the children of the night-第7部分

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That　love　and　all　the　dreams　of　love　are　away　beyond　the　mountains。

The　songs　that　call　for　us　to…night；　they　have　called　for　men　before　us；

And　the　winds　that　blow　the　message；　they　have　blown　ten　thousand　years；

But　this　will　end　our　wander…time；　for　we　know　the　joy　that　waits　us

In　the　strangeness　of　home…coming；　and　a　faithful　woman's　eyes。



　　　　　Come　away！　come　away！　there　is　nothing　now　to　cheer　us　

　　　　　Nothing　now　to　comfort　us；　but　love's　road　home：　

　　　　　Over　there　beyond　the　darkness　there's　a　window　gleams　to　greet　us；

　　　　　And　a　warm　hearth　waits　for　us　within。



Come　away！　come　away！　　or　the　roving…fiend　will　hold　us；

And　make　us　all　to　dwell　with　him　to　the　end　of　human　faring：

There　are　no　men　yet　can　leave　him　when　his　hands　are　clutched　upon　them；

There　are　none　will　own　his　enmity；　there　are　none　will　call　him　brother。

So　we'll　be　up　and　on　the　way；　and　the　less　we　brag　the　better

For　the　freedom　that　God　gave　us　and　the　dread　we　do　not　know：　

The　frost　that　skips　the　willow…leaf　will　again　be　back　to　blight　it；

And　the　doom　we　cannot　fly　from　is　the　doom　we　do　not　see。



　　　　　Come　away！　come　away！　there　are　dead　men　all　around　us　

　　　　　Frozen　men　that　mock　us　with　a　wild；　hard　laugh

　　　　　That　shrieks　and　sinks　and　whimpers　in　the　shrill　November　rushes；

　　　　　And　the　long　fall　wind　on　the　lake。









Octaves







　　I





To　get　at　the　eternal　strength　of　things；

And　fearlessly　to　make　strong　songs　of　it；

Is；　to　my　mind；　the　mission　of　that　man

The　world　would　call　a　poet。　　He　may　sing

But　roughly；　and　withal　ungraciously；

But　if　he　touch　to　life　the　one　right　chord

Wherein　God's　music　slumbers；　and　awake

To　truth　one　drowsed　ambition；　he　sings　well。







　　II





We　thrill　too　strangely　at　the　master's　touch；

We　shrink　too　sadly　from　the　larger　self

Which　for　its　own　completeness　agitates

And　undetermines　us；　we　do　not　feel　

We　dare　not　feel　it　yet　　the　splendid　shame

Of　uncreated　failure；　we　forget；

The　while　we　groan；　that　God's　accomplishment

Is　always　and　unfailingly　at　hand。







　　III





To　mortal　ears　the　plainest　word　may　ring

Fantastic　and　unheard…of；　and　as　false

And　out　of　tune　as　ever　to　our　own

Did　ring　the　prayers　of　man…made　maniacs；

But　if　that　word　be　the　plain　word　of　Truth；

It　leaves　an　echo　that　begets　itself；

Persistent　in　itself　and　of　itself；

Regenerate；　reiterate；　replete。







　　IV





Tumultuously　void　of　a　clean　scheme

Whereon　to　build；　whereof　to　formulate；

The　legion　life　that　riots　in　mankind

Goes　ever　plunging　upward；　up　and　down；

Most　like　some　crazy　regiment　at　arms；

Undisciplined　of　aught　but　Ignorance；

And　ever　led　resourcelessly　along

To　brainless　carnage　by　drunk　trumpeters。







　　V





To　me　the　groaning　of　world…worshippers

Rings　like　a　lonely　music　played　in　hell

By　one　with　art　enough　to　cleave　the　walls

Of　heaven　with　his　cadence；　but　without

The　wisdom　or　the　will　to　comprehend

The　strangeness　of　his　own　perversity；

And　all　without　the　courage　to　deny

The　profit　and　the　pride　of　his　defeat。







　　VI





While　we　are　drilled　in　error；　we　are　lost

Alike　to　truth　and　usefulness。　　We　think

We　are　great　warriors　now；　and　we　can　brag

Like　Titans；　but　the　world　is　growing　young；

And　we；　the　fools　of　time；　are　growing　with　it：　

We　do　not　fight　to…day；　we　only　die；

We　are　too　proud　of　death；　and　too　ashamed

Of　God；　to　know　enough　to　be　alive。







　　VII





There　is　one　battle…field　whereon　we　fall

Triumphant　and　unconquered；　but；　alas！

We　are　too　fleshly　fearful　of　ourselves

To　fight　there　till　our　days　are　whirled　and　blurred

By　sorrow；　and　the　ministering　wheels

Of　anguish　take　us　eastward；　where　the　clouds

Of　human　gloom　are　lost　against　the　gleam

That　shines　on　Thought's　impenetrable　mail。







　　VIII





When　we　shall　hear　no　more　the　cradle…songs

Of　ages　　when　the　timeless　hymns　of　Love

Defeat　them　and　outsound　them　　we　shall　know

The　rapture　of　that　large　release　which　all

Right　science　comprehends；　and　we　shall　read；

With　unoppressed　and　unoffended　eyes；

That　record　of　All…Soul　whereon　God　writes

In　everlasting　runes　the　truth　of　Him。







　　IX





The　guerdon　of　new　childhood　is　repose：　

Once　he　has　read　the　primer　of　right　thought；

A　man　may　claim　between　two　smithy　strokes

Beatitude　enough　to　realize

God's　parallel　completeness　in　the　vague

And　incommensurable　excellence

That　equitably　uncreates　itself

And　makes　a　whirlwind　of　the　Universe。







　　X





There　is　no　loneliness：　　no　matter　where

We　go；　nor　whence　we　come；　nor　what　good　friends

Forsake　us　in　the　seeming；　we　are　all

At　one　with　a　complete　companionship；

And　though　forlornly　joyless　be　the　ways

We　travel；　the　compensate　spirit…gleams

Of　Wisdom　shaft　the　darkness　here　and　there；

Like　scattered　lamps　in　unfrequented　streets。







　　XI





When　one　that　you　and　I　had　all　but　sworn

To　be　the　purest　thing　God　ever　made

Bewilders　us　until　at　last　it　seems

An　angel　has　come　back　restigmatized；　

Faith　wavers；　and　we　wonder　what　there　is

On　earth　to　make　us　faithful　any　more；

But　never　are　quite　wise　enough　to　know

The　wisdom　that　is　in　that　wonderment。







　　XII





Where　does　a　dead　man　go？　　　The　dead　man　dies；

But　the　free　life　that　would　no　longer　feed

On　fagots　of　outburned　and　shattered　flesh

Wakes　to　a　thrilled　invisible　advance；

Unchained　（or　fettered　else）　of　memory；

And　when　the　dead　man　goes　it　seems　to　me

'T　were　better　for　us　all　to　do　away

With　weeping；　and　be　glad　that　he　is　gone。







　　XIII





Still　through　the　dusk　of　dead；　blank…legended；

And　unremunerative　years　we　search

To　get　where　life　begins；　and　still　we　groan

Because　we　do　not　find　the　living　spark

Where　no　spark　ever　was；　and　thus　we　die；

Still　searching；　like　poor　old　astronomers

Who　totter　off　to　bed　and　go　to　sleep；

To　dream　of　untriangulated　stars。







　　XIV





With　conscious　eyes　not　yet　sincere　enough

To　pierce　the　glimmered　cloud　that　fluctuates

Between　me　and　the　glorifying　light

That　screens　itself　with　knowledge；　I　discern

The　searching　rays　of　wisdom　that　reach　through

The　mist　of　shame's　infirm　credulity；

And　infinitely　wonder　if　hard　words

Like　mine　have　any　message　for　the　dead。







　　XV





I　grant　you　friendship　is　a　royal　thing；

But　none　shall　ever　know　that　royalty

For　what　it　is　till　he　has　realized

His　best　friend　in　himself。　　'T　is　then；　perforce；

That　man's　unfettered　faith　indemnifies

Of　its　own　conscious　freedom　the　old　shame；

And　love's　revealed　infinitude　supplants

Of　its　own　wealth　and　wisdom　the　old　scorn。







　　XVI





Though　the　sick　beast　infect　us；　we　are　fraught

Forever　with　indissoluble　Truth；

Wherein　redress　reveals　itself　divine；

Transitional；　transcendent。　　Grief　and　loss；

Disease　and　desolation；　are　the　dreams

Of　wasted　excellence；　and　every　dream

Has　in　it　something　of　an　ageless　fact

That　flouts　deformity　and　laughs　at　years。







　　XVII





We　lack　the　courage　to　be　where　we　are：　

We　love　too　much　to　travel　on　old　roads；

To　triumph　on　old　fields；　we　love　too　much

To　consecrate　the　magic　of　dead　things；

And　yieldingly　to　linger　by　long　walls

Of　ruin；　where　the　ruinous　moonlight

That　sheds　a　lying　glory　on　old　stones

Befriends　us　with　a　wizard's　enmity。







　　XVIII





Something　as　one　with　eyes　that　look　below

The　battle…smoke　to　glimpse　the　foeman's　charge；

We　through　the　dust　of　downward　years　may　scan

The　onslaught　that　awaits　this　idiot　world

Where　blood　pays　blood　for　nothing；　and　where　life

Pays　life　to　madness；　till　at　last　the　ports

Of　gilded　helplessness　be　battered　through

By　the　still　crash　of　salvatory　steel。







　　XIX





To　you　that　sit　with　Sorrow　like　chained　slaves；

And　wonder　if　the　night　will　ever　come；

I　would　say　this：　　The　night　will　never　come；

And　sorrow　is　not　always。　　But　my　words

Are　not　enough；　your　eyes　are　not　enough；

The　soul　itself　must　insulate　the　Real；

Or　ever　you　do　cherish　in　this　life　

In　this　life　or　in　any　life　　repose。







　　XX





Like　a　white　wall　whereon　forever　breaks

Unsatisfied　the　tumult　of　green　seas；

Man's　unconjectured　godliness　rebukes

With　its　imperial　silence　the　lost　waves

Of　insufficient　grief。　　This　mortal　surge

That　beats　against　us　now　is　nothing　else

Than　plangent　ignorance。　　Truth　neither　shakes

Nor　wavers；　but　the　world　shakes；　and　we　shriek。







　　XXI





Nor　jewelled　phrase　nor　mere　mellifluous　rhyme

Reverberates　aright；　or　ever　shall；

One　cadence　of　that　infinite　plain…song

Which　is　itself　all　music。　　Stronger　notes

Than　any　that　have　ever　touched　the　world

Must　ring　to　tell　it　　ring　like　hammer…blows；

Right…echoed　of　a　chime　primordial；

On　anvils；　in　the　gleaming　of　God's　forge。







　　XXII





The　prophet　of　dead　words　defeats　himself：

Whoever　would　acknowledge　and　include

The　foregleam　and　the　glory　of　the　real；

Must　work　with　something　else　than　pen　and　ink

And　painful　preparation：　　he　must　work

With　unseen　implements　that　have　no　names；

And　he　must　win　withal；　to　do　that　work；

Good　fortitude；　clean　wisdom；　and　strong　skill。







　　XXIII





To　curse　the　chilled　insistence　of　the　dawn

Because　the　free　gleam　lingers；　to　defraud

The　constant　opportunity　that　lives

Unchallenged　in　all　sorrow；　to　forget

For　this　large　prodigality　of　gold

That　larger　generosity　of　thought；　

These　are　the　fleshly　clogs　of　human　greed；

The　fundamental　blunders　of　mankind。







　　XXIV





Forebodings　are　the　fiends　of　Recreance；

The　master　of　the　moment；　the　clean　seer

Of　ages；　too　securely　sc