@3In a land so far that you wonder whether If God would know it should you fall down dead; In a land so far through the soft, warm weather That the sun sinks red as a warrior sped, -- Where the sea and the sky seem closing together, Seem closing together as a book that is read; 'Tis the half-finished world! Yon footfall retreating, -- It might be the Maker disturbed at his task. But the footfall of God, or the far pheasant beating, It is one and the same, whatever the mask It may wear unto man. The woods keep repeating The old sacred sermons, whatever you ask. It is man in his garden, scarce wakened as yet From the sleep that fell on him when woman was made. The new-finished garden is plastic and wet From the hand that has fashioned its unpeopled shade; And the wonder still looks from the fair woman's eyes As she shines through the wood like the light from the skies. And a ship now and then for this far Ophir yore Draws in from the sea. It lies close to the bank; Then a dull, muffled sound on the slow shuffled plank As they load the black ship; but you hear nothing more, And the dark, dewy vines, and the tall, somber wood Like twilight drop over the deep, sweeping flood. The black masts are tangled with branches that cross, The rich fragrant gums fall from branches to deck, The thin ropes are swinging with streamers of moss That mantle all things like the shreds of a wreck; The long mosses swing, there is never a breath: The river rolls still as the river of death.@1 I In the beginning, -- ay, before The six-days' labors were well o'er; Yea, while the world lay incomplete, Ere God had opened quite the door Of this strange land for strong men's feet, -- There lay against that westmost sea, A weird, wild land of mystery. A far white wall, like fallen moon, Girt out the world. The forest lay So deep you scarcely saw the day, Save in the high-held middle noon: It lay a land of sleep and dreams, And clouds drew through like shoreless streams That stretch to where no man may say. Men reached it only from the sea, By black-built ships, that seemed to creep Along the shore suspiciously, Like unnamed monsters of the deep. It was the weirdest land, I ween, That mortal eye has ever seen. A dim, dark land of bird and beast, Black shaggy beasts with cloven claw, -- A land that scarce knew prayer or priest, Or law of man, or Nature's law; Where no fixed line drew sharp dispute 'Twixt savage man and sullen brute. II It hath a history most fit For cunning hand to fashion on; No chronicler hath mentioned it; No buccaneer set foot upon. 'Tis of an outlawed Spanish Don, -- A cruel man, with pirate's gold That loaded down his deep ship's hold. A deep ship's hold of plundered gold! The golden cruse, the golden cross, From many a church of Mexico, From Panama's mad overthrow, From many a ransomed city's loss, From many a follower fierce and bold, And many a foeman stark and cold. He found this wild, lost land. He drew His ship to shore. His ruthless crew, Like Romulus, laid lawless hand On meek brown maidens of the land, And in their bloody forays bore Red firebrands along the shore. III The red men rose at night. They came, A firm, unflinching wall of flame; They swept, as sweeps some fateful sea O'er land of sand and level shore That howls in far, fierce agony. The red men swept that deep, dark shore As threshers sweep a threshing floor. And yet beside the slain Don's door They left his daughter, as they fled: They spared her life because she bore Their Chieftain's blood and name. The red And blood-stained hidden hoards of gold They hollowed from the stout ship's hold, And bore in many a slim canoe -- To where? The good priest only knew. IV The course of life is like the sea; Men come and go; tides rise and fall; And that is all of history. The tide flows in, flows out today -- And that is all that man may say; Man is, man was, -- and that is all. Revenge at last came like a tide, -- 'Twas sweeping, deep and terrible; The Christian found the land, and came To take possession in Christ's name. For every white man that had died I think a thousand red men fell, -- A Christian custom; and the land Lay lifeless as some burned-out brand. V Ere while the slain Don's daughter grew A glorious thing, a flower of spring, A something more than mortals knew; A mystery of grace and face, -- A silent mystery that stood An empress in that sea-set wood, Supreme, imperial in her place. It might have been men's lust for gold, -- For all men knew that lawless crew Left hoards of gold in that ship's hold, That drew ships hence, and silent drew Strange Jasons there to love or dare; I never knew, nor need I care. I say it might have been this gold That ever drew and strangely drew Strong men of land, strange men of sea To seek this shore of mystery With all its wondrous tales untold; The gold or her, which of the two? It matters not to me, nor you. But this I know, that as for me, Between that face and the hard fate That kept me ever from my own, As some wronged monarch from his throne, All heaped-up gold of land or sea Had never weighed one feather's weight. Her home was on the wooded height, -- A woody home, a priest at prayer, A perfume in the fervid air, And angels watching her at night. I can but think upon the skies That bound that other Paradise. VI Below a star-built arch, as grand As ever bended heaven spanned, Tall trees like mighty columns grew -- They loomed as if to pierce the blue, They reached, as reaching heaven through. The shadowed stream rolled far below, Where men moved noiseless to and fro As in some vast cathedral, when The calm of prayer comes to men, And benedictions bless them so. What wooded sea-banks, wild and steep! What trackless wood! what snowy cone That lifted from this wood alone! What wild, wide river, dark and deep! What ships against the shore asleep! VII An Indian woman cautious crept About the land the while it slept, The relic of her perished race. She wore rich, rudely-fashioned bands Of gold above her bony hands; She hissed hot curses on the place! VIII Go seek the red man's last retreat! What lonesome lands! what haunted lands! Red mouths of beasts, red men's red hands; Red prophet-priests, in mute defeat. From Incan temples overthrown To lorn Alaska's isles of bone The red man lives and dies alone. His boundaries in blood are writ! His land is ghostland! That is his, Whatever we may claim of this; Beware how you shall enter it! He stands God's guardian of ghostlands; Yea, this same wrapped half-prophet stands All nude and voiceless, nearer to The dread, lone God than I or you. IX This bronzed child, by that river's brink, Stood fair to see as you can think, As tall as tall reeds at her feet, As fresh as flowers in her hair; As sweet as flowers over-sweet, As fair as vision more than fair! How beautiful she was! How wild! How pure as water-plant, this child, -- This one wild child of Nature here Grown tall in shadows. And how near To God, where no man stood between Her eyes and scenes no man hath seen, -- This maiden that so mutely stood, The one lone woman of that wood. Stop still, my friend, and do not stir, Shut close your page and think of her. The birds sang sweeter for her face; Her lifted eyes were like a grace To seamen of that solitude, However rough, however rude. The rippled river of her hair, Flowed in such wondrous waves, somehow Flowed down divided by her brow, -- It mantled her within its care, And flooded all her form below, In its uncommon fold and flow. A perfume and an incense lay Before her, as an incense sweet Before blithe mowers of sweet May In early morn. Her certain feet Embarked on no uncertain way. Come, think how perfect before men, How sweet as sweet magnolia bloom Embalmed in dews of morning, when Rich sunlight leaps from midnight gloom Resolved to kiss, and swift to kiss Ere yet morn wakens man to bliss. X The days swept on. Her perfect year Was with her now. The sweet perfume Of womanhood in holy bloom, As when red harvest blooms appear, Possessed her soul. The priest did pray That saints alone should pass that way. A red bird built beneath her roof, Brown squirrels crossed her cabin sill, And welcome came or went at will. A hermit spider wove his web Above her door and plied his trade, With none to fright or make afraid. The silly elk, the spotted fawn, And all dumb beasts that came to drink, That stealthy stole upon the brink By coming night or going dawn, On seeing her familiar face Would fearless stop and stand in place. She was so kind, the beasts of night Gave her the road as if her right; The panther crouching overhead In sheen of moss would hear her tread, And bend his eyes, but never stir Lest he by chance might frighten her. Yet in her splendid strength, her eyes, There lay the lightning of the skies; The love-hate of the lioness, To kill the instant or caress: A pent-up soul that sometimes grew Impatient; why, she hardly knew. At last she sighed, uprose, and threw Her strong arms out as if to hand Her love, sun-born and all complete At birth, to some brave lover's feet On some far, fair, and unseen land, As knowing not quite what to do! XI How beautiful she was! Why, she Was inspiration! She was born To walk God's sunlit hills at morn, Nor waste her by this wood-dark sea. What wonder, then, her soul's white wings Beat at its bars, like living things! Once more she sighed! She wandered through The sea-bound wood, then stopped and drew Her hand above her face, and swept The lonesome sea, and all day kept Her face to sea, as if she knew Some day, some near or distant day, Her destiny should come that way. XII How proud she was! How darkly fair! How full of faith, of love, of strength! Her calm, proud eyes! Her great hair's length, -- Her long, strong, tumbled, careless hair, Half curled and knotted anywhere, -- By brow or breast, or cheek or chin, For love to trip and tangle in! XIII At last a tall strange sail was seen: It came so slow, so wearily, Came creeping cautious up the sea, As if it crept from out between The half-closed sea and sky that lay Tight wedged together, far away. She watched it, wooed it. She did pray It might not pass her by but bring Some love, some hate, some anything, To break the awful loneliness That like a nightly nightmare lay Upon her proud and pent-up soul Until it barely brooked control. XIV The ship crept silent up the sea, And came -- You cannot understand How fair she was, how sudden she Had sprung, full grown, to womanhood. How gracious, yet how proud and grand; How glorified, yet fresh and free, How human, yet how more than good. XV The ship stole slowly, slowly on, -- Should you in Californian field In ample flower-time behold The soft south rose lift like a shield; Against the sudden sun at dawn A double handful of heaped gold, Why you, perhaps, might understand How splendid and how queenly she Uprose beside that wood-set sea. The storm-worn ship scarce seemed to creep From wave to wave. It scarce could keep -- How still this fair girl stood, how fair! How tall her presence as she stood Between that vast sea and west wood! How large and liberal her soul, How confident, how purely chare, How trusting; how untried the whole Great heart, grand faith, that blossomed there. XVI Ay, she was as Madonna to The tawny, lawless, faithful few Who touched her hand and knew her soul: She drew them, drew them as the pole Points all things to itself. She drew Men upward as a moon of spring High wheeling, vast and bosom-full, Half clad in clouds and white as wool, Draws all the strong seas following. Yet still she moved as sad, as lone As that same moon that leans above, And seems to search high heaven through For some strong, all sufficient love, For one brave love to be her own, Be all her own and ever true. Oh, I once knew a sad, sweet dove That died for such sufficient love, Such high, white love with wings to soar, That looks love level in the face, Nor wearies love with leaning o'er To lift love level to her place. XVII How slow before the sleeping breeze, That stranger ship from under seas! How like to Dido by her sea, When reaching arms imploringly, -- Her large, round, rich, impassioned arms, Tossed forth from all her storied charms -- This one lone maiden leaning stood Above that sea, beneath that wood! The ship crept strangely up the seas; Her shrouds seemed shreds, her masts seemed trees, -- Strange tattered trees of toughest bough That knew no cease of storm till now. The maiden pitied her; she prayed Her crew might come, nor feel afraid; She prayed the winds might come, -- they came, As birds that answer to a name. The maiden held her blowing hair That bound her beauteous self about; The sea-winds housed within her hair; She let it go, it blew in rout About her bosom full and bare. Her round, full arms were free as air, Her high hands clasped as clasped in prayer. XVIII The breeze grew bold, the battered ship Began to flap her weary wings; The tall, torn masts began to dip And walk the wave like living things. She rounded in, moved up the stream, She moved like some majestic dream. The captain kept her deck. He stood A Hercules among his men; And now he watched the sea, and then He peered as if to pierce the wood. He now looked back, as if pursued, Now swept the sea with glass as though He fled, or feared some prowling foe. Slow sailing up the river's mouth, Slow tacking north, slow tacking south, He touched the overhanging wood; He kept his deck, his tall black mast Touched tree-top mosses as he passed; He touched the steep shore where she stood. XIX Her hands still clasped as if in prayer, Sweet prayer set to silentness; Her sun-browned throat uplifted, bare And beautiful. Her eager face Illumed with love and tenderness, And all her presence gave such grace, That she seemed more than mortal, fair. XX He saw. He could not speak. No more With lifted glass he swept the sea; No more he watched the wild new shore. Now foes might come, now friends might flee; He could not speak, he would not stir, -- He saw but her, he feared but her. The black ship ground against the shore With creak and groan and rusty clank, And tore the mellow blossomed bank; She ground against the bank as one With long and weary journeys done, That will not rise to jonrney more. Yet still tall Jason silent stood And gazed against that sea-washed wood, As one whose soul is anywhere. All seemed so fair, so wondrous fair! At last aroused, he stepped to land Like some Columbus; then laid hand On lands and fruits, and rested there. XXI He found all fairer than fair morn In sylvan land, where waters run With downward leap against the sun, And full-grown sudden May is born. He found her taller than tall corn Tiptoe in tassel; found her sweet As vale where bees of Hybla meet. An unblown rose, an unread book; A wonder in her wondrous eyes; A large, religious, steadfast look Of faith, of trust, -- the look of one New fashioned in fair Paradise. He read this book -- read on and on From title page to colophon: As in cool woods, some summer day, You find delight in some sweet lay, And so entranced read on and on From title page to colophon. XXII And who was he that rested there, -- This giant of a grander day, This Theseus of a nobler Greece, This Jason of the golden fleece? Aye, who was he? And who were they That came to seek the hidden gold Long hollowed from the pirate's hold? I do not know. You need not care. They loved, this maiden and this man, And that is all I surely know, -- The rest is as the winds that blow, He bowed as brave men bow to fate, Yet proud and resolute and bold; She shy at first, and coyly cold, Held back and tried to hesitate, -- Half frightened at this love that ran Hard gallop till her hot heart beat Like sounding of swift courser's feet. XXIII Two strong streams of a land must run Together surely as the sun Succeeds the moon. Who shall gainsay The gods that reign, that wisely reign? Love is, love was, shall be again. Like death, inevitable it is; Perchance, like death, the dawn of bliss. Let us, then, love the perfect day, The twelve o'clock of life, and stop The two hands pointing to the top, And hold them tightly while we may. XXIV How beautiful is love! The walks By wooded ways; the silent talks Beneath the broad and fragrant bough. The dark deep wood, the dense black dell, Where scarce a single gold beam fell From out the sun. They rested now On mossy trunk. They wandered then Where never fell the feet of men. Then longer walks, then deeper woods, Then sweeter talks, sufficient sweet, In denser, deeper solitudes, -- Dear careless ways for careless feet; Sweet talks of paradise for two, And only two to watch or woo. She rarely spake. All seemed a dream She would not waken from. She lay All night but waiting for the day, When she might see his face, and deem This man, with all his perils passed, Had found sweet Lotus-land at last. XXV The year waxed fervid, and the sun Fell central down. The forest lay A-quiver in the heat. The sea Below the steep bank seemed to run A molten sea of gold. Away Against the gray and rock-built isles That broke the molten watery miles Where lonesome sea-cows called all day, The sudden sun smote angrily. Therefore the need of deeper deeps, Of denser shade for man and maid, Of higher heights, of cooler steeps, Where all day long the sea-wind stayed. They sought the rock-reared steep. The breeze Swept twenty thousand miles of seas; Had twenty thousand things to say, Of love, of lovers of Cathay, To lovers 'mid these mossy trees. XXVI To left, to right, below the height, Below the wood by wave and stream, Plumed pampas grass did wave and gleam And bend their lordly plumes, and run And shake, as if in very fright Before sharp lances of the sun. They saw the tide-bound, battered ship Creep close below against the bank; They saw it cringe and shrink; it shrank As shrinks some huge black beast with fear, When some uncommon dread is near. They heard the melting resin drip, As drip the last brave blood-drops when Red battle waxes hot with men. XXVII Yet what to her were burning seas, Or what to him was forest flame? They loved; they loved the glorious trees; The gleaming tides might rise or fall, -- They loved the whispering winds that came From sea-lost spice-set isles unknown, With breath not warmer than their own; They loved, they loved, -- and that was all. XXVIII Full noon! Above, the ancient moss From mighty boughs swang slow across, As when some priest slow chants a prayer And swings sweet smoke and perfumed air From censer swinging -- anywhere. He spake of love, of boundless love, -- Of love that knew no other land, Or face, or place, or anything; Of love that like the wearied dove Could light nowhere, but kept the wing Till she alone put forth her hand And so received it in her ark From seas that shake against the dark! Her proud breast heaved, her pure, bare breast Rose like the waves in their unrest When counter storms possess the seas. Her mouth, her arch, uplifted mouth, Her ardent mouth that thirsted so, -- No glowing love song of the South Can say; no man can say or know Such truth as lies beneath such trees. Her face still lifted up. And she Disdained the cup of passion he Hard pressed her panting lips to touch. She dashed it by, uprose, and she Caught fast her breath. She trembled much, Then sudden rose full height, and stood An empress in high womanhood: She stood a tower, tall as when Proud Roman mothers suckled men Of old-time truth and taught them such. XXIX Her soul surged vast as space is. She Was trembling as a courser when His thin flank quivers, and his feet Touch velvet on the turf, and he Is all afoam, alert and fleet As sunlight glancing on the sea, And full of triumph before men. At last she bended some her face, Half leaned, then put him back a pace, And met his eyes. Calm, silently Her eyes looked deep into his eyes, -- As maidens search some mossy well And peer in hope by chance to tell By image there what future lies Before them, and what face shall be The pole-star of their destiny. Pure Nature's lover! Loving him With love that made all pathways dim And difficult where he was not, -- Then marvel not at forms forgot. And who shall chide? Doth priest know aught Of sign, or holy unction brought From over seas, that ever can Make man love maid or maid love man One whit the more, one bit the less, For all his mummeries to bless? Yea, all his blessings or his ban? The winds breathed warm as Araby; She leaned upon his breast, she lay A wide-winged swan with folded wing. He drowned his hot face in her hair, He heard her great heart rise and sing; He felt her bosom swell. The air Swooned sweet with perfume of her form. Her breast was warm, her breath was warm, And warm her warm and perfumed mouth As summer journeys through the south. XXX The argent sea surged steep below, Surged languid in such tropic glow; And two great hearts kept surging so! The fervid kiss of heaven lay Precipitate on wood and sea. Two great souls glowed with ecstasy, The sea glowed scarce as warm as they. XXXI 'Twas love's warm amber afternoon. Two far-off pheasants thrummed a tune, A cricket clanged a restful air. The dreamful billows beat a rune Like heart regrets. Around her head There shone a halo. Men have said 'Twas from a dash of Titian red That flooded all her storm of hair In gold and glory. But they knew, Yea, all men know there ever grew A halo round about her head Like sunlight scarcely vanished. XXXII How still she was! She only knew His love. She saw no life beyond. She loved with love that only lives Outside itself and selfishness, -- A love that glows in its excess; A love that melts pure gold, and gives Thenceforth to all who come to woo No coins but this face stamped thereon, -- Ay, this one image stamped upon Pure gold, with some dim date long gone. XXXIII They kept the headland high; the ship Below began to chafe her chain, To groan as some great beast in pain: While white fear leapt from lip to lip: "The woods on fire! The woods in flame! Come down and save us in God's name!" He heard! he did not speak or stir, -- He thought of her, of only her, While flames behind, before them lay To hold the stoutest heart at bay! Strange sounds were heard far up the flood, Strange, savage sounds that chilled the blood! Then sudden, from the dense, dark wood Above, about them where they stood Strange, hairy beasts came peering out; And now was thrust a long black snout, And now a tusky mouth. It was A sight to make the stoutest pause. "Cut loose the ship!" the black mate cried; "Cut loose the ship!" the crew replied. They drove into the sea. It lay As light as ever middle day. And then a half-blind bitch that sat All slobber-mouthed, and monkish cowled With great, broad, floppy, leathern ears Amid the men, rose up and howled, And doleful howled her plaintive fears, While all looked mute aghast thereat. It was the grimmest eve, I think, That ever hung on Hades' brink. Great broad-winged bats possessed the air, Bats whirling blindly everywhere; It was such troubled twilight eve As never mortal would believe. XXXIV Some say the crazed hag lit the wood In circle where the lovers stood; Some say the gray priest feared the crew Might find at last the hoard of gold Long hidden from the black ship's hold, -- I doubt me if men ever knew. But such mad, howling, flame-lit shore No mortal ever knew before. Huge beasts above that shining sea, Wild, hideous beasts with shaggy hair, With red mouths lifting in the air, All piteous howled, and plaintively, -- The wildest sounds, the weirdest sight That ever shook the walls of night. How lorn they howled, with lifted head, To dim and distant isles that lay Wedged tight along a line of red, Caught in the closing gates of day 'Twixt sky and sea and far away, -- It was the saddest sound to hear That ever struck on human ear. They doleful called; and answered they The plaintiff sea-cows far away, -- The great sea-cows that called from isles, Away across red flaming miles, With dripping mouths and lolling tongue, As if they called for captured young, -- The huge sea-cows that called the whiles Their great wide mouths were mouthing moss; And still they doleful called across From isles beyond the watery miles. No sound can half so doleful be As sea-cows calling from the sea. XXXV The sun, outdone, lay down. He lay In seas of blood. He sinking drew The gates of sunset sudden to, And they in shattered fragments lay. Then night came, moving in mad flame; Then full night, lighted as he came, As lighted by high summer sun Descending through the burning blue. It was a gold and amber hue, Aye, all hues blended into one. The moon came on, came leaning low. The moon spilled splendor where she came, And filled the world with yellow flame Along the far sea-isles aglow; She fell along that amber flood, A silver flame in seas of blood. It was the strangest moon, ah me! That ever settled on God's sea. XXXVI Slim snakes slid down from fern and grass, From wood, from fen, from anywhere; You could not step, you could not pass, And you would hesitate to stir, Lest in some sudden, hurried tread Your foot struck some unbruised head: It seemed like some infernal dream; They slid in streams into the stream; They curved and sinuous curved across, Like living streams of living moss, -- There is no art of man can make A ripple like a swimming snake! XXXVII Encompassed, lorn, the lovers stood, Abandoned there, death in the air! That beetling steep, that blazing wood -- Red flame! red flame, and everywhere! Yet he was born to strive, to bear The front of battle. He would die In noble effort, and defy The grizzled visage of despair. He threw his two strong arms full length As if to surely test their strength; Then tore his vestments, textile things That could but tempt the demon wings Of flame that girt them round about, Then threw his garments to the air As one that laughed at death, at doubt, And like a god stood thewed and bare. She did not hesitate; she knew The need of action; swift she threw Her burning vestments by, and bound Her wondrous wealth of hair that fell An all-concealing cloud around Her glorious presence, as he came To seize and bear her through the flame, -- An Orpheus out of burning hell! He leaned above her, wound his arm About her splendor, while the noon Of flood tide, manhood, flushed his face, And high flames leapt the high headland! -- They stood as twin-hewn statues stand, High lifted in some storied place. He clasped her close, he spoke of death, -- Of death and love in the same breath. He clasped her close; her bosom lay Like ship safe anchored in some bay, Where never rage or rack of main Might even shake her anchor chain. XXXVIII The flames! They could not stand or stay; Beyond, the beetling steep, the sea! But at his feet a narrow way, A short steep path, pitched suddenly Safe open to the river's beach, Where lay a small white isle in reach, -- A small, white, rippled isle of sand Where yet the two might safely land. And there, through smoke and flame, behold The priest stood safe, yet all appalled! He reached the cross; he cried, he called; He waved his high-held cross of gold. He called and called, he bade them fly Through flames to him, nor bide and die! Her lover saw; he saw, and knew His giant strength could bear her through. And yet he would not start or stir. He clasped her close as death can hold, Or dying miser clasp his gold, -- His hold became a part of her. He would not give her up! He would Not bear her waveward though he could! That height was heaven; the wave was hell. He clasped her close, -- what else had done The manliest man beneath the sun? Was it not well? was it not well? O man, be glad! be grandly glad, And king-like walk thy ways of death! For more than years of bliss you had That one brief time you breathed her breath, Yea, more than years upon a throne That one brief time you held her fast, Soul surged to soul, vehement, vast, -- True breast to breast, and all your own. Live me one day, one narrow night, One second of supreme delight Like that, and I will blow like chaff The hollow years aside, and laugh A loud trimphant laugh, and I, King-like and crowned, will gladly die. Oh, but to wrap my love with flame! With flame within, with flame without! Oh, but to die like this, nor doubt -- To die and know her still the same! To know that down the ghostly shore Snow-white she walks for ever more! XXXIX He poised her, held her high in air, -- His great strong limbs, his great arm's length! -- Then turned his knotted shoulders bare As birth-time in his splendid strength, And strode with lordly, kingly stride To where the high and wood-hung edge Looked down, far down upon the molten tide. The flames leaped with him to the ledge, The flames leapt leering at his side. XL He leaned above the ledge. Below He saw the black ship grope and cruise, -- A midge below, a mile below. His limbs were knotted as the thews Of Hercules in his death-throe. The flame! the flame! the envious flame! She wound her arms, she wound her hair About his tall form, grand and bare, To stay the fierce flame where it came. The black ship, like some moonlit wreck, Below along the burning sea Groped on and on all silently, With silent pigmies on her deck. That midge-like ship, far, far below; That mirage lifting from the hill! His flame-lit form began to grow, -- To glow and grow more grandly still. The ship so small, that form so tall, It grew to tower over all. A tall Colossus, bronze and gold, As if that flame-lit form were he Who once bestrode the Rhodian sea, And ruled the watery world of old: As if the lost Colossus stood Above that burning sea of wood. And she! that shapely form upheld, Held high as if to touch the sky, What airy shape, how shapely high, -- What goddess of the seas of eld! Her hand upheld, her high right hand, As if she would forget the land; As if to gather stars, and heap The stars like torches there to light Her hero's path across the deep To some far isle that fearful night. XLI The envious flame, one moment leapt Enraged to see such majesty, Such scorn of death; such kingly scorn. . . Then like some lightning-riven tree They sank down in that flame -- and slept. Then all was hushed above that steep So still that they might sleep and sleep, As when a Summer's day is born. At last! from out the embers leapt Two shafts of light above the night, -- Two wings of flame that lifting swept In steady, calm, and upward flight; Two wings of flame against the white Far-lifting, tranquil, snowy cone; Two wings of love, two wings of light, Far, far above that troubled night, As mounting, mounting to God's throne. XLII And all night long that upward light Lit up the sea-cow's bed below: The far sea-cows still calling so It seemed as they must call all night. All night! there was no night. Nay, nay, There was no night. The night that lay Between that awful eve and day, -- That nameless night was burned away. |