The Lover

I was not with the rest at play; My brothers laughed in joyous mood: But I—I wandered far away Into the fair and silent wood; And with the trees and flowers I stood, As dumb and full of dreams as they: —For One it seemed my whole heart knew, Or One my heart had known long since, Was peeping at me through the dew; And with bright laughter seemed to woo My beauty, like a Fairy prince.

Oh, what a soft enchantment filled The lonely paths and places dim! It was as though the whole wood thrilled, And a dumb joy, because of him, Weighed down the lilies tall and slim, And made the roses blush, and stilled The great wild voices in half fear: It was as though his smile did hold All things in trances manifold; And in each place as he drew near The leaves were touched and turned to gold.

And well I seemed to know, the while, It was for me and for my sake, He wrought that magic with his smile, And set the unseen spells to make The lonely ways I loved to take So full of sweetness, to beguile My heart and keep me there for hours; And sometimes I was sure he lay Beside me hid among the flowers, Or climbed above me, and in play Shook down the white tree-bloom in showers.

But more and more he seemed to seek My heart: till, dreaming of all this, I thought one day to hear him speak, Or feel, indeed, his sudden kiss Bind me to some great unknown bliss: Then there would stay upon my cheek Full many a light and honied stain, That told indeed how I had lain Deep in the flowery banks all day; And round me too there would remain Some strange wood-blossom’s scent alway.

’Twas not the bright and fond deceit Of that first summer,—whose great bloom Quite overcame me with its sweet, And seemed to fill me and consume My very brain with its perfume;— ’Twas no false spell made my heart beat With such a joy to be alone With all the bloom and all the scent: It was a thing I dared not own, Already whispered there and known, Already with my whole life blent.

It was this secret, vast, sublime, Too full of wonder to be told— Whose extreme rapture from that time Doth ever more and more enfold My spirit, like a robe of gold, Or, as it were, the magic clime Of some fair heaven about me shed— Wherein are songs of unseen birds, And whispers of delicious words More sweet than any man hath said Of all the living or the dead.

—O, the incomparable love Of him, my Lover!—O, to tell Its way and measure were above The throbbing chords of speech that swell Within me!—Doth it not excel All other, sung or written of? Yea now, O all ye fair mankind— Consider well the gracious line Of those your lovers; call to mind Their love of you, and ye shall find Not one among them all like mine.

It seems as though, from calm to calm, A whole fair age had passed me by, Since first this Lover, through a charm Of flowers, wooed so tenderly, I had no fear of drawing nigh, Nor knew, indeed, that—with an arm Closed round and holding me—he led My eager way from sight to sight Of all the summer magic—right To where himself had surely spread Some pleasant snare for my delight.

And now, in an eternal sphere, Beneath one flooding look of his— Wherein, all beautiful and dear, That endless melting gold that is His love, with flawless memories Grows ever richer and more clear— My life seems held, as some faint star Beneath its sun: and through the far Celestial distances for miles, To where vast mirage futures are, I trace the gilding of his smiles.

And, in the long enthralling dream, That, ever—through each purer zone Of love translating me—doth seem To bring my spirit near his own, I hear the veiled angelic tone Of many voices; as I deem, Assuring me of something sweet, And strange, and wondrous, and intense; Which thing they evermore repeat In fair half parables, from whence I draw a vague all-blissful sense.

For, one by one, e’en as I rise, And feel the pure Ethereal Refining all before my eyes: Whole beauteous worlds material Are seen to enter gradual The great transparent paradise Of this my dream; and, all revealed, To break upon me more and more Their inward singing souls, and yield A wondrous secret half concealed In all their loveliness before.

And so, when, through unmeasured days, The far effulgence of the sea Is holding me in long amaze, And stealing with strange ecstasy My heart all opened silently;— There reach me, from among the sprays, Ineffable faint words that sing Within me,—how, for me alone, One who is lover—who is King, Hath dropt, as ’twere a precious stone, That sea—a symbol of his throne.

And now, indeed, some precious time It hath,—all inexpressible! All rapture!—yea, through many a rhyme Of wordless speech made fairly well, And beauteous worlds’ whole visible Unbosomings of love sublime— It hath some blessèd while become Familiar, how all things take part For him to whose love I am come, And in their ways—not weak nor dumb— Are ever calling on my heart.

And, through the long charmed solitude Of throbbing moments, whose strong link Is one delicious hope pursued From trance to trance, the while I think And know myself upon the brink Of His eternal kiss,—endued With part of him, the very wind Hath power to ravish me in sips Or long mad wooings that unbind My hair,—wherein I truly find The magic of his unseen lips.

And, so almighty is the thrill I feel at many a faintest breath Or stir of sound—as ’twere a rill Of joy traversing me, or death Dissolving all that hindereth My thought from power to fulfil Some new embodiment of bliss,— I do consume with the immense Delight as of some secret kiss, And am become like one whose sense Is used with raptures too intense!

O like some soft insidious breath, Whose first invasion winneth quite To all its madness or its death The heart, resisting not the might And poison of its new delight,— E’en so is this that entereth In whispers, or through subtly wrought Enchantment snaring every thought; Yea, by the whole mysterious pore Of life,—this joy surpassing aught That heart of man hath known before.

And, though, indeed, a hapless end Of damning ruin were but sure, Yet could I none of me defend From such a sweet and perfect lure; But must, as long as they endure, To all these sorceries still lend My heart; believing how I stand Nigh some unearthly bliss that lies Dissembled all before my eyes;— Do I not see a radiant Hand Transmuting earth, and air, and skies?

—And is not the great language mute The stars’ deep looks are wont to melt Upon my soul, the very suit Of this unearthly wooer—felt So clearly pleading—I have knelt Full oft, most dreading to pollute The holy rapture with a sigh? And doth not every accent nigh Consume each Past to a thin shred; While endless visions glorify My sight, and haloes touch my head?

Yea, mystic consummation! yea, O Wondrous suitor,—whosoe’er Thou art; that in such mighty way, In distant realms, athwart the air And lands and seas, with all things fair, Hast wooed me even till this day;— It seems thou drawest near to me; Or I, indeed, so nigh to thee, I catch rare breaths of a delight From thy most glorious country, see Its distant glow upon some height.

At times there is vouchsafed me, e’en Some sign that certainly foretells Of thee at hand: so I have seen— Caught by no earthly clash of bells— A gleam of silver citadels; Distant, and radiant with such sheen As only on high virgin snows, Or from the diamond one knows; Displayed a moment, without shroud, Eclipsing all the night’s fair shows From some dim pinnacle of cloud:

Or, through a calm hushed interval Of most charmed thinking, there hath passed, And with no rumour or footfall, A troop of blonde ones who surpassed All tales of loveliness amassed In my child’s dreamland; costumed all As for a bridal; who did shine With such a splendour on each face, And light upon the garments fine, I knew them surely of a race That dwells in that fair realm of thine.

O thou my Destiny! O thou My own—my very Love—my Lord! Whom from the first day until now My heart, divining, hath adored So perfectly it hath abhorred The tie of each frail human vow— O I would whisper in thine ear— Yea, may I not, once, in the clear Pure night, when, only, silver shod The angels walk?—thy name, I fear And love, and tremble saying—GOD!