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The Dark Eidolon and Other Fantasies Page 34


  And in the cloud-bewildered peaks is pent.

  Her face the light of fallen planets wore,

  But as I gazed, in doubt and wonderment,

  Mine eyes were dazzled, and I saw no more.

  THE STAR-TREADER

  I

  A voice cried to me in a dawn of dreams,

  Saying, “Make haste: the webs of death and birth

  Are brushed away, and all the threads of earth

  Wear to the breaking; spaceward gleams

  5

  Thine ancient pathway of the suns,

  Whose flame is part of thee;

  And the deep gulfs abide coevally

  Whose darkness runs

  Through all thy spirit’s mystery.

  10

  Go forth, and tread unharmed the blaze

  Of stars wherethrough thou camest in old days;

  Pierce without fear each vast

  Whose hugeness crushed thee not within the past.

  A hand strikes off the chains of Time,

  15

  A hand swings back the door of years;

  Now fall earth’s bonds of gladness and of tears,

  And opens the strait dream to space sublime.”

  II

  Who rides a dream, what hand shall stay!

  What eye shall note or measure mete

  20

  His passage on a purpose fleet,

  The thread and weaving of his way!

  It caught me from the clasping world,

  And swept beyond the brink of Sense,

  My soul was flung, and poised, and whirled

  25

  Like to a planet chained and hurled

  With solar lightning strong and tense.

  Swift as communicated rays

  That leap from severed suns a gloom

  Within whose waste no suns illume,

  30

  The wingèd dream fulfilled its ways.

  Through years reversed and lit again

  I followed that unending chain

  Wherein the suns are links of light;

  Retraced through lineal, ordered spheres

  35

  The twisting of the threads of years

  In weavings wrought of noon and night;

  Through stars and deeps I watched the dream unroll,

  Those folds that form the raiment of the soul.

  III

  Enkindling dawns of memory,

  40

  Each sun had radiance to relume

  A sealed, disused, and darkened room

  Within the soul’s immensity.

  Their alien ciphers shown and lit,

  I understood what each had writ

  45

  Upon my spirit’s scroll;

  Again I wore mine ancient lives,

  And knew the freedom and the gyves

  That formed and marked my soul.

  IV

  I delved in each forgotten mind,

  50

  The units that had builded me,

  Whose deepnesses before were blind

  And formless as infinity—

  Knowing again each former world—

  From planet unto planet whirled

  55

  Through gulfs that mightily divide

  Like to an intervital sleep.

  One world I found, where souls abide

  Like winds that rest upon a rose;

  Thereto they creep

  60

  To loose all burden of old woes.

  And one there was, a garden-close

  Whose blooms are grown of ancient sin

  And death the sap that wells and flows:

  The spirits weep that dwell therein.

  65

  And one I knew, where chords of pain

  With stridors fill the Senses’ lyre;

  And one, where Beauty’s olden chain

  Is forged anew with stranger loveliness,

  In flame-soft links of never-quenched desire

  70

  And ineluctable duress.

  V

  Where no terrestrial dreams had trod

  My vision entered undismayed,

  And Life her hidden realms displayed

  To me as to a curious god.

  75

  Where colored suns of systems triplicate

  Bestow on planets weird, ineffable,

  Green light that orbs them like an outer sea,

  And large auroral noons that alternate

  With skies like sunset held without abate,

  80

  Life’s touch renewed incomprehensibly

  The strains of mirth and grief’s harmonious spell.

  Dead passions like to stars relit

  Shone in the gloom of ways forgot;

  Where crownless gods in darkness sit

  85

  The day was full on altars hot.

  I heard—enisled in those melodic seas—

  The central music of the Pleiades,1

  And to Alcyone2 my soul

  Swayed with the stars that own her song’s control.

  90

  Unchallenged, glad, I trod, a revenant

  In worlds Edenic longly lost;

  Or dwelt in spheres that sing to those,

  Through space no light has crossed,

  Diverse as Hell’s mad antiphone uptossed

  95

  To Heaven’s angelic chant.

  VI

  What vasts the dream went out to find!

  I seemed beyond the world’s recall

  In gulfs where darkness is a wall

  To render strong Antares3 blind!

  100

  In unimagined spheres I found

  The sequence of my being’s round—

  Some life where firstling meed of Song,

  The strange imperishable leaf,

  Was placed on brows that starry Grief

  105

  Had crowned, and Pain anointed long;

  Some avatar where Love

  Sang like the last great star at morn

  Ere the pale orb of Death filled all its sky;

  Some life in fresher years unworn

  x

  Upon a world whereof

  Peace was a robe like to the calms that lie

  On pools aglow with latter spring:

  There Time’s pellucid surface took

  Clear image of all things, nor shook

  115

  Till the black cleaving of Oblivion’s wing;

  Some earlier awakening

  In pristine years, when giant strife

  Of forces darkly whirled

  First forged the thing called Life—

  120

  Hot from the furnace of the suns—

  Upon the anvil of a world.

  VII

  Thus knew I those anterior ones

  Whose lives in mine were blent;

  Till, lo! my dream, that held a night

  125

  Where Rigel4 sends no message of his might,

  Was emptied of the trodden stars,

  And dwindled to the sun’s extent—

  The brain’s familiar prison-bars,

  And raiment of the sorrow and the mirth

  130

  Wrought by the shuttles intricate of earth.

  RETROSPECT AND FORECAST

  Turn round, O Life, and know with eyes aghast

  The breast that fed thee—Death, disguiseless, stern:

  Even now, within my mouth, from tomb and urn,

  The dust is sweet. All nurture that thou hast

  5

  Was once as thou, and fed with lips made fast

  On Death, whose sateless mouth it fed in turn.

  Kingdoms abased, and Thrones that starward yearn,

  All are but ghouls that batten on the past.

  Monstrous and dread, must it forever abide,

  10

  This inescapable alternity?

  Must beauty blossom, rooted in decay,
r />   And night devour its flaming hues alway?

  Sickening, will Life not turn eventually,

  Or ravenous Death at last be satisfied?

  NERO

  This Rome, that was the toil of many men,

  The consummation of laborious years—

  Fulfillment’s crown to visions of the dead

  And image of the wide desire of kings—

  5

  Is made my darkling dream’s effulgency,

  Fuel of vision, brief embodiment

  Of wandering will and wastage of the strong

  Fierce ecstasy of one tremendous hour,

  When ages piled on ages like a pyre

  10

  Flamed to the years behind and years to be.

  Yet any sunset were as much as this,

  Save for the music forced from tongueless things,

  The rape of Matter’s huge, unchorded harp

  By the many-fingered fire—a music pierced

  15

  With the tense voice of Life, more quick to cry

  Its agony—and save that I believed

  The radiance redder for the blood of men.

  Destruction hastens and intensifies

  The process that is beauty, manifests

  20

  Ranges of form unknown before, and gives

  Motion, and voice, and hue, where otherwise

  Bleak inexpressiveness had levelled all.

  If one create, there is the lengthy toil;

  The labored years and days league toward an end

  25

  Less than the measure of desire, mayhap,

  After the sure consuming of all strength

  And strain of faculties that otherwhere

  Were loosed upon enjoyment; and at last

  Remains to one capacity nor power

  30

  For pleasure in the thing that he hath made.

  But on destruction hangs but little use

  Of time or faculty, but all is turned

  To the one purpose, unobstructed, pure,

  Of sensuous rapture and observant joy;

  35

  And from the intensities of death and ruin

  One draws a heightened and completer life,

  And both extends and vindicates himself.

  I would I were a god, with all the scope

  Of attributes that are the essential core

  40

  Of godhead, and its visibility.

  I am but emperor, and hold awhile

  The power to hasten death upon its way,

  And cry a halt to worn and lagging Life

  For others, but for mine own self may not

  45

  Delay the one nor bid the other speed.

  There have been many kings, and they are dead,

  And have no power in death save what the wind

  Confers upon their blown and brainless dust

  To vex the eyeballs of posterity.

  50

  But were I God, I would be overlord

  Of many kings, and were as breath to guide

  Their dust of destiny. And were I God,

  Exempt from this mortality which clogs

  Perception and clear exercise of will,

  55

  What rapture it would be, if but to watch

  Destruction crouching at the back of Time,

  The tongueless dooms which dog the travelling suns;

  The vampire, Silence, at the breast of worlds,

  Fire without light that gnaws the base of things,

  60

  And Lethe’s mounting tide that rots the stone

  Of fundamental spheres. This were enough

  Till such time as the dazzled wings of will

  Came up with power’s accession, scarcely felt

  For very suddenness. Then I would urge

  65

  The strong contention and conflicting might

  Of Chaos and Creation—matching them,

  Those immemorial powers inimical,

  And all their stars and gulfs subservient,

  Dynasts of time, and anarchs of the dark—

  70

  In closer war reverseless, and would set

  New discord at the universal core—

  A Samson-principle to bring it down

  In one magnificence of ruin. Yea,

  The monster, Chaos, were mine unleashed hound,

  75

  And all my power Destruction’s own right arm!

  I would exult to mark the smouldering stars

  Renew beneath my breath their elder fire

  And feed upon themselves to nothingness.

  The might of suns—slow-paced with swinging weight

  80

  Of myriad worlds—were made at my desire

  One orb of roaring and torrential light,

  Through which the voice of Life were audible,

  And singing of the immemorial dead,

  Whose dust is loosened into vaporous wings

  85

  With soaring wrack of systems ruinous.

  And were I weary of the glare of these,

  I would tear out the eyes of light, and stand

  Above a chaos of extinguished suns,

  That crowd and grind and shiver thunderously,

  90

  Lending vast voice and motion by no ray

  To the stretched silence of the blinded gulfs.

  Thus would I give my godhead space and speech

  For its assertion, and thus pleasure it,

  Hastening the feet of Time with cast of worlds

  95

  Like careless pebbles, or, with shattered suns,

  Brightening the aspect of Eternity.

  TO THE DAEMON SUBLIMITY

  I wane and weary: come, thou swifter One,

  With vans of ether-sundering instancy,

  Zoned with essential night and sovereignty

  Of flame septuple, strong to blind or stun

  5

  Beyond the bolted levin. Though Earth, undone,

  Fail to thy meteor-fraught epiphany,

  Though Time be as a chasm-riven sea,

  Come thou, and bear me to thy chosen sun.

  Yea, in the fiery fastness of the star

  10

  That thine empyreal wings most often find,

  Thy lordliest eyrie, lone in gulf and gloom,

  Leave me and lose me, safe from wasting war

  Of finite things unworthy, and resigned

  To some apotheosis of bright doom.

  AVERTED MALEFICE

  Where mandrakes, crying from the moonless fen,

  Told how a witch, with eyes of owl or bat,

  Found, and each root maleficently fat

  Pulled for her waiting cauldron, on my ken

  5

  Upstole, escaping to the world of men,

  A vapor as of some infernal vat;

  Across the stars it clomb, and caught thereat

  As if their bright regard to veil again.

  Despite the web, methought they knew, appalled,

  10

  The stealthier weft in which all sound was still. . . .

  Then sprang, as if the night found breath anew,

  A wind whereby the stars were disenthralled. . . .

  Far off, I heard the cry of frustrate ill,

  A witch that wailed above her curdled brew.

  THE ELDRITCH DARK

  Now as the twilight’s doubtful interval

  Closes with night’s accomplished certainty,

  A wizard wind goes crying eerily,

  And on the wold misshapen shadows crawl,

  5

  Miming the trees, whose voices climb and fall,

  Imploring, in Sabbatic ecstasy,

  The sky where vapor-mounted phantoms flee

  From the scythed moon impendent over all.

  Twin veils of covering cloud and silence, thrown

  10

  Across the movement and th
e sound of things,

  Make blank the night, till in the broken west

  The moon’s ensanguined blade awhile is shown. . . .

  The night grows whole again. . . . The shadows rest,

  Gathered beneath a greater shadow’s wings.

  SHADOW OF NIGHTMARE

  What gulf-ascended hand is this, that grips

  My spirit as with chains, and from the sound

  And light of dreamland, draws me to the bound

  Where darkness waits with wide, expectant lips?

  5

  Albeit thereat my footing holds, nor slips,

  The night-born menace and the fear confound

  All days and hours of gladness, girt around

  With sense of near, unswervable eclipse.

  So lies a land whose noon is plagued with whirr

  10

  Of bats, than their own shadows swarthier,

  That trace their passing upon white abodes,

  Wherein from court to court, from room to room,

  In hieroglyphics of abhorrent doom,

  Is trailed the slime of slowly crawling toads.

  SATAN UNREPENTANT

  Lost from those archangelic thrones that star,

  Fadeless and fixed, heaven’s light of azure bliss;

  Forbanned of all His splendor and depressed

  Beyond the birth of the first sun, and lower

  5

  Than the last star’s decline, I still endure,

  Abased, majestic, fallen, beautiful,

  And unregretful in the doubted dark,

  Throneless, that greatens chaos-ward, albeit

  From chanting stars that throng the nave of night

  10

  Lost echoes wander here, and of His praise

  With ringing moons for cymbals dinned afar,

  And shouted from the flaming mouths of suns.

  The shadows of impalpable blank deeps—

  Deep upon deep accumulate—close down,

  15

  Around my head concentered, while above,

  In the lit, loftier blue, star after star

  Spins endless orbits betwixt me and heaven;

  And at my feet mysterious Chaos breaks,

  Abrupt, immeasurable. Round His throne

  20

  Throbs now the rhythmic resonance of suns,

  Incessant, perfect, music infinite:

  I, throneless, hear the discords of the dark,

  And roar of ruin uncreate, than which

  Some vast cacophony of dragons, heard

  25

  In wasted worlds, were purer melody.

  The universe His tyranny constrains

  Turns on: in old and consummated gulfs

  The stars that wield His judgement wait at hand,

  And in new deeps Apocalyptic suns

  30

  Prepare His coming: lo, His mighty whim

  To rear and mar, goes forth enormously