Love unconscious if it healeth.
12.
_He._
Handsels of anemones
The surrendered hours
Pour about the sweet Spring's knees--
Crowding babies of the breeze,
Her unstudied flowers.
When 't is dawn, bestowing Day
Strews with coins of golden
Every furlong of his way--
Like a Sultan gone to pray
At a Kaaba olden.
Warlock Night, when dips the dark,
Opens, tire on tire,
Windows of an heavenly ark,
Whence the stars swarm, spark on spark,
Butterflies of fire.
With the night, the day, the spring,--
Godly chords of beauty,--
We the instrument will string
Of our lives and love shall sing
Songs of truth and duty.
13.
_She._
How it was I can not tell,
For I know not where nor why,
And the beautiful befell
In a land that does not lie
East or West where mortals dwell--
But beneath a vaguer sky.
Was it in the golden ages,
Or the iron, that I heard,
In prophetic speech of sages,
How had come a snowy bird
'Neath whose wing lay written pages
Of an unknown lover's word?
I forget; you may remember
How the earthquake shook our ships;
How our city, one huge ember,
Blazed within the thick eclipse;
When you found me--deep December
Sealed on icy eyes and lips.
I forget. No one may say
Pre-existences are true:
Here 's a flower dies to-day,
Resurrected blooms anew:
Death is dumb and Life is gray--
Who shall doubt what God can do!
14.
_He._
As to this, nothing to tell,
You being all my belief;
Doubt may not enter or dwell
Here where your image is chief,
Royal, to quicken or quell,
Swaying no sceptre of grief.
Wise with the wisdom of Spring--
Dew-drops, a world in each prism,
Gems from the universe ring:--
Free of all creed and all schism,
Buds that are speechless but bring
God-uttered God aphorism.
See how the synod is met
There of the planets to preach us--
Freed from the frost's oubliette,
Here how the flowers beseech us--
Were it not well to forget
Winter and night as they teach us?
Dew-drop, a bud, and a star,
These--each a separate thought
Over man's logic how far!--
God to a unit hath wrought--
Love, making these what they are,
Fo
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