Part 17 (2/2)

There were distances of color all around, And stars and darknesses of land and trees, And at the point the lighthouse.

And over us the moon, And over the balcony of our room All of these, where we lay till I slept, Listening to the water of the lake, And the water of the Bay.

And we saw the moon sink like a red bomb, And we saw the stars change As the sky wheeled....

Now this was the end of the earth, For this strip of land Ran out to a point no larger than one of the stumps We saw on the desolate hills.

And moreover it seemed to dive under, Or waste away in a sudden depth of water.

And around it was a swirl, To the north the bounding waves of the Lake, And to the south the Bay which seemed the Lake.

But could we speak of it, even though I saw your eyes when you thought of it?

A sigh of wind blew through the rustic temple When we saw this symbol together, And neither spoke.

But that night, somewhere in the beginning of drowsiness, You said: ”There is no further place to go, We must retrace.”

And I awoke in a torrent of light in the room, Hearing voices and steps on the walk: I looked for you, But you had arisen.

Then I dressed and searched for you, But you were gone.

Then I stood for long minutes Looking at a sail far out at sea And departed too.

THE STAR

I am a certain G.o.d Who slipped down from a remote height To a place of pools and stars.

And I sat invisible Amid a clump of trees To watch the madmen.

There were cries and groans about me, And shouts of laughter and curses.

Figures pa.s.sed by with self-absorbed contempt, Wrinkling in bitter smiles about their lips.

Others hurried on with set eyes Pursuing something.

Then I said this is the place for mad Frederick-- Mad Frederick will be here.

But everywhere I could see Figures sitting or standing By little pools.

Some seemed grown into the soil And were helpless.

And of these some were asleep.

Others laughed the laughter That comes from dying men Trying to face Death.

And others said ”I should be content,”

And others said ”I will fly.”

Whereupon sepulchral voices muttered, As of creatures sitting or hanging head down From limbs of the trees, ”We will not let you.”

And others looked in their pools And clasped hands and said ”Gone, all gone.”

By other pools there were dead bodies: Some of youth, some of age.

They had given up the fight, They had drunk poisoned water, They had searched Until they fell-- All had gone mad!

Then I, a certain G.o.d, Curious to know What it is in pools and stars That drives men and women Over the earth in this quest Waited for mad Frederick.

And then I heard his step.

I knew that long ago He sat by one of these pools Enraptured of a star's image.

And that hands, for his own good, As they said, Dumped clay into the pool And blotted his star.

And I knew that after that He had said, ”They will never spy again Upon my ecstasy.

They will never see me watching one star.

I will fly by rivers, And by little brooks, And by the edge of lakes, And by little bends of water, Where no wind blows, And glance at stars as I pa.s.s.

They will never spy again Upon my ecstasy.”

And I knew that mad Frederick In this flight Through years of restless and madness Was caught by the image of a star In a mere beyond a meadow Down from a hill, under a forest, And had said, ”No one sees; Here I can find life, Through vision of eternal things.”

But they had followed him.

They stood on the brow of the hill, And when they saw him gazing in the water They rolled a great stone down the hill, And shattered the star's image.

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