Chapter 81
I. In at your cabin window, under the drifting sky, softly and all on tiptoe, winds that are passing by, steel with a tender longing, paws with a yearning sigh, kiss you and then in rapture, folding their pinions, die. II. There is something divinely happy and something divinely fair. At work in the world this morning, its spirit is everywhere. I'm filled with a sense of youngness, my limbs
are alive and strong, my heart with a throb of gladness re-echoes the ocean's song. The a splendid halo that sets on the brow of earth, the wind is the flute of silver, he tunes to his strains of mirth, the waves are a brim with laughter, the ship is a soul set free and out through this perfect weather you'll presently come to me. III. I pledged you in a cup of wine and every passion that was mine I melted in that nectar
rare, to drink to you, I swear, I swear. I pledged you in the cup of life, its inmost essence hot and rife, I caught from drops my heart bled there, to drink to you, I swear, I swear. IV. Listen, dear heart, a while till I repeat, in all my life there never was so sweet an hour as this, so perfectly complete, so full of joy, so deep and so replete, with ardent
things, alas, that time is fleet. V. Good night until tomorrow, dear, you go to rest and I still here, will dream of all you do and say, will contemplate as lovers may, each thing you've touched with eyes that find your form in all you leave behind. Your presence and the joy that fills the heart and soul with countless thrills is still beside me and the ship throbs out with every rise
and dip, the words that uttered once shall be my music through eternity. VI. Let me forget the land, the turmoil and the strife of cities, let me stand alone with you and life, encircled by the sky, uplifted by the sea, the world is you and I, then give yourself to me. VII. Don't speak, a word would mar it all, just put your hand in mine, this silence seems
of heaven to fall, from thence a thing divine. Be still, to move would seem profane, so magic is the night, all hushed yet throbbing with a vein of passionate delight. Look up and let your gaze enfold my face that bends above and in my ardent eyes behold the ecstasy of love. VIII. I take my heart with trembling hands, unworthy vassal though it be, sad wanderer
in many lands, such as it is I offer thee, and will not even dare complain, shouldst thou this sorry gift disdain, yet, oh, be sure that every sigh, each beat of anguish deep and sore, has grown a dagger thrust which I must bear for all that's gone before, and bearing it will learn to know the cleansing agony of woe, and this remember ere you turn your head away in silent pride, the soul is young that still can learn new truths that
love has simplified, and being young may still attain perfection through repentant pain. Then stoop to pity, do not close the gate of paradise and rest, to one whose spirit seeks repose within that haven of the blessed, but rather fling the portal wide and draw the pilgrim safe inside. IX. The past is like an empty dream, the people in it are not real, the joys and sorrows only
seem as phantom hands I cannot feel, I will not even count the hours that lie between those yesterdays and what my present life embowers of love and all its golden ways. All that I am, my soul, my mind, and all I ever hope to be, I fling with scarce a look behind, into this present ecstasy. I have not even one regret, to waste upon those lagging years, too colourless to fain forget, too soulless for repentant tears, no sigh, though
life should end for me today, so potent is the bliss of love, I think eternity is held embodied in a kiss. X. If every rose that ever blew, all fragrant with the breath of spring, were here, aglow with sun and dew, with ardent petals shimmering, what would their beauty count to me? Have I not lived to look on thee? If every note of music born, each wistful cadence low and
sweet, were all combined from night till dawn to render melody complete, why should my throbbing sense rejoice that once has listened to thy voice? Nor do I think that paradise could dim with raptured awe my gaze, unfolding to my dazzled eyes the marvel of untrodden ways, for know I not of heaven apart, since I have found thy living heart? XI. O my beloved, though I live a thousand years upon the earth, and though each pleasure
take its birth from me, though it be mine to give all rapture every thrill and joy known unto gods, though I destroy all ills, and overcome in death within the vapour of a breath that from thy lips passed into mine, fire-tipped of earth yet all divine, would be contained more ecstasy to chain the soul eternally with fetters woven of thy kiss, and the earth would be more glorious than in Mohammed's realms of bliss, nay more, of heaven, I ask but this.
XII. Over the silent waters flashes the beacon light, sharp as a strong white dagger cleaving the breast of night, beacon of hope and safety, see we are near the land, come and stand close beside me, give me your dear white hand, here in the wind and darkness, under the sighing mast, let us forget the future, let us condone the past, God in his high blue heaven, counting the falling tears, grants us this fleeting present out of the endless years.
XIII. The land, the land, it is the end of all my dreams, the sudden bend along the road and face to face I stand with some deserted place, where death and darkness grow apace, the land, the land with beating heart, I am awake, alone, apart, to gaze upon the nearing shore, and know that all that's gone before means nothing to you any more, the land, the land, O blessed sea, lift up your arms and cover me, one long caress upon your breast,
you know me, I have stood confessed before you, now I fain would rest. XIV. O time, there's much I could forgive, in though you told me that to live another hour it was denied, I think I'd lay my life aside, with few regrets and scarce a sigh, it would not be so hard to die, but like a thief steals in the night, you robbed me, what was mine by right, your ruthless hands have snatched away, the passions that were
mine, yesterday you've cankered with your deadly rust and turned a living heart to dust. XV. Ah, if but once again to hear the song of waves against the keel, the sound of winds upon the sea, to watch the moonlight and to feel your hand in mine, to have you steal more close, more close, till sense is real, and all the deep unfathomed bliss of life and death were in your kiss.
XVI. I have striven for three whole years to forget, I have prayed, I grovelled to God, and yet, at the glimpse of a pictured face of a form that suggested yours, like a bliding storm, the past rose up and in anguish cried, O fool, I live, it was you who died. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. End of Twixed Earth and Stars by Radcliffe Hall.
