The rosy mist stilly polishes the round mirror,
The moon;
Golden her face
The moon;
Golden her face
Reflecting the cool sweet glory of a
Baby sun
When dangling
Baby sun
When dangling
His short golden arms in the cradle of the sky
After night
Gave him birth,
After night
Gave him birth,
And herself died as day dies to see the moon,
This golden
Rose-washed stone
This golden
Rose-washed stone
That the unseen hand puts on the crown of night
Beside it puts
Bits of white—
Beside it puts
Bits of white—
The star-jewels like million fancies, worshipping
The goddess
Of dream.
The goddess
Of dream.
48
The sun's golden spear,
The violet cloud writhing in pain;
Golden the tint of the sky,
The tall trees wave their green-gold hair.
The violet cloud writhing in pain;
Golden the tint of the sky,
The tall trees wave their green-gold hair.
Music of this hour!
The zephyr's perfume-laden argosy
Drifts with the song of lutes
Down the sunset-stream that falls from heaven's bower.
The zephyr's perfume-laden argosy
Drifts with the song of lutes
Down the sunset-stream that falls from heaven's bower.
Another flow of light,
Tinkling like the intangible bells of paradise,
Flows out of my heart
Into the mysterious love-perfumed ocean of night.
Tinkling like the intangible bells of paradise,
Flows out of my heart
Into the mysterious love-perfumed ocean of night.
49
TRUCE
A field of battle—this sky,
The sun, the hero bleeding to death;
The shadows and lights hurl their
Hosts of clouds ceaselessly:
No peace?
Warfare all?
Nay, lo! she cometh—
The Spirit of Truce,
The Evening Star!
The sun, the hero bleeding to death;
The shadows and lights hurl their
Hosts of clouds ceaselessly:
No peace?
Warfare all?
Nay, lo! she cometh—
The Spirit of Truce,
The Evening Star!
50
A PARALLEL
Time has passed, since
Shadows trembled to watch
Twilight sweep the earth
For the phantoms to trip and mince.
Shadows trembled to watch
Twilight sweep the earth
For the phantoms to trip and mince.
A dark breeze the forest-heart stirs;
Yet merry the face of the sky—
Twinkling in joy
Its innumerable eyes, the stars.
Yet merry the face of the sky—
Twinkling in joy
Its innumerable eyes, the stars.
Hushed the music within;
Pleasure's silver laugh, dead;
Thought lost in reverie—
Reverie receding into nothing.
Pleasure's silver laugh, dead;
Thought lost in reverie—
Reverie receding into nothing.
The taper of dreams flickers
Out, leaving the soul in dusk
By the altar of love,
Flower-laden as the night with stars.
Out, leaving the soul in dusk
By the altar of love,
Flower-laden as the night with stars.
51
"Nothing endures," you said;
"None can die," quoth love;
"In the firmament of loving
No stars set, no meteors fall."
"None can die," quoth love;
"In the firmament of loving
No stars set, no meteors fall."
Yet, nothing endures, nothing,
Naught but dust;
Naught but regret and vain desire
The twin monuments of life,
Naught but dust;
Naught but regret and vain desire
The twin monuments of life,
Reared by time, by wrecking
All that we seek and find.
Its relentless waves of years
Break even the impregnable wall of memory
That thought builds
On the embankment of hope.
All that we seek and find.
Its relentless waves of years
Break even the impregnable wall of memory
That thought builds
On the embankment of hope.
Pass all away, even we who loved,
Dreamt as none dreamt before—
Borne by the tide of life—
But, lo! from our defeated destiny
Rise our seeds reared by time
Consecrated to love and living!
Dreamt as none dreamt before—
Borne by the tide of life—
But, lo! from our defeated destiny
Rise our seeds reared by time
Consecrated to love and living!
52
DISAPPOINTMENT
They think thee bitter:
Thou art not made o' laughter
Nor love's smile
Can thy vision beguile:
Like a black-fiery comet
Suddenly, sinisterly, thou comest;
Making thy fateful journey,
Littering the floor of destiny
With wreckages of life,
Of love, of heart—
Of all visitors thou art the surest;
Halting nowhere long, endlessly passest,
Dragging behind thee thy train of fire
That burneth all, heedless of curse or prayer.
Thou art not made o' laughter
Nor love's smile
Can thy vision beguile:
Like a black-fiery comet
Suddenly, sinisterly, thou comest;
Making thy fateful journey,
Littering the floor of destiny
With wreckages of life,
Of love, of heart—
Of all visitors thou art the surest;
Halting nowhere long, endlessly passest,
Dragging behind thee thy train of fire
That burneth all, heedless of curse or prayer.
53
BUDDHA
On thy Lotus-seat of Night,—
Meditation closing thy eyes,—
The Star Hosts thy awe-struck devotees:
The Moon, thy halo unchanging.
White-robed time telling his beads
Of aeons on the thread of Eternity
By the ocean of space
Slumbering in peace at thy feet;
While Destiny stringing the lyre of death
Sings Nirvana's hymn.
Meditation closing thy eyes,—
The Star Hosts thy awe-struck devotees:
The Moon, thy halo unchanging.
White-robed time telling his beads
Of aeons on the thread of Eternity
By the ocean of space
Slumbering in peace at thy feet;
While Destiny stringing the lyre of death
Sings Nirvana's hymn.
54
Ask me not to stand at thy friendship's gate—
I, who loved thee, now must like a cold spectre from a far forgotten land of snow
Watch thee fall asleep on the couch of freezing friendship?
In these arms thou sought and joyed on many delights
Excavated the ruins of passion to build them anew,
Or sailed on thy wings—these arms—over love's enchanted sea.
Friendship!
Barrier not this, but a coward's refuge—
A shadow, not the rainbow-light of loving and life.
O come, my pilot, conduct the bark of our twin souls
From cold friendship's haven
Over love's boistrous desire-foam-fringéd ocean
Till in the sheer joy and fatigue of flying
We fail, fall and fade
Into the heart of Passion's another fire-born day.
I, who loved thee, now must like a cold spectre from a far forgotten land of snow
Watch thee fall asleep on the couch of freezing friendship?
In these arms thou sought and joyed on many delights
Excavated the ruins of passion to build them anew,
Or sailed on thy wings—these arms—over love's enchanted sea.
Friendship!
Barrier not this, but a coward's refuge—
A shadow, not the rainbow-light of loving and life.
O come, my pilot, conduct the bark of our twin souls
From cold friendship's haven
Over love's boistrous desire-foam-fringéd ocean
Till in the sheer joy and fatigue of flying
We fail, fall and fade
Into the heart of Passion's another fire-born day.
55
Golden vines they,
These thin lines of light,
Climbing the sky-wall
After the sun sank into sleep.
These thin lines of light,
Climbing the sky-wall
After the sun sank into sleep.
Like rills, thread-like,
Seen from a jutting rock
Where air is dizzy
And fancy infinite, free.
Seen from a jutting rock
Where air is dizzy
And fancy infinite, free.
What fiery wine
Tingles in these vines
Weaving golden arabesques
On the pale evening sky?
Tingles in these vines
Weaving golden arabesques
On the pale evening sky?
Ah, the heavens this hour
Have drunk of sunset's ruby Wine
For those golden cobwebs to weave
Their magic of twilight dreams.
Have drunk of sunset's ruby Wine
For those golden cobwebs to weave
Their magic of twilight dreams.
56
AT SUNDOWN
Two shadows fell, tremulous and frail,
From the upland over the lake-surface pale,
While the shivering reeds shook at sunset,
As the swans sailed into a sea of jet.
From the upland over the lake-surface pale,
While the shivering reeds shook at sunset,
As the swans sailed into a sea of jet.
The rippling waters, and the breeze,
And the shadows that fall from the trees,
Mingled and melted with the twain,
A song of whitewashed away by its black refrain.
And the shadows that fall from the trees,
Mingled and melted with the twain,
A song of whitewashed away by its black refrain.
Only words remained, palpitating and few,
Falling through the gloom and night's dew
Like jewelled fancies rising out of a dream
That live for a moment and die ere they gleam.
Falling through the gloom and night's dew
Like jewelled fancies rising out of a dream
That live for a moment and die ere they gleam.
57
Tears well out from my heart,
As clouds overcast my soul,
And blur my vision of thee.
As clouds overcast my soul,
And blur my vision of thee.
Melancholy this dawn,
When thy smile and words,
And thy sky-shaming eyes
Are not beside me to rouse me from sleep.
When thy smile and words,
And thy sky-shaming eyes
Are not beside me to rouse me from sleep.
Though cry I without end,
Yet a thought of thee heals many wounds,
Why? thou ask me; how can I tell?
Yet a thought of thee heals many wounds,
Why? thou ask me; how can I tell?
All thou wish to take is thine;
Not even the dust of thy feet I seek,
Only leave me the star of thy memory
To bathe in the rain of my weeping.
Not even the dust of thy feet I seek,
Only leave me the star of thy memory
To bathe in the rain of my weeping.
58
At last thou comest;
Thy footsteps I hear across the ages,
Over wandering fancies,
Through shadows of dreams
Is thy coming, Queen of queens.
Thy footsteps I hear across the ages,
Over wandering fancies,
Through shadows of dreams
Is thy coming, Queen of queens.
This shimmering summer of life
That thou bringest with thee
As a gift to my silent waiting
Is but what I prayed to bring
To the altar of thy coming.
That thou bringest with thee
As a gift to my silent waiting
Is but what I prayed to bring
To the altar of thy coming.
I spread the seat of my soul,
For thee to rest thy tired limbs;
And wave the fan of my heart
To cool thy lotus-shaming face,
Lady of light, queen of grace.
For thee to rest thy tired limbs;
And wave the fan of my heart
To cool thy lotus-shaming face,
Lady of light, queen of grace.
Come to my bower of worship,
Where burns the incense of devotion,
Lay thy rose-robed body
In the shrine of my longing,
Where love's rainbow-songs are ringing.
Where burns the incense of devotion,
Lay thy rose-robed body
In the shrine of my longing,
Where love's rainbow-songs are ringing.
59
The lingering light of the sun
Takes from the chalice of the valley
Its mist-perfume to wash the
Moon-face with rose.
In the pool at my feet the goldfishes drag their trains of brown
Which cleave it into parts that ceaselessly mingle anew.
The moon, silver bright
Through thousand streams sends her light
Into the valley aswoon, listening to the harmony of night.
Takes from the chalice of the valley
Its mist-perfume to wash the
Moon-face with rose.
In the pool at my feet the goldfishes drag their trains of brown
Which cleave it into parts that ceaselessly mingle anew.
The moon, silver bright
Through thousand streams sends her light
Into the valley aswoon, listening to the harmony of night.
60
I have drunk your tears with insatiate lips;
I have broken like a toy the heart of your life;
What have I given? your last query!
The cup of my heart filled I with love;
The chalice of soul with the substance of my God,
For thee to drink my life's first love.
Thou drankest as one that comes from a desert,
Thou spiltest the nectar heedless, like mad;
Yet I cursed not, nor shed tears;
But loved thee, longed to live for thy love.
Alas! thy tears grew salt, thy love thy self's greedy grasp,—
O, it is the end; let us part!
The morning of indifference wings the gray sky;
The bird-song of the other dawns the raven's shriek now,—
Shed no more tears, I tire of my drink;
Break not thy heart; thy soul? Let it be still!
Beyond the gray-cloud is the land of sunrise:
Let us part, dear, let us be wise.
I have broken like a toy the heart of your life;
What have I given? your last query!
The cup of my heart filled I with love;
The chalice of soul with the substance of my God,
For thee to drink my life's first love.
Thou drankest as one that comes from a desert,
Thou spiltest the nectar heedless, like mad;
Yet I cursed not, nor shed tears;
But loved thee, longed to live for thy love.
Alas! thy tears grew salt, thy love thy self's greedy grasp,—
O, it is the end; let us part!
The morning of indifference wings the gray sky;
The bird-song of the other dawns the raven's shriek now,—
Shed no more tears, I tire of my drink;
Break not thy heart; thy soul? Let it be still!
Beyond the gray-cloud is the land of sunrise:
Let us part, dear, let us be wise.
61
SOUND BUTTERFLIES
(IN A FOUNTAIN)
Like interpenetrating bells of silver,
The water-drops ring and melt
Into new drops, like new notes
From an untiring lyre,
That in colored succession
Paint our heart-beats
From the gold of sunrise into sunset fire;
Yet, not like that, this brush of water-drops
Limns on the silver rim of Joy
The dark Butterflies of Desire.
The water-drops ring and melt
Into new drops, like new notes
From an untiring lyre,
That in colored succession
Paint our heart-beats
From the gold of sunrise into sunset fire;
Yet, not like that, this brush of water-drops
Limns on the silver rim of Joy
The dark Butterflies of Desire.
62
Even in sadness thou art beside me,
In gladness, none so happy as thee;
I love thee;
May my love kiss the feet of thy love of me.
In gladness, none so happy as thee;
I love thee;
May my love kiss the feet of thy love of me.
My dreams are thine, day or night,
My sleep sings in silence to the night
Of thy delight;
May thy heart's gifts like stars my heart's heaven bedight!
My sleep sings in silence to the night
Of thy delight;
May thy heart's gifts like stars my heart's heaven bedight!
Though a sigh rises in my soul this hour;
Closes its petals in the west the golden day-flower;
In my bower
Let thy love pour its rainbow shower.
Closes its petals in the west the golden day-flower;
In my bower
Let thy love pour its rainbow shower.
63
By the sea of sleep walks white-robed Night;
The breeze but the faint rustle of her drapery
That calls the mist-made bark of dream
From the cavern of the Unknown to sail to us,
Laden with endless star-like fancies.
And She! the magician, walks on and on
Over the sapphire embankment of the sky
Like a moving magnet drawing behind her a million dream-argosies.
The breeze but the faint rustle of her drapery
That calls the mist-made bark of dream
From the cavern of the Unknown to sail to us,
Laden with endless star-like fancies.
And She! the magician, walks on and on
Over the sapphire embankment of the sky
Like a moving magnet drawing behind her a million dream-argosies.
64
FAREWELL
(AFTER A HINDUSTANI SONG)
Farewell, fairest of loves!
Life's most fanciful of gifts,
Joy and treasure, love and wonder,
Waking's elusive reality,
Dream's ever-yielding divinity.
Even thou must pass
Beyond time's starless bar:
Thy eyes, their lambent flames
Shall no more illumine my night;
Nor thy brow, home of many moods,
Tranquil yet tormented as a sea,
Shall ever wear the coronal of my kiss.
Ah, kisses! blisses of fire,
Passion's long lingering melody
Played by thy lips on mine.
Even they must die—
Intangible realities of rapture,
Ever present wonders of desire—
Now like autumn leaves
Fly with the west-wind of fear.
No, not fear that takes thee from me,
Nor love's slayer, satiety;
Yet art gone; thou art going.
Oh, not to crush thy heart on mine:
Thy breasts made but for my hands,
No more to quiver in rapture therein!
Who wills this cruel decree?
The warmth of thy body,
The staggering storm of thy yielding,
The intoxicating perfume of thy mouth:
These, and many other endless
Viols and lutes of passion, love, life,
Delights of a thousand heavens,
Who robs them of me?
Fate! that fool in the court of love,
Who hath no wit for laughter,
Steals it all from me
In the mid-hour of life;
And as it befits his mind,
Scatters it all over the turbid
Stream of fear and lies.
Life's most fanciful of gifts,
Joy and treasure, love and wonder,
Waking's elusive reality,
Dream's ever-yielding divinity.
Even thou must pass
Beyond time's starless bar:
Thy eyes, their lambent flames
Shall no more illumine my night;
Nor thy brow, home of many moods,
Tranquil yet tormented as a sea,
Shall ever wear the coronal of my kiss.
Ah, kisses! blisses of fire,
Passion's long lingering melody
Played by thy lips on mine.
Even they must die—
Intangible realities of rapture,
Ever present wonders of desire—
Now like autumn leaves
Fly with the west-wind of fear.
No, not fear that takes thee from me,
Nor love's slayer, satiety;
Yet art gone; thou art going.
Oh, not to crush thy heart on mine:
Thy breasts made but for my hands,
No more to quiver in rapture therein!
Who wills this cruel decree?
The warmth of thy body,
The staggering storm of thy yielding,
The intoxicating perfume of thy mouth:
These, and many other endless
Viols and lutes of passion, love, life,
Delights of a thousand heavens,
Who robs them of me?
Fate! that fool in the court of love,
Who hath no wit for laughter,
Steals it all from me
In the mid-hour of life;
And as it befits his mind,
Scatters it all over the turbid
Stream of fear and lies.
65
SATIETY
All thy gifts must die,
All thy thoughts must fail;
Such were the decree writ by time
With shadows on the scroll of fate.
Even thy memory recedes into forgetting,
Thy lustrous words star-like set,
Ah, sweet! autumn's breath withers all,
Even the west-wind fears to tread.
All yield to the power of relentless time
That no love nor passion can stay,
Blown like dried leaves we now
On the granite pavement of fate.
No more thy lip-touch on my brow,
Nor thy hands pleading caresses,
Thy gifts fall and fade into nothing,
Thy vision grows dim in life's sunset-west.
All thy thoughts must fail;
Such were the decree writ by time
With shadows on the scroll of fate.
Even thy memory recedes into forgetting,
Thy lustrous words star-like set,
Ah, sweet! autumn's breath withers all,
Even the west-wind fears to tread.
All yield to the power of relentless time
That no love nor passion can stay,
Blown like dried leaves we now
On the granite pavement of fate.
No more thy lip-touch on my brow,
Nor thy hands pleading caresses,
Thy gifts fall and fade into nothing,
Thy vision grows dim in life's sunset-west.
66
Drowsy the noonday air,
Under the trees the still shadow
Like a fugitive fragment of night
Seeks shelter from the sun.
Under the trees the still shadow
Like a fugitive fragment of night
Seeks shelter from the sun.
The bird has ceased singing,
The beggar unable to bear
The wealth of the sun
Spreads his torn garment,
The beggar unable to bear
The wealth of the sun
Spreads his torn garment,
To find peace in
The benign shadow of sleep.
Ah, lone soul like him,
I spread this rag of my song.
The benign shadow of sleep.
Ah, lone soul like him,
I spread this rag of my song.
Under the tree of life
Over which blazes the sun of fate.
The calm of its shadow
Protects me, but where my peace?
Over which blazes the sun of fate.
The calm of its shadow
Protects me, but where my peace?
67
CHATTERTON
For summers seventeen
This flower of spring
Scattered fragrance
That dwelt in its petals seventeen.
Seventeen song-hours,
A heart never weary;
A soul with honey of all flowers
A song as enchanting as stars.
This flower of spring
Scattered fragrance
That dwelt in its petals seventeen.
Seventeen song-hours,
A heart never weary;
A soul with honey of all flowers
A song as enchanting as stars.
A boy never grown old,
A lute never tiring to sing,
A mind ne'er chilled
Though Hunger's hand lay cold.
A lute never tiring to sing,
A mind ne'er chilled
Though Hunger's hand lay cold.
Steely-cold on his breast,
Yet the boy sang;
Loved as alone a poet can
Endlessly, without rest.
Just seventeen!
Ne'er old, though time passes;
A golden lyre-string
Has not yet ceased ringing:
Yet the boy sang;
Loved as alone a poet can
Endlessly, without rest.
Just seventeen!
Ne'er old, though time passes;
A golden lyre-string
Has not yet ceased ringing:
Rings through the heart of time
O'er the summit of death
To the music of the Nine
Into the heart of Eternal Rhyme.
O'er the summit of death
To the music of the Nine
Into the heart of Eternal Rhyme.
68
A summer song it was,
Counting of many unseen stars
In an intangible sky
Making new milky ways—
Silver-shadow-paths that lead
From sapphire abysses
Into deeper abysses still.
The deeps of our souls
Lit by passion's burning flowers
Tremulous, timorous flames of silver,
That with thousand hands
Our hearts sought to pluck and scatter,
Or make barbéd garlands
For love's nuptial hour.
Nuptial hour, briefer than a moment,
Longer than Heaven's Eternal summer,
When each flower burns to soothe,
And each soothing petal burns anew;
Till myriad streams of fire
Strewn with countless flaming stars
Bear us to the far sea of Time
Where no summer dies,
Nor endure the stinging moments of love's winter.
Counting of many unseen stars
In an intangible sky
Making new milky ways—
Silver-shadow-paths that lead
From sapphire abysses
Into deeper abysses still.
The deeps of our souls
Lit by passion's burning flowers
Tremulous, timorous flames of silver,
That with thousand hands
Our hearts sought to pluck and scatter,
Or make barbéd garlands
For love's nuptial hour.
Nuptial hour, briefer than a moment,
Longer than Heaven's Eternal summer,
When each flower burns to soothe,
And each soothing petal burns anew;
Till myriad streams of fire
Strewn with countless flaming stars
Bear us to the far sea of Time
Where no summer dies,
Nor endure the stinging moments of love's winter.
69
"WHO KNOWS"
Time's torment,
Life's woes,
And sorrow's wan gaze
Are but shades
In a picture of light
Where nothing abides,
All things fade.
In fading there is beauty,
By shedding tears
We bathe our hearts—
Those crushed flowers full of smart—
For a deity not far from our souls.
Yet, no solace in prayer,
Pain has no largess;
Dark has stars,
But no barren earth its flowers.
All are dismal and fallow;
Yet, from the mountain's stony heart
Spring multitudinous rivers
Sparkling at dawn, and
Deepening night's gloom with mysterious murmurs;
And who knows?
These streams that pass
By the balcony of our past,
Through present's wilderness,
Into desolate future
May reach the land of the farthest star.
Who knows? Ah! who knows?
May these song-rills
From my heart's little hill
Empty their singing waters
Into a sea of song-making
Where nothing endures
But the sound and echo of singing.
Where sound, and echo are one,
A moonset vale of sunset land,
Where light is wedded to shade
Without death, full of dying, yet not dead.
Life's woes,
And sorrow's wan gaze
Are but shades
In a picture of light
Where nothing abides,
All things fade.
In fading there is beauty,
By shedding tears
We bathe our hearts—
Those crushed flowers full of smart—
For a deity not far from our souls.
Yet, no solace in prayer,
Pain has no largess;
Dark has stars,
But no barren earth its flowers.
All are dismal and fallow;
Yet, from the mountain's stony heart
Spring multitudinous rivers
Sparkling at dawn, and
Deepening night's gloom with mysterious murmurs;
And who knows?
These streams that pass
By the balcony of our past,
Through present's wilderness,
Into desolate future
May reach the land of the farthest star.
Who knows? Ah! who knows?
May these song-rills
From my heart's little hill
Empty their singing waters
Into a sea of song-making
Where nothing endures
But the sound and echo of singing.
Where sound, and echo are one,
A moonset vale of sunset land,
Where light is wedded to shade
Without death, full of dying, yet not dead.
70
THE FIRST VISION
The impenetrable dark—
Darkness of cloud and night
Coming on black silent wings
Surround me in their folds,
As it sits by my side on the shore of time.
Darkness of cloud and night
Coming on black silent wings
Surround me in their folds,
As it sits by my side on the shore of time.
No fear, no sorrow, no hope,
Not even the footfall of a star;
Dim, deep sable tones
Rise from the organ of nothing
With its flats and sharps of clouds and night.
Not even the footfall of a star;
Dim, deep sable tones
Rise from the organ of nothing
With its flats and sharps of clouds and night.
Ripples of moments
Waves of hours and years
Break on the shore of space
To speak vague, soundless words
To my soul, alone, shade among shades.
Waves of hours and years
Break on the shore of space
To speak vague, soundless words
To my soul, alone, shade among shades.
Not even the unheard whisper
Of the shadow of a breeze,
But silence ponderous, peaceful,
Afraid of its own self
A mute hound at my feet.
Of the shadow of a breeze,
But silence ponderous, peaceful,
Afraid of its own self
A mute hound at my feet.
Who art thou?
Whom do I know in this emptiness?
Who has lived with me?
And called me from the deeps of time?
Whom do I know in this emptiness?
Who has lived with me?
And called me from the deeps of time?
Recedes the bank of space;
Fades away even the unfilled time,
No light, no sound, not even a dream;
Yet who speaks through silence?
Who plays this music of night?
Fades away even the unfilled time,
No light, no sound, not even a dream;
Yet who speaks through silence?
Who plays this music of night?
Like an intangible river it flows
With waves of shadow-sound
Between banks of mountainous silence—
O, who! who are you?
Light in a world of shadows,
Rainbow among sunless clouds,
Bark of song on this sea of silence,
O ferryman of the soul!
O Word on Infinite's scroll.
With waves of shadow-sound
Between banks of mountainous silence—
O, who! who are you?
Light in a world of shadows,
Rainbow among sunless clouds,
Bark of song on this sea of silence,
O ferryman of the soul!
O Word on Infinite's scroll.
71
SHANTI[5]
Sleep shadows, sleep light;
Sleep tune, sleep speech;
Sleep night, sleep day;
Sleep children in the cradle of rest.
Sleep tune, sleep speech;
Sleep night, sleep day;
Sleep children in the cradle of rest.
Dream stars, dream moon;
Dream sea; dream O, sun;
Dream rainbow, dream storm;
Dream rain, O, milk from Heaven's breast.
Dream sea; dream O, sun;
Dream rainbow, dream storm;
Dream rain, O, milk from Heaven's breast.
Rest ye feet, rest ye hands;
Rest bleeding hours of even;
Rest O, heart torn and burnt,
Rest my fancies, day is done.
Rest bleeding hours of even;
Rest O, heart torn and burnt,
Rest my fancies, day is done.
Sleep night, sleep with star-eyes closed;
Sleep sorrow in death's silent repose;
Sleep O, Soul, be it twilight or morn;
Sleep thou too, O, sleep, heedless of moon and sun.
Sleep sorrow in death's silent repose;
Sleep O, Soul, be it twilight or morn;
Sleep thou too, O, sleep, heedless of moon and sun.
[5] Shanti is the Sanskrit for "Peace."
ERRATA
Page 17, lines 6 and 7 should read as follows:
Yet its mighty thrall
Holds me, haunts me
Holds me, haunts me