EXCUSES

Ah would you turn me back now from the flowers, You who are different as the air from sea is, Ah for the pollen from our wreath of hours, You who are magical, not mine as she is, Say will you call us from our time of flowers?

You whom I loved and love, not understanding, Yea we were ever torn with constant striving, Seeing our G.o.ds are different, and commanding One good from them, and in my heart reviving Old discords and bent thought, not understanding.

We who have wept, we who have lain together Upon the green and sere and white of every season, We who have loved the sun but for the weather Of our own hearts have found no constant reason, What is your part, now we have come together?

What is your pain, Dear, what is your heart now A little sad, a little.... Nay, I know not Seeing I never had and have no part now In your own secret councils wherein blow not My roses. My vineyard being another heart now?

You who were ever dear and dearer being strange, How shall I "go" who never came anear you?

How could I stay, who never came in range Of anything that halved; could never hear you Rightly in your silence; nay, your very speech was strange.

You, who have loved not what I was or will be, You who but loved me for a thing I could be, You who love not a song whate'er its skill be But only love the cause or what cause should be, How could I give you what I am or will be?

Nay, though your eyes are sad, you will not hinder, You, who would have had me only near not nearer, Nay though my heart had burned to a bright cinder Love would have said to me: "Still fear her, Pain is thy lot and naught she hath can hinder,"

So I, for this sad gladness that is mine now, Who never spoke aright in speaking to you, Uncomprehending anything that's thine now, E'en in my spoken words more wrong may do you In looking back from this new grace that's mine now.

_Sic semper finis deest._

II

SATIEMUS

What if I know thy speeches word by word?

And if thou knew'st I knew them wouldst thou speak?

What if I know thy speeches word by word, And all the time thou sayest them o'er I said, "Lo, one there was who bent her fair bright head, Sighing as thou dost through the golden speech."

Or, as our laughters mingle each with each, As crushed lips take their respite fitfully, What if my thoughts were turned in their mid reach Whispering among them, "The fair dead Must know such moments, thinking on the gra.s.s; On how white dogwoods murmured overhead In the bright glad days!"

How if the low dear sound within thy throat Hath as faint lute-strings in its dim accord Dim tales that blind me, running one by one With times told over as we tell by rote; What if I know thy laughter word by word Nor find aught novel in thy merriment?

III

ABELARD

"_Pere Esbaillart a Sanct Denis._"

VILLON.

"Because my soul cried out, and only the long ways Grown weary, gave me answer and Because she answered when the very ways were dumb With all their hoa.r.s.e, dry speech grown faint and chill.

Because her answer was a call to me, Though I have sinned, my G.o.d, and though thy angels Bear no more now my thought to whom I love; Now though I crouch afraid in all thy dark Will I once cry to thee: Once more! Once more my strength!

Yea though I sin to call him forth once more, Thy messengers for mine, Their wings my power!

And let once more my wings fold down above her, Let their cool length be spread Over her feet and head And let thy calm come down To dwell within her, and thy gown of peace Clothe all her body in its samite.

O Father of all the blind and all the strong, Though I have left thy courts, though all the throng Of thy gold-shimmering choir know me not, Though I have dared the body and have donned Its frail strong-seeming, and although Its lightening joy is made my swifter song, Though I have known thy stars, yea all, and chosen one.

Yea though I make no barter, and repent no jot, Yet for the sunlight of that former time Grant me the boon, O G.o.d, Once more, once more, or I or some white thought Shall rise beside her and, enveloping All her strange glory in its wings of light, Bring down thy peace upon her way-worn soul.

Oh sheathe that sword of her in some strong case, The doe-skin scabbard of thy clear Rafael!

Yea let thy angels walk, as I have seen Them pa.s.sing, or have seen their wings Spread their pavilions o'er our twin delight.

Yea I have seen them when the purple light Hid all her garden from my drowsy eyes.

A PROLOGUE

SCENE--IN THE AIR

_The Lords of the Air_:

What light hath pa.s.sed us in the silent ways?

_The Spirits of Fire_:

We are sustained, strengthened suddenly.

_The Spirits of Water_:

Lo, how the utmost deeps are clarified!

_The Spirits Terrene_:

What might is this more potent than the spring?

Lo, how the night Which wrapped us round with its most heavy cloths Opens and breathes with some strange-fashioned brighness!

IN HEAVEN

_Christ, the eternal Spirit in Heaven speaketh thus, over the child of Mary_:

O star, move forth and write upon the skies, "This child is born in ways miraculous."

O windy spirits, that are born in Heaven, Go down and bid the powers of Earth and Air Protect his ways until the Time shall come.

O Mother, if the dark of things to be Wrap round thy heart with cloudy apprehensions, Eat of thy present corn, the aftermath Hath its appointed end in whirling light.

Eat of thy present corn, thou so hast share In mightier portents than Augustus hath.

In every moment all to be is born, Thou art the moment and need'st fear no scorn.

_Echo of the Angels singing "Exultasti"_:

Silence is born of many peaceful things, Thus is the starlight woven into strings Whereon the Powers of peace make sweet accord.

Rejoice, O Earth, thy Lord Hath chosen Him his holy resting-place.

Lo, how the winged sign Flutters above that hallowed chrysalis.