,,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 ,,doubleday1 ,,page ,,company ,,mcmx ,,all ,,rights ,,reserved1 ,,including ,,that ,,of ,,translation ,,into ,,foreign ,,languages1 ,,including ,,the ,,scandinavian ,,copyright1 #aiaj1 ,,by ,,doubleday1 ,,page ,,company ,,published1 ,,february1 #aiaj ,,to ,,finis ,,king ,,farr ,,an ,,old ,,and ,,dear ,,comrade ,,contents ,,page ,,all',s ,,well #c ,,the ,,proselyte ,,recants #f ,,love ,,in ,,japan #aj ,,maple ,,leaves ,,on ,,miyajima #ac ,,typhoon #ae ,,penang #ag ,,when ,,the ,,wind ,,is ,,low #bj ,,the ,,pagoda ,,slave #bb ,,the ,,ships ,,of ,,the ,,sea #be ,,kinchinjunga #bf ,,the ,,barren ,,woman #bi ,,by ,,the ,,taj ,,mahal #cb ,,love',s ,,cynic #ce ,,in ,a ,,tropical ,,garden #db ,,the ,,wind',s ,,word #df ,,the ,,shrine ,,of ,,shrines #dg ,,from ,a ,,felucca #dh ,,the ,,egyptian ,,wakes #di ,,the ,,imam',s ,,parable #ej ,,songs ,,of ,a ,,sea-,,farer #eb ,a ,,song ,,of ,,the ,,sects #ed ,,the ,,city #eg ,,via ,,amorosa #eh ,,dusk ,,at ,,hiroshima #fj ,,the ,,wanderer #fa ,,in ,a ,,shinto ,,temple ,,garden #fd ,,far ,,fujiyama #fe ,,on ,,miyajima ,,mountain #ff ,,old ,,age #fh ,,on ,,the ,,yang-,,tse-,,kiang #fi ,,the ,,sea-,,armies #ga ,,the ,,christian ,,in ,,exile #gc ,,the ,,parsee ,,woman #ge ,,shah ,,jehan ,,to ,,mumtaz ,,mahal #gg ,,princess ,,jehanara #gi ,a ,,cinghalese ,,love ,,lament #hj ,,on ,,the ,,arabian ,,gulf #hc ,,the ,,ramessid #hd ,,immortal ,,foes #he ,,the ,,conscript #hg ,,navis ,,ignota #hi ,,the ,,cross ,,of ,,the ,,sepulchre #ia ,,the ,,nun #ib ,,alpine ,,chant #id ,,the ,,man ,,of ,,might #if ,,in ,,time ,,of ,,awe #ig ,,sunrise ,,in ,,utah #ii ,,consolation #ajj ,,waves #ajb ,,vis ,,ultima #ajd ,,meredith #ajf ,,many ,,gods ,,all',s ,,well ,i ,the illimitable leaping of the sea1 ,the mouthing of his madness to the moon1 ,the seething of his endless sorcery1 ,his prophecy no power can attune1 ,swept over me as1 on the sounding prow ,of a great ship that steered into the stars1 ,i stood and felt the awe upon my brow ,of death and destiny and all that mars4 ,,ii ,the wind that blew from ,cassiopeia cast ,wanly upon my ear a rune that rung2 ,the sailor in his eyrie on the mast ,sang an ,all's well1 that to the spirit clung ,like a lost voice from some arial realm ,where ships sail on forever to no shore1 ,where ,time gives ,immortality the helm1 ,and fades like a far phantom from life's door4 ,,iii ,and is all well1 ,o ,thou ,unweariable ,launcher of worlds upon bewildered space1 ,rose in me1 ,all8 or did thy hand grow dull ,building this world that bears a piteous race8 ,o was it launched too soon or launched too late8 ,or can it be a derelict that drifts ,beyond thy ken toward some reef of ,fate ,on which ,oblivion's sand forever shifts8 ,,iv ,the sea grew softer as ,i questioned--calm ,with mystery that like an answer moved1 ,and from infinity there fell a balm1 ,the old peace that ,god is1 tho all unproved4 ,the old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun ,the soul1 and knowledge drown within their deep1 ,there is no world that wanders1 no not one ,of all the millions1 that ,he does not keep4 ,,the ,,proselyte ,,recants 7,in ,japan7 ,where the fair golden idols ,sit in darkness and in silence ,while the temple drum beats solemnly and slow2 ,where the tall cryptomerias ,sway in worship round about ,and the rain that is falling whispers low2 ,i can hear strange voices ,of the dead and forgotten1 ,on the dimly rising incense ,i can see ,the lives ,i have lived1 ,and my lives unbegotten1 ,namu ,amida ,butsu pity me6 ,i was born this karma ,of a mother in ,chuzenji1 ,where ,nantai-zan looks down into the lake2 ,where the white-thronged pilgrims ,climb to altars in the clouds ,and behold the holy eastern dawn awake4 ,it was there ,i wandered ,till a priest of the ,christians ,with the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze4 ,in grief ,i had grown1 ,so upon its grief ,i pondered4 ,namu ,amida ,butsu1 keep my days6 ,it was wrong1 he told me1 ,to pray ,jiso for my children1 ,and ,binzuru for healing of my ills4 ,and our gods so many ,were conceived1 he said1 in sin1 ,from ,lord ,shaka to the least upon the hills4 ,in despair ,i listened ,for my heart beat hopeless1 ,not a temple of my land had helped me live4 ,but alas that day ,when ,i let my soul be christened6 ,namu ,amida ,butsu1 ,o forgive6 ,for the ,christ they gave me ,as the only ,law and ,lotus1 ,as the only way to ,light that will not wane1 ,may perchance have power ,for the people of the ,west1 ,but to me he seemed the servitor of pain4 ,for in pain he perished ,as one born to passion3 ,in some other life no doubt his sin was great1 ,tho they told me no1 ,those who followed him and cherished4 ,namu ,amida ,butsu1 such is fate4 ,so again to idols ,of the ,buddha who is boundless1 ,while the temple drum is beating thro the rain1 ,i have turned from treason ,into ,meditation's truth1 ,from the strife the ,western god regards as gain4 ,and if now ,i'm dying ,as the voices tell me1 ,to the lives that ,i must live ,i'll meekly go2 ,till my long grief ends ,in ,nirvana1 and my sighing4 ,namu ,amida ,butsu1 be it so6 ,,love ,,in ,,japan ,i ,dragon-fly lighting ,on the temple-bell1 ,whose soul do you hear ,on the ,day of the ,dead8 ,the soul of my lover8 ,ah me1 the plighting ,between two hearts ,that were never wed6 ,dragon-fly1 quickly1 ,the priest is coming6 ,oh1 the boom ,of the bitter bell6 ,now you are gone ,and my tears fall thickly4 ,how of ,heaven ,do the gods make ,hell6 ,,ii ,the smi is silent 7,autumn rains67 ,the wind-bells tinkle 7,how chill it is67 ,the quick lights come ,on the shoji-panes4 ,come1 ,o ,baku1 ,eater of dreams6 ,the maple darkens 7,pale grow ,i67 ,the near night shivers 7,the temple fades47 ,haunting love ,will not cease to cry6 ,come1 ,o ,baku1 ,eater of dreams6 ,the wild mists gather 7,ah1 my tears67 ,the pane-lights vanish 7,for some there is rest47 ,but for me-- ,the remembered years6 ,come1 ,o ,baku1 ,eater of dreams6 ,,maple ,,leaves ,,on ,,miyajima ,the summer has come1 ,the summer has gone1 ,and the maple leaves lift fairy hands ,that ripple upon the winds of dawn ,where the dim pagoda stands4 ,they ripple and beckon yearningly ,to their sister fairies over the sea1 ,but help comes not1 ,so they fall and flee ,from ,autumn over the sands4 ,and down the mountain ,and into the tide1 ,some are blown where the sampans glide1 ,and some are strewn by the temple's side1 ,and some by the torii4 ,but ,autumn ever ,pursues them till1 ,as ever before1 ,she has her will1 ,and leaves them desolate1 dead and still1 ,ravished afar and wide2 ,leaves them desolate2 crying shrill1 ,no beauty shall abide6 ,,typhoon 7,at ,hong-kong7 ,i was weary and slept on the ,peak2 ,the air clung close like a shroud1 ,and ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear ,hung haunting and hot and loud2 ,i awoke and the sky was dun ,with awe and a dread that soon ,went shuddering thro my heart1 for ,i knew ,that it meant typhoon6 typhoon6 ,in the harbour below1 far down1 ,the junks like fowl in a flock ,were tossing in wingless terror1 or fled ,fluttering in from the shock4 ,the city1 a breathless bend ,of roofs1 by the water strewn1 ,lay silent and waiting1 yet there was none ,within it but said typhoon6 ,then it came1 like a million winds ,gone mad immeasurably1 ,a torrid and tortuous tempest stung ,by rape of the fair ,south ,sea4 ,and it swept like a scud escaped ,from craters of sun or moon1 ,and struck as no power of ,heaven could1 ,or of ,hell--typhoon6 typhoon6 ,and the junks were smitten and torn1 ,the drowning struggled and cried1 ,or1 dashed on the granite walls of the sea1 ,in succourless hundreds died4 ,till ,i shut the sight from my eyes ,and prayed for my soul to swoon3 ,if ever ,i see ,god's face1 let it ,be guiltless of that typhoon6 ,,penang ,i want to go back to ,singapore ,and ship along the ,straits1 ,to a bungalow ,i know beside ,penang2 ,where cocoanut palms along the shore ,are waving1 and the gates ,of ,peace shut ,sorrow out forevermore4 ,i want to go back and hear the surf ,come beating in at night1 ,like the washing of eternity over the dead4 ,i want to see dawn fare up and day ,go down in golden light2 ,i want to go back to ,penang6 ,i want to go back6 ,i want to go back to ,singapore ,and up along the ,straits ,to the bungalow that waits me by the tide4 ,where the ,tamil and ,malay tell their lore ,at evening--and the fates ,have set no soothless canker at life's core4 ,i want to go back and mend my heart ,beneath the tropic moon1 ,while the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts of sleep4 ,i want to believe that ,earth again ,with ,heaven is in tune4 ,i want to go back to ,penang6 ,i want to go back6 ,i want to go back to ,singapore ,and ship along the ,straits ,to the bungalow ,i left upon the strand4 ,where the foam of the world grows faint before ,it enters1 and abates ,in meaning as ,i hear the palm-wind pour4 ,i want to go back and end my days ,some evening when the ,cross ,on the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad4 ,i want to remember when ,i die ,that life elsewhere was loss4 ,i want to go back to ,penang6 ,i want to go back6 ,,when ,,the ,,wind ,,is ,,low 7,to ,a4 ,h4 ,r47 ,when the wind is low1 and the sea is soft1 ,and the far heat-lightning plays ,on the rim of the ,west where dark clouds nest ,on a darker bank of haze2 ,when ,i lean o'er the rail with you that ,i love ,and gaze to my heart's content2 ,i know that the heavens are there above-- ,but you are my firmament4 ,when the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow ,and the watch climbs up the shroud2 ,when the dim mast dips as the vessel slips ,thro the foam that seethes aloud2 ,i know that the years of our life are few1 ,and fain as a bird to flee1 ,that time is as brief as a drop of dew-- ,but you are ,eternity4 ,,the ,,pagoda ,,slave 7,at ,shwe ,dagohn1 in old ,rangoon7 ,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 ,gautama4 ,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 ,nirvana4 ,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 ,wisdom4 ,round and round where the idols gaze ,so pitiless on his pained distress ,he passes on1 ,pale-eyed and wan-- ,a pariah like the dogs behind him4 ,oh1 what sin in a life begot ,thousands of lives ago did he sin ,that he is now by all forgot1 ,even by ,lord ,gautama8 ,oh1 what sin1 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 uttered6 ,midnight comes and the hours of morn1 ,tapers die and the flowers all ,from the most fted altars3 lorn ,and desolate is their odour4 ,midnight goes1 but he watches still ,by each cold spire the moon sets fire1 ,by every palm ,whose silvery calm ,pillar and jewelled porch pray under4 ,is it dawn that is breaking8444 ,no1 ,only a star that falls in the sea1 ,only a wind-bell's louder flow ,of praise to ,lord ,gautama4 ,faithless dawn6 with illusive feet ,it comes too late to ease his fate4 ,he sinks asleep ,a helpless heap1 ,tho for it he may never reach ,nirvana4 ,,the ,,ships ,,of ,,the ,,sea ,into port when the sun was setting ,rode the ship that bore my love1 ,over the breakers wildly fretting1 ,under the skies that shone above4 ,down to the beach ,i ran to meet him2 ,he would come as he had said3 ,and he came--in a sailor's coffin1 ,dead6444 ,o the ships of the sea6 the women ,they from all hope but ,heaven part6 ,the tide has nothing now to tell me1 ,the breakers only break my heart6 ,,kinchinjunga 7,which is the next highest of mountains7 ,i ,o white ,priest of ,eternity1 around ,whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise ,of the earth's immemorial sacrifice ,to ,brahma in whose breath all lives and dies2 ,o ,hierarch enrobed in timeless snows1 ,first-born of ,asia whose maternal throes ,seem changed now to a million human woes1 ,holy thou art and still6 ,be so1 nor sound ,one sigh of all the mystery in thee found4 ,,ii ,for in this world too much is overclear1 ,immortal ,ministrant to many lands1 ,from whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands ,rivers that each libation poured expands4 ,too much is known1 ,o ,ganges-giving sire2 ,thy people fathom life and find it dire1 ,thy people fathom death1 and1 in it1 fire ,to live again1 tho in ,illusion's sphere1 ,behold concealed as ,grief is in a tear4 ,,iii ,wherefore continue1 still enshrined1 thy rites1 ,tho dark ,thibet1 that dread ascetic1 falls ,in strange austerity1 whose trance appals1 ,before thee1 and a suppliant on thee calls4 ,continue still thy silence high and sure1 ,that something beyond fleeting may endure-- ,something that shall forevermore allure ,imagination on to mystic flights ,wherein alone no wing of ,evil lights4 ,,iv ,yea1 wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes ,of lifted granite round with reachless snows4 ,stand for ,eternity while pilgrim rows ,of all the nations envy thy repose4 ,ensheath thy swart sublimities1 unscaled4 ,be that alone on earth which has not failed4 ,be that which never yet has yearned or ailed1 ,but since primeval ,power upreared thy heights ,has stood above all deaths and all delights4 ,v ,and tho thy loftier ,brother shall be ,king1 ,high-priest be thou to ,brahma unrevealed1 ,while thy white sanctity forever sealed ,in icy silence leaves desire congealed4 ,in ghostly ministrations to the sun1 ,and to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun1 ,be holy still1 till ,east to ,west has run1 ,and till no sacrificial suffering ,on any shrine is left to tell life's sting4 ,,the ,,barren ,,woman 7,benares7 ,at the burning-ghat1 ,o ,kali1 ,mother divine and dread1 ,see1 ,i am waiting with open lips ,over the newly dead4 ,i am childless and barren2 pity ,and let me catch the soul ,of him who here on the kindled bier ,pays to ,existence toll4 ,see1 by his guileless body ,i cook the bread and eat4 ,give me the soul he does not need ,now1 for conception sweet4 ,hear1 or my lord and husband ,shall send me from his door ,and take to his side a fairer bride ,whose breast shall be less poor4 ,oft ,i have sought thy temples1 ,by ,ganges now ,i seek1 ,where ashes of all the dead are strewn1 ,and is my prayer not meek8 ,the ghats and the shrines and the people ,that bathe in the holy ,stream ,have heard my cry1 ,o goddess high1 ,shall ,i not have my dream8 ,the women of ,oudh and ,jaipur ,look on my face with scorn4 ,children about their garments cling1 ,to me shall none be born8 ,the death-fires quiver faster1 ,o hasten1 goddess1 a sign1 ,that from this doom into my womb ,thy pledge has passed1 divine4 ,woe6 there is naught but ashes1 ,now1 and the weepers go4 ,lone on the ghat they leave me1 lone1 ,with but the ,river's flow4 ,kali1 ,i ask not jewels ,nor justice1 beauty nor shrift1 ,but for the lowest woman's right1 ,a child--tho ,i die of the gift6 ,,by ,,the ,,taj ,,mahal ,under the ,indian stars1 ,mumtaz ,mahal1 ,i am sitting1 ,watching them wind their silent way ,over your wistful ,tomb2 ,watching the crescent prow ,of the moon among them flitting1 ,fair as the shallop that bore your soul ,to ,paradise's ,room4 ,under the ,indian stars1 ,with palm and peepul about me1 ,with dome and kiosk and minaret ,mounting against the sky1 ,i seem to see your face ,in all the fairness without me2 ,in all the sadness that fills my heart ,to hear your lover's cry4 ,under the ,indian stars ,i look for your ,jasmine ,tower1 ,along the ,river whose barren bed ,lies gray beneath the moon4 ,and thro its magic doors ,you seem like a spirit flower1 ,wandering back from ,allah's bourne ,to seek for some lost boon4 ,under the ,indian stars ,i see you softly moving1 ,among your jewel-lit maidens there1 ,a sweet and ghostly queen1 ,and the scent of attar flung ,in your marble font seems proving ,that passion never can die from love1 ,if truly love has been4 ,under the ,indian stars ,he comes1 the ,shadow of ,allah1 ,jehan1 the lord of ,magnificence1 ,the liege who holds your heart4 ,the silver doors swing back ,and alone with him you hallow ,the amorous night--whose moon has made ,such visions in me start4 ,under the ,indian stars-- ,but the end of all is moaning6 ,i hear his dying breath that from ,your ,tomb shall never die4 ,for every jasper flower ,he set in its dream seems loaning ,to ,beauty a grief1 ,mumtaz ,mahal1 ,and unto ,fate a sigh4 ,,love',s ,,cynic ,i ,o you poets1 ever pretending ,love is immortal1 pipe the truth6 ,empty your books of lies1 the ending ,of no passion can be--,youth4 ,heaven1 you breathe1 will join the broken8 ,come1 was the ,infinite e'er wed1 ,that ,he must evermore be thinking ,of your wedding bed8 ,,ii ,pipe the truth6 tho it clip the glamour ,out of your rhymes and rip your dream4 ,do you believe words can enamour ,death and dry up ,lethe's stream8 ,death8 it is but a ,sponge that passes1 ,one the ,appeaseless e'er will squeeze ,back into ,lethe's flood--whose lasting ,is eternities4 ,,iii ,false6 cry you1 and an unbeseeming ,blasphemy6--,well1 look around4 ,is it not only in blaspheming ,truth is ever to be found8 ,whether it be1 one thing ,i ask you1 ,lovers and poets1 tell1 ,i pray1 ,was there ever a love-oath ended ,ere the ,judgment ,day8 ,,iv ,o1 you answer1 ill is in all things4 ,but in an ancient lie what's good8 ,is it not better just to call things ,what they are--not what we would8 ,when you are clinging to your mistress1 ,love has the face of ,eternity4 ,cling to her then1 but know that ,wanting ,fools the best that be4 ,v ,yet her brows and her eyes that murmur ,all the music1 you say1 of ,god6 ,press her lips but a little firmer-- ,you will feel that they are--sod4 ,but there is living soul beyond them1 ,and it is love's till all things end8 ,children alone build ,paradises ,with but pence to spend4 ,,vi ,ai-ho now6 that is like the cynic1 ,pitying runs your poet-smile1 ,he has sat at the ,devil's clinic ,with some dead love up the while4 ,dead or alive are one with passions1 ,under the potent knife of ,truth ,they will be seen composed of craving-- ,and a little ruth4 ,,vii ,then the world on a lie is living8 ,many a lie has filled its maw6 ,better illusion tho than giving ,faith to a fatal loveless ,law8 ,there is a certain ,socratean ,saying that swine of their ditch are sure2 ,yet do they prove by their contentment ,that it will endure8 ,,viii ,clasp her close6 ,but the truth is in you1 ,tho you have rhymed and rammed it down1 ,hid it with honey-words that win you ,wreaths that you know bedeck the clown4 ,kings they will call you and uplifters ,of your kind8 ,lord save the mark1 ,that we are still for fire dependent ,on so false a spark4 ,,ix ,and so fond6 for you hold immortal ,what has been born a day or two6 ,but it was destined8 ,ay1 your portal ,only has ,god to heed--and you6 ,he with his thrice three million thirsting ,worlds in the throes of death and life ,surely has time to spare for choosing ,your behooven wife6 ,x ,by my faith1 there is not a creature ,mad as a poet1 pants the breeze6 ,give him a mistress and he'll preach her ,as creation's ,masterpiece4 ,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 there4 ,,xi ,and believe that his oath is able6 ,that there is not in all the sea ,water enough to quench the fable ,of his soul's intensity4 ,yet there was never a rose that blossomed ,and endured beyond its day4 ,there was never a fire enkindled ,but the great ,cold had its way4 ,,xii ,pessimist1 is your mortal answer1 ,wait till the love-wind pierces you6 ,wait8 ,i have been the veriest dancer ,to it1 and1 dupe still1 would do ,truth to the death--shall ,i confess it8-- ,for but a moment on one breast4 ,wherefore ,i add--and ,adam bless it6-- ,who loves once is like the rest4 ,,in ,a ,,tropical ,,garden 7,peradeniya1 ,ceylon7 ,i ,the sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all day long1 ,with fingers of heat and light that touch to a mystical growth all things4 ,the spell of him puts pale ,time to sleep1 as an opiate strange and strong1 ,and a waft of his wand1 the wind1 enchantment brings4 ,,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 power4 ,and the giant stems of the bamboo-grass1 the pool astounded1 sees1 ,are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour4 ,,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 sprays4 ,the scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and the torrid bee ,is husht upon its rim1 as in amaze ,,iv ,and there the palms1 the talipot with its lofty blossom-spire1 ,the cocoanut and the slim areca listening await ,what sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial fire ,will next be laid upon some lesser mate4 ,v ,the river1 too1 that he winds as a magic circle round the wealth ,he has here engendered1 has the glide of a serpent lost in trance2 ,and scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from it1 in stealth ,pour it upon the air like necromance4 ,,vi ,and down where the rain-tree and the rife breadfruit together lean ,over its flow1 and the flying-foxes hanging head to earth ,suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing1 is seen ,more of his mazing wizardry in birth4 ,,vii ,all day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye commands ,with steady ray2 and the earth obedient brings enchantment forth4 ,all night long in the humid dark the high-voiced hyla-bands ,chant of it in chill strain from ,south to ,north4 ,,viii ,a wondrous mage1 in a land whose dreams are made reality ,as swift as clouds are made when the young ,monsoon is in the ,south4 ,a land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er to be ,beyond all fear of famishing and drouth4 ,,the ,,wind',s ,,word ,a star that ,i love1 ,the sea1 and ,i1 ,spake together across the night4 ,have peace1 said the star1 ,have power1 said the sea1 ,yea6 ,i answered1 and ,fame's delight6 ,the wind on his way ,to ,araby ,paused and listened and sighed and said1 ,i passed on the sands ,a ,pharaoh's tomb3 ,all these did he have--and he is dead4 ,,the ,,shrine ,,of ,,shrines ,there is in ,egypt by the ancient ,nile ,a temple of imperishable stone1 ,stupendous1 columned1 hieroglyphed1 and known ,to all the world as ,faith's supremest shrine4 ,half in debris it stands1 a granite pile ,gigantic1 stayed midway in resurrection1 ,an awe1 an inspiration1 a dejection ,to all who would the cryptic past divine4 ,the god of it was ,ammon1 and a throng ,of worshippers from ,thebes the royal-gated ,forever at its fervid pylons waited ,while priests poured ever a prophetic song4 ,and yet this ,ammon1 who gave ,egypt laws1 ,is not--and is forgot--and never was6 ,,from ,a ,,felucca ,a white tomb in the desert1 ,an ,arab at his prayers ,beside the ,nile's dark water1 ,where the lone camel fares4 ,an ibis on the sunset1 ,a slow shadouf at rest1 ,and in the caravansary ,low music for the guest4 ,above the tawny city ,a gleam of minarets1 ,resounding the muezzin's ,clear call as the sun sets4 ,a mystery1 a silence1 ,a breathing of strange balm1 ,a peace from ,allah on the wind ,and on the sky his calm4 ,,the ,,egyptian ,,wakes ,i woke at night in my eternal tomb ,the desert sands had hid a thousand years1 ,and heard the ,nile-crier across the gloom ,calling1 ,the flood has come6 beseech the gods6 ,i rose in haste1 as one who blindly hears1 ,and sought the barterers of grain and wine ,culled for the praise and service of divine ,great ,isis1 by the slave who for her plods4 ,but as ,i passed along1 woe6 what was this1 ,strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes ,standing upon the midnight2 ,oh1 the pains ,that swept across my startled thought's abyss6 ,i moaned4 ,my body crumbled into dust4 ,and then my soul fled ,here--where all souls must4 ,,the ,,imam',s ,,parable ,behold1 the wind of the ,desert rose1 ,khamsin1 in a shroud of sand1 ,and swept the ,libyan waste1 across ,to far ,somali-land4 ,his voice was thick with the drouth of death ,and smote the earth as a burning breath1 ,or as a curse which ,allah saith ,unto a demon-band4 ,the caravan from the oasis ,of palm-engirt ,krkr ,shuddered and couched in shaken heaps1 ,the horror to endure4 ,its mighty ,sheik1 like a soul in ,hell ,who longs for the lute of ,israfel1 ,longed for the trickle of ,keneh's well1 ,imperishably pure6 ,three days he longed1 and the wind three days ,about him whirled the shroud4 ,then did a shrill dawn bring the sun-- ,and a gaunt vulture-crowd4 ,a few bleak bones on the ,desert still ,lie for the ,judgment ,day to thrill ,again into life--if ,allah will3 ,let not your heart be proud4 ,,songs ,,of ,a ,,sea-,,farer ,i ,many are on the sea to-day ,with all sails set4 ,the tide rolls in a restive gray1 ,the wind blows wet4 ,the gull is weary of his wings1 ,and ,i am weary of all things4 ,heavy upon me longing lies1 ,my sad eyes gaze ,across the leagues that sink and rise ,and sink always4 ,my life has sunk and risen so1 ,i'd have it cease awhile to flow4 ,,ii ,all the winds of the sea weary1 ,all the waves of the sea rest1 ,all the wants of my heart settle ,softly now in my breast4 ,all the stars that in heaven anchor1 ,golden buoys of ,elysian light1 ,send me across the gulf promise ,that ,i am faring right4 ,so while clouds that are left lonely ,at the gates of the far ,west ,wait1 so still1 for the moon's stiller ,stealing from her nest1 ,i am held by a low vesper ,haunting afar the vague twilight1 ,then with my soul at peace whisper ,hallowedly good-night4 ,a ,,song ,,of ,,the ,,sects 7,in a ,jerusalem tavern7 ,a ,latin and ,greek1 praise ,god1 are we1 ,armenian and ,copt1 ,and we're all drunk as drunk can be1 for we've together sopped4 ,not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth and purr1 ,but we all believe1 we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,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 place4 ,in his ,monophysite ,christ we set no faith1 the blasphemer6 ,but we all believe1 we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,the ,latin sings ,the ,greek will curse you if you call his ,ikons images1 ,and damns your soul to ,hell--no purgatory1 if you please6 ,about ,procession of the ,ghost he's prickly as a burr1 ,but he believes1 as we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,the ,copt sings ,of heretics ,god leaves unburnt1 ,armenians are worst1 ,they will not celebrate the ,day1 that was for ,christ the first4 ,no wine with water mixed for them1 as well mix heathen myrrh-- ,or not believe1 as we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,the ,greek sings ,the ,latin swears his ,roman ,pope is judge infallible4 ,wherefore you may be very sure the ,devil from his skull ,will drink a toast unto all liars1 who such a lie aver-- ,tho they believe1 as we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,the ,four again ,a ,latin and ,greek1 praise ,god1 are we1 ,armenian and ,copt1 ,and we're all drunk as drunk can be1 for we've together sopped4 ,not one of us but hankers to hang all ,jews on a ,juniper1 ,for we all believe1 we all believe1 in the ,holy ,sepulchre6 ,,the ,,city ,soft and fair by the ,desert's edge1 ,and on the dim blue edge of the sea1 ,where white gulls wing all day and fledge ,their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge1 ,there is a city ,i have beheld1 ,sometime or where1 by day or dream1 ,i know not which1 for it seems enspelled ,as ,i am by its memory4 ,pale minarets of the ,prophet pierce ,above it into the white of the skies1 ,and sails enchanted a thousand years ,flit at its feet while fancy steers4 ,no face of all its faces to me ,is known--no passion of it or pain4 ,it is but a city by the sea1 ,enshrined forever beyond my eyes6 ,,via ,,amorosa 7,to ,a4 ,h4 ,r47 ,when we two walk1 my love1 on the path ,the moon makes over the sea1 ,to the end of the world where sorrow hath ,an end that is ecstasy1 ,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 alone8 ,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 sleep1 ,should we not pause for a little space ,and think how many must sigh ,because they gaze over starry ways ,with no heart-comrade by8 ,when we two then lie down to our dreams ,that deepen still the delight ,of our wandering where stars and streams ,stray in immortal light1 ,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 breast8 ,ah1 yes1 for life has a thousand gifts1 ,but love it is gives life4 ,who walks thro his world alone e'er lifts ,a soul that is sorrow-rife4 ,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 brink4 ,,dusk ,,at ,,hiroshima ,softly the bamboo bends ,as the sun sinks down unglowing1 ,softer the willow ends ,a sigh to the dusk around4 ,quickly the brief bat wends ,his flittering way1 thro flowing ,fields of the autumn air1 ,that are husht of the city's sound4 ,temple and thatch and stream ,are forgetting the light that lingers1 ,mountain and mist in dream ,already are lost1 afar4 ,faintingly comes the beam ,of the moon--then viewless fingers ,tinkle a samisen1 ,and astir on the ,east is a star4 ,,the ,,wanderer ,when moonlight on the face ,of the great ,buddha falls ,as he sits in ,nirvana ,on the shores of ,kamakura1 ,when the pines about him place ,soft shadows at his feet ,like offerings of penitence and tears1 ,i hear in the grace ,of the wind's low susurra ,a voice that calls me still ,to my home within the ,west1 ,but ,i've lingered overlong ,in the ,east's strange arcana ,and no more is there desire within my breast4 ,i left it when a boy1 ,that far home and1 alas1 ',twas so fair that my dreaming ,earth had fairer was a madness4 ,i left it for the joy ,of wandering the world1 ,and heathen-hearted lands have ,i beheld6 ,but when at last cloy ,of delight brought sadness ,like lotus to my veins1 ,and forgetfulness seemed fate1 ,i had fared unto this shrine ,and the moon as now was beaming1 ,and here have ,i awaited--and await4 ,but not for any gift ,of its god1 or any grace ,that in living or in dying ,men in text or sutra sigh for4 ,and not for any shrift ,nirvana has1 or skies ,where ,paradise imperishably smiles4 ,but only for the sift ,of the wind1 that seems to die for ,my soul's enduring peace ,in the dwelling of the ,tomb4 ,and only for the drift ,of the moon that comes denying ,eternity to everything but ,doom4 ,,in ,a ,,shinto ,,temple ,,garden ,under the torii1 robed in green1 ,the old priest creeps to the shrine4 ,over the bridge the still stork stands1 ,the crow caws not in the pine4 ,far in the distance bugles blow1 ,war's bloody memory wakes4 ,the priest prays on--for his sons that are dead1 ,and the heart within him breaks4 ,,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-crowned4 ,the peasant in his field of rice or tea1 ,the prince in gardens dreaming by the sea1 ,the priest to whom the smi in the tree ,was but some shrilling soul's incarnate sound4 ,and as ,i think upon them1 lo1 the trance ,of backward time and distant circumstance1 ,of ,karma's all-remembering necromance1 ,lies suddenly before my boundless sight4 ,it is as if1 a moment1 ,buddhahood ,were given to me2 as if understood ,at last were vague ,nirvana's vaguer good2 ,as if time were dissolved in living light4 ,,on ,,miyajima ,,mountain 7,to ,a4 ,h4 ,r47 ,out on the sea the sampans ride ,and the mountains brim with mist and sun4 ,o we are in ,japan again ,and the spell is about us spun6 ,the spell of the old enchanting ,east1 ,of ,buddha and many a blissful priest1 ,the spell that has never1 never ceased ,to haunt us6 ,glad we behold the temple-tops ,and the lanterns in religious row ,standing1 like acolytes of stone1 ,where the pine and camphor grow4 ,and o'er them the old pagoda prays ,blessing upon their dreaming days1 ,and upon the eightfold sacred ways ,from ,sorrow6 ,ah1 and the torii too is there ,where the tranced sea enters to his shrine ,daily1 with tidal mystery ,and majesty divine4 ,he enters now1 as the nuptial sea ,of love first entered our hearts1 to be ,lord of their tides eternally1 ,and ,master6 ,,old ,,age ,i have heard the wild geese1 ,i have seen the leaves fall1 ,there was frost last night ,on the garden wall4 ,it is gone to-day ,and ,i hear the wind call4 ,the wind8444 that is all4 ,if the swallow will light ,when evening is near2 ,if the crane will not scream ,like a soul in fear2 ,i will think no more ,of the dying year1 ,and the wind1 its seer4 ,,on ,,the ,,yang-,,tse-,,kiang ,down the ,yang-tse bat-wing junk ,and tatterdemalion sampan glide1 ,sails of brown and black and yellow swinging4 ,down the ,yang-tse bat-wing junks ,fish-eyed and gaudy take the tide1 ,forth to the sea in sloth they ride1 ,the coolies singing4 ,off in the field the peasant toils ,and along the canal the low tows slip1 ,fruit of the red persimmon piled upon them4 ,off in the field the peasant toils-- ,with lip and brow the dull years strip ,bare of the dreams of life1 whose grip ,has grimly drawn them4 ,high on the hill the yamn rests ,and the temple beside it sleeps in sun1 ,far in the distance faints the city dreary4 ,high on the hill the yamn rests1 ,and dun dead shadows o'er it run3 ,this is the land where ,time begun ,and now grows weary4 ,,the ,,sea-,,armies ,the wild sea-armies led by the wind ,are following in our wake1 ,white-crested shouting millions moving on4 ,they have broken their camp of ,calm and o'er ,the world rebellion make1 ,with banner of cloud and mist above them drawn4 ,they have heard the call of infinite ,death1 ,the ordering of his word1 ,arise1 go forth and conquer where ye can2 ,for that is the only law ye know1 ,its mandate men have heard1 ,let them beware when they your path would span4 ,let them beware1 for ,i am lord ,of all that on earth has name1 ,and unto you is given most my might4 ,ride on1 ye have many a ship to rend1 ,and many a mast to maim1 ,and many a land to lash and soul to fright4 ,so on they ride1 a ravaging horde1 ,from shore to shuddering shore1 ,beyond us in the bleak star-buried dawn2 ,nor know that when they have camped again ,and sleep1 ,life will restore ,unto her world the hope they have withdrawn4 ,,the ,,christian ,,in ,,exile 7,mandalay7 ,the palms along the old fort wall are paling1 ,the mountains in the evening light are red1 ,the moon has dropped into the moat from heaven1 ,a spell barbaric over all is spread4 ,but what is that to him1 a stranger lonely1 ,in a land strange to all his faith and dim8 ,he cares not for old splendours1 he would only ,hear on the air a simple ,sabbath hymn4 ,the paddy-birds their snowy flight are taking ,from the tall tamarind unto their nest1 ,the bullock-carts along the road are creaking1 ,the bugles o'er the wall are sounding rest4 ,on a calm jetty looking off to ,mecca ,sons of ,mahomet watch the low day's rim4 ,he too is waiting for it--with an echo ,upon his lips of a believer's hymn4 ,the red gate-towers rise against the twilight1 ,the palace of the heathen king is hid1 ,the white bridge bent across the moat beside it ,seems now of all unholinesses rid4 ,he wishes it were so with all this city ,whose ,buddha-built pagodas skyward swim2 ,but he can only gaze on them and pity-- ,and sing within his heart a ,christian hymn4 ,,the ,,parsee ,,woman 7,at ,bombay7 ,cast me out from among you1 ,i will not see my child ,laid aloft where the vultures ,may clamour for him1 wild6 ,the earth you say is holy1 ,not to be soiled by death1 ,and a ,parsee still should hold divine ,what ,zoroaster saith4 ,ay1 and so ,i will hold it1 ,but see his pale sweet face1 ,as pure as the palest flower ,left dead in ,spring's embrace4 ,the sun we worship daily ,shrined it for seven years1 ,then shall it go to cruel beaks1 ,there where the sea-wind veers8 ,no1 no1 no6 tho you send me ,a beggar from your door1 ,you1 my lord1 whom ,i honour1 ,and you1 his sisters four1 ,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 reel4 ,ah1 you are deaf8 you scorn me ,and loathe1 as a thing defiled8 ,my lord1 ,i am but a woman ,who longs to see her child ,laid in a tomb1 entreasured ,under the shrouding sod4 ,o would ,i had never given birth1 ,or that earth had no ,god6 ,,shah ,,jehan ,,to ,,mumtaz ,,mahal ,i see as in a pale mirage ,the palm that o'er you sways1 ,the waters of the ,jumna wan are beating4 ,one pearl-cloud1 like a far-off ,taj1 ,a dome of grief betrays-- ,its beauty as was yours will be too fleeting6 ,the world is wider than ,i knew ,now that your face is gone6 ,while you were here no destiny seemed boundless4 ,so ,i am lost and find no clue ,to any dusk or dawn6 ,life has become a quest decayed and groundless4 ,come back6 come back or let me find ,the jungle leads at last ,unto your lips and bosom recreated6 ,o somewhere ,i again must wind ,my arms about you1 cast ,into one word my love all unabated6 ,,princess ,,jehanara ,where the road leads from ,delhi to the ,south1 ,and dingy camel-trains creep in the dust ,past ruin-heaps of old ,firozabad ,and ,indropat unpitied of the drouth2 ,by a lone tree1 above a ,pool whose sad ,prayer-water all the turban-people trust1 ,is a heat-hidden tomb1 and on it just ,a few faint blades of bent and grieving grass4 ,jehanara's it is1 with ready mouth ,a ,moslem tells the stranger1 once she said1 ',the covering of the poor is only grass1 ,let it be mine alone when ,i am dead4' ,and who has stood there1 where about her ,rest ,rise high ,imperial tombs1 knows hers is best4 ,a ,,singhalese ,,love ,,lament ,as the cocoanut-palm ,that pines1 my love1 ,away from the sound ,of the planter's voice1 ,am ,i1 for ,i hear ,no more resound ,your song by the pearl-strewn sea6 ,the sun may come ,and the moon wax round1 ,and in its beam ,my mates may rejoice1 ,but ,i feast not ,and my heart is dumb1 ,as ,i long1 ,o long1 for thee6 ,in the jungle-deeps1 ,where the cobra creeps1 ,the leopard lies ,in wait for me4 ,but ,o1 my love1 ,when the daylight dies ,there is more to my dread than he6 ,harsh lonely tears ,that assail my eyes ,are worse to bear1 ,for the misery ,that makes them well ,is the long1 long years ,that ,i moan away from thee6 ,o again1 again1 ,in my katamaran ,a-keel would ,i push ,to your palmy door6 ,again would ,i hear ,the heave and hush ,of your song by the plantain-tree4 ,but far away ,do ,i toil and crush ,the hopes that arise ,at my sick heart's core4 ,for never near ,does it come1 the day ,that draws me again to thee6 ,,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 pride1 ,allah is ,beauty1 there is none beside6 ,allah is ,beauty1 not to be denied ,by ,death or any ,infidel dark-browed6 ,and every wave that worshipped1 every one ,under the mosque of heaven arching high1 ,lifted a white crest with assenting sigh ,and answered1 ,let all gods but ,allah die1 ,yea1 let all gods6 until the world shall cry1 ,beauty alone is left under the sun6 ,,the ,,ramessid ,upon an image of immortal stone1 ,seated and vast1 the moon of ,luxor falls1 ,lending to it a stillness that appals1 ,a mystery ,osirian and strange4 ,the hands outplaced upon the knees in lone ,and placid majesty reveal the power ,of ,egypt in her most triumphal hour1 ,the calm of tyranny that cannot change4 ,it is of that ,great king1 who heard the cries ,of millions toil to lift him to the skies1 ,who saw them perish at their task like flies1 ,yet let no eye of pity o'er them range4 ,what rue1 then1 if his desecrated face ,rots now at ,cairo in a mummy case8 ,,immortal ,,foes ,at ,bedrashein between the pyramids ,i saw the wingd sun fold up his pinions ,and sink into the nether world's dominions ,where ,set sent ill on the ,egyptian dead4 ,i saw the ancient ,desert1 that outbids ,the ,nile for the date-lands between them spread1 ,fling over ,memphis that is vanishd1 ,another shroud of sand1 then bid his minions1 ,the winds1 lie down upon their boundless bed4 ,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 tombs4 ,and when the stars came out in quiet bliss1 ,i heard ,eternity with all its dooms1 ,past and to come1 sound softly the mnemonic ,of ,death who waits all worlds that ,life enwombs4 ,,the ,,conscript ,the camel at the old sakiyeh ,toils around and round4 ,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 ,bey1 ,that with green grain abound4 ,aweary is he1 too1 of fellheen ,who compel him on1 ,with thick-voiced chanting till the day ,over the ,west has gone4 ,for the bold ,desert was he made1 ,the ,bedouin1 his lord1 to aid1 ,not for this peasant wheel of trade ,that ever must be drawn4 ,but on he toils while dahabiyeh ,and dark felucca glide ,below him on the glassy flow ,of the gray river's tide4 ,then when the night has come lies down1 ,in sleep the servile day to drown-- ,like all whom ,life turns with a frown ,from their true fate aside4 ,,navis ,,ignota ,lord1 what ship goes forth to-day8 ,i see her setting ,west4 ,shall she have thy winds aright1 ,stars to guide her with their light1 ,shall she sweep the seas to sight ,of land and harbour-rest8 ,awful is thy ocean-wrath1 ,and none can chart thy shoals ,when storm unassuaging hath ,blotted sun and planet-path4 ,shall she1 ,lord1 escape the scath ,and live1 with all her souls8 ,for it is a beauteous thing ,that ships should sail the sea4 ,splendid is their plunge and swing ,into waves that foam and fling ,maelstroms at their bows to bring ,them down to destiny4 ,and she1 too1 courageous rides ,away into the gloom4 ,now her lights are lost in tides ,of the windy spray that glides ,thro the darkness1 ,lord1 abides ,thy ,dove with her--or ,doom8 ,i shall know perhaps some day1 ,or1 knowing not1 recall ,how my heart was fain to pray ,for a ship that bravely lay ,to her task3 ,o ,lord1 so may ,each vessel of us all6 ,,the ,,cross ,,of ,,the ,,sepulchre ,within the ,holy ,sepulchre1 breast-high1 ,there is a cross uncounted lips have kissed1 ,millions the world to dust has long dismissed1 ,millions that now hope of it but to die4 ,pilgrims1 ,i saw1 from out far fervid lands ,of superstition1 ,north and ,west and ,south1 ,bend to it each a trembling1 reverent mouth1 ,then kneel where ,christ was said to loose ,death's bands4 ,and then ,i wondered if ,he who believed ,in the ,one ,god were wounded sore by this1 ,whether ,he shrinks at each ecstatic kiss1 ,or knowing how humanity is grieved1 ,knows too that it is better to give ,hope ,than ,truth1 if only one is in man's scope4 ,,the ,,nun ,a lone palm leans in the moonlight ,over a convent wall4 ,the sea below is waking and breaking ,with quiet heave and fall4 ,a young nun sits at the window2 ,for ,heaven she is too fair2 ,yet even the ,dove of ,god might nest ,in her bosom beating there4 ,a lone ship sails from the harbour3 ,whom does it bear away8 ,her lover who sin-hearted has parted ,and left her but to pray8 ,she has no lover1 nor ever ,has heard afar love's sigh4 ,only the convent's vesper vow ,has ever dimmed her eye4 ,for naught knows she of her beauty1 ,more than the palm of its peace2 ,and who beyond ,christ's portal to mortal ,desires would bend her knees8 ,the ways of the ,world have flowers1 ,and any who will pluck those2 ,but let there ever be a place ,where none may pluck ,god's rose4 ,,alpine ,,chant ,i'm tramping thro the mountains1 ,they are rising white around me1 ,snow peaks like patriarchs ,that ,winter has enthroned4 ,i'm tramping up the valleys ,where the cataracts sound me ,thunders they have shrilly ,from eternity intoned4 ,i'm tramping thro the mountains1 ,with the clouds for my companions1 ,soft clouds that float and cling ,from crag to cloven crag4 ,i'm passing by the chalets ,that o'erhang the high caons1 ,passing where the shepherds ,and the flocks they pipe to lag4 ,i'm tramping thro the mountains ,where the pines in proud procession ,climb like a hardy host ,to halo-heights of sun4 ,i'm listening for the sallies ,of the avalanche's ,hessian ,hurl of ice and granite ,into gulfs ,avernian4 ,i'm tramping thro the mountains ,and the wind is yodling to me ,yearnings of the glaciers ,to flow to summer lands4 ,i'm treading up the valleys ,with no wanting to undo me-- ,for to-day ,i'm goalless ,and the great ,god understands6 ,,the ,,man ,,of ,,might ,no moment drooped between his thought and action1 ,no morrow died between his dream and deed4 ,within his soul there was no fatal faction ,that could betray him in his hour of need4 ,,in ,,time ,,of ,,awe ,the fierce sea-sunset over the world ,springs like a wounded spirit1 ,the waves all day have hissed and hurled ,their fangs and the spray has swept and swirled1 ,and ships in the gray gale's lair have furled ,their sails--well may they fear it6 ,the night will be but a monstrous seethe ,of terrors elemental4 ,the clouds will wrap in a ghastly wreath ,of gloom the winds that in them breathe1 ,and all that lives in the sea beneath ,by fear shall be made gentle2 ,and sink down1 down to the nether deeps1 ,below the foam and fretting4 ,down where the sullen water sleeps ,alway and the slow sand coldly creeps ,over the lone wreck1 which ,death keeps ,to guard him 'gainst forgetting4 ,and there in the ominous vast calm ,they'll harbour1 like enchanted ,chill shapes he has strangely conjured from ,the silence of his masterdom2 ,there float till again they feel the qualm ,of hunger thro them panted4 ,and then once more far up will they spring1 ,to drift and sport and plunder1 ,shark1 eel and whale and devil-thing1 ,with tooth to rend and tail to sting4 ,to the sea1 ,o ,god1 does horror cling ,and haunting past all wonder4 ,,sunrise ,,in ,,utah ,the dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's sea ,rose suddenly upon my sight at dawn1 ,and terrible in an eternity ,of death took silently the sunrise on4 ,purple funereal from rifted skies ,swept down across their proud sterility1 ,only to die as here all glory dies1 ,on barrenness ,i did not dream could be4 ,o ,god1 for a bird-song6 or opening lips ,of but one flower upon the fatal air1 ,for but the voice of water as it drips1 ,or stir of leaves the day-wind makes aware6 ,o ,god1 for these1 for life6 or from the face ,of the world wipe so irreparable a place6 ,,consolation ,i ,come to me1 shadows1 down the hill1 ,lie softly at my feet4 ,the sun has worked his will ,and the day is done4 ,come to me softly and distil ,your dews and dreams1 that heat ,and hours of heartless glare have overrun4 ,,ii ,come to me1 shadows1 down the hill ,and bring with you the night1 ,fire-flies and the whippoorwill ,and ah1 the moon-- ,whose soft interpretings can still ,the tangled tongues of right ,and wrong1 and hope and fear1 that haunt the noon4 ,,iii ,come to me1 shadows1 down the hill-- ,and let there follow ,sleep1 ,which is ,god's tidal ,will ,that overflows ,the world--obliterating ill1 ,and in its soothing sweep ,murmuring more of mercy than man knows4 ,,waves ,the evening sails come home ,with twilight in their wings4 ,the harbour-light across the gloam ,springs2 ,the wind sings4 ,the waves begin to tell ,the sea's night-sorrow o'er1 ,weaving within their ancient spell ,more ,than earth's lore4 ,the rising moon wafts strange ,low lures across the tide1 ,on which my dim thoughts seem to range1 ,stride ,upon stride1 ,until1 with flooding thrill1 ,they seem at last to blend ,with waves that from the ,eternal ,will ,wend1 ,without end4 ,,vis ,,ultima ,there is no day but leads me to ,a peak impossible to scale1 ,a task at which my hands must fail1 ,a sea ,i cannot swim or sail4 ,there is no night ,i suffer thro ,but ,destiny rules stern and pale3 ,and yet what ,i am meant to do ,i will do1 ere ,death drop his veil4 ,and it shall be no little thing1 ,tho to oblivion it fall1 ,for ,i shall strive to it thro all ,that can imperil or appal4 ,so at each morning's trumpet-ring ,i mount again1 less slave and thrall1 ,and at the barriers gladly fling ,a fortitude that scorns to crawl4 ,,meredith ,what am ,i reading8 ,he is dead8 ,he the great interpreter ,and seer--,england's noblest head8 ,what am ,i reading8 ,it is hushed8 ,the deepest voice that life had found ,to read a century profound ,with all time's seethe and stir8 ,why1 it is but a scanty score ,of days1 since1 at his side1 ,clasping his hand with more than pride1 ,i felt that the immortal tide ,of his great mind would long break o'er ,the cold command of ,death4 ,still in my ear is echoing ,the surf of his strong words1 and still ,against the wild trees on the ,hill ,his cottage sheltered under1 ,i see the toss of his gray locks1 ,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 mad4 ,o ,england1 guard thy living ,like him from a like fate6 ,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 glad1 ,and whom no ,seer makes great4 ,,the ,,end