Song Of Earth The Element

Earth, the Element, mute, impassive, primal, lies shaped to valley, plain and peak. Enwombed in her, the ancient vast fertility lives on.

Her veins are charged with promise and birth, exhaustless quickenings of her eager flesh. She drinks from rocky bowls where lakes lie spread, from twining rivers and living streams.

She pours her virgin vigour through fields no plow has riven. In darkness granite-ribbed, she prisons her mineral hoards.

She lies as a garment upon the Mother-sphere; her feet trespass on Ocean.

Her heart is fretted with Fire, her flanks by the Seas, her brows by Sun and Wind.

In patience and sweet sufferance she lies, substance, nurse and genetrix of Life.

Her Song is heard, a mutter of music, low yet coalescent in slow estrangement from her lips.

I WAKE again!--O dauntless peaks that stand, Watch-towers to all the Heavens--O vales that lie,-- See where I rise or stretch, the lusty land Checks Seas and winnows Winds and frets the sky. Deep in my vaulted heart and womb of fire, And in the domes and chambers of my breasts, The seeds of Life glow teeming--O Sun-king, sire! Arch-quickener of Existence, gild these crests;-- Scatter thy warmth till harvest clothe these plains, And I shall broider me in bridal dreams, Yea, light my feast with blazonry, my veins Leap like my crystal and tellurian streams. In me bright blooms and golden fruitage blown Shall mark where errant, immortal summers creep, And man that is flesh of me, in every zone Build jewelled towns where quick and dead shall sleep. O fixed and faithful through the seasons round, The throne of Earth, her sceptre and her loom, Are mine, with mute, maternal glory crowned, In me all Life shall flower, all Death re-bloom!

Child of the Sun, unmastered and insurgent pulse of Life; breath of the empyrean, seraph winged with ardours and with loveliness!

Comes Fire, pontiff celestial, King of Elements, errant angel, that basks and rejoices in his spaces.

He comes and takes from darkness and cold their undivided victories. Out of the famished sands he leaps, out of the crater's maw.

The genius of flame winds on, touching the peaks with consecration. His red and golden nakedness is crested with his sable clouds of hair.

Upward and onward he aspires. His crimson vans are spread against the heavens, his torches flutter, making glorious the funerals of the day. His feet are a scourge across the soil; his arms are lifted to the stars.

Co-eval with them he burns and sings with a thousand tongues.