Now some Wood Nymph bound within thee peeps out Struggling to flow into the light about; And now thou risest like the column last Of an old temple that once stood in h.e.l.las.

Evening or morning, end or a beginning, Something binds thee to skies beyond all sight.

Hosannas from thy boughs and palm leaves flow, Hosannas from thy royal height, as prayer To some unknown G.o.d's charms, who pa.s.ses by Revealing his fair G.o.dhead first to thee.

And lo, the hillsides answer thine hosannas!

Oh, what thy visions, what thy secrets are?

Some tremor, from new heavens wafted, makes The supple flowers and green leaves quiver.

And we? The migrant bird did come to us; The pa.s.sing wind did touch us with its wing; The restless brook did check its rapid course; The child did cast on us his guileless glance; The jonquil proud did greet us with a nod; And the moon did look down to see us here; And all beheld our surface; none our depths!

Thus the world glided over us and vanished!

Sweet orange blossoms, what asked the nightingales?

What would the dry cicala know of noontide?

All things that groan from the great depths of earth, All songs that mount exultant to the stars, The eating moth's faint voice, the restless cricket's, Perfumes and breezes, creatures lone and mated, All things that fly and creep and bend and stoop, Something they know of thee and hide it from us.

Within our b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a soul of storm and pitch Puts into our minds evil thoughts of thee.

The magpie chatters long to the night bat Of thee; the locust boasts she is like thee; The wasp draws ample pleasure in thy shelter; And the night raven finds delight in thee.

A world of evil and of scorn lies wait For thee who mountest tranquil to the stars.

O Health blown from the heart of the pure pine!

Where thy feet tread, fruits grow 'midst thorns and clover; If with the streams thou flowest, the elements Shine; for pure wine, thou reapest the fair cl.u.s.ters; And where thou lingerest, a city rises!

Thy b.r.e.a.s.t.s flow ever with milk; thy lips with dew!

O mother fruitful, strong, and whole, some ill Rots us and we are pale like death's faint tapers!

Boughs, tresses, wings; shadows whose grace divine Frolics and spreads as bough or tress or wing; Another night, you took another form In the enchanted pitiless moonlight, A form that was neither bough, tress, nor wing: Swords you seemed, ready to descend and smite!

Night's roaming b.u.t.terfly, be merciful!

Lift us upon thy wings and fly away!

Illness and wakefulness have tortured us, O palm, and we saw thee bend secretly!

The dragon's heads and dogwoods were awake; We saw thee leading a strange dance with them At night; and in our first sleep, we beheld thee A heavy dream roaming with mulleins and Chameleons; about thee closed whole gardens Of thistles, aloes hard, and hosts of briars!

We dreamed and lo, thou wert demanding tribute Of life, blood-drenched; and in thy being raged A savage hunger; and some beast flesh-eating Nestled in thee and gnawed a hole through thee; And thy winged body turned into a cave; A vulture perched as crown upon thy head; And like fire-flames, and sea-waves, and sword-blades, From root to top, fierce snakes crept up and coiled!

Who ever thought of it? What Fate has ruled That from ill-smelling things and worthless stuff Should rise things of resplendent green? and from Deforming filth, the thrice-pure miracle Of May and April? Hence things blue and black Mingle in us; and in our souls, spread oceans And narrow paths; and while our minds converse With things sublime, something thrice-base defiles us!

O Sun, a.s.sail and strangle all black dreams, Our life's dim vapors and ill-working demons!

But nourish all things good and beautiful Like sunbeams playing and like nightingales!

And thou, O moon, spread over savage Night A veil translucent of heart-felt sympathy!

Wave everywhere, O Beauty's purple robe!

Let the great world be love and love's sweet lyre!

Day comes! Light scatters a thousand eyes on thee So that thou mayest greet the woods and mountains, The nests upon the trees, the palaces Of cities, and the ships on open seas Or ports. At nights, mounted on steeds of light Beautiful Fairies come from high to serve thee; The poplar lifts its many hands to thee; And the dark cypresses lull thee to sleep.

With pelicans and eagles thou conversest, And drop by drop thou drinkest the world's music; Thou seest things far, things near, and things above; Things infinite, intangible, and great; And thou communest with air-sailing ships, Light-rays, and wings, and the world-mounting ladder; While we, bent low, and lashed by sorrow's whip, Listen to the great throbbing of Earth's heart!

We heard it, the great throbbing of Earth's heart, The new song inconceivable, unheard, Of consummate and perfect sound!

Through it, some thunder-stricken angel groans; All April's gardens breathe in fragrant balms; Some unfulfilled and secret longings weep; And a fire crackles that will ruin worlds!

Something that pa.s.ses by, an endless riddle!

Tell thou the sunlit story of the air; We shall unroll to you the tale of blackness.

Come, let us mingle the two elements, Thy mighty power with our own winning grace!

In unseen places, small and cold and sunless, A world of workers and of corsairs dwell; And there are paths and deeds of theirs, and days, And what the infinite air-spheres have not!

A swarm of bees has told us of their life, And a new youth and wise shone unto us!

The gra.s.s hides unsuspected miracles; Beside us, the ant opens a deep path; A lizard, slowly creeping from below, Brought us here news of countries, nations, arts; A b.u.t.terfly on her swift flight to wed The little flowers broadened our world of thought!

Unwedded, fruitless Palm, fair mystery!

Strange was the hour--who will believe it now?-- The divine world willed to become a thought, And thought revealed itself unto our mind!

Now, unto darkness and to riddles new, Our little life is ready to depart!

O Palm, make answer; lo, before thou speakest Thy word sublime, a hand lays wait to smite!

O Palm, a hand did spread to sow us here; That hand will spread again to root us out, And we shall die! The billow and the wind And the still waters will sweep us away Mercilessly! The flowery spring will not Lament us! The wide world will never know We perished! And beneath thy shadow's charms, Another fragrant race will rise to life.

Nor will there be a monument for us That might retain the phantom of our pa.s.sing!

Only about thee will a robe of light Adorn thee with a new and deathless gleam: And it shall be our thought, and word, and rime!

And in the eyes of an astonished world, Thou wilt appear like a gold-green new star; Yet neither thou nor others will know of us!