Festival   The heart has split up into two, Between the blue and blue; The skies flow in and all the seas, The stars and birds and trees; And silent, far-world memories Drift in upon the breeze...   The ancient karmic destinies Dissolve their fixed decrees; The sun's gold pours, the moon-wine flows From caverns of the rose; Luminous globes hang everywhere Within its freedom's air, Bright filaments of fire enlace Its interstellar space, And visions lure its flames above To wondrous worlds of love. Page-163

Clay-flower   Take, O Love, this aching dust,  Within your hands of power; Break the seals of night's thick crust, And mould me to a flower.   Through the veins of rock and earth Let flow your streams of grace, Kindle the roots anew to birth,  Upon my earth-clods trace   Visions of the coming Spring, Seed-secrets, mute and close, Promise of the blossoming Of your immortal Rose. Page-13

Venturing out   Set the trembling lamp afloat Upon the dark wild flood, Set adrift the broken boat Upon the seas of blood.   And if a little farther still Across Time's prudent bar It ventures out, maybe it will Just land on the morning star. Page-104

Dream   Our small dreams having prospered, now we dream this mighty one: That the inscrutable hand has widened out its web of prayer To draw in each our wish and hope, so dark and earthly spun, And hold it in its glistening threads, transfused to glory there; That we have found courage enough to snap these gloaming-bars, To break at last the pageant-sham of being beauty's slaves, And free the idol Phoenix to soar up into the stars Or burn its red-gold thanks for love in earth's remotest caves... Whose scattered ashes are remoulded to body forth our dreams, Our mute power to worship away all evil things from Thee, —

No Word   Across the unmeaning spaces, clean-built by Custom's hand, Whose laws we all abide by, although we understand Their tricks to keep us lonely, their traps to snare our joys, — Across those empty spaces cries forth the spirit-voice.   Against the light our hearts are pure, yet shadows of their sin Are over our words, ambiguous words, that hurt the thought within; And so they try to break our truth, to hold our faiths apart, To crush the music from our soul, the sweetness from our heart. But we shall still keep all things bright, be silence's votaries, Ours shall be the dumb stars' song, the hush of timeless seas

O Marvellous Friend   O marvellous Friend whose beauty binds The star-worlds in its spell, Whose wisdom broods within our minds, Whose love glows in each cell,   When your vast flood of blinding light Sweeps breaking through the brain, And shakes the fixities of sight, And cleans thought's cluttered drain,   The rose-fires burst through clotted clay, The leashed heart snaps its chain, Rockholds of darkness shattered away, Over earth sun-showers rain.   The fields are fields of golden grain, Each flower a seraph flower, And nectar flows through every vein, For eternity's in this hour.   O marvellous

Pure Rose   Press the heart-bell, call the power, Silence enters in this hour. Do not break the wisdom-chain With the hammers of the brain. Stilled upon the midnight minute Hold all Timelessness within it.   Pure rose, vibrant with soft love-light, Among the thickets of the night, A jewel-lamp, a sun, a flower, A well of fragrance, spell of power; Source of all the energies That move within life's rolling seas, The myriad forces that unroll The vast white spaces of the soul. Page-148

On the Cross   There's no respite; the riddles loom Around my thought, and fold on fold Thick sins pleat up, till cold, unsouled, I lie within a tomb.   This loneliness that eats men's flesh Has wormed the very life of me; Will you not yet unweave the mesh, Clean me and let me see?   The myriad purities and powers Hang limp, shrink and betray their trust; Sweet innocencies fall like flowers, Unfold their rot and turn to dust.   A night of blind and void desire, Of unforgiven wills and ways, And mockeries of thief and liar, Wraps up my coward heart's delays.   The snake-proud puzzlings twitch and moan,

There is No Question   There is no question; one stark fact remains: What she had promised to do she has done. If men grope blindly, does it mean the sun Illumines not their pathways and their plains? Why! her love's Sun has kissed even the drains Of our desires, has drunk the vapours dun Of guttered falsehood where night's waters run. What hasn't she done? If in our brains and veins The Fire still burns low, it is best we seal Our stupid lips and roll ourselves to sleep... She called the brave with all their faith to leap Into those dangerous depths her heart explored, Daring the unknown darkness to reveal The flame

For the Dead   Those who are dead — the swift and strong, Free riders of the wind, Have gone, as beautiful as song And left their death behind.   Left it to us; and the wild pride Of air which knew their breath. And we must think our earth enskied And lovelier for their death!...   It should be so; yet foolishly We weep that they are gone. They took all Beauty on the sly, All secret battles won.   "Because lives drop like petals, they Can't but be beautiful", Insists the breeze in mock dismay, Preaching its sweeping rule.   Yet it is true, beyond Death's bar We roamed as children roam; They had to