George William Russell

I am the heartbreak over fallen things, The sudden gentleness that stays the blow, And I am in the kiss that foemen give Pausing in battle, and in the tears that fall Over the vanquished foe, and in the highest; Among the Danaan gods, I am …

I can enchant the trees and rocks, and fill The dumb brown lips of earth with mystery, Make them reveal or hide the god. I breathe A deeper pity than all love, myself Mother of all, but without hands to heal: Too vast and vague, they know …

I am the tender voice calling 'Away,' Whispering between the beatings of the heart, And inaccessible in dewy eyes I dwell, and all unkissed on lovely lips, Lingering between white breasts inviolate, And fleeting ever from the passionate …

Each dream remembered is a burning-glass, Where through to darkness from the Light of Lights Its rays in splendour pass.

In day from some titanic past it seems As if a thread divine of memory runs; Born ere the Mighty One began his dreams, Or yet were stars and suns.

Still as the holy of holies breathes the vast Within its crystal depths the stars grow dim; Fire on the altar of the hills at last Burns on the shadowy rim. Moments that holds all moments; white upon The verge it trembles; then like mists …

Heart-hidden from the outer things I rose; The spirit woke anew in nightly birth Unto the vastness where forever glows The star-soul of the earth. There all alone in primal ecstasy, Within her depths where revels never tire,

Only in clouds and dreams I felt those souls In the abyss, each fire hid in its clod, From which in clouds and dreams the spirit rolls Into the vast of God.

Sacred thy laughter on the air, Holy thy lightest word that fell, Proud the innumerable hair That waved at the enchanter's spell. Oh Master of the Beautiful, Creating us from hour to hour,

Silence and coolness now the earth enfold

He has built his monument With the winds of time at strife, Who could have before he went Written in the book of life. To the stars from which he came Empty handed he goes home;

Well, when all is said and done Best within my narrow way, May some angel of the sun Muse memorial o'er my clay: 'Here was beauty all betrayed From the freedom of her state;

On the laugh of a child I am borne to the joy of the King.

Of the Earth, of the Mother, my heart with her heart in accord: As I lie mid the cool green tresses that mantle her breast I begin with the grass once again to be bound to the Lord.

The offerings arise: Hazes of rainbow light, Pure crystal, blue, and gold, Through dreamland take their flight; And 'mid the sacrifice God moveth as of old.

Search for the high austere and lonely way The Spirit moves in through eternities. Ah, in the soul what memories arise! And with what yearning inexpressible, Rising from long forgetfulness I turn To Thee, invisible, unrumoured, still:

It was the wise all-seeing soul Who counselled neither war nor peace: 'Only be thou thyself that goal In which the wars of time shall cease.'

It was the warrior within Who called 'Awake, prepare for fight: Yet lose not memory in the din: Make of thy gentleness thy might: 'Make of thy silence words to shake The long-enthroned kings of earth:

It was the fairy of the place, Moving within a little light, Who touched with dim and shadowy grace The conflict at its fever height. It seemed to whisper 'Quietness,' Then quietly itself was gone:

Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw, From the olden fountain more than light or peace or dream, Such primeval being as o'erfills the heart with awe, Growing one with its silent stream.

When the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies, All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow, and silver gleam, With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes; I am one with the twilight's dream.

Age is no more near than youth To the sceptre and the crown. Vain the wisdom, vain the truth; Do not lay thy rapture down.

Though the dream of love may tire, In the ages long agone There were ruby hearts of fire — Ah, the daughters of the dawn!

Oh, I am so old, meseems I am next of kin to Time, The historian of her dreams From the long forgotten prime.