memphis that is vanishèd, +Another shroud of sand, then bid his minions, +The winds, lie down upon their boundless bed. + +I saw where temples vowed to Serapis +And granite splendours men name Pharaonic +Are kept by Time in silence and sardonic +Concealment--mummied in deep mystic tombs. +And when the stars came out in quiet bliss, +I heard Eternity with all its dooms, +Past and to come, sound softly the mnemonic +Of Death who waits all worlds that Life enwombs. + + + + +THE CONSCRIPT + + +The camel at the old sakiyeh + Toils around and round. +Aweary is he of the Nile + And of the wailing sound +Of the slow wheel he turns all day +To lift the water on its way +Over the fields of Ahmed Bey, + That with green grain abound. + +Aweary is he, too, of fellàheen + Who compel him on, +With thick-voiced chanting till the day + Over the West has gone. +For the bold Desert was he made, +The Bedouin, his lord, to aid, +Not for this peasant wheel of trade + That ever must be drawn. + +But on he toils while dahabiyeh + And dark felucca glide +Below him on the glassy flow + Of the gray river's tide. +Then when the night has come lies down, +In sleep the servile day to drown-- +Like all whom Life turns with a frown + From their true fate aside. + + + + +NAVIS IGNOTA + + +Lord, what ship goes forth to-day? + I see her setting West. +Shall she have thy winds aright, +Stars to guide her with their light, +Shall she sweep the seas to sight + Of land and harbour-rest? + +Awful is thy ocean-wrath, + And none can chart thy shoals +When storm unassuaging hath +Blotted sun and planet-path. +Shall she, Lord, escape the scath + And live, with all her souls? + +For it is a beauteous thing + That ships should sail the sea. +Splendid is their plunge and swing +Into waves that foam and fling +Maelstroms at their bows to bring + Them down to destiny. + +And she, too, courageous rides + Away into the gloom. +Now her lights are lost in tides +Of the windy spray that glides +Thro the darkness, Lord, abides + Thy Dove with her--or Doom? + +I shall know perhaps some day, + Or, knowing not, recall +How my heart was fain to pray +For a ship that bravely lay +To her task: O Lord, so may + Each vessel of us all! + + + + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE + + +Within the Holy Sepulchre, breast-high, +There is a cross uncounted lips have kissed, +Millions the world to dust has long dismissed, +Millions that now hope of it but to die. +Pilgrims, I saw, from out far fervid lands +Of superstition, North and West and South, +Bend to it each a trembling, reverent mouth, +Then kneel where Christ was said to loose Death's bands. +And then I wondered if He who believed +In the One God were wounded sore by this, +Whether He shrinks at each ecstatic kiss, +Or knowing how humanity is grieved, +Knows too that it is better to give Hope +Than Truth, if only one is in man's scope. + + + + +THE NUN + + +A lone palm leans in the moonlight + Over a convent wall. +The sea below is waking and breaking + With quiet heave and fall. +A young nun sits at the window; + For Heaven she is too fair; +Yet even the Dove of God might nest + In her bosom beating there. + +A lone ship sails from the harbour: + Whom does it bear away? +Her lover who sin-hearted has parted + And left her but to pray? +She has no lover, nor ever + Has heard afar love's sigh. +Only the convent's vesper vow + Has ever dimmed her eye. + +For naught knows she of her beauty, + More than the palm of its peace; +And who beyond Christ's portal to mortal + Desires would bend her knees? +The ways of the World have flowers, + And any who will pluck those; +But let there ever be a place + Where none may pluck God's rose. + + + + +ALPINE CHANT + + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +They are rising white around me, +Snow peaks like patriarchs + That Winter has enthroned. +I'm tramping up the valleys +Where the cataracts sound me +Thunders they have shrilly + From eternity intoned. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +With the clouds for my companions, +Soft clouds that float and cling + From crag to cloven crag. +I'm passing by the chalets +That o'erhang the high cañons, +Passing where the shepherds + And the flocks they pipe to lag. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +Where the pines in proud procession +Climb like a hardy host + To halo-heights of sun. +I'm listening for the sallies +Of the avalanche's Hessian +Hurl of ice and granite + Into gulfs Avernian. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +And the wind is yodling to me +Yearnings of the glaciers + To flow to summer lands. +I'm treading up the valleys +With no wanting to undo me-- +For to-day I'm goalless + And the great God understands! + + + + +THE MAN OF MIGHT + + +No moment drooped between his thought and action, + No morrow died between his dream and deed. +Within his soul there was no fatal faction + That could betray him in his hour of need. + + + + +IN TIME OF AWE + + +The fierce sea-sunset over the world + Springs like a wounded spirit, +The waves all day have hissed and hurled +Their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled, +And ships in the gray gale's lair have furled + Their sails--well may they fear it! + +The night will be but a monstrous seethe + Of terrors elemental. +The clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath +Of gloom the winds that in them breathe, +And all that lives in the sea beneath + By fear shall be made gentle; + +And sink down, down to the nether deeps, + Below the foam and fretting. +Down where the sullen water sleeps +Alway and the slow sand coldly creeps +Over the lone wreck, which Death keeps + To guard him 'gainst forgetting. + +And there in the ominous vast calm + They'll harbour, like enchanted +Chill shapes he has strangely conjured from +The silence of his masterdom; +There float till again they feel the qualm + Of hunger thro them panted. + +And then once more far up will they spring, + To drift and sport and plunder, +Shark, eel and whale and devil-thing, +With tooth to rend and tail to sting. +To the sea, O God, does horror cling + And haunting past all wonder. + + + + +SUNRISE IN UTAH + + +The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea +Rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn, +And terrible in an eternity +Of death took silently the sunrise on. +Purple funereal from rifted skies +Swept down across their proud sterility, +Only to die as here all glory dies, +On barrenness I did not dream could be. +O God, for a bird-song! or opening lips +Of but one flower upon the fatal air, +For but the voice of water as it drips, +Or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware! +O God, for these, for life! or from the face +Of the world wipe so irreparable a place! + + + + +CONSOLATION + + +I + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill, +Lie softly at my feet. +The sun has worked his will +And the day is done. +Come to me softly and distil +Your dews and dreams, that heat +And hours of heartless glare have overrun. + + +II + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill +And bring with you the night, +Fire-flies and the whippoorwill +And ah, the moon-- +Whose soft interpretings can still +The tangled tongues of right +And wrong, and hope and fear, that haunt the noon. + + +III + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill-- +And let there follow Sleep, +Which is God's tidal Will +That overflows +The world--obliterating ill, +And in its soothing sweep +Murmuring more of mercy than man knows. + + + + +WAVES + + +The evening sails come home + With twilight in their wings. +The harbour-light across the gloam + Springs; + The wind sings. + +The waves begin to tell + The sea's night-sorrow o'er, +Weaving within their ancient spell + More + Than earth's lore. + +The rising moon wafts strange + Low lures across the tide, +On which my dim thoughts seem to range, + Stride + Upon stride, +Until, with flooding thrill, + They seem at last to blend +With waves that from the Eternal Will + Wend, + Without end. + + + + +VIS ULTIMA + + +There is no day but leads me to + A peak impossible to scale, + A task at which my hands must fail, + A sea I cannot swim or sail. +There is no night I suffer thro + But Destiny rules stern and pale: +And yet what I am meant to do + I will do, ere Death drop his veil. + +And it shall be no little thing, + Tho to oblivion it fall, + For I shall strive to it thro all + That can imperil or appal. +So at each morning's trumpet-ring + I mount again, less slave and thrall, +And at the barriers gladly fling + A fortitude that scorns to crawl. + + + + +MEREDITH + + +What am I reading? He is dead? +He the great interpreter +And seer--England's noblest head? +What am I reading? It is hushed? +The deepest voice that life had found +To read a century profound +With all time's seethe and stir? + +Why, it is but a scanty score +Of days, since, at his side, +Clasping his hand with more than pride, +I felt that the immortal tide +Of his great mind would long break o'er +The cold command of Death. +Still in my ear is echoing +The surf of his strong words, and still +Against the wild trees on the Hill +His cottage sheltered under, +I see the toss of his gray locks, +Like Lear's--for he had felt the sting +Of all too greatly giving +The kingdom of his mind to those +Who for it held him mad. + +O England, guard thy living +Like him from a like fate! +For not the mighty thunder +Of thy proud name from all the rocks +Of all the world can compensate +A nation whom no Song makes glad, +And whom no Seer makes great. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 30225-8.txt or 30225-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/2/30225/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Many Gods + +Author: Cale Young Rice + +Release Date: October 10, 2009 [EBook #30225] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>MANY GODS</h1> + + +<h3>OTHER BOOKS BY +CALE YOUNG RICE</h3> + +<p class="center"> +Nirvana Days<br /> +Yolanda of Cyprus<br /> +Plays and Lyrics<br /> +A Night in Avignon<br /> +Charles di Tocca<br /> +David<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MANY GODS</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CALE YOUNG RICE</h2> + +<p class="center"> +NEW YORK<br /> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +MCMX<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION<br /> +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN<br /> +<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910<br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<p class="center"> +TO<br /> +<br /> +FINIS KING FARR<br /> +<br /> +AN OLD<br /> +<br /> +AND DEAR COMRADE<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +"<span class="smcap">All's Well</span>" <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_3'>3</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Proselyte Recants</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_6'>6</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Love in Japan</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_10'>10</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Maple Leaves on Miyajima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_13'>13</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Typhoon</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_15'>15</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Penang</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">When the Wind is Low</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Pagoda Slave</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ships of the Sea</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_25'>25</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kinchinjunga</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Barren Woman</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By the Taj Mahal</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_32'>32</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Love's Cynic</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Tropical Garden</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_42'>42</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Wind's Word</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Shrine of Shrines</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">From a Felucca</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_48'>48</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Egyptian Wakes</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_49'>49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Imam's Parable</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Songs of a Sea-farer</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_52'>52</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Song of the Sects</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span><span class="smcap">The City</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_57'>57</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Via Amorosa</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_58'>58</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Dusk at Hiroshima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_60'>60</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Wanderer</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In a Shinto Temple Garden</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_64'>64</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Far Fujiyama</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On Miyajima Mountain</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Old Age</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_68'>68</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Yang-tse-kiang</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Sea-armies</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_71'>71</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Christian in Exile</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_73'>73</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Parsee Woman</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_75'>75</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Shah Jehan To Mumtaz Mahal</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Princess Jehanara</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Cinghalese Love Lament</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_80'>80</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Arabian Gulf</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ramessid</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Immortal Foes</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_85'>85</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Conscript</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Navis Ignota</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_89'>89</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Cross of the Sepulchre</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_91'>91</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Nun</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_92'>92</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alpine Chant</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Man of Might</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_96'>96</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">In Time of Awe</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_97'>97</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sunrise in Utah</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_99'>99</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Consolation</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_100'>100</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Waves</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_102'>102</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vis Ultima</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_104'>104</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Meredith</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MANY GODS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>"ALL'S WELL"</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The illimitable leaping of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mouthing of his madness to the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seething of his endless sorcery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prophecy no power can attune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept over me as, on the sounding prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a great ship that steered into the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stood and felt the awe upon my brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death and destiny and all that mars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sailor in his eyrie on the mast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Like a lost voice from some aërial realm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ships sail on forever to no shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Time gives Immortality the helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fades like a far phantom from life's door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And is all well, O Thou Unweariable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose in me, "All? or did thy hand grow dull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Building this world that bears a piteous race?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O was it launched too soon or launched too late?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or can it be a derelict that drifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea grew softer as I questioned—calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mystery that like an answer moved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from infinity there fell a balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old peace that God <i>is</i>, tho all unproved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no world that wanders, no not one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the millions, that He does not keep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PROSELYTE RECANTS</h2> + +<h3>(<i>In Japan</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the fair golden idols<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sit in darkness and in silence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the tall cryptomerias<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sway in worship round about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rain that is falling whispers low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can hear strange voices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the dead and forgotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dimly rising incense I can see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lives I have lived,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my lives unbegotten,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i> pity me!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was born this karma<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a mother in Chuzenji,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Nantai-zan looks down into the lake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the white-thronged pilgrims<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climb to altars in the clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And behold the holy eastern dawn awake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was there I wandered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till a priest of the Christians<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In grief I had grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So upon its grief I pondered.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, keep my days!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was wrong, he told me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pray Jiso for my children,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Binzuru for healing of my ills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our gods so many<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were conceived, he said, in sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In despair I listened<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my heart beat hopeless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a temple of my land had helped me live.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But alas that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I let my soul be christened!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, O forgive!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the Christ they gave me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the only Law and Lotus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the only way to Light that will not wane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May perchance have power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the people of the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to me he seemed the servitor of pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in pain he perished<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one born to passion:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some other life no doubt his sin was great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho they told me no,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those who followed him and cherished.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, such is fate.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So again to idols<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Buddha who is boundless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the temple drum is beating thro the rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have turned from treason<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into Meditation's truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the strife the Western god regards as gain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if now I'm dying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the voices tell me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till my long grief ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Nirvana, and my sighing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Namu Amida Butsu</i>, be it so!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h2>LOVE IN JAPAN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dragon-fly lighting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the temple-bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul do you hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the Day of the Dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul of my lover?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah me, the plighting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between two hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That were never wed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dragon-fly, quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest is coming!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, the boom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the bitter bell!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Now you are gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my tears fall thickly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How of Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do the gods make Hell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sêmi is silent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Autumn rains!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind-bells tinkle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(How chill it is!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quick lights come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the shoji-panes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The maple darkens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Pale grow I!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The near night shivers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The temple fades.)<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haunting love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will not cease to cry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wild mists gather<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Ah, my tears!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pane-lights vanish<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For some there is rest.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The remembered years!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, O Baku,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eater of dreams!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h2>MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The summer has come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The summer has gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the maple leaves lift fairy hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ripple upon the winds of dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the dim pagoda stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They ripple and beckon yearningly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their sister fairies over the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But help comes not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So they fall and flee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Autumn over the sands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And down the mountain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some are blown where the sampans glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some are strewn by the temple's side,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And some by the torii.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Autumn ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursues them till,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ever before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has her will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves them desolate, dead and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ravished afar and wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves them desolate; crying shrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No beauty shall abide!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h2>TYPHOON</h2> + +<h3>(<i>At Hong-kong</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was weary and slept on the Peak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The air clung close like a shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung haunting and hot and loud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I awoke and the sky was dun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With awe and a dread that soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it meant typhoon! typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the harbour below, far down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The junks like fowl in a flock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttering in from the shock.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The city, a breathless bend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of roofs, by the water strewn,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within it but said typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then it came, like a million winds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone mad immeasurably,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A torrid and tortuous tempest stung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By rape of the fair South Sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it swept like a scud escaped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From craters of sun or moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And struck as no power of Heaven could,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of Hell—typhoon! typhoon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the junks were smitten and torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The drowning struggled and cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In succourless hundreds died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I shut the sight from my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prayed for my soul to swoon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever I see God's face, let it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be guiltless of that typhoon!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> +<h2>PENANG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ship along the Straits,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a bungalow I know beside Penang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where cocoanut palms along the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are waving, and the gates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and hear the surf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come beating in at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the washing of eternity over the dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to see dawn fare up and day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go down in golden light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And up along the Straits<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To the bungalow that waits me by the tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At evening—and the fates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have set no soothless canker at life's core.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and mend my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the tropic moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to believe that Earth again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Heaven is in tune.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Singapore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ship along the Straits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the bungalow I left upon the strand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the foam of the world grows faint before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It enters, and abates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back and end my days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some evening when the Cross<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +<span class="i0">On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to remember when I die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That life elsewhere was loss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHEN THE WIND IS LOW</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the wind is low, and the sea is soft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the far heat-lightning plays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a darker bank of haze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gaze to my heart's content;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that the heavens are there above—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you are my firmament.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the watch climbs up the shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro the foam that seethes aloud;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +<span class="i0">I know that the years of our life are few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fain as a bird to flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That time is as brief as a drop of dew—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you are Eternity.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PAGODA SLAVE</h2> + +<h4>(<i>At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon</i>)</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All night long the pagoda slave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears the wind-bells high in the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In praise of Lord Gautama.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night long where the lone spire sends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its golden height to the starry light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears their tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watches the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fears he shall never reach Nirvana.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round and round by a hundred shrines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glittering at the great Shwe's base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls the sound of his feet mid lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droned from the sacred Wisdom.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Round and round where the idols gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So pitiless on his pained distress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He passes on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale-eyed and wan—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pariah like the dogs behind him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, what sin in a life begot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thousands of lives ago did he sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he is now by all forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even by Lord Gautama?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His very name as a thing of shame—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound to taint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds that faint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the high bells that hear it uttered!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Midnight comes and the hours of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tapers die and the flowers all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the most fêted altars: lorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And desolate is their odour.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Midnight goes, but he watches still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By each cold spire the moon sets fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By every palm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose silvery calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pillar and jewelled porch pray under.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it dawn that is breaking?... No,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a star that falls in the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only a wind-bell's louder flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of praise to Lord Gautama.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faithless dawn! with illusive feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It comes too late to ease his fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sinks asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A helpless heap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SHIPS OF THE SEA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into port when the sun was setting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode the ship that bore my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the breakers wildly fretting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the skies that shone above.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down to the beach I ran to meet him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would come as he had said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he came—in a sailor's coffin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead!...<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O the ships of the sea! the women<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They from all hope but Heaven part!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide has nothing now to tell me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The breakers only break my heart!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2>KINCHINJUNGA</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Which is the next highest of mountains</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O white Priest of Eternity, around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First-born of Asia whose maternal throes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem changed now to a million human woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One sigh of all the mystery in thee found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For in this world too much is overclear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Immortal Ministrant to many lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rivers that each libation poured expands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much is known, O Ganges-giving sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy people fathom life and find it dire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In strange austerity, whose trance appals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Continue still thy silence high and sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That something beyond fleeting may endure—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Something that shall forevermore allure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imagination on to mystic flights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lifted granite round with reachless snows.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the nations envy thy repose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be that alone on earth which has not failed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But since primeval Power upreared thy heights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has stood above all deaths and all delights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thy white sanctity forever sealed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In icy silence leaves desire congealed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In ghostly ministrations to the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be holy still, till East to West has run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And till no sacrificial suffering<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On any shrine is left to tell life's sting.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BARREN WOMAN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Benares</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the burning-ghat, O Kali,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother divine and dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, I am waiting with open lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the newly dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am childless and barren; pity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let me catch the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him who here on the kindled bier<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pays to Existence toll.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See, by his guileless body<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cook the bread and eat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me the soul he does not need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, for conception sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear, or my lord and husband<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall send me from his door<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And take to his side a fairer bride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breast shall be less poor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft I have sought thy temples,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Ganges now I seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ashes of all the dead are strewn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is my prayer not meek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghats and the shrines and the people<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bathe in the holy Stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have heard my cry, O goddess high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I not have my dream?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The women of Oudh and Jaipur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on my face with scorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children about their garments cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me shall none be born?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The death-fires quiver faster,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O hasten, goddess, a sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from this doom into my womb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy pledge has passed, divine.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Woe! there is naught but ashes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, and the weepers go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With but the River's flow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kali, I ask not jewels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor justice, beauty nor shrift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for the lowest woman's right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A child—tho I die of the gift!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<h2>BY THE TAJ MAHAL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching them wind their silent way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over your wistful Tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching the crescent prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the moon among them flitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair as the shallop that bore your soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Paradise's Room.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With palm and peepul about me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dome and kiosk and minaret<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mounting against the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seem to see your face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the fairness without me;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In all the sadness that fills my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear your lover's cry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look for your Jasmine Tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the River whose barren bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies gray beneath the moon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro its magic doors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You seem like a spirit flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering back from Allah's bourne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek for some lost boon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see you softly moving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among your jewel-lit maidens there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweet and ghostly queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the scent of attar flung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your marble font seems proving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That passion never can die from love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If truly love has been.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He</i> comes, "the Shadow of Allah,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jehan, the lord of Magnificence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liege who holds your heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silver doors swing back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And alone with him you hallow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The amorous night—whose moon has made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such visions in me start.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the Indian stars—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the end of all is moaning!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear his dying breath that from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Tomb shall never die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every jasper flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He set in its dream seems loaning<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unto Fate a sigh.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> +<h2>LOVE'S CYNIC</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O you poets, ever pretending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love is immortal, pipe the truth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Empty your books of lies, the ending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of no passion can be—Youth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Heaven," you breathe, "will join the broken?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, was the Infinite e'er wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That He must evermore be thinking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your wedding bed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of your rhymes and rip your dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you believe words can enamour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death and dry up Lethe's stream?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Death? it is but a Sponge that passes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back into Lethe's flood—whose lasting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is eternities.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blasphemy!"—Well, look around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not only in blaspheming<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth is ever to be found?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether it be, one thing I ask you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lovers and poets, tell, I pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was there ever a love-oath ended<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the Judgment Day?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O," you answer, "ill is in all things."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in an ancient lie what's good?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it not better just to call things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What they are—not what we would?<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +<span class="i0">When you are clinging to your mistress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love has the face of Eternity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cling to her then, but know that Wanting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fools the best that be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the music," you say, "of God!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press her lips but a little firmer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You will feel that they are—sod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But there is living soul beyond them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it is love's till all things end?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Children alone build Paradises<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With but pence to spend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pitying runs your poet-smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He has sat at the Devil's clinic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With some dead love up the while."<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Dead or alive are one with passions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the potent knife of Truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will be seen composed of craving—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a little ruth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then the world on a lie is living?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many a lie has filled its maw!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Better illusion tho than giving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith to a fatal loveless Law?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a certain Socratean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying that swine of their ditch are sure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet do they prove by their contentment<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it will endure?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clasp her close! But the truth is in you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hid it with honey-words that win you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Kings they will call you and uplifters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of your kind? Lord save the mark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we are still for fire dependent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On so false a spark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so fond! for you hold immortal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What has been born a day or two!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But it was destined?" Ay, your portal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only has God to heed—and you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He with his thrice three million thirsting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worlds in the throes of death and life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely has time to spare for choosing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your behooven wife!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By my faith, there is not a creature<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mad as a poet, pants the breeze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give him a mistress and he'll preach her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As creation's Masterpiece.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Let him but lean for half an hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over her lips and he will swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he would dive thro death unfathomed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To regain her there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And believe that his oath is able!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That there is not in all the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Water enough to quench the fable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his soul's intensity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet there was never a rose that blossomed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And endured beyond its day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was never a fire enkindled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the great Cold had its way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pessimist," is your mortal answer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wait till the love-wind pierces you!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait? I have been the veriest dancer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To it, and, dupe still, would do<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Truth to the death—shall I confess it?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For but a moment on one breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore I add—and Adam bless it!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves once is like the rest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN A TROPICAL GARDEN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Peradeniya, Ceylon</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate strange and strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment brings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra slips in peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as a presage of his power.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool astounded, sees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree to tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to the tangle of their sprays.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will next be laid upon some lesser mate.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent lost in trance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it, in stealth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour it upon the air like necromance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More of his mazing wizardry in birth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +<span class="i0">With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chant of it in chill strain from South to North.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made reality<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As swift as clouds are made when the young Monsoon is in the South.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WIND'S WORD</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A star that I love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea, and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spake together across the night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Have peace," said the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Have power," said the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yea!" I answered, "and Fame's delight!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wind on his way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Araby<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused and listened and sighed and said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I passed on the sands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pharaoh's tomb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All these did he have—and he is dead."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SHRINE OF SHRINES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A temple of imperishable stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half in debris it stands, a granite pile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An awe, an inspiration, a dejection<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all who would the cryptic past divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The god of it was Ammon, and a throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forever at its fervid pylons waited<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While priests poured ever a prophetic song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not—and is forgot—and never was!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> +<h2>FROM A FELUCCA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A white tomb in the desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Arab at his prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the Nile's dark water,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the lone camel fares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ibis on the sunset,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slow shadouf at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the caravansary<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low music for the guest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Above the tawny city<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gleam of minarets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resounding the muezzin's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear call as the sun sets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mystery, a silence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A breathing of strange balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peace from Allah on the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the sky his calm.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE EGYPTIAN WAKES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I woke at night in my eternal tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The desert sands had hid a thousand years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought the barterers of grain and wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Culled for the praise and service of divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as I passed along, woe! what was this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That swept across my startled thought's abyss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I moaned. My body crumbled into dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then my soul fled Here—where all souls must.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE IMAM'S PARABLE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold, the wind of the Desert rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Khamsin, in a shroud of sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swept the Libyan waste, across<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To far Somali-land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice was thick with the drouth of death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smote the earth as a burning breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or as a curse which Allah saith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto a demon-band.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The caravan from the oasis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of palm-engirt Kûrkûr<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horror to endure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who longs for the lute of Israfel,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Imperishably pure!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three days he longed, and the wind three days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About him whirled the shroud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a gaunt vulture-crowd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few bleak bones on the Desert still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again into life—if Allah will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Let not your heart be proud.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2>SONGS OF A SEA-FARER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many are on the sea to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all sails set.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide rolls in a restive gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind blows wet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gull is weary of his wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I am weary of all things.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heavy upon me longing lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sad eyes gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the leagues that sink and rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sink always.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My life has sunk and risen so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd have it cease awhile to flow.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the winds of the sea weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the waves of the sea rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the wants of my heart settle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softly now in my breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the stars that in heaven anchor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden buoys of Elysian light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send me across the gulf promise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I am faring right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So while clouds that are left lonely<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the gates of the far West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stealing from her nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am held by a low vesper<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunting afar the vague twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with my soul at peace whisper<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hallowedly good-night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SONG OF THE SECTS</h2> + +<h3>(<i>In a Jerusalem tavern</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Armenian sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a braggart face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the blasphemer!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Latin sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And damns your soul to Hell—no purgatory, if you please!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Copt sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ the first.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix heathen myrrh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Greek sings</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his skull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie aver—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Four again</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a Juniper,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CITY</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soft and fair by the Desert's edge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the dim blue edge of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where white gulls wing all day and fledge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a city I have beheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sometime or where, by day or dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not which, for it seems enspelled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I am by its memory.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above it into the white of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sails enchanted a thousand years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flit at its feet while fancy steers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No face of all its faces to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is known—no passion of it or pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is but a city by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enshrined forever beyond my eyes!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIA AMOROSA</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two walk, my love, on the path<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon makes over the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the end of the world where sorrow hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An end that is ecstasy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not think of the other road<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wearying dust and stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our feet would fare did each but care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To follow the way alone?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two slip at night to the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find one star that we keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a trysting-place to which our eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May lead our souls ere sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not pause for a little space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think how many must sigh<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Because they gaze over starry ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no heart-comrade by?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When we two then lie down to our dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That deepen still the delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our wandering where stars and streams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stray in immortal light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should we not grieve with the myriads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From East of earth to West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lay them down at night but to drown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The longing for some loved breast?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, yes, for life has a thousand gifts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But love it is gives life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul that is sorrow-rife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they to whom it is given to tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon-path and not sink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can ever say the unhappiest way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth has is fair to the brink.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> +<h2>DUSK AT HIROSHIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Softly the bamboo bends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the sun sinks down unglowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softer the willow ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sigh to the dusk around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly the brief bat wends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His flittering way, thro flowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fields of the autumn air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That are husht of the city's sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Temple and thatch and stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are forgetting the light that lingers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mountain and mist in dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already are lost, afar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintingly comes the beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the moon—then viewless fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tinkle a samisen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And astir on the East is a star.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE WANDERER</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When moonlight on the face<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the great Buddha falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he sits in Nirvana<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the shores of Kamakura,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the pines about him place<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soft shadows at his feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like offerings of penitence and tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear in the grace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the wind's low susurra<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice that calls me still<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To my home within the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I've lingered overlong<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the East's strange arcana<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no more is there desire within my breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I left it when a boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That far home and, alas,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas so fair that my dreaming<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Earth had fairer was a madness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I left it for the joy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of wandering the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heathen-hearted lands have I beheld!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when at last cloy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of delight brought sadness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like lotus to my veins,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And forgetfulness seemed fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had fared unto this shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the moon as now was beaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here have I awaited—and await.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But not for any gift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of its god, or any grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in living or in dying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Men in text or sutra sigh for.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not for any shrift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nirvana has, or skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Paradise imperishably smiles.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +<span class="i0">But only for the sift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the wind, that seems to die for<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul's enduring peace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the dwelling of the Tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only for the drift<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the moon that comes denying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternity to everything but Doom.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the torii, robed in green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old priest creeps to the shrine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the bridge the still stork stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crow caws not in the pine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far in the distance bugles blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War's bloody memory wakes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest prays on—for his sons that are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the heart within him breaks.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2>FAR FUJIYAMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Against the phantom gold of failing skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see the ghost of Fujiyama rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And think of the innumerable eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have beheld its vision sunset-crowned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peasant in his field of rice or tea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prince in gardens dreaming by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest to whom the sêmi in the tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as I think upon them, lo, the trance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of backward time and distant circumstance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Karma's all-remembering necromance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies suddenly before my boundless sight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is as if, a moment, Buddhahood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were given to me; as if understood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last were vague Nirvana's vaguer good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if time were dissolved in living light.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>To A. H. R.</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out on the sea the sampans ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the mountains brim with mist and sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O we are in Japan again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the spell is about us spun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell of the old enchanting East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Buddha and many a blissful priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell that has never, never ceased<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To haunt us!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glad we behold the temple-tops<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lanterns in religious row<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Standing, like acolytes of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pine and camphor grow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er them the old pagoda prays<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Blessing upon their dreaming days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And upon the eightfold sacred ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Sorrow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, and the torii too is there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daily, with tidal mystery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And majesty divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He enters now, as the nuptial sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love first entered our hearts, to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord of their tides eternally,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Master!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2>OLD AGE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have heard the wild geese,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have seen the leaves fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was frost last night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the garden wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is gone to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hear the wind call.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind?... that is all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the swallow will light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When evening is near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the crane will not scream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a soul in fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will think no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the dying year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wind, its seer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tatterdemalion sampan glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sails of brown and black and yellow swinging.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth to the sea in sloth they ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The coolies singing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Off in the field the peasant toils<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And along the canal the low tows slip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Off in the field the peasant toils—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lip and brow the dull years strip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare of the dreams of life, whose grip<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has grimly drawn them.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High on the hill the yamên rests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the temple beside it sleeps in sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far in the distance faints the city dreary.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High on the hill the yamên rests,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dun dead shadows o'er it run:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the land where Time begun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And now grows weary.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SEA-ARMIES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wild sea-armies led by the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are following in our wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White-crested shouting millions moving on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have broken their camp of Calm and o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world rebellion make,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With banner of cloud and mist above them drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They have heard the call of infinite Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ordering of his word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arise, go forth and conquer where ye can;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that is the only law ye know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mandate men have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them beware when they your path would span.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let them beware, for I am lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all that on earth has name,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And unto you is given most my might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ride on, ye have many a ship to rend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a mast to maim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a land to lash and soul to fright."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So on they ride, a ravaging horde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From shore to shuddering shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor know that when they have camped again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sleep, Life will restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto her world the hope they have withdrawn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Mandalay</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The palms along the old fort wall are paling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountains in the evening light are red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon has dropped into the moat from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spell barbaric over all is spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what is that to him, a stranger lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a land strange to all his faith and dim?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cares not for old splendours, he would only<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear on the air a simple Sabbath hymn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the tall tamarind unto their nest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bullock-carts along the road are creaking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +<span class="i0">On a calm jetty looking off to Mecca<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sons of Mahomet watch the low day's rim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He too is waiting for it—with an echo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his lips of a believer's hymn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The red gate-towers rise against the twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palace of the heathen king is hid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white bridge bent across the moat beside it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems now of all unholinesses rid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wishes it were so with all this city<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose Buddha-built pagodas skyward swim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he can only gaze on them and pity—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sing within his heart a Christian hymn.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PARSEE WOMAN</h2> + +<h3>(<i>At Bombay</i>)</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cast me out from among you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not see my child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid aloft where the vultures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May clamour for him, wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth you say is holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to be soiled by death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a Parsee still should hold divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Zoroaster saith.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, and so I will hold it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But see his pale sweet face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As pure as the palest flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left dead in Spring's embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun we worship daily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrined it for seven years,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall it go to cruel beaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There where the sea-wind veers?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, no, no! tho you send me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A beggar from your door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, my lord, whom I honour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you, his sisters four,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom there have come no children<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make your bosoms feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How even a thought so full of throe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can make my sick brain reel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loathe, as a thing defiled?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lord, I am but a woman<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who longs to see her child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid in a tomb, entreasured<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shrouding sod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O would I had never given birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that earth had no God!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I see as in a pale mirage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palm that o'er you sways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters of the Jumna wan are beating.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dome of grief betrays—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world is wider than I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that your face is gone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While you were here no destiny seemed boundless.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So I am lost and find no clue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To any dusk or dawn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life has become a quest decayed and groundless.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come back! come back or let me find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jungle leads at last<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Unto your lips and bosom recreated!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O somewhere I again must wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My arms about you, cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into one word my love all unabated!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> +<h2>PRINCESS JEHANARA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the road leads from Delhi to the South,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dingy camel-trains creep in the dust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past ruin-heaps of old Firozabad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Indropat unpitied of the drouth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a lone tree, above a Pool whose sad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayer-water all the turban-people trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is a heat-hidden tomb, and on it just<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A few faint blades of bent and grieving grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Jehanara's it is," with ready mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Moslem tells the stranger, "once she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The covering of the poor is only grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it be mine alone when I am dead.'"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who has stood there, where about her Rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise high Imperial tombs, knows hers is best.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> +<h2>A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the cocoanut-palm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That pines, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away from the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the planter's voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am I, for I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more resound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your song by the pearl-strewn sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun may come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the moon wax round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mates may rejoice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I feast not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart is dumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I long, O long, for thee!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the jungle-deeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the cobra creeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leopard lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wait for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But O, my love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the daylight dies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is more to my dread than he!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harsh lonely tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That assail my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are worse to bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the misery<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That makes them well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the long, long years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I moan away from thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O again, again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my katamaran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-keel would I push<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your palmy door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again would I hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heave and hush</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of your song by the plantain-tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do I toil and crush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hopes that arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At my sick heart's core.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For never near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does it come, the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That draws me again to thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON THE ARABIAN GULF</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From a far minaret of faithful cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wraith-muezzin of the sunset cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the sea that swung with sultan pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Allah is Beauty, there is none beside!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allah is Beauty, not to be denied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Death or any Infidel dark-browed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And every wave that worshipped, every one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the mosque of heaven arching high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted a white crest with assenting sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And answered, "Let all gods but Allah die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, let all gods! until the world shall cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty alone is left under the sun!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RAMESSID</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon an image of immortal stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seated and vast, the moon of Luxor falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lending to it a stillness that appals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mystery Osirian and strange.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hands outplaced upon the knees in lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And placid majesty reveal the power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Egypt in her most triumphal hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The calm of tyranny that cannot change.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is of that Great king, who heard the cries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of millions toil to lift him to the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saw them perish at their task like flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet let no eye of pity o'er them range.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What rue, then, if his desecrated face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rots now at Cairo in a mummy case?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> +<h2>IMMORTAL FOES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Bedrashein between the pyramids<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the wingèd sun fold up his pinions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sink into the nether world's dominions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Set sent ill on the Egyptian dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw the ancient Desert, that outbids<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Nile for the date-lands between them spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fling over Memphis that is vanishèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another shroud of sand, then bid his minions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds, lie down upon their boundless bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw where temples vowed to Serapis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And granite splendours men name Pharaonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are kept by Time in silence and sardonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Concealment—mummied in deep mystic tombs.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And when the stars came out in quiet bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard Eternity with all its dooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past and to come, sound softly the mnemonic<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Death who waits all worlds that Life enwombs.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CONSCRIPT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The camel at the old sakiyeh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toils around and round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aweary is he of the Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of the wailing sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the slow wheel he turns all day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lift the water on its way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the fields of Ahmed Bey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with green grain abound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aweary is he, too, of fellàheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who compel him on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thick-voiced chanting till the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the West has gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the bold Desert was he made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bedouin, his lord, to aid,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Not for this peasant wheel of trade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever must be drawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But on he toils while dahabiyeh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark felucca glide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below him on the glassy flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the gray river's tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then when the night has come lies down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sleep the servile day to drown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like all whom Life turns with a frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their true fate aside.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2>NAVIS IGNOTA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord, what ship goes forth to-day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see her setting West.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she have thy winds aright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stars to guide her with their light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she sweep the seas to sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of land and harbour-rest?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Awful is thy ocean-wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none can chart thy shoals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When storm unassuaging hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blotted sun and planet-path.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she, Lord, escape the scath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live, with all her souls?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For it is a beauteous thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ships should sail the sea.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Splendid is their plunge and swing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into waves that foam and fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maelstroms at their bows to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them down to destiny.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And she, too, courageous rides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Away into the gloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now her lights are lost in tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the windy spray that glides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thro the darkness, Lord, abides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Dove with her—or Doom?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I shall know perhaps some day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, knowing not, recall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How my heart was fain to pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a ship that bravely lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her task: O Lord, so may<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each vessel of us all!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the Holy Sepulchre, breast-high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a cross uncounted lips have kissed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Millions the world to dust has long dismissed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Millions that now hope of it but to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pilgrims, I saw, from out far fervid lands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of superstition, North and West and South,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bend to it each a trembling, reverent mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then kneel where Christ was said to loose Death's bands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I wondered if He who believed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the One God were wounded sore by this,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether He shrinks at each ecstatic kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or knowing how humanity is grieved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knows too that it is better to give Hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than Truth, if only one is in man's scope.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE NUN</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A lone palm leans in the moonlight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over a convent wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea below is waking and breaking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With quiet heave and fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A young nun sits at the window;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Heaven she is too fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet even the Dove of God might nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her bosom beating there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A lone ship sails from the harbour:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom does it bear away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lover who sin-hearted has parted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left her but to pray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has no lover, nor ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has heard afar love's sigh.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Only the convent's vesper vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has ever dimmed her eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For naught knows she of her beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than the palm of its peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who beyond Christ's portal to mortal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desires would bend her knees?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ways of the World have flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And any who will pluck those;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let there ever be a place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where none may pluck God's rose.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<h2>ALPINE CHANT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are rising white around me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snow peaks like patriarchs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Winter has enthroned.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping up the valleys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the cataracts sound me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thunders they have shrilly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From eternity intoned.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the clouds for my companions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft clouds that float and cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From crag to cloven crag.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm passing by the chalets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That o'erhang the high cañons,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Passing where the shepherds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the flocks they pipe to lag.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pines in proud procession<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climb like a hardy host<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To halo-heights of sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm listening for the sallies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the avalanche's Hessian<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurl of ice and granite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into gulfs Avernian.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm tramping thro the mountains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wind is yodling to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yearnings of the glaciers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flow to summer lands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm treading up the valleys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no wanting to undo me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to-day I'm goalless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great God understands!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MAN OF MIGHT</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No moment drooped between his thought and action,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No morrow died between his dream and deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within his soul there was no fatal faction<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That could betray him in his hour of need.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> +<h2>IN TIME OF AWE</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fierce sea-sunset over the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springs like a wounded spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves all day have hissed and hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ships in the gray gale's lair have furled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their sails—well may they fear it!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The night will be but a monstrous seethe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of terrors elemental.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gloom the winds that in them breathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that lives in the sea beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fear shall be made gentle;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And sink down, down to the nether deeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the foam and fretting.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Down where the sullen water sleeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alway and the slow sand coldly creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the lone wreck, which Death keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To guard him 'gainst forgetting.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there in the ominous vast calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll harbour, like enchanted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chill shapes he has strangely conjured from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silence of his masterdom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There float till again they feel the qualm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hunger thro them panted.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then once more far up will they spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drift and sport and plunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shark, eel and whale and devil-thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tooth to rend and tail to sting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the sea, O God, does horror cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And haunting past all wonder.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> +<h2>SUNRISE IN UTAH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And terrible in an eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of death took silently the sunrise on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purple funereal from rifted skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept down across their proud sterility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to die as here all glory dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On barrenness I did not dream could be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, for a bird-song! or opening lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of but one flower upon the fatal air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For but the voice of water as it drips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God, for these, for life! or from the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the world wipe so irreparable a place!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONSOLATION</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lie softly at my feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun has worked his will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the day is done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come to me softly and distil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your dews and dreams, that heat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hours of heartless glare have overrun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring with you the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire-flies and the whippoorwill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ah, the moon—<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soft interpretings can still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tangled tongues of right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrong, and hope and fear, that haunt the noon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +<span class="i10">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come to me, shadows, down the hill—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let there follow Sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is God's tidal Will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That overflows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world—obliterating ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its soothing sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring more of mercy than man knows.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> +<h2>WAVES</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The evening sails come home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With twilight in their wings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The harbour-light across the gloam<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Springs;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wind sings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The waves begin to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea's night-sorrow o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaving within their ancient spell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than earth's lore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rising moon wafts strange<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low lures across the tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which my dim thoughts seem to range,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Stride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon stride,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Until, with flooding thrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They seem at last to blend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With waves that from the Eternal Will<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Without end.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIS ULTIMA</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is no day but leads me to<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A peak impossible to scale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A task at which my hands must fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sea I cannot swim or sail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no night I suffer thro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Destiny rules stern and pale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet what I am meant to do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will do, ere Death drop his veil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And it shall be no little thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho to oblivion it fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I shall strive to it thro all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That can imperil or appal.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +<span class="i0">So at each morning's trumpet-ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mount again, less slave and thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the barriers gladly fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fortitude that scorns to crawl.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> +<h2>MEREDITH</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What am I reading? He is dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He the great interpreter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seer—England's noblest head?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What am I reading? It is hushed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deepest voice that life had found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To read a century profound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all time's seethe and stir?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, it is but a scanty score<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of days, since, at his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasping his hand with more than pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felt that the immortal tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his great mind would long break o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cold command of Death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in my ear is echoing<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The surf of his strong words, and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the wild trees on the Hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cottage sheltered under,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see the toss of his gray locks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Lear's—for he had felt the sting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all too greatly giving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kingdom of his mind to those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who for it held him mad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O England, guard thy living<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like him from a like fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For not the mighty thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy proud name from all the rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the world can compensate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nation whom no Song makes glad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whom no Seer makes great.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 30225-h.htm or 30225-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/2/30225/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Many Gods + +Author: Cale Young Rice + +Release Date: October 10, 2009 [EBook #30225] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library.) + + + + + + + +MANY GODS + + +OTHER BOOKS BY +CALE YOUNG RICE + + Nirvana Days + Yolanda of Cyprus + Plays and Lyrics + A Night in Avignon + Charles di Tocca + David + + + + +MANY GODS + +BY + +CALE YOUNG RICE + +NEW YORK +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +MCMX + + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + +COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910 + + +TO + +FINIS KING FARR + +AN OLD + +AND DEAR COMRADE + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PAGE + +"ALL'S WELL" 3 + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS 6 + +LOVE IN JAPAN 10 + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA 13 + +TYPHOON 15 + +PENANG 17 + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW 20 + +THE PAGODA SLAVE 22 + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA 25 + +KINCHINJUNGA 26 + +THE BARREN WOMAN 29 + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL 32 + +LOVE'S CYNIC 35 + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN 42 + +THE WIND'S WORD 46 + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES 47 + +FROM A FELUCCA 48 + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES 49 + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE 50 + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER 52 + +A SONG OF THE SECTS 54 + +THE CITY 57 + +VIA AMOROSA 58 + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA 60 + +THE WANDERER 61 + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN 64 + +FAR FUJIYAMA 65 + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN 66 + +OLD AGE 68 + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG 69 + +THE SEA-ARMIES 71 + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE 73 + +THE PARSEE WOMAN 75 + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL 77 + +PRINCESS JEHANARA 79 + +A CINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT 80 + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF 83 + +THE RAMESSID 84 + +IMMORTAL FOES 85 + +THE CONSCRIPT 87 + +NAVIS IGNOTA 89 + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE 91 + +THE NUN 92 + +ALPINE CHANT 94 + +THE MAN OF MIGHT 96 + +IN TIME OF AWE 97 + +SUNRISE IN UTAH 99 + +CONSOLATION 100 + +WAVES 102 + +VIS ULTIMA 104 + +MEREDITH 106 + + + + +MANY GODS + + + + +"ALL'S WELL" + + +I + +The illimitable leaping of the sea, +The mouthing of his madness to the moon, +The seething of his endless sorcery, +His prophecy no power can attune, +Swept over me as, on the sounding prow +Of a great ship that steered into the stars, +I stood and felt the awe upon my brow +Of death and destiny and all that mars. + + +II + +The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast +Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung; +The sailor in his eyrie on the mast +Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung +Like a lost voice from some aerial realm +Where ships sail on forever to no shore, +Where Time gives Immortality the helm, +And fades like a far phantom from life's door. + + +III + +"And is all well, O Thou Unweariable +Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space," +Rose in me, "All? or did thy hand grow dull +Building this world that bears a piteous race? +O was it launched too soon or launched too late? +Or can it be a derelict that drifts +Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate +On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts?" + + +IV + +The sea grew softer as I questioned--calm +With mystery that like an answer moved, +And from infinity there fell a balm, +The old peace that God _is_, tho all unproved. +The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun +The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep, +There is no world that wanders, no not one +Of all the millions, that He does not keep. + + + + +THE PROSELYTE RECANTS + +(_In Japan_) + + + Where the fair golden idols + Sit in darkness and in silence +While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow; + Where the tall cryptomerias + Sway in worship round about +And the rain that is falling whispers low; + I can hear strange voices + Of the dead and forgotten, +On the dimly rising incense I can see + The lives I have lived, + And my lives unbegotten, +_Namu Amida Butsu_ pity me! + + I was born this karma + Of a mother in Chuzenji, +Where Nantai-zan looks down into the lake; + Where the white-thronged pilgrims + Climb to altars in the clouds +And behold the holy eastern dawn awake. + It was there I wandered + Till a priest of the Christians +With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze. + In grief I had grown, + So upon its grief I pondered. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, keep my days! + + It was wrong, he told me, + To pray Jiso for my children, +And Binzuru for healing of my ills. + And our gods so many + Were conceived, he said, in sin, +From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills. + In despair I listened + For my heart beat hopeless, +Not a temple of my land had helped me live. + But alas that day + When I let my soul be christened! +_Namu Amida Butsu_, O forgive! + + For the Christ they gave me + As the only Law and Lotus, +As the only way to Light that will not wane, + May perchance have power + For the people of the West, +But to me he seemed the servitor of pain. + For in pain he perished + As one born to passion: +In some other life no doubt his sin was great, + Tho they told me no, + Those who followed him and cherished. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, such is fate. + + So again to idols + Of the Buddha who is boundless, +While the temple drum is beating thro the rain, + I have turned from treason + Into Meditation's truth, +From the strife the Western god regards as gain. + And if now I'm dying + As the voices tell me, +To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go; + Till my long grief ends + In Nirvana, and my sighing. +_Namu Amida Butsu_, be it so! + + + + +LOVE IN JAPAN + + +I + +Dragon-fly lighting +On the temple-bell, +Whose soul do you hear +On the Day of the Dead? +The soul of my lover? +Ah me, the plighting +Between two hearts +That were never wed! + +Dragon-fly, quickly, +The priest is coming! +Oh, the boom +Of the bitter bell! +Now you are gone +And my tears fall thickly. +How of Heaven +Do the gods make Hell! + + +II + +The semi is silent + (Autumn rains!) +The wind-bells tinkle + (How chill it is!) +The quick lights come +On the shoji-panes. +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The maple darkens + (Pale grow I!) +The near night shivers + (The temple fades.) + +Haunting love +Will not cease to cry! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + +The wild mists gather + (Ah, my tears!) +The pane-lights vanish + (For some there is rest.) +But for me-- +The remembered years! +Come, O Baku, +Eater of dreams! + + + + +MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA + + +The summer has come, +The summer has gone, +And the maple leaves lift fairy hands +That ripple upon the winds of dawn +Where the dim pagoda stands. +They ripple and beckon yearningly +To their sister fairies over the sea, +But help comes not, +So they fall and flee +From Autumn over the sands. + +And down the mountain +And into the tide, +Some are blown where the sampans glide, +And some are strewn by the temple's side, +And some by the torii. +But Autumn ever +Pursues them till, +As ever before, +She has her will, +And leaves them desolate, dead and still, +Ravished afar and wide; +Leaves them desolate; crying shrill, +"No beauty shall abide!" + + + + +TYPHOON + +(_At Hong-kong_) + + +I was weary and slept on the Peak; + The air clung close like a shroud, +And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear + Hung haunting and hot and loud; +I awoke and the sky was dun + With awe and a dread that soon +Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew + That it meant typhoon! typhoon! + +In the harbour below, far down, + The junks like fowl in a flock +Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled + Fluttering in from the shock. +The city, a breathless bend + Of roofs, by the water strewn, +Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none + Within it but said typhoon! + +Then it came, like a million winds + Gone mad immeasurably, +A torrid and tortuous tempest stung + By rape of the fair South Sea. +And it swept like a scud escaped + From craters of sun or moon, +And struck as no power of Heaven could, + Or of Hell--typhoon! typhoon! + +And the junks were smitten and torn, + The drowning struggled and cried, +Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea, + In succourless hundreds died. +Till I shut the sight from my eyes + And prayed for my soul to swoon: +If ever I see God's face, let it + Be guiltless of that typhoon! + + + + +PENANG + + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits, +To a bungalow I know beside Penang; + Where cocoanut palms along the shore + Are waving, and the gates +Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore. + I want to go back and hear the surf + Come beating in at night, +Like the washing of eternity over the dead. + I want to see dawn fare up and day + Go down in golden light; +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And up along the Straits +To the bungalow that waits me by the tide. + Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore + At evening--and the fates +Have set no soothless canker at life's core. + I want to go back and mend my heart + Beneath the tropic moon, +While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep. + I want to believe that Earth again + With Heaven is in tune. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + +I want to go back to Singapore + And ship along the Straits +To the bungalow I left upon the strand. + Where the foam of the world grows faint before + It enters, and abates +In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour. + I want to go back and end my days + Some evening when the Cross +On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad. + I want to remember when I die + That life elsewhere was loss. +I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back! + + + + +WHEN THE WIND IS LOW + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When the wind is low, and the sea is soft, + And the far heat-lightning plays +On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest + On a darker bank of haze; +When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love + And gaze to my heart's content; +I know that the heavens are there above-- + But you are my firmament. + +When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow + And the watch climbs up the shroud; +When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips + Thro the foam that seethes aloud; +I know that the years of our life are few, + And fain as a bird to flee, +That time is as brief as a drop of dew-- + But you are Eternity. + + + + +THE PAGODA SLAVE + +(_At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon_) + + +All night long the pagoda slave +Hears the wind-bells high in the air +Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave + In praise of Lord Gautama. +All night long where the lone spire sends +Its golden height to the starry light + He hears their tune + And watches the moon +And fears he shall never reach Nirvana. + +Round and round by a hundred shrines +Glittering at the great Shwe's base +Falls the sound of his feet mid lines + Droned from the sacred Wisdom. +Round and round where the idols gaze +So pitiless on his pained distress + He passes on, + Pale-eyed and wan-- +A pariah like the dogs behind him. + +Oh, what sin in a life begot +Thousands of lives ago did he sin +That he is now by all forgot, + Even by Lord Gautama? +Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun +His very name as a thing of shame-- + A sound to taint + The winds that faint +From the high bells that hear it uttered! + +Midnight comes and the hours of morn, +Tapers die and the flowers all +From the most feted altars: lorn + And desolate is their odour. +Midnight goes, but he watches still +By each cold spire the moon sets fire, + By every palm + Whose silvery calm +Pillar and jewelled porch pray under. + +Is it dawn that is breaking?... No, +Only a star that falls in the sea, +Only a wind-bell's louder flow + Of praise to Lord Gautama. +Faithless dawn! with illusive feet +It comes too late to ease his fate. + He sinks asleep + A helpless heap, +Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana. + + + + +THE SHIPS OF THE SEA + + +Into port when the sun was setting + Rode the ship that bore my love, +Over the breakers wildly fretting, + Under the skies that shone above. + +Down to the beach I ran to meet him; + He would come as he had said: + And he came--in a sailor's coffin, + Dead!... + +O the ships of the sea! the women + They from all hope but Heaven part! +The tide has nothing now to tell me, + The breakers only break my heart! + + + + +KINCHINJUNGA + +(_Which is the next highest of mountains_) + + +I + +O white Priest of Eternity, around +Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise +Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice +To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies; +O Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows, +First-born of Asia whose maternal throes +Seem changed now to a million human woes, +Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound +One sigh of all the mystery in thee found. + + +II + +For in this world too much is overclear, +Immortal Ministrant to many lands, +From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands +Rivers that each libation poured expands. +Too much is known, O Ganges-giving sire; +Thy people fathom life and find it dire, +Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire +To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere, +Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear. + + +III + +Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites, +Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls +In strange austerity, whose trance appals, +Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls. +Continue still thy silence high and sure, +That something beyond fleeting may endure-- +Something that shall forevermore allure +Imagination on to mystic flights +Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights. + + +IV + +Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes +Of lifted granite round with reachless snows. +Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows +Of all the nations envy thy repose. +Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled. +Be that alone on earth which has not failed. +Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed, +But since primeval Power upreared thy heights +Has stood above all deaths and all delights. + + +V + +And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King, +High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed, +While thy white sanctity forever sealed +In icy silence leaves desire congealed. +In ghostly ministrations to the sun, +And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun, +Be holy still, till East to West has run, +And till no sacrificial suffering +On any shrine is left to tell life's sting. + + + + +THE BARREN WOMAN + +(_Benares_) + + +At the burning-ghat, O Kali, + Mother divine and dread, +See, I am waiting with open lips + Over the newly dead. +I am childless and barren; pity + And let me catch the soul +Of him who here on the kindled bier + Pays to Existence toll. + +See, by his guileless body + I cook the bread and eat. +Give me the soul he does not need + Now, for conception sweet. +Hear, or my lord and husband + Shall send me from his door +And take to his side a fairer bride + Whose breast shall be less poor. + +Oft I have sought thy temples, + By Ganges now I seek, +Where ashes of all the dead are strewn, + And is my prayer not meek? +The ghats and the shrines and the people + That bathe in the holy Stream +Have heard my cry, O goddess high, + Shall I not have my dream? + +The women of Oudh and Jaipur + Look on my face with scorn. +Children about their garments cling, + To me shall none be born? +The death-fires quiver faster, + O hasten, goddess, a sign, +That from this doom into my womb + Thy pledge has passed, divine. + +Woe! there is naught but ashes, + Now, and the weepers go. +Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone, + With but the River's flow. +Kali, I ask not jewels + Nor justice, beauty nor shrift, +But for the lowest woman's right, + A child--tho I die of the gift! + + + + +BY THE TAJ MAHAL + + +Under the Indian stars, +Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting, +Watching them wind their silent way +Over your wistful Tomb; +Watching the crescent prow +Of the moon among them flitting, +Fair as the shallop that bore your soul +To Paradise's Room. + +Under the Indian stars, +With palm and peepul about me, +With dome and kiosk and minaret +Mounting against the sky, +I seem to see your face +In all the fairness without me; +In all the sadness that fills my heart +To hear your lover's cry. + +Under the Indian stars +I look for your Jasmine Tower, +Along the River whose barren bed +Lies gray beneath the moon. +And thro its magic doors +You seem like a spirit flower, +Wandering back from Allah's bourne +To seek for some lost boon. + +Under the Indian stars +I see you softly moving, +Among your jewel-lit maidens there, +A sweet and ghostly queen, +And the scent of attar flung +In your marble font seems proving +That passion never can die from love, +If truly love has been. + +Under the Indian stars +_He_ comes, "the Shadow of Allah," +Jehan, the lord of Magnificence, +The liege who holds your heart. +The silver doors swing back +And alone with him you hallow +The amorous night--whose moon has made +Such visions in me start. + +Under the Indian stars-- +But the end of all is moaning! +I hear his dying breath that from +Your Tomb shall never die. +For every jasper flower +He set in its dream seems loaning +To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal, +And unto Fate a sigh. + + + + +LOVE'S CYNIC + + +I + +O you poets, ever pretending + Love is immortal, pipe the truth! +Empty your books of lies, the ending + Of no passion can be--Youth. +"Heaven," you breathe, "will join the broken?" + Come, was the Infinite e'er wed, +That He must evermore be thinking + Of your wedding bed? + + +II + +Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour + Out of your rhymes and rip your dream. +Do you believe words can enamour + Death and dry up Lethe's stream? +Death? it is but a Sponge that passes, + One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze +Back into Lethe's flood--whose lasting + Is eternities. + + +III + +"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming + Blasphemy!"--Well, look around. +Is it not only in blaspheming + Truth is ever to be found? +Whether it be, one thing I ask you, + Lovers and poets, tell, I pray, +Was there ever a love-oath ended + Ere the Judgment Day? + + +IV + +"O," you answer, "ill is in all things." + But in an ancient lie what's good? +Is it not better just to call things + What they are--not what we would? +When you are clinging to your mistress, + Love has the face of Eternity. +Cling to her then, but know that Wanting + Fools the best that be. + + +V + +"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur + All the music," you say, "of God!" +Press her lips but a little firmer-- + You will feel that they are--sod. +"But there is living soul beyond them, + And it is love's till all things end?" +Children alone build Paradises + With but pence to spend. + + +VI + +"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic," + Pitying runs your poet-smile, +"He has sat at the Devil's clinic + With some dead love up the while." +Dead or alive are one with passions, + Under the potent knife of Truth +They will be seen composed of craving-- + And a little ruth. + + +VII + +"Then the world on a lie is living?" + Many a lie has filled its maw! +"Better illusion tho than giving + Faith to a fatal loveless Law?" +There is a certain Socratean + Saying that swine of their ditch are sure; +Yet do they prove by their contentment + That it will endure? + + +VIII + +Clasp her close! But the truth is in you, + Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down, +Hid it with honey-words that win you + Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown. +Kings they will call you and uplifters + Of your kind? Lord save the mark, +That we are still for fire dependent + On so false a spark. + + +IX + +And so fond! for you hold immortal + What has been born a day or two! +"But it was destined?" Ay, your portal + Only has God to heed--and you! +He with his thrice three million thirsting + Worlds in the throes of death and life +Surely has time to spare for choosing + Your behooven wife! + + +X + +By my faith, there is not a creature + Mad as a poet, pants the breeze! +Give him a mistress and he'll preach her + As creation's Masterpiece. +Let him but lean for half an hour + Over her lips and he will swear +That he would dive thro death unfathomed + To regain her there. + + +XI + +And believe that his oath is able! + That there is not in all the sea +Water enough to quench the fable + Of his soul's intensity. +Yet there was never a rose that blossomed + And endured beyond its day. +There was never a fire enkindled + But the great Cold had its way. + + +XII + +"Pessimist," is your mortal answer, + "Wait till the love-wind pierces you!" +Wait? I have been the veriest dancer + To it, and, dupe still, would do +Truth to the death--shall I confess it?-- + For but a moment on one breast. +Wherefore I add--and Adam bless it!-- + Who loves once is like the rest. + + + + +IN A TROPICAL GARDEN + +(_Peradeniya, Ceylon_) + + +I + +The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long, + With fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things. +The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate strange and strong, + And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment brings. + + +II + +The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra slips in peace + Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as a presage of his power. +And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool astounded, sees, + Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour. + + +III + +The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree to tree + Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to the tangle of their sprays. +The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee + Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze + +IV + +And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire, + The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await +What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire + Will next be laid upon some lesser mate. + + +V + +The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth + He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent lost in trance; +And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it, in stealth + Pour it upon the air like necromance. + + +VI + +And down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean + Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth +Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is seen + More of his mazing wizardry in birth. + + +VII + +All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands + With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth. +All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands + Chant of it in chill strain from South to North. + + +VIII + +A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made reality + As swift as clouds are made when the young Monsoon is in the South. +A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be + Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth. + + + + +THE WIND'S WORD + + + A star that I love, + The sea, and I, +Spake together across the night. + "Have peace," said the star, + "Have power," said the sea, +"Yea!" I answered, "and Fame's delight!" + + The wind on his way + To Araby +Paused and listened and sighed and said, + "I passed on the sands + A Pharaoh's tomb: +All these did he have--and he is dead." + + + + +THE SHRINE OF SHRINES + + +There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile +A temple of imperishable stone, +Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known +To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine. +Half in debris it stands, a granite pile +Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection, +An awe, an inspiration, a dejection +To all who would the cryptic past divine. +The god of it was Ammon, and a throng +Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated +Forever at its fervid pylons waited +While priests poured ever a prophetic song. +And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws, +Is not--and is forgot--and never was! + + + + +FROM A FELUCCA + + +A white tomb in the desert, +An Arab at his prayers +Beside the Nile's dark water, +Where the lone camel fares. +An ibis on the sunset, +A slow shadouf at rest, +And in the caravansary +Low music for the guest. + +Above the tawny city +A gleam of minarets, +Resounding the muezzin's +Clear call as the sun sets. +A mystery, a silence, +A breathing of strange balm, +A peace from Allah on the wind +And on the sky his calm. + + + + +THE EGYPTIAN WAKES + + +I woke at night in my eternal tomb +The desert sands had hid a thousand years, +And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom +Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods!" +I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears, +And sought the barterers of grain and wine +Culled for the praise and service of divine +Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods. +But as I passed along, woe! what was this, +Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes +Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains +That swept across my startled thought's abyss! +I moaned. My body crumbled into dust. +And then my soul fled Here--where all souls must. + + + + +THE IMAM'S PARABLE + + +Behold, the wind of the Desert rose, + Khamsin, in a shroud of sand, +And swept the Libyan waste, across + To far Somali-land. +His voice was thick with the drouth of death +And smote the earth as a burning breath, +Or as a curse which Allah saith + Unto a demon-band. + +The caravan from the oasis + Of palm-engirt Kurkur +Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps, + The horror to endure. +Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell +Who longs for the lute of Israfel, +Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well, + Imperishably pure! + +Three days he longed, and the wind three days + About him whirled the shroud. +Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun-- + And a gaunt vulture-crowd. +A few bleak bones on the Desert still + Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill +Again into life--if Allah will: + _Let not your heart be proud._ + + + + +SONGS OF A SEA-FARER + + +I + +Many are on the sea to-day + With all sails set. +The tide rolls in a restive gray, + The wind blows wet. +The gull is weary of his wings, +And I am weary of all things. + +Heavy upon me longing lies, + My sad eyes gaze +Across the leagues that sink and rise + And sink always. +My life has sunk and risen so, +I'd have it cease awhile to flow. + + +II + +All the winds of the sea weary, + All the waves of the sea rest, +All the wants of my heart settle + Softly now in my breast. +All the stars that in heaven anchor, + Golden buoys of Elysian light, +Send me across the gulf promise + That I am faring right. + +So while clouds that are left lonely + At the gates of the far West +Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller + Stealing from her nest, +I am held by a low vesper + Haunting afar the vague twilight, +Then with my soul at peace whisper + Hallowedly good-night. + + + + +A SONG OF THE SECTS + +(_In a Jerusalem tavern_) + + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr, +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Armenian sings_ + +The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a braggart face +He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in place. +In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the blasphemer! +But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Latin sings_ + +The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images, +And damns your soul to Hell--no purgatory, if you please! +About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr, +But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Copt sings_ + +Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are worst, +They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ the first. +No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix heathen myrrh-- +Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Greek sings_ + +The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible. +Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his skull +Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie aver-- +Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + +_The Four again_ + +A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian and Copt, +And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've together sopped. +Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a Juniper, +For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy Sepulchre! + + + + +THE CITY + + +Soft and fair by the Desert's edge, + And on the dim blue edge of the sea, +Where white gulls wing all day and fledge +Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge, +There is a city I have beheld, +Sometime or where, by day or dream, +I know not which, for it seems enspelled + As I am by its memory. + +Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce + Above it into the white of the skies, +And sails enchanted a thousand years +Flit at its feet while fancy steers. +No face of all its faces to me +Is known--no passion of it or pain. +It is but a city by the sea, + Enshrined forever beyond my eyes! + + + + +VIA AMOROSA + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +When we two walk, my love, on the path + The moon makes over the sea, +To the end of the world where sorrow hath + An end that is ecstasy, +Should we not think of the other road + Of wearying dust and stone +Our feet would fare did each but care + To follow the way alone? + +When we two slip at night to the skies + And find one star that we keep +As a trysting-place to which our eyes + May lead our souls ere sleep, +Should we not pause for a little space + And think how many must sigh +Because they gaze over starry ways + With no heart-comrade by? + +When we two then lie down to our dreams + That deepen still the delight +Of our wandering where stars and streams + Stray in immortal light, +Should we not grieve with the myriads + From East of earth to West +Who lay them down at night but to drown + The longing for some loved breast? + +Ah, yes, for life has a thousand gifts, + But love it is gives life. +Who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts + A soul that is sorrow-rife. +But they to whom it is given to tread + The moon-path and not sink +Can ever say the unhappiest way + Earth has is fair to the brink. + + + + +DUSK AT HIROSHIMA + + +Softly the bamboo bends +As the sun sinks down unglowing, +Softer the willow ends +A sigh to the dusk around. +Quickly the brief bat wends +His flittering way, thro flowing +Fields of the autumn air, +That are husht of the city's sound. + +Temple and thatch and stream +Are forgetting the light that lingers, +Mountain and mist in dream +Already are lost, afar. +Faintingly comes the beam +Of the moon--then viewless fingers +Tinkle a samisen, +And astir on the East is a star. + + + + +THE WANDERER + + + When moonlight on the face + Of the great Buddha falls + As he sits in Nirvana + On the shores of Kamakura, + When the pines about him place + Soft shadows at his feet +Like offerings of penitence and tears, + I hear in the grace + Of the wind's low susurra + A voice that calls me still + To my home within the West, + But I've lingered overlong + In the East's strange arcana +And no more is there desire within my breast. + + I left it when a boy, + That far home and, alas, + 'Twas so fair that my dreaming + Earth had fairer was a madness. + I left it for the joy + Of wandering the world, +And heathen-hearted lands have I beheld! + But when at last cloy + Of delight brought sadness + Like lotus to my veins, + And forgetfulness seemed fate, + I had fared unto this shrine + And the moon as now was beaming, +And here have I awaited--and await. + + But not for any gift + Of its god, or any grace + That in living or in dying + Men in text or sutra sigh for. + And not for any shrift + Nirvana has, or skies +Where Paradise imperishably smiles. + But only for the sift + Of the wind, that seems to die for + My soul's enduring peace + In the dwelling of the Tomb. + And only for the drift + Of the moon that comes denying +Eternity to everything but Doom. + + + + +IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN + + +Under the torii, robed in green, + The old priest creeps to the shrine. +Over the bridge the still stork stands, + The crow caws not in the pine. + +Far in the distance bugles blow, + War's bloody memory wakes. +The priest prays on--for his sons that are dead, + And the heart within him breaks. + + + + +FAR FUJIYAMA + + +Against the phantom gold of failing skies +I see the ghost of Fujiyama rise +And think of the innumerable eyes + That have beheld its vision sunset-crowned. +The peasant in his field of rice or tea, +The prince in gardens dreaming by the sea, +The priest to whom the semi in the tree + Was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound. + +And as I think upon them, lo, the trance +Of backward time and distant circumstance, +Of Karma's all-remembering necromance, + Lies suddenly before my boundless sight. +It is as if, a moment, Buddhahood +Were given to me; as if understood +At last were vague Nirvana's vaguer good; + As if time were dissolved in living light. + + + + +ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN + +(_To A. H. R._) + + +Out on the sea the sampans ride + And the mountains brim with mist and sun. +O we are in Japan again + And the spell is about us spun! +The spell of the old enchanting East, +Of Buddha and many a blissful priest, +The spell that has never, never ceased + To haunt us! + +Glad we behold the temple-tops + And the lanterns in religious row +Standing, like acolytes of stone, + Where the pine and camphor grow. +And o'er them the old pagoda prays +Blessing upon their dreaming days, +And upon the eightfold sacred ways + From Sorrow! + +Ah, and the torii too is there + Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine +Daily, with tidal mystery + And majesty divine. +He enters now, as the nuptial sea +Of love first entered our hearts, to be +Lord of their tides eternally, + And Master! + + + + +OLD AGE + + +I have heard the wild geese, + I have seen the leaves fall, +There was frost last night + On the garden wall. +It is gone to-day + And I hear the wind call. + The wind?... that is all. + +If the swallow will light + When evening is near; +If the crane will not scream + Like a soul in fear; +I will think no more + Of the dying year, + And the wind, its seer. + + + + +ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG + + + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junk + And tatterdemalion sampan glide, +Sails of brown and black and yellow swinging. + Down the Yang-tse bat-wing junks + Fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide, + Forth to the sea in sloth they ride, + The coolies singing. + + Off in the field the peasant toils + And along the canal the low tows slip, +Fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them. + Off in the field the peasant toils-- + With lip and brow the dull years strip + Bare of the dreams of life, whose grip + Has grimly drawn them. + + High on the hill the yamen rests + And the temple beside it sleeps in sun, +Far in the distance faints the city dreary. + High on the hill the yamen rests, + And dun dead shadows o'er it run: + This is the land where Time begun + And now grows weary. + + + + +THE SEA-ARMIES + + + The wild sea-armies led by the wind + Are following in our wake, +White-crested shouting millions moving on. + They have broken their camp of Calm and o'er + The world rebellion make, +With banner of cloud and mist above them drawn. + + They have heard the call of infinite Death, + The ordering of his word, +"Arise, go forth and conquer where ye can; + For that is the only law ye know, + Its mandate men have heard, +Let them beware when they your path would span. + + "Let them beware, for I am lord + Of all that on earth has name, +And unto you is given most my might. + Ride on, ye have many a ship to rend, + And many a mast to maim, +And many a land to lash and soul to fright." + + So on they ride, a ravaging horde, + From shore to shuddering shore, +Beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn; + Nor know that when they have camped again + And sleep, Life will restore +Unto her world the hope they have withdrawn. + + + + +THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE + +(_Mandalay_) + + +The palms along the old fort wall are paling, + The mountains in the evening light are red, +The moon has dropped into the moat from heaven, + A spell barbaric over all is spread. +But what is that to him, a stranger lonely, + In a land strange to all his faith and dim? +He cares not for old splendours, he would only + Hear on the air a simple Sabbath hymn. + +The paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking + From the tall tamarind unto their nest, +The bullock-carts along the road are creaking, + The bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest. +On a calm jetty looking off to Mecca + Sons of Mahomet watch the low day's rim. +He too is waiting for it--with an echo + Upon his lips of a believer's hymn. + +The red gate-towers rise against the twilight, + The palace of the heathen king is hid, +The white bridge bent across the moat beside it + Seems now of all unholinesses rid. +He wishes it were so with all this city + Whose Buddha-built pagodas skyward swim; +But he can only gaze on them and pity-- + And sing within his heart a Christian hymn. + + + + +THE PARSEE WOMAN + +(_At Bombay_) + + +Cast me out from among you, + I will not see my child +Laid aloft where the vultures + May clamour for him, wild! +The earth you say is holy, + Not to be soiled by death, +And a Parsee still should hold divine + What Zoroaster saith. + +Ay, and so I will hold it, + But see his pale sweet face, +As pure as the palest flower + Left dead in Spring's embrace. +The sun we worship daily + Shrined it for seven years, +Then shall it go to cruel beaks, + There where the sea-wind veers? + +No, no, no! tho you send me + A beggar from your door, +You, my lord, whom I honour, + And you, his sisters four, +To whom there have come no children + To make your bosoms feel +How even a thought so full of throe + Can make my sick brain reel. + +Ah, you are deaf? you scorn me + And loathe, as a thing defiled? +My lord, I am but a woman + Who longs to see her child +Laid in a tomb, entreasured + Under the shrouding sod. +O would I had never given birth, + Or that earth had no God! + + + + +SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL + + + I see as in a pale mirage + The palm that o'er you sways, +The waters of the Jumna wan are beating. + One pearl-cloud, like a far-off Taj, + A dome of grief betrays-- +Its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting! + + The world is wider than I knew + Now that your face is gone! +While you were here no destiny seemed boundless. + So I am lost and find no clue + To any dusk or dawn! +Life has become a quest decayed and groundless. + + Come back! come back or let me find + The jungle leads at last +Unto your lips and bosom recreated! + O somewhere I again must wind + My arms about you, cast +Into one word my love all unabated! + + + + +PRINCESS JEHANARA + + +Where the road leads from Delhi to the South, +And dingy camel-trains creep in the dust +Past ruin-heaps of old Firozabad +And Indropat unpitied of the drouth; +By a lone tree, above a Pool whose sad +Prayer-water all the turban-people trust, +Is a heat-hidden tomb, and on it just +A few faint blades of bent and grieving grass. +"Jehanara's it is," with ready mouth +A Moslem tells the stranger, "once she said, +'The covering of the poor is only grass, +Let it be mine alone when I am dead.'" +And who has stood there, where about her Rest +Rise high Imperial tombs, knows hers is best. + + + + +A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT + + + As the cocoanut-palm + That pines, my love, + Away from the sound + Of the planter's voice, + Am I, for I hear + No more resound +Your song by the pearl-strewn sea! + The sun may come + And the moon wax round, + And in its beam + My mates may rejoice, + But I feast not + And my heart is dumb, +As I long, O long, for thee! + + In the jungle-deeps, + Where the cobra creeps, + The leopard lies + In wait for me. + But O, my love, + When the daylight dies +There is more to my dread than he! + Harsh lonely tears + That assail my eyes + Are worse to bear, + For the misery + That makes them well + Is the long, long years +That I moan away from thee! + + O again, again, + In my katamaran + A-keel would I push + To your palmy door! + Again would I hear + The heave and hush +Of your song by the plantain-tree. + But far away + Do I toil and crush + The hopes that arise + At my sick heart's core. + For never near + Does it come, the day +That draws me again to thee! + + + + +ON THE ARABIAN GULF + + +From a far minaret of faithful cloud +A wraith-muezzin of the sunset cried +Over the sea that swung with sultan pride, +"Allah is Beauty, there is none beside! +Allah is Beauty, not to be denied +By Death or any Infidel dark-browed!" + +And every wave that worshipped, every one +Under the mosque of heaven arching high, +Lifted a white crest with assenting sigh +And answered, "Let all gods but Allah die, +Yea, let all gods! until the world shall cry, +Beauty alone is left under the sun!" + + + + +THE RAMESSID + + +Upon an image of immortal stone, +Seated and vast, the moon of Luxor falls, +Lending to it a stillness that appals, +A mystery Osirian and strange. +The hands outplaced upon the knees in lone +And placid majesty reveal the power +Of Egypt in her most triumphal hour, +The calm of tyranny that cannot change. +It is of that Great king, who heard the cries +Of millions toil to lift him to the skies, +Who saw them perish at their task like flies, +Yet let no eye of pity o'er them range. +What rue, then, if his desecrated face +Rots now at Cairo in a mummy case? + + + + +IMMORTAL FOES + + +At Bedrashein between the pyramids +I saw the winged sun fold up his pinions +And sink into the nether world's dominions +Where Set sent ill on the Egyptian dead. +I saw the ancient Desert, that outbids +The Nile for the date-lands between them spread, +Fling over Memphis that is vanished, +Another shroud of sand, then bid his minions, +The winds, lie down upon their boundless bed. + +I saw where temples vowed to Serapis +And granite splendours men name Pharaonic +Are kept by Time in silence and sardonic +Concealment--mummied in deep mystic tombs. +And when the stars came out in quiet bliss, +I heard Eternity with all its dooms, +Past and to come, sound softly the mnemonic +Of Death who waits all worlds that Life enwombs. + + + + +THE CONSCRIPT + + +The camel at the old sakiyeh + Toils around and round. +Aweary is he of the Nile + And of the wailing sound +Of the slow wheel he turns all day +To lift the water on its way +Over the fields of Ahmed Bey, + That with green grain abound. + +Aweary is he, too, of fellaheen + Who compel him on, +With thick-voiced chanting till the day + Over the West has gone. +For the bold Desert was he made, +The Bedouin, his lord, to aid, +Not for this peasant wheel of trade + That ever must be drawn. + +But on he toils while dahabiyeh + And dark felucca glide +Below him on the glassy flow + Of the gray river's tide. +Then when the night has come lies down, +In sleep the servile day to drown-- +Like all whom Life turns with a frown + From their true fate aside. + + + + +NAVIS IGNOTA + + +Lord, what ship goes forth to-day? + I see her setting West. +Shall she have thy winds aright, +Stars to guide her with their light, +Shall she sweep the seas to sight + Of land and harbour-rest? + +Awful is thy ocean-wrath, + And none can chart thy shoals +When storm unassuaging hath +Blotted sun and planet-path. +Shall she, Lord, escape the scath + And live, with all her souls? + +For it is a beauteous thing + That ships should sail the sea. +Splendid is their plunge and swing +Into waves that foam and fling +Maelstroms at their bows to bring + Them down to destiny. + +And she, too, courageous rides + Away into the gloom. +Now her lights are lost in tides +Of the windy spray that glides +Thro the darkness, Lord, abides + Thy Dove with her--or Doom? + +I shall know perhaps some day, + Or, knowing not, recall +How my heart was fain to pray +For a ship that bravely lay +To her task: O Lord, so may + Each vessel of us all! + + + + +THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE + + +Within the Holy Sepulchre, breast-high, +There is a cross uncounted lips have kissed, +Millions the world to dust has long dismissed, +Millions that now hope of it but to die. +Pilgrims, I saw, from out far fervid lands +Of superstition, North and West and South, +Bend to it each a trembling, reverent mouth, +Then kneel where Christ was said to loose Death's bands. +And then I wondered if He who believed +In the One God were wounded sore by this, +Whether He shrinks at each ecstatic kiss, +Or knowing how humanity is grieved, +Knows too that it is better to give Hope +Than Truth, if only one is in man's scope. + + + + +THE NUN + + +A lone palm leans in the moonlight + Over a convent wall. +The sea below is waking and breaking + With quiet heave and fall. +A young nun sits at the window; + For Heaven she is too fair; +Yet even the Dove of God might nest + In her bosom beating there. + +A lone ship sails from the harbour: + Whom does it bear away? +Her lover who sin-hearted has parted + And left her but to pray? +She has no lover, nor ever + Has heard afar love's sigh. +Only the convent's vesper vow + Has ever dimmed her eye. + +For naught knows she of her beauty, + More than the palm of its peace; +And who beyond Christ's portal to mortal + Desires would bend her knees? +The ways of the World have flowers, + And any who will pluck those; +But let there ever be a place + Where none may pluck God's rose. + + + + +ALPINE CHANT + + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +They are rising white around me, +Snow peaks like patriarchs + That Winter has enthroned. +I'm tramping up the valleys +Where the cataracts sound me +Thunders they have shrilly + From eternity intoned. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains, +With the clouds for my companions, +Soft clouds that float and cling + From crag to cloven crag. +I'm passing by the chalets +That o'erhang the high canyons, +Passing where the shepherds + And the flocks they pipe to lag. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +Where the pines in proud procession +Climb like a hardy host + To halo-heights of sun. +I'm listening for the sallies +Of the avalanche's Hessian +Hurl of ice and granite + Into gulfs Avernian. + +I'm tramping thro the mountains +And the wind is yodling to me +Yearnings of the glaciers + To flow to summer lands. +I'm treading up the valleys +With no wanting to undo me-- +For to-day I'm goalless + And the great God understands! + + + + +THE MAN OF MIGHT + + +No moment drooped between his thought and action, + No morrow died between his dream and deed. +Within his soul there was no fatal faction + That could betray him in his hour of need. + + + + +IN TIME OF AWE + + +The fierce sea-sunset over the world + Springs like a wounded spirit, +The waves all day have hissed and hurled +Their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled, +And ships in the gray gale's lair have furled + Their sails--well may they fear it! + +The night will be but a monstrous seethe + Of terrors elemental. +The clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath +Of gloom the winds that in them breathe, +And all that lives in the sea beneath + By fear shall be made gentle; + +And sink down, down to the nether deeps, + Below the foam and fretting. +Down where the sullen water sleeps +Alway and the slow sand coldly creeps +Over the lone wreck, which Death keeps + To guard him 'gainst forgetting. + +And there in the ominous vast calm + They'll harbour, like enchanted +Chill shapes he has strangely conjured from +The silence of his masterdom; +There float till again they feel the qualm + Of hunger thro them panted. + +And then once more far up will they spring, + To drift and sport and plunder, +Shark, eel and whale and devil-thing, +With tooth to rend and tail to sting. +To the sea, O God, does horror cling + And haunting past all wonder. + + + + +SUNRISE IN UTAH + + +The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea +Rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn, +And terrible in an eternity +Of death took silently the sunrise on. +Purple funereal from rifted skies +Swept down across their proud sterility, +Only to die as here all glory dies, +On barrenness I did not dream could be. +O God, for a bird-song! or opening lips +Of but one flower upon the fatal air, +For but the voice of water as it drips, +Or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware! +O God, for these, for life! or from the face +Of the world wipe so irreparable a place! + + + + +CONSOLATION + + +I + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill, +Lie softly at my feet. +The sun has worked his will +And the day is done. +Come to me softly and distil +Your dews and dreams, that heat +And hours of heartless glare have overrun. + + +II + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill +And bring with you the night, +Fire-flies and the whippoorwill +And ah, the moon-- +Whose soft interpretings can still +The tangled tongues of right +And wrong, and hope and fear, that haunt the noon. + + +III + +Come to me, shadows, down the hill-- +And let there follow Sleep, +Which is God's tidal Will +That overflows +The world--obliterating ill, +And in its soothing sweep +Murmuring more of mercy than man knows. + + + + +WAVES + + +The evening sails come home + With twilight in their wings. +The harbour-light across the gloam + Springs; + The wind sings. + +The waves begin to tell + The sea's night-sorrow o'er, +Weaving within their ancient spell + More + Than earth's lore. + +The rising moon wafts strange + Low lures across the tide, +On which my dim thoughts seem to range, + Stride + Upon stride, +Until, with flooding thrill, + They seem at last to blend +With waves that from the Eternal Will + Wend, + Without end. + + + + +VIS ULTIMA + + +There is no day but leads me to + A peak impossible to scale, + A task at which my hands must fail, + A sea I cannot swim or sail. +There is no night I suffer thro + But Destiny rules stern and pale: +And yet what I am meant to do + I will do, ere Death drop his veil. + +And it shall be no little thing, + Tho to oblivion it fall, + For I shall strive to it thro all + That can imperil or appal. +So at each morning's trumpet-ring + I mount again, less slave and thrall, +And at the barriers gladly fling + A fortitude that scorns to crawl. + + + + +MEREDITH + + +What am I reading? He is dead? +He the great interpreter +And seer--England's noblest head? +What am I reading? It is hushed? +The deepest voice that life had found +To read a century profound +With all time's seethe and stir? + +Why, it is but a scanty score +Of days, since, at his side, +Clasping his hand with more than pride, +I felt that the immortal tide +Of his great mind would long break o'er +The cold command of Death. +Still in my ear is echoing +The surf of his strong words, and still +Against the wild trees on the Hill +His cottage sheltered under, +I see the toss of his gray locks, +Like Lear's--for he had felt the sting +Of all too greatly giving +The kingdom of his mind to those +Who for it held him mad. + +O England, guard thy living +Like him from a like fate! +For not the mighty thunder +Of thy proud name from all the rocks +Of all the world can compensate +A nation whom no Song makes glad, +And whom no Seer makes great. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Many Gods, by Cale Young Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANY GODS *** + +***** This file should be named 30225.txt or 30225.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/2/30225/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. 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