Star over Bethlehem (12 page)

Can you hear the Wheel a-whirring?

And the menace of its purring?

See the colour of a rainbow as it gleams?

Can you see the shining mesh

That is spun for human flesh?

Can you hear them?

Do you fear them?

Will you dare to wander near them?

The silent white-robed Spinners

As they spin the Web of Dreams …

The conqueror from the battle by their gleam is led astray,

Where the fragile threads enfold him—there his armour rusts away …

The boy who goes a-ploughing at the dusky hour of eve

Sees a Vision grey and golden—and his furrow he must leave.

And the maiden in the village, who has knelt beside the lake,

And has seen a Dream-face pictured—goes unwedded for his sake …

Oh! if your eyes shall see them,

You had better turn and flee them,

For no power born of earth shall hold you then.

And you'll let the world go by,

Seeking Beauty till you die!

If you hear them,

Oh! beware them!

And never venture near them!

The silent white-robed Spinners

As they spin the Thread of Dreams …

There are Threads of Red and Golden! There are Threads of Grey and Green!

There are Threads of White and Silver. And they merge in dazzling sheen!

There's a Web of wondrous weaving that is Rose and Amethyst,

And a Purple Strand of Mystery that fades into the mist …

And oh! there's love and longing! There's a heart to laugh and grieve,

There's Wonder … and there's Pity—where the white-robed Spinners weave …

Oh! who shall find the Spinners?

The silent white-robed Spinners?

The tender cruel Spinners

As they spin the Web of Dreams …

 

B
ARE
brown branches against a blue sky

(
And Silence within the wood
),

Leaves that, listless, lie under your feet,

Bold brown boles that are biding their time

(
And Silence within the wood
).

Spring has been fair in the fashion of youth,

Summer with languorous largesse of love,

Autumn with passion that passes to pain,

Leaf, flower, and flame—they have fallen and failed

And Beauty—bare Beauty is left in the wood!

Bare brown branches against a mad moon

(
And Something that stirs in the wood
),

Leaves that rustle and rise from the dead,

Branches that beckon and leer in the light

(
And Something that walks in the wood
).

Skirling and whirling, the leaves are alive!

Driven by Death in a devilish dance!

Shrieking and swaying of terrified trees!

A wind that goes sobbing and shivering by …

And Fear—naked Fear passes out of the wood!

 

The Road of Dreams leads up the Hill

So straight and white

And bordered wide

With almond trees on either side

In rosy flush of Spring's delight!

Against the frown

Of branches brown

The blossoms laugh and gleam,

Within my dream …

There is no Joy like Joy in Dreams …

Up—up the Hill

My flying feet

Go magically winged and fleet

And like a bird that flies at will!

So shall I find

What God designed

There—where the Open Country lies

Before my eyes …

There is no Fear like Fear in Dreams …

Which, swift as Death

Pursuing fast,

Gains on me, till I feel at last

Upon my neck its icy breath …

The Dream is dead!

The Joy is fled!

The Road of Dreams

Leads up the Hill and faintly gleams …

Oh! Dream most fond,

What lies beyond?

Beyond the Hill …

 

T
HE
South Wind comes a-whispering, a-whispering from the Sea,

And tells of waters cool and clear,

Of far off strands

With golden sands

And Halcyon days to be.

And oh! there's life a-stirring at the very heart of me

That listens to the South Wind, to the South Wind from the Sea.

The Forest come a-murmuring, a-murmuring all around,

And speaks of magic dark and sweet,

Of charms untold,

Enchantments old,

Of nymphs with hair unbound …

And oh! the life a-stirring, it quivers at the sound,

It quivers at the murmur of the Forest all around.

There's a Voice that comes a-calling, a-calling from the Lea:

“Who walks with Me in wind and storm,

He knows no rest

But only zest

God's great wide world to see!”

And oh! the life that's stirring, it struggles to be free

As it hears the Voice a-calling, a-calling from the Lea!

 

I
N
the dark woods I shall find peace!

There shall I learn at last

Forgetfulness!

Or, if that may not be,

I will remember what is past

Most joyfully!

On the high hills where once I went,

I shall not come again

Triumphantly!

But it remains for me

To laugh into the face of pain

Defiantly!

By the deep seas I dwelt content,

There, by your side,

In harmony …

Now there is left for me

Naught but to face the incoming tide

Courageously!

In the dark grave there lies release,

There shall I sleep anew

Nor wake again …

And if that shall not be,

I will remember only you,

And live as you would have me do

Most valiantly!

 

I
KNOW
a city where black lions dwell

And guard a fountain in a giant square.

The City rises round it, white and proud.

The streets are broad and wide—and you and I

Walk there together, gladly, side by side;

We go in silence—speak no word, but each

The other's thought has understood and heard …

Our feet seem not to touch the ground, so swift

And fleet we speed together on our way.

Between us there is understanding. Ay!

And all around is Beauty—also Peace …

It is a dream …
But oh! when Life shall cease,

And many thousand years have passed away,

We may be born again, perchance, and dwell

In that great city built by mightier men

Who toiling through long centuries, have learnt

To banish Pain … It may be so—who knows …?

It may be you and I shall live again …

 

A
WHIRLING
of dead leaves,

A gathering in of sheaves,

The stripping of the trees,

The ebbing of the seas,

The shifting of the sands,

A vision of far lands …

A sundering and a thundering

Of prison bars that fall!

The answer to a call

New destiny to shape …

A silence … and a breath …

We call it—Death!

Nor dare to say—Escape!

Other Poems

 

A C
HILD
has passed through the woods today,

Hush! You shall find him there at play!

See—snowdrops scattered in the glade,

And nestling close in childlike grace,

The crocus lifts his chubby face,

Serene and unafraid!

And out on the downs

In their straight green gowns

The daffodils wait … Whilst hidden quite

The shy blue violets in delight

Peer forth to tempt his careless hand …

And the Child who passes by today goes laughing through the land!

A Child has passed through the city street,

Follow the track of his little feet
…

Golden-hued baskets on the curb,

A lifted head and a brightened eye

As the busy worker passes by

And the flowers his thoughts disturb …

A sudden stir

In the wintry air!

A tired heart that knows a gleam

Of strange sweet joy … A transient dream

Of all the things that might have been …

And a Child who passes through the street—who passes all unseen …

Stay, Child! What is thy name?

Whence art thou come? Who gave thee birth?

My Mother, the Earth

Bore me in joy!

She, the All Wise

Fashioned my limbs

In this fair guise

Without alloy.

Who is thy Father?

The Breath of a Flame!

In the Future is written the Might of his Name
…

Offspring am I of the Seen and Unseen,

Of that which shall come, and of that which hath been!

Wisdom of Ages—and Promise of Dawn,

Calling to life all the life yet unborn,

Lo! in the CHILD is the Hope of the Earth!

So shall I pass—bringing Spring and Rebirth!

 

N
IGHT
gave me birth, and to my fashioning went

Fear and Unrest, Hate that will not relent,

Pain, and a Joy too keen to face the light,

Passion, Desire, and Mystery of Night …

A wreath of stars is set upon my brow,

And, twining round my feet, pale lilies grow,

My body has the beauty of the Moon,

Its slender whiteness girt with holy rune.

My heart is full of doubts that softly wake,

Longings not understood—the strange sweet ache

Of unfulfilled desire … Dreamful of Fate,

Veiled in my nightblack hair, I stand and wait!

This is my hour!

Eternity itself halts on its ceaseless round,

And all the world halts with it for a little spell,

And in the quivering stillness comes the sound

Of all the secret music that I love so well:

The sighs of lovers, and the haunting cry

Of tawny beasts, and the awakening call

Of drowsy baby birds in nests so high …

My outspread arms rule over all!

This is my hour!

The stars around my head have paled away,

The lily buds are opening gold and gay,

From out the slumbering hills there cometh One

Most glorious without—within—the Sun!

About my limbs the purple mists unfold,

Upon my head—a Crown of Blood and Gold!