rave
Across your father's fields from East to West?
Shine forth, O Moon! unveil thee, pallid queen!
Heal me, as when my passion clomb to thine;
Shed down thy lucent drench, thy light serene,
Oh, lift me back to Life and Love--oh, shine!
My salt hath lost its virtue in men's blood
And o'er their hearts the marish vapour crawls;
Now Death o'erwhelms me with his colder flood,
And, prey to Time, my royal glory falls.

Daemon of Fire, fairest of all elements, fairest, purest, divinest,
Spirit of Life and Power, that dwells never with Death!

His feet take hold on Earth, but his crest rears its unhampered
glory in the highest airs.

Fleeing from Nature's frozen breast, he trends to lowest crypts,
swift to some final refuge, moving in leaping sheets and sinuous
trails.

The mouths of all volcanoes, once his throne, are choked with
snow. In subterranean corridors cold creeps upon the central vaults
of flame.

SONG OF FIRE

BACK to the womb I creep, back to the womb!
Let snows and stagnant seas my province blight,
Deep down in matrix grots shall I consume
My mother's flesh, my spirit and the night.
I shall beat about her heart a few brief years,--
I, who once rolled fiery gold through all her veins,
And soared from mountain-throats o'er hemispheres,
And throbbed in huts and palaces and fanes.
What power in me abode! what loveliness!
The three vast elements proclaimed me king,
Straight from the Sun I sank with gifts to bless
The world with living tongue and burning wing.
I came, and Man sat caverned with the brute;
I nursed him and he rose into a god;
I leave him and he withers with the fruit
Of ages on the ground his splendour trod.
Farewell, you airs and skies from whence I fell,
Fond Earth, farewell, and all thy beauty past--
And thou, old pulseless Ocean foe, farewell!--
All dead! I too shall die, though I be last.

Utter silence and utter lifelessness engulf the Globe; the frozen
and adamantine bars of oblivion fall.

As the soft sibilant tones of the Fire-daemon flutter away, slowly
the spheres recede and vanish in the clasp of Night.

Once more is heard, sweet and clear, the voice of the Spirit
of Chaos.

Her music of mercy sinks softly down like star-dust, or as of old
dew on terrestrial flowers.

Through the infinite Universe, through Eternity, she sings her
everlasting song.

She lulls her endless flocks of worlds asleep; she seals