The Poems of William Watson Part 15

Lightly we met in the morn, Lightly we parted at eve.

There was never a thought of the thorn The rose of a day might leave.

Fate's finger we did not perceive, So lightly we met in the morn!

So lightly we parted at eve We knew not that Love was born.

I rose on the morrow forlorn, To pine and remember and grieve.

Too lightly we met in the morn!

Too lightly we parted at eve!

COLUMBUS

(12TH OCTOBER 1492)

From his adventurous prime He dreamed the dream sublime: Over his wandering youth It hung, a beckoning star.

At last the vision fled, And left him in its stead The scarce sublimer truth, The world he found afar.

The scattered isles that stand Warding the mightier land Yielded their maidenhood To his imperious prow.

The mainland within call Lay vast and virginal: In its blue porch he stood: No more did fate allow.

No more! but ah, how much, To be the first to touch The veriest azure hem Of that majestic robe!

Lord of the lordly sea, Earth's mightiest sailor he: Great Captain among them, The captors of the globe.

When shall the world forget Thy glory and our debt, Indomitable soul, Immortal Genoese?

Not while the shrewd salt gale Whines amid shroud and sail, Above the rhythmic roll And thunder of the seas.

THE PRINCE'S QUEST AND OTHER POEMS

THE PRINCE'S QUEST

PART THE FIRST

There was a time, it pa.s.seth me to say How long ago, but sure 'twas many a day Before the world had gotten her such store Of foolish wisdom as she hath,--before She fell to waxing gray with weight of years And knowledge, bitter knowledge, bought with tears,-- When it did seem as if the feet of time Moved to the music of a golden rhyme, And never one false thread might woven be Athwart that web of worldwide melody.

'Twas then there lived a certain queen and king, Unvext of wars or other evil thing, Within a s.p.a.cious palace builded high, Whence they might see their chiefest city lie About them, and half hear from their tall towers Its populous murmur through the daylight hours, And see beyond its walls the pleasant plain.

One child they had, these blissful royal twain: Of whom 'tis told--so more than fair was he-- There lurked at whiles a something shadowy Deep down within the fairness of his face; As 'twere a hint of some not-earthly grace, Making the royal stripling rather seem The very dreaming offspring of a dream Than human child of human ancestry: And something strange-fantastical was he, I doubt not. Howsoever he upgrew, And after certain years to manhood drew Nigh, so that all about his father's court, Seeing his graciousness of princely port, Rejoiced thereat; and many maidens' eyes Look'd pleased upon his beauty, and the sighs Of many told I know not what sweet tales.

So, like to some fair s.h.i.+p with sunlit sails, Glided his youth amid a stormless sea, Till once by night there came mysteriously A fateful wind, and o'er an unknown deep Bore him perforce. It chanced that while in sleep He lay, there came to him a strange dim dream.

'Twas like as he did float adown a stream, In a lone boat that had nor sail nor oar Yet seemed as it would glide for evermore, Deep in the bosom of a sultry land Fair with all fairness. Upon either hand Were hills green-browed and mist-engarlanded, And all about their feet were woods bespread, h.o.a.rding the cool and leafy silentness In many an unsunned hollow and hid recess.

Nought of unbeauteous might be there espied; But in the heart of the deep woods and wide, And in the heart of all, was Mystery-- A something more than outer eye might see, A something more than ever ear might hear.

The very birds that came and sang anear Did seem to syllable some faery tongue, And, singing much, to hold yet more unsung.

And heard at whiles, with hollow wandering tone, Far off, as by some aery huntsmen blown, Faint-echoing horns, among the mountains wound, Made all the live air tremulous with sound.

So hour by hour (thus ran the Prince's dream) Glided the boat along the broadening stream; Till, being widowed of the sun her lord, The purblind day went groping evenward: Whereafter Sleep compelled to his mild yoke The bubbling clear souls of the feathered folk, Sealing the vital fountains of their song.

Howbeit the Prince went onward all night long And never shade of languor came on him, Nor any weariness his eyes made dim.

And so in season due he heard the breath Of the brief winds that wake ere darkness' death Sigh through the woods and all the valley wide: The rushes by the water answering sighed: Sighed all the river from its reedy throat.

And like a winged creature went the boat, Over the errant water wandering free, As some lone seabird over a lone sea.

And Morn pale-haired with watery wide eyes Look'd up. And starting with a swift surprise, Sprang to his feet the Prince, and forward leant, His gaze on something right before him bent That like a towered and templed city showed, Afar off, dim with very light, and glowed As burnished seas at sundawn when the waves Make amber lightnings all in dim-roof'd caves That fling mock-thunder back. Long leagues away, Down by the river's green right bank it lay, Set like a jewel in the golden morn: But ever as the Prince was onward borne, Nearer and nearer danced the dizzy fires Of domes innumerable and sun-tipt spires And many a sky-acquainted pinnacle, Splendid beyond what mortal tongue may tell; And ere the middle heat of day was spent, He saw, by nearness thrice-magnificent, Hardly a furlong's s.p.a.ce before him lie The City, sloping to the stream thereby.

And therewithal the boat of its own will Close to the sh.o.r.e began to glide, until, All of a sudden pa.s.sing nigh to where The glistering white feet of a marble stair Ran to the rippled brink, the Prince outsprang Upon the gleamy steps, and wellnigh sang For joy, to be once more upon his feet, Amid the green gra.s.s and the flowers sweet.

So on he paced along the river-marge, And saw full many a fair and stately barge, Adorned with strange device and imagery, At anchor in the quiet waters lie.

And presently he came unto a gate Of ma.s.sy gold, that shone with splendid state Of mystic hieroglyphs, and storied frieze All overwrought with carven phantasies.

And in the shadow of the golden gate, One in the habit of a porter sate, And on the Prince with wondering eye looked he, And greeted him with reverent courtesy, Saying, "Fair sir, thou art of mortal race, The first hath ever journeyed to this place,-- For well I know thou art a stranger here, As by the garb thou wearest doth appear; And if thy raiment do belie thee not, Thou should'st be some king's son. And well I wot, If that be true was prophesied of yore, A wondrous fortune is for thee in store; For though I be not read in Doomful Writ, Oft have I heard the wise expounding it, And, of a truth, the fatal rolls declare _That the first mortal who shall hither fare Shall surely have our Maiden-Queen to wife, And while the world lives shall they twain have life. _"

Hereat, be sure, the wonder-stricken youth, Holden in doubt if this were lies or truth, Was tongue-tied with amaze, and sore perplext, Unknowing what strange thing might chance him next, And ere he found fit words to make reply, The porter bade a youth who stood hard by Conduct the princely stranger, as was meet, Through the great golden gate into the street, And thence o'er all the city, wheresoe'er Was aught to show of wonderful or fair.

With that the Prince, beside his willing guide, Went straightway through the gate, and stood inside The wall, that, builded of a rare white stone, Clasp'd all the city like a silver zone.

And thence down many a s.h.i.+ning street they pa.s.sed, Each one appearing goodlier than the last, Cool with the presence of innumerous trees And fountains playing before palaces.

And whichsoever way the Prince might look, Another marvel, and another, took His wildered eyes with very wonderment.

And holding talk together as they went, The Prince besought his guide to tell him why Of all the many folk that pa.s.sed them by There was not one that had the looks of eld, Or yet of life's mid-years; for they beheld Only young men and maidens everywhere, Nor ever saw they one that was not fair.

Whereat the stripling: "Master, thou hast seen, Belike, the river that doth flow between Flowers and gra.s.ses at the city's feet?"

And when the Prince had rendered answer meet, "Then," said the other, "know that whosoe'er Drinks of the water thou beheldest there (It matters not how many are his years) Thenceforward from that moment he appears Like as he was in youthly days, before His pa.s.sed summers told beyond a score: And so the people of this land possess Unto all time their youth and comeliness."

Scarce had his mouth made answer when there rose Somewhat of tumult, ruffling the repose Of the wide splendid street; and lifting up His eyes, the Prince beheld a glittering troop Of hors.e.m.e.n, each upon a beauteous steed, Toward them coming at a gentle speed.

And as the cavalcade came on apace, A sudden pleasure lit the stripling's face Who bore him company and was his guide; And "Lo, thou shalt behold our queen," he cried,-- "Even the fairest of the many fair; With whom was never maiden might compare For very loveliness!" While yet he spake, On all the air a silver sound 'gan break Of jubilant and many-tongued acclaim, And in a s.h.i.+ning car the bright queen came, And looking forth upon the mult.i.tude Her eyes beheld the stranger where he stood, And round about him was the loyal stir: And all his soul went out in love to her.

But even while her gaze met his, behold, The city and its marvels manifold Seemed suddenly removed far off, and placed Somewhere in Twilight; and withal a waste Of sudden waters lay like time between; And over all that s.p.a.ce he heard the queen Calling unto him from her chariot; And then came darkness. And the Dream was not.

PART THE SECOND

A fearful and a lovely thing is Sleep, And mighty store of secrets hath in keep; And those there were of old who well could guess What meant his fearfulness and loveliness, And all his many shapes of life and death, And all the secret things he uttereth.

But Wisdom lacketh sons like those that were, And Sleep hath never an interpreter: So there be none that know to read aright The riddles he propoundeth every night.

And verily, of all the wondrous things By potence wrought of mortal visionings In that dark house whereof Sleep hath the keys-- Of suchlike miracles and mysteries Not least, meseems, is this among them all: That one in dream enamoured should fall, And ever afterward, in waking thought, Wors.h.i.+p the phantom which the dream hath brought.

Howbeit such things have been, and in such wise Did that king's son behold, with mortal eyes, A more than mortal loveliness, and thus Was stricken through with love miraculous.

For evermore thereafter he did seem To see that royal maiden of his dream Unto her palace riding sovranly; And much he marvelled where that land might be That basking lay beneath her beauty's beams, Well knowing in his heart that suchlike dreams Come not in idleness but evermore Are Fate's veiled heralds that do fly before Their mighty master as he journeyeth, And sing strange songs of life and love and death.

And so he did scarce aught but dream all day Of that far land revealed of sleep, that lay He knew not where; and musing more and more On her the mistress of that unknown sh.o.r.e, There fell a sadness on him, thus to be Vext with desire of her he might not see Yet could not choose but long for; till erewhile Nor man nor woman might behold the smile Make sudden morning of his countenance, But likest one he seemed half-sunk, in trance, That wanders groping in a shadowy land, Hearing strange things that none can understand.

Now after many days and nights had pa.s.sed, The queen, his mother well-beloved, at last, Being sad at heart because his heart was sad, Would e'en be told what hidden cause he had To be cast down in so mysterious wise: And he, beholding by her tearful eyes How of his grief she was compa.s.sionate, No more a secret made thereof, but straight Discovered to her all about his dream-- The mystic happy marvel of the stream.

A fountain running Youth to all the land; Flowing with deep dim woods on either hand Where through the boughs did birds of strange song flit: And all beside the bloomy banks of it The city with its towers and domes far-seen.

And then he told her how that city's queen Did pa.s.s before him like a breathing flower, That he had loved her image from that hour.

"And sure am I," upspake the Prince at last, "That somewhere in this world so wide and vast Lieth the land mine eyes have inly seen;-- Perhaps in very truth my spirit hath been Translated thither, and in very truth Hath seen the brightness of that city of youth.

Who knows?--for I have heard a wise man say How that in sleep the souls of mortals may, At certain seasons which the stars decree, From bondage of the body be set free To visit farthest countries, and be borne Back to their fleshly houses ere the morn."

At this the good queen, greatly marvelling, Made haste to tell the story to the king; Who hearing laughed her tale to scorn. But when Weeks followed one another, and all men About his person had begun to say "What ails our Prince? He groweth day by day Less like the Prince we knew ... wan cheeks, and eyes Hollow for lack of sleep, and secret sighs....

Some hidden grief the youth must surely have,"-- Then like his queen the king himself wox grave; And thus it chanced one summer eventide, They sitting in an arbour side by side, All unawares the Pince pa.s.sed by that way, And as he pa.s.sed, unmark'd of either--they Nought heeding but their own discourse--could hear Amidst thereof his own name uttered clear, And straight was 'ware it was the queen who spake, And spake of him; whereat the king 'gan make Answer in this wise, somewhat angerly: "The youth is crazed, and but one remedy Know I, to cure such madness--he shall wed Some princess; ere another day be sped, Myself will bid this dreamer go prepare To take whom I shall choose to wife; some fair And highborn maiden, worthy to be queen Hereafter."--So the Prince, albeit unseen, Heard, and his soul rebelled against the thing His sire had willed; and slowly wandering About the darkling pleasance--all amid A maze of intertangled walks, or hid In cedarn glooms, or where mysterious bowers Were heavy with the breath of drowsed flowers-- Something, he knew not what, within his heart Rose like a faint-heard voice and said "Depart From hence and follow where thy dream shall lead."

And fain would he have followed it indeed, But wist not whither it would have him go.

Howbeit, while yet he wandered to and fro, Among his thoughts a chance remembrance leapt All sudden--like a seed, that long hath slept In earth, upspringing as a flower at last, When he that sowed forgetteth where 'twas cast; A chance remembrance of the tales men told Concerning one whose wisdom manifold Made all the world to wonder and revere-- A mighty mage and learn'd astrologer Who dwelt in honour at a great king's court In a far country, whither did resort Pilgrims innumerable from many lands, Who crossed the wide seas and the desert sands To learn of him the occult significance Of some perplexing omen, or perchance To hear forewhisperings of their destiny And know what things in aftertime should be.

"Now surely," thought the Prince, "this subtile seer, To whom the darkest things belike are clear, Could read the riddle of my dream and tell Where lieth that strange land delectable Wherein mine empress hath her dwelling-place.

So might I look at last upon her face, And make an end of all these weary sighs, And melt into the shadow of her eyes!"

Thus musing, for a little s.p.a.ce he stood As holden to the spot; and evil, good, Life, death, and earth beneath and heaven above, Shrank up to less than shadows,--only Love, With harpings of an hundred harps unseen, Filled all the emptiness where these had been.