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The eyeless Ghost.
X

Or sometimes she will seem
Heavenly, but her blush, soon wearing white,

Veils like a gorsebush in a web of blight,
With gold-buds dim.

XI
Once worshipped Prime of Powers,

She still was the Implacable: as a beast,
She struck him down and dragged him from the feast

She crowned with flowers.
XII

Her pomp of glorious hues,
Her revelries of ripeness, her kind smile,

Her songs, her peeping faces, lure awhile
With symbol-clues.

XIII
The mystery she holds

For him, inveterately he strains to see,
And sight of his obtuseness is the key

Among those folds.
XIV

He may entreat, aspire,
He may despair, and she has never heed.

She drinking his warm sweat will soothe his need,
Not his desire.

XV
She prompts him to rejoice,

Yet scares him on the threshold with the shroud.
He deems her cherishing of her best-endowed

A wanton's choice.
XVI

Albeit thereof he has found
Firm roadway between lustfulness and pain;

Has half transferred the battle to his brain,
From bloody ground;

XVII
He will not read her good,

Or wise, but with the passion Self obscures;
Through that old devil of the thousand lures,

Through that dense hood:
XVIII

Through terror, through distrust;
The greed to touch, to view, to have, to live:

Through all that makes of him a sensitive
Abhorring dust.

XIX
Behold his wormy home!

And he the wind-whipped, anywhither wave
Crazily tumbled on a shingle-grave

To waste in foam.
XX

Therefore the wretch inclined
Afresh to the Invisible, who, he saith,

Can raise him high: with vows of living faith
For little signs.

XXI
Some signs he must demand,

Some proofs of slaughtered nature; some prized few,
To satisfy the senses it is true,

And in his hand,
XXII

This miracle which saves
Himself, himself doth from extinction clutch,

By virtue of his worth, contrasting much
With brutes and knaves.

XXIII
From dust, of him abhorred,

He would be snatched by Grace discovering worth.
'Sever me from the hollowness of Earth!

Me take, dear Lord!'
XXIV

She hears him. Him she owes
For half her loveliness a love well won

By work that lights the shapeless and the dun,
Their common foes.

XXV
He builds the soaring spires,

That sing his soul in stone: of her he draws,
Though blind to her, by spelling at her laws,

Her purest fires.
XXVI

Through him hath she exchanged,
For the gold harvest-robes, the mural crown,

Her haggard quarry-features and thick frown
Where monsters ranged.

XXVII
And order, high discourse,

And decency, than which is life less dear,
She has of him: the lyre of language clear,

Love's tongue and source.
XXVIII

She hears him, and can hear
With glory in his gains by work achieved:

With grief for grief that is the unperceived
In her so near.

XXIX
If he aloft for aid

Imploring storms, her essence is the spur.
His cry to heaven is a cry to her

He would evade.
XXX

Not elsewhere can he tend.
Those are her rules which bid him wash foul sins;

Those her revulsions from the skull that grins
To ape his end.

XXXI
And her desires are those

For happiness, for lastingness, for light.
'Tis she who kindles in his haunting night

The hoped dawn-rose.
XXXII

Fair fountains of the dark
Daily she waves him, that his inner dream

May clasp amid the glooms a springing beam,
A quivering lark:

XXIII
This life and her to know

For Spirit: with awakenedness of glee
To feel stern joy her origin: not he

The child of woe.
XXXIV

But that the senses still
Usurp the station of their issue mind,

He would have burst the chrysalis of the blind:
As yet he will;

XXXV
As yet he will, she prays,

Yet will when his distempered devil of Self; -
The glutton for her fruits, the wily elf

In shifting rays; -
XXXVI

That captain of the scorned;
The coveter of life in soul and shell,

The fratricide, the thief, the infidel,
The hoofed and horned; -

XXXVII
He singularly doomed

To what he execrates and writhes to shun; -
When fire has passed him vapour to the sun,

And sun relumed,
XXXVIII

Then shall the horrid pall
Be lifted, and a spirit nigh divine,

'Live in thy offspring as I live in mine,'
Will hear her call.

XXXIX
Whence looks he on a land

Whereon his labour is a carven page;
And forth from heritage to heritage

Nought writ on sand.
XL

His fables of the Above,
And his gapped readings of the crown and sword,

The hell detested and the heaven adored,
The hate, the love,

XLI
The bright wing, the black hoof,

He shall peruse, from Reason not disjoined,
And never unfaith clamouring to be coined

To faith by proof.
XLII

She her just Lord may view,
Not he, her creature, till his soul has yearned

With all her gifts to reach the light discerned
Her spirit through.

XLIIII
Then in him time shall run

As in the hour that to young sunlight crows;
And--'If thou hast good faith it can repose,'

She tells her son.
XLIV

Meanwhile on him, her chief
Expression, her great word of life, looks she;

Twi-minded of him, as the waxing tree,
Or dated leaf.

A BALLAD OF FAIR LADIES IN REVOLT
I

See the sweet women, friend, that lean beneath
The ever-falling fountain of green leaves

Round the white bending stem, and like a wreath
Of our most blushful flower shine trembling through,

To teach philosophers the thirst of thieves:
Is one for me? is one for you?

II
- Fair sirs, we give you welcome, yield you place,

And you shall choose among us which you will,
Without the idle pastime of the chase,

If to this treaty you can well agree:
To wed our cause, and its high task fulfil.

He who's for us, for him are we!
III

- Most gracious ladies, nigh when light has birth,
A troop of maids, brown as burnt heather-bells,

And rich with life as moss-roots breathe of earth
In the first plucking of them, past us flew

To labour, singing rustic ritornells:
Had they a cause? are they of you?

IV
- Sirs, they are as unthinking armies are

To thoughtful leaders, and our cause is theirs.


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