Introduction   Asked — rather honoured — to introduce this collection of poems, I cannot begin better than by repeating what I wrote to their author in 1951 when they first came to me in typescript: "You are a very fine poet. You have a genuine gift spontaneously sustained over years and some of your pieces are of absolutely first-rate quality. And this quality is not only exquisiteness: there is a distinct vein of what must be called greatness — that is to say, the thought, the vision, the emotion have both weight and depth and are carried to us on a rhythmic tone bringing a touch of some infinite which suggests a beyond to all that can be uttered. Often your expression is, as you

Chinese Song (God to the soul)   My friend of joy, Why do you never let me row? Or, you await, perhaps, the breaking of the oar? When it will break, I'll part the waters With skill of mine own arm; For we two must decoy The deep old river-god.   Where is the shore? The autumn moon comes arm in arm With his fair daughters: You want the moon to think You're rowing, but I think The little ones yet know That it is I. Page-140

Bird-song   Deep within the wells of being Floats an image of the sun; And there a bird sits singing, singing, Eternally, alone.   A hush immense walls up the song In crystal purity; And Silence sentinels its power, Its vast infinity.   So deep, so rich, the spirit-rune, The inner spaces shine, World after world unfolds in light And loveliness divine. Page-150

World-dust   Listen: they taught me to believe a lie, They put the consciousness of sin within My heart, and I believed that it was sin And so destroyed my dedication; I Shrunk down the dark and thought I should deny Henceforth Your presence, break our bond of kin, Swiftly unweave the quiet discipline Which held us, each to each, in purity. The shadow of my earth-love ever came Between us; shame-clots on my limbs and stain Of world-dust on my lips burnt sharp like flame, And everywhere Your glory cut me through: Sin-sapped I could not see beyond my pain That the Earth and I, being yours, were as pure as You. Page-118

In Blind Dark   How can we see who have no vision pure To look behind the earth's and body's veil? Will the fire-form prepared within assure Duration of that mould of flesh so frail?   A thousand murmurs darken over the cold Still clay; and whispering doubts creep through the air; Do we forget the promise given of old? Why do we tremble so, deny, despair?   The surging darkness from the lairs of night Blinds all our wits; the black stone mind of fear Has neither loving trust nor any sight, And mud-blocked, buzzing loud, the ear cannot hear.   What do we do? We sacrifice to doom Our faith, our love — our living heart en

Liberation   A hundred sweet tunes throng the heart One moment, then as fast depart: Dark silence surges over the soul, And thoughts and feelings swiftly roll Up into one fire-knot, all pure, And plunge down to the being's core, Lost in its strange black unlit seas, Plumbing their age-held mysteries. The hidden caves its power unlocks: Blue flutings issue from the rocks Of Night; the Fire liberates All prisoned angels, breaks the gates.   — The blind trance passes, the waters part, New melodies well in the heart. Page-115

Across the River   Shall we go across the river? Ah, this side or the other side, What does it matter? here, hereafter? Where do the friends of God abide?   Vertical flows the river of light Straight down to midnight caverns dark, And all the souls go down the flow, Both blazing sun and glow-worm spark.   All go down to the sunless deeps, The waters of stupendous night, Folding within the magic threads That weave back to the primal height.   They cross, re-cross, arise and sink, And lost and found still seek and hide; The wheel moves round, and everywhere, Here too, the friends of God abide. Page-147

When Dreams Unfold...   When the long folded dreams unfold, We know and love before we meet: Because earth's shores are dark burnt gold I have met You at the sunset feet;   White waters running from the wake Of rising suns in endless stream, I have drunk, and known your pureness slake Me to the breaking of the dream...   Upon dark leaves each night is laid The tender clearness of the dew; When morning splendour, unafraid, Takes it, then I'll be meeting You.   Love, just because your Beauty runs Wild over muddy wastes and sands, I press the glory of your suns So close with eager burning hands.   And

Offering   Priestess, what will you sacrifice? The altar of the dawn's afire, The gods stoop from their paradise To taste the ash of your desire.   What can you offer save a dream? This body is but dust of earth, And life's a purple passion-stream, And mind a moon of airy birth.   Within the Fire offer fire, Your silent heart's pure lonely flame;  What have you lovelier or higher To burn before his beauteous Name?   O priestess-soul, before He call, The Sun-God of the mystic dance, Gather your strength and lay your all Upon the dawn's red altar-trance.   Then He, the Lord of sacrifice Will open his gold-gates

To a "Modern" Poet   Consider, friend, your strange new art: The giddy babel, the words' dark pall; Consider the towering tragic wall You build between a heart and heart.   Clever, cunning, you close the doors, And shut a mad beast in the den; The tongues of flame, sun-speech of men, You change to grovelling moans and roars.   Uncogent babbling, whim absurd, With mockery your pages fill; The watching soul has but one will; To hear the one Eternal Word:   When through each image, symbol, sound, Silence and speech weave endlessly A faultless work of filigree, The patterns of a Truth profound. Page-159