38
THE SWORD OF PAIN
Slow dying stars, dreaming of days forgot,
Of silent worlds and ancient memories–
White mountain-crest, dense forest, secret grot,
Wide plains, wild shores, the crash of plunging
seas.
Of silent worlds and ancient memories–
White mountain-crest, dense forest, secret grot,
Wide plains, wild shores, the crash of plunging
seas.
Like a blown leaf, caught by the vagrant air
That still ascends, I mounted: Everywhere
Dead suns and satellites–a lightless train
In darkness rushing to be born again–
Hurled through the void, or, by fierce shock
redeemed,
Blazed back to life, and flushed with splendour
bright
Thronged spaces and dark rolling orbs that seemed
Millions of black motes in a sea of light.
That still ascends, I mounted: Everywhere
Dead suns and satellites–a lightless train
In darkness rushing to be born again–
Hurled through the void, or, by fierce shock
redeemed,
Blazed back to life, and flushed with splendour
bright
Thronged spaces and dark rolling orbs that seemed
Millions of black motes in a sea of light.
There is a river whose imperial flow
Circles the mid-most heaven with broad'ning glow ;
Its fiery waves are rays of suns supreme,
Crimson and gold its changing currents gleam,
And blue and purest white, and in its tide
Move worlds unnumbered and the starry dust
That builds new suns and powers that shall abide
To rule new regions with a sway august.
Circles the mid-most heaven with broad'ning glow ;
Its fiery waves are rays of suns supreme,
Crimson and gold its changing currents gleam,
And blue and purest white, and in its tide
Move worlds unnumbered and the starry dust
That builds new suns and powers that shall abide
To rule new regions with a sway august.
