A VISION OF POETS.
169
A broader glory! You may see
The trees grow rarer presently,—
The air blows up more fresh and free:
The trees grow rarer presently,—
The air blows up more fresh and free:
Until they come from dark to light,
And from the forest to the sight
Of the large Heaven-heart, bare with night,—
And from the forest to the sight
Of the large Heaven-heart, bare with night,—
A fiery throb in every star
With burning arteries that are
The conduits of God's life afar,—
With burning arteries that are
The conduits of God's life afar,—
A wild brown moorland underneath,
Low glimmering here and thither, with
White pools in breaks, as blank as death.
Low glimmering here and thither, with
White pools in breaks, as blank as death.
Beside the first pool, near the wood,
A dead tree in set horror stood,
Peeled and disjointed, stark as rood;
A dead tree in set horror stood,
Peeled and disjointed, stark as rood;
Since thunder stricken, years ago,
Fixed in the spectral strain and throe
Wherewith it struggled from the blow:
Fixed in the spectral strain and throe
Wherewith it struggled from the blow:
A monumental tree . . . alone,
That will not bend, if tempest-blown,
But break off sudden like a stone,—
That will not bend, if tempest-blown,
But break off sudden like a stone,—
Its lifeless shadow lies oblique
Upon the pool,—where, javelin-like,
The star-rays quiver while they strike.
Upon the pool,—where, javelin-like,
The star-rays quiver while they strike.
"Drink," said the lady, very still—
"Be holy and cold." He did her will,
And drank the starry water chill.
"Be holy and cold." He did her will,
And drank the starry water chill.
The next pool they came near unto,
Was bare of trees: there, only grew
Straight flags and lilies fair to view,
Was bare of trees: there, only grew
Straight flags and lilies fair to view,
Which sullen on the water sate,
And leant their faces on the flat,
As weary of the starlight-state.
And leant their faces on the flat,
As weary of the starlight-state.
