" LET THE WHITE LIGHT DESCEND " DESCEND, O whitely radiant, Unclouded shine : Be uttered thoughts Thy temple-garth, Hearts' hush Thy shrine. Wind with Thy unsullied light The topmost hills, Nor yet forbear till luminous peace Each valley fills. A fragrance and a dawn-fresh splendour On newest bough From ancient tree of world's aspiring Blossoms, is Thou. A troubled and uncertain darkness Enwraps the sea, Till the silver silence of the moon-song Pronounces Thee. April 20, 1936. Page-186

TIME'S RELEASE MYRIADS of purple grapes, Rain falling, the ancientness of trees — Giant boles with bushy branches crowned. How soon the sad soil gapes ; And of wine but bitter lees Remain—and of the boles, dun peaty ground. But somewhere nectar flows Of the unmixed joy ; immortal springs The Shadow less River by the fadeless groves. There, life's rhythm goes On feet untiring ; fearless wings Speed unveering to their haven loves. February 22, 1936. Page-156

CHILDREN OF THE SUN [A descriptive title that has come into use for the matriarchal people of Neolithic times whose barrows are still preserved on chalk downs in England and elsewhere]. TAKE the road that runs across the down land. Leave the water meadows of the vale ; Death the Reaper there may make him merry, Here no greeds of weapon-dint assail. Though yon pliant earth obey the yeoman And this soil heap bare two inch of height, Hark the barrows reared by dread less races : " Trust and fair dealing deigned not to fight." March 10, 1936. Page-167

LET THEN THE CONE-SHAPED HOOD THAT SHADOWS EARTH LET then the cone-shaped hood that shadows earth And sometimes sweeps across the glittering moon Be but the wrapping that is rent at birth— My newborn eyes shall only see the noon. Seek not the lower valleys and the wild Foothills where fragrant pasture for the ewes Is lush and tender : be the eagle's child And the straight pathway to the sun peak choose, Till Silence there be moulded to a Face Marred with no time prints of mortality, And the four winds be rhythms of pure space That gale through wideness to Infinity. Se

THE JOURNEY OVER the moat of unknowing, Out of the gloom and glare, Far from all fond bestowing And from hatred's stony stare. Such a mountainous island is looming, All calm from shore to peak : Far beneath is the Time-frothed booming ; Here on high will the throned Love speak. March 4, 1938. Page-304

SPRING CRAFT APRICOT bloom we weave on our loom, And tassels of silk we will Spin— The silver and gold which the sallows unfold, Or dark red where the cobnuts begin. From a rainbow vat we draw the cravat For the drake with his emerald gleam, And a bridegroom suit for the crested newt And thetiddlers that joust in the stream. With satin-cloth white we garnish the height Of the grim winter hedgegrow bare— For the stitchwort spray has hidden away The bonesof a by-gone year. But along the hem ground ivy stem Invades with a purply-blue, Dog-violets rove in paler mauve With hyacinths piercing through.

A STONE AGE SITE ON THE DOWNS THIN shallow soil upon a flank of down, All rife with flint-stones, yields a niggard breast To living crops. Upon the windy crest Some wizened larch trees dot a Stone Age town : Unfriendly ground with short sheep-nibbled grass (O stabbing symbol of the Stone Age heart That sours the time we live in); clouds but pass And fling indifferent shadows and depart. What dream distils in song from larks who thrill the sky. . Past savagery o'erthrown.... new Love that will not die ? March 19, 1938. Page-312

" CRUMBLED TO SHAFT AND LEAVES " LUMINOUS is the void where nothing feels The anti-self pushed back by growth within, The blade of Light unsheathed from scabbard-skin While thunder's answer from the Noon-Height peals. Starved of a birthright, hell-creation heaves In utmost darkness, lowest depth of fall : Of trillioned atoms, each forgets the All (Fair fronded bough crumbled to shaft and leaves). How gain the puissant rhythm that would bind These drooping shreds back to the unpierced Whole, Quicken the dying sparks with that Flame Soul— Make One no sterile void, nor Light-Source blind ? October

OTHER WHERE WHEN I darken my lamp in the twilight Till farness is shed through the house— A viewless flicker of ghost-flame In the stead of the flame that I dowse— There are fitfully hearkened voices Floating through gulfs of air With the golden cry of a harpstring And a bicker of lintwhite hair. O honey-sweet was the music With dancers lithe and gay In the realms of the woven half light And the harvested joys of day. July 11, 1935- Page-135

GREEN MOTH HOW came your green translucency to palimpsest my page, shadow of dim-wayed alchemy backthrown from after-age ? No this-world-print enwalls my cage, but script of gramarye up glimmers past your filmy wings and dips my hodden thought in some faint moon washed tide that brings colours undreamt, unsought ! If all your kind are fosterlings a phantom gale up caught from dragoned meadows of the moon, your flutter-fans of jade belong where palaces are hewn from porcelain, choicely made, whose silver carp in trance have swayed through chasms emerald-strewn divergelessly.... and midnight's rim o