Mandragora/Noon

by John Cowper Powys

For works with similar titles, see Noon.

NOON

OVER the hills and far away
   Are shadowy places where forests deep
   Cover with everlasting sleep
Old dethroned gods of an earlier day,
   And sometimes when heavy on stone and sod,
The noon-tide heat lies languid and dim,
   We feel the passing of such a god,
And the hushed earth yearning to welcome him.

Now — very now — do you feel it? — That breath
   Falling, rising, floating, drifting?
What sudden immortal presence is this
   That the place and the hour witnesseth?
It rustles the reeds of the meadow rills;
   The dreamy July grass it is lifting.
Ah! You are pale. Did something kiss
   Your forehead that was sweet as death?
"Look up to the hills" — the psalmist saith —
   Our help comes from beyond the hills!

Oh friend, that can be no more than a friend;
   As you and others and all decide,
See — the horizon has no end!
   See — the doors of the world stand wide!
They are wise, wise, gods, — I know it well —
Wise and strong, that hold us apart;
   But this summer-noon has a different spell,
   Do you not feel it in your heart?

From over the hills and far away
   There has come some old forgotten god,
Some old dethroned, unsceptered god.
   Caring nothing for their wise sway,
And has joined us with a nod.