Her light streamed through the years, I saw her clear and still, Shape and spirit together mingling night with day.

Water falling, falling with the curve of time Over green-hued rock, then plunging to its pool Far, far below, a falling spear of light; Water falling golden from the sun but moonlike cool:

Water has the curve of her shoulder and breast, Water falls as straight as her body rose, Water her brightness has from neck to still feet, Water crystal-cold as her cold body flows.

But not water has the colour I saw when I dreamed, Nor water such strength has. I joyed to behold How the blood lit her body with lamps of fire And made the flesh glow that like water gleamed cold,

A flame in her arms and in each finger flame, And flame in her bosom, flame above, below, The curve of climbing flame in her waist and her thighs; From foot to head did flame into red flame flow.

I knew how beauty seen from unseen must rise, How the body's joy for more than body's use was made.

I knew then how the body is the body of the mind, And how the mind's own fire beneath the cool skin played.

O shape that once to have seen is to see evermore, Falling stream that falls to the deeps of the mind, Fire that once lit burns while aught burns in the world, Foot to head a flame moving in the spirit's wind!

If these eyes could see what these eyes have not seen-- The inward vision clear--how should I look, for joy, Knowing that beauty's self rose visible in the world Over age that darkens, and griefs that destroy?

TEN O'CLOCK NO MORE [1]

The wind has thrown The boldest of trees down.

Now disgraced it lies, Naked in spring beneath the drifting skies, Naked and still.

It was the wind So furious and blind That scourged half England through, Ruining the fairest where most fair it grew By dell and hill,

And springing here, The black clouds dragging near, Against this lonely elm Thrust all his strength to maim and overwhelm In one wild shock.

As in the deep Satisfaction of dark sleep The tree her dream dreamed on, And woke to feel the wind's arms round her thrown And her head rock.

And the wind raught Her ageing boughs and caught Her body fast again.

Then in one agony of age, grief, pain, She fell and died.

Her n.o.ble height, Branches that loved the light, Her music and cool shade, Her memories and all of her is dead On the hill side.

But the wind stooped, With madness tired, and drooped In the soft valley and slept, While morning strangely round the hush'd tree crept And called in vain.

The birds fed where The roots uptorn and bare Thrust shameful at the sky; And pewits round the tree would dip and cry With the old pain.

'Ten o'clock's gone!'

Said sadly every one.

And mothers looking thought Of sons and husbands far away that fought:-- And looked again.

[Footnote 1: "Ten o'clock" is the name of a tall tree that crowned the eastern Cotswolds.]

THE FUGITIVE

In the hush of early even The clouds came flocking over, Till the last wind fell from heaven And no bird cried.

Darkly the clouds were flocking, Shadows moved and deepened, Then paused; the poplar's rocking Ceased; the light hung still

Like a painted thing, and deadly.

Then from the cloud's side flickered Sharp lightning, thrusting madly At the cowering fields.

Thrice the fierce cloud lighten'd, Down the hill slow thunder trembled Day in her cave grew frightened, Crept away, and died.

THE ALDE

How near I walked to Love, How long, I cannot tell.

I was like the Alde that flows Quietly through green level lands, So quietly, it knows Their shape, their greenness and their shadows well; And then undreamingly for miles it goes And silently, beside the sea.

Seamews circle over, The winter wildfowl wings, Long and green the gra.s.ses wave Between the river and the sea.

The sea's cry, wild or grave, From bank to low bank of the river rings; But the uncertain river though it crave The sea, knows not the sea.

Was that indeed salt wind?

Came that noise from falling Wild waters on a stony sh.o.r.e?

Oh, what is this new troubling tide Of eager waves that pour Around and over, leaping, parting, recalling?...

How near I moved (as day to same day wore) And silently, beside the sea!

NEARNESS

Thy hand my hand, Thine eyes my eyes, All of thee Caught and confused with me: My hand thy hand, My eyes thine eyes, All of me Sunken and discovered anew in thee....

No: still A foreign mind, A thought By other yet uncaught; A secret will Strange as the wind: The heart of thee Bewildering with strange fire the heart in me.

Hand touches hand, Eye to eye beckons, But who shall guess Another's loneliness?

Though hand grasp hand, Though the eye quickens, Still lone as night Remain thy spirit and mine, past touch and sight.

NIGHT AND NIGHT

The earth is purple in the evening light, The gra.s.s is graver green.

The gold among the meadows darker glows, In the quieted air the blackbird sings more loud.

The sky has lost its rose-- Nothing more than this candle now shines bright.

Were there but natural night, how easy were The putting-by of sense At the day's end, and if no heavier air Came o'er the mind in a thick-falling cloud.

But now there is no light Within; and to this innocent night how dark my night!