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.

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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-fringed 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.

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Golden vines they, 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.

What fiery wine 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.

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