Part 3 (1/2)

Great, bright portal, Shelf of rock, Rocks fitted in long ledges, Rocks fitted to dark, to silver-granite, To lighter rock-- Clean cut, white against white.

High--high--and no hill-goat Tramples--no mountain-sheep Has set foot on your fine gra.s.s.

You lift, you are the world-edge, Pillar for the sky-arch.

The world heaved-- We are next to the sky.

Over us, sea-hawks shout, Gulls sweep past.

The terrible breakers are silent From this place.

Below us, on the rock-edge, Where earth is caught in the fissures Of the jagged cliff, A small tree stiffens in the gale, It bends--but its white flowers Are fragrant at this height.

And under and under, The wind booms.

It whistles, it thunders, It growls--it presses the gra.s.s Beneath its great feet.

II

I said: Forever and forever must I follow you Through the stones?

I catch at you--you lurch.

You are quicker than my hand-grasp.

I wondered at you.

I shouted--dear--mysterious--beautiful-- White myrtle-flesh.

I was splintered and torn.

The hill-path mounted Swifter than my feet.

Could a daemon avenge this hurt, I would cry to him--could a ghost, I would shout--O evil, Follow this G.o.d, Taunt him with his evil and his vice.

III

Shall I hurl myself from here, Shall I leap and be nearer you?

Shall I drop, beloved, beloved, Ankle against ankle?

Would you pity me, O white breast?

If I woke, would you pity me, Would our eyes meet?

Have you heard, Do you know how I climbed this rock?

My breath caught, I lurched forward-- I stumbled in the ground-myrtle.

Have you heard, O G.o.d seated on the cliff, How far toward the ledges of your house, How far I had to walk?

IV

Over me the wind swirls.