Poems (Hardy)/Sonnets of a lover
SONNETS OF A LOVER
I
I KNOW not, O God, what chrism shall be mine, Of loss, thorn-crowned, or love supreme and whole; But let it be that I may bear my soulBlameless though afraid before that divineArk, where 'mid angels' wings thou didst enshrine The Nobler Love. Take Thou of thought control Until upon my breast the sacred stoleOf Love's investiture may fitly shine.Thou dost instruct me; light is not withheld; I would exalt myself to that I know, For her whom I shall choose; for her would riseAbove myself; for her would haste, compelled To holiest heights of being, there to go Comrade of stars, frequenter of the skies.
II
Could you let my heart speak, O lady fair, And tell how, ever exalting love and you, It has uplifted life and led it throughThe lowlands, up the high and sunlit stairOf duty,—oh, if you could, you might care A little for this rose,—love's blossoming true,— Sprung by the path where you have brushed the dewIn passing; and a little I might shareThe thought thus wakened, and a little cherish This rose, that wistful rears its tender head Looking to Love's domain; there would it shrineIts joyous boughs about our home, nor perish Though thou and I were numbered with the dead, Though there thy heart lay buried low with mine.
III
A bird sings in the garden of my heart, And all day long I hear its carol clear; At night it folds its gentle wings so near,Its tender pulsings stir my blood and startThe tears within my eyes to think love's art Should stay her wings with me and make so dear The rude wild bowers of my demesne, nor fearBut she should find her spirit's counterpart.All day I go resolved and thinking how To make more sweet for her that garden place; How I will pluck away the weeds, the roseOf love to plant there for her nesting-bough; How I will school my heart to every grace That it may be her home, her one repose.
IV
As Dante's soul uplifted, whiter grew When thinking Beatrice's prayer would be For his ennobling, so mine turns to thee,My heart's astronomer, to find the clueTo guiding stars yet hidden from my view, But risen to thine. The clouded orbs I see Through mists of earth, barely suffice to meTo show the devious path I still pursue.Could I conspire with the archangel there Before thy heart's flame-guarded paradise! Fear not, sweet spirit; I should walk unshodIts ways, and kneeling where thou kneel'st at prayer, If I should hear my faltered name, arise Assured of life, of love, of thee, of God.
V
Lady, thy goodness shone to me from far, Long ere my soul beheld its luminous ray Of high serenity athwart my wayAs certain light from some invariable star.So have I seen in desert paths the spar Of dim white crystal gleaming in the gray Of night; so have I known that reflex playImaged an orb whose lights eternal are.Tranquil with hope, straight on I fare, and find Clear ground before me, since one white star beams Constant, though far, along the path I go.Wherefore, to that benignant light I bind Observance, till, O greatener of my dreams, I come to thee, life's highest lore to know.
VIWITH A TREE-CONFIDANTVoiceless thou art not. Speak thy word to me!— Forthrightness and strength and the patient ways Of faith when stormy seasons bring amazeAnd make the blood through backward gateways flee.Prevent my soul's recession!—Not to thee, O, not to thee, beneath these boughs I raise This cry! Thy steadfastness my spirit staysBut builds not all my hope, thou friendly tree.Father of love and life, take thought of me These fateful days, that I my growth may grow Skyward to thee, worldward where service lies,Whether blow winds of cloudy destiny, Or heaven's warm arch bend close and low, Prefigured in my love's consenting eyes.
VII
Wear inviolate vesture, O my soul, When now thou enterest thought's removèd shrine. Thou canst not be alone there; 'tis no longer thineTo shut the door and keep the key's control.Unshared, thy table's daily bread and bowl Had grown unsweet,—wanting the mystic sign That makes of every common dish a meal divine,The morsel that love shares more than the whole.That this dear guest may stay to dwell with thee, Make yet more fair thy house's garniture. Her wings that nestle to thy happy breastMust grow content, stronger by flight with thee For higher heavens, whence higher still to lure Thee on to love's eventual haven, rest.