| |
| HERE by the grey north sea, | |
| In the wintry heart of the wild, | |
| Comes the old dream of thee, | |
| Guendolen, mistress and child. | |
| |
| The heart of the forest grieves | 5 |
| In the drift against my door; | |
| A voice is under the eaves, | |
| A footfall on the floor. | |
| |
| Threshold, mirror, and hall, | |
| Vacant and strangely aware, | 10 |
| Wait for their soul’s recall | |
| With the dumb expectant air. | |
| |
| Here when the smouldering west | |
| Burns down into the sea, | |
| I take no heed of rest | 15 |
| And keep the watch for thee. | |
| |
| I sit by the fire and hear | |
| The restless wind go by, | |
| On the long dirge and drear, | |
| Under the low bleak sky. | 20 |
| |
| When day puts out to sea | |
| And night makes in for land, | |
| There is no lock for thee, | |
| Each door awaits thy hand! | |
| |
| When night goes over the hill | 25 |
| And dawn comes down the dale, | |
| It ’s O for the wild sweet will | |
| That shall no more prevail! | |
| |
| When the zenith moon is round, | |
| And snow-wraiths gather and run, | 30 |
| And there is set no bound | |
| To love beneath the sun, | |
| |
| O wayward will, come near | |
| The old mad wilful way, | |
| The soft mouth at my ear | 35 |
| With words too sweet to say! | |
| |
| Come, for the night is cold, | |
| The ghostly moonlight fills | |
| Hollow and rift and fold | |
| Of the eerie Ardise hills! | 40 |
| |
| The windows of my room | |
| Are dark with bitter frost, | |
| The stillness aches with doom | |
| Of something loved and lost. | |
| |
| Outside, the great blue star | 45 |
| Burns in the ghostland pale, | |
| Where giant Algebar | |
| Holds on the endless trail. | |
| |
| Come, for the years are long | |
| And silence keeps the door, | 50 |
| Where shapes with the shadows throng | |
| The firelit chamber floor. | |
| |
| Come, for thy kiss was warm, | |
| With the red embers’ glare | |
| Across thy folding arm | 55 |
| And dark tumultuous hair! | |
| |
| And though thy coming rouse | |
| The sleep-cry of no bird, | |
| The keepers of the house | |
| Shall tremble at thy word. | 60 |
| |
| Come, for the soul is free! | |
| In all the vast dreamland | |
| There is no lock for thee, | |
| Each door awaits thy hand. | |
| |
| Ah, not in dreams at all, | 65 |
| Fleering, perishing, dim, | |
| But thy old self, supple and tall, | |
| Mistress and child of whim! | |
| |
| The proud imperious guise, | |
| Impetuous and serene, | 70 |
| The sad mysterious eyes, | |
| And dignity of mien! | |
| |
| Yea, wilt thou not return, | |
| When the late hill-winds veer, | |
| And the bright hill-flowers burn | 75 |
| With the reviving year? | |
| |
| When April comes, and the sea | |
| Sparkles as if it smiled, | |
| Will they restore to me | |
| My dark Love, empress and child? | 80 |
| |
| The curtains seem to part; | |
| A sound is on the stair, | |
| As if at the last … I start; | |
| Only the wind is there. | |
| |
| Lo, now far on the hills | 85 |
| The crimson fumes uncurl’d, | |
| Where the caldron mantles and spills | |
| Another dawn on the world! | |
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