II.

Yellow as sunset skies and pale As fairy clouds that stay or sail Thro' azure vaults of summer, blue As summer heavens the violets grew; And mosses on which spurts of light Fell laughing, like the lips one might Feign for a Hebe or a girl Whose mouth heat-lightens up with pearl; Limp ferns in murmuring shadows shrunk And silent as if stunned or drunk With moist aromas of the wood; Dry rustlings of the quietude; On silver fronds' thin tresses new Cold limpid blisters of the dew.

Across the rambling fence she leaned: A gingham gown to ankles bare; Her artless beauty, bonnet-screened, Tempestuous with its stormy hair.

A rain-crow gurgled in a vine,-- She heard it not--a step she hears; The wild rose smelt like delicate wine,-- She knew it not--'tis he that nears.

With smiles of greeting all her face Grew musical; with rustic grace He leant beside her, and they had Some parley, with light laughter glad; I know not what; I know but this, Its final period was a kiss.

SONG OF THE SPIRITS OF SPRING.

I.

Wafted o'er purple seas, From gold Hesperides, Mixed with the southern breeze, Hail to us spirits!

Dripping with fragrant rains, Fire of our ardent veins, Life of the barren plains, Woodlands and germs that the woodland inherits.

II.

Wan as the creamy mist, Tinged with pale amethyst, Warm with the sun that kissed Vine-tangled mountains Looming o'er tropic lakes, Where ev'ry air that shakes Tamarisk coverts makes Music that haunts like the falling of fountains.

III.

Swift are our flashing feet, Fleet with the winds that meet, Winds that, blown, billow sweet, And with light porous, Boom with the drunken bees, Sigh with the surge of seas, Rush with the rush of trees, Birds and wild wings and of torrents sonorous.

IV.

Stars in our liquid eyes, Stars of the darkest skies, And on our fingers lies Starlight; and shadows, Unmooned, of nights that creep Hide in our tresses deep, And in our limbs white sleep Dreams like a baby in asphodel meadows.

V.

Music of many streams, Strength of a million beams, Fire and sainted dreams, Murmuring lowly, Pulse on hot lips of light, Which, what they kiss of blight, Quicken and blossom white, Raise to be beautiful, perfect, and holy.

VI.

Oh, will you sit and wait, When fields, erst desolate, Now are intoxicate With life that flowers?

Purple with love and rife With their fierce budded life, Pa.s.sion and rosy strife Drained from warm winds and the turbulent showers?

VII.

Nay! at our feet you'll lie: For the winds lullaby, For our completest sky, And largess flying Of pinky pearls of blooms, For the one bee that booms, And the warm-spilled perfumes Forget for a moment already we're dying!

THE SPIRITS OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS.

[VOICES SINGING.]

FIRST CHORUS.

Ere the birth of Death and of Time, Ere the birth of h.e.l.l and its torments, Ere the orbs of heat and of rime And the winds to the heavens were as garments, Worm-like in the womb of s.p.a.ce, Worm-like from her monster womb, We sprung, a myriad race Of thunder and tempest and gloom.

SECOND CHORUS.

As from the evil good Springs like a fire, As bland beat.i.tude Wells from the dire, So was the Chaos brood Of us the sire.

FIRST CHORUS.

We had lain for gaunt ages asleep 'Neath her breast in a bulk of torpor, When down through the vasts of the deep Clove a sound like the notes of a harper; Clove a sound, and the horrors grew Tumultuous with turbulent night, With whirlwinds of blackness that blew, And storm that was G.o.dly in might.

And the walls of our prison were shattered Like the crust of a fire-wrecked world; Like torrents of clouds that are scattered On the face of the Night we are hurled.

SECOND CHORUS.

Us, in unholy thought Patiently lying, Eons of violence wrought, Violence defying.

When on a mighty wind,-- Born of a G.o.dly mind Large with a motive kind,-- Girdled with wonder, Flame and a strength of song Rushed in a voice along, Burst and, lo! we were strong-- Strong as the thunder.

FIRST CHORUS.

We lurk in the upper s.p.a.ces, Where the oceans of tempest are born, Where the scowls of our shadowy faces Are safe from the splendors of morn.

Our homes are wrecked worlds and each planet Whose sun is a light that is sped; Bleak moons whose cold bodies of granite Are hollow and flameless and dead.

SECOND CHORUS.

We in the living sun Live like a pa.s.sion; Ere all his stars begun We and the sun were one, As G.o.d did fashion.

Lo! from our burning hands, Flung like inspired brands, Hurled we the stars, like sands Whirled in the ocean; And all our breath was life, Life to those worlds and rife With ever-moving strife, Pa.s.sion for motion.

FIRST CHORUS.

Our beds are the tombs of the mortals; We feed on their crimes and the thought That falters and halts at the portals Of actions, intentions unwrought.

We cover the face of to-morrow; We frown in the hours that be; We breathe in the presence of sorrow, And death and destruction are we.

SECOND CHORUS.