AT THE END OF THE WORLD

In the lodge of the Mother of Men, In the land of Desire, Are the embers of fire, Are the ashes of those who return.

Who return to the world; Who flame at the breath Of the Mockers of Death.

O Sweet, we will voyage again To the camp of Love's fire, Nevermore to return!

O love, by the light of thine eyes We will fare over-sea; We will be As the silver-winged herons that rest By the shallows, The shallows of sapphire stone; No more shall we wander alone.

As the foam to the sh.o.r.e Is my spirit to thine, And G.o.d's serfs as they fly,-- The Mockers of Death-- They will breathe on the embers of fire We shall live by that breath.

Sweet, thy heart to my heart, As we journey afar, No more, nevermore, to return!

WAYFARERS

War does the fire no longer burn?

(I am so lonely) Why does the tent-door swing outward?

(I have no home) Oh, let me breathe hard in your face!

(I am so lonely) Oh, why do you shut your eyes to me?

(I have no home)

Let us make friends with the stars; (I am so lonely) Give me your hand, I will hold it; (I have no home) Let us go hunting together: (I am so lonely) We will sleep at G.o.d's camp to-night.

(I have no home)

THE RED PATROL

He stands in the porch of the World-- (Why should the door be shut?) The grey wolf waits at his heel, (Why is the window barred?) Wild is the trail from the Kimash Hills, The blight has fallen on bush and tree, The choking earth has swallowed the streams, Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol-- (Why should the door be shut?) The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide-- (Why is the window barred?)

He waits at the threshold stone-- (Why should the key-hole rust?) The eagle broods at his side, (Why should the blind be drawn?) Long has he watched and far has he called-- The lonely sentinel of the North-- "Who goes there?" to the wandering soul Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol-- (Why should the key-hole rust?) The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home, (Why should the blind be drawn?)

Heavy of heart is the Red Patrol-- (Why should the key-hole rust?) The Scarlet Hunter is sick for home, (Why should the blind be drawn?) Hungry and cold is the Red Patrol-- (Why should the door be shut?) The Scarlet Hunter has come to bide, (Why is the window barred?)

THE YELLOW SWAN

In the flash of the singing dawn, At the door of the Great One, The joy of his lodge knelt down, Knelt down, and her hair in the sun Shone like showering dust, And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn.

And she cried to her lord, "O my lord, O my life, From the desert I come; From the hills of the Dawn."

And he lifted the curtain and said, "Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?"

And she lifted her head, and her eyes Were as lights in the dark, And her hands folded slow on her breast, And her face was as one who has seen The G.o.ds and the place where they dwell; And she said, "Is it meet that I kneel, That I kneel as I speak to my lord?"

And he answered her, "Nay, but to stand, And to sit by my side; But speak: thou has followed the trail, Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?"

And she stood as a queen, and her voice Was as one who hath seen the Hills, The Hills of the Mighty Men, And hath heard them cry in the night, Hath heard them call in the dawn, Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan.

And she said, "It is not for my lord"; And she murmured, "I cannot tell; But my lord must go as I went, And my lord must come as I came, And my lord shall be wise."

And he cried in his wrath, "What is thine, it is mine, And thine eyes are my eyes, Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan."

But she answered him, "Nay, though I die.

I have lain in the nest of the Swan, I have heard, I have known; When thine eyes too have seen, When thine ears too have heard, Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt."

And he lifted his hand to strike, And he straightened his spear to slay; But a great light struck on his eyes, And he heard the rushing of wings, And his long spear fell from his hand, And a terrible stillness came: And when the spell pa.s.sed from his eyes He stood in his doorway alone, And gone was the queen of his soul And gone was the Yellow Swan.

THE HEART OF THE PIONEER

My dear love, she waits for me, None other my world is adorning; My true love I come to thee, My dear, the white star of the morning.

Eagles, spread out your wings,-- Behold where the red dawn is breaking!

Hark, 'tis my darling sings, The flowers, the song-birds, awaking-- See, where she comes to me, My love, ah, my dear love!

THE NORTH TRAIL

"Oh, where did you get them, the bonny, bonny roses That blossom in your cheeks, and the morning in your eyes?"

"I got them on the North Trail, the road that never closes, That widens to the seven gold gates of Paradise."

"O come, let us camp in the North Trail together, With the night-fires lit and the tent-pegs down."

ALONE

O, O, the winter wind, the North wind-- My snow-bird, where art thou gone?

O, O the wailing wind, the night wind-- The cold nest; I am alone.

O, O my snow-bird!