| |
| I AM the tender voice calling “Away,” | |
| Whispering between the beatings of the heart, | |
| And inaccessible in dewy eyes | |
| I dwell, and all unkissed on lovely lips, | |
| Lingering between white breasts inviolate, | 5 |
| And fleeting ever from the passionate touch, | |
| I shine afar, till men may not divine | |
| Whether it is the stars or the beloved | |
| They follow with rapt spirit. And I weave | |
| My spells at evening, folding with dim caress, | 10 |
| Aerial arms and twilight dropping hair, | |
| The lonely wanderer by wood or shore, | |
| Till, filled with some deep tenderness, he yields, | |
| Feeling in dreams for the dear mother heart | |
| He knew, ere he forsook the starry way, | 15 |
| And clings there, pillowed far above the smoke | |
| And the dim murmur from the duns of men. | |
| I can enchant the trees and rocks, and fill | |
| The dumb brown lips of earth with mystery, | |
| Make them reveal or hide the god. I breathe | 20 |
| A deeper pity than all love, myself | |
| Mother of all, but without hands to heal: | |
| Too vast and vague, they know me not. But yet, | |
| I am the heartbreak over fallen things, | |
| The sudden gentleness that stays the blow, | 25 |
| And I am in the kiss that foemen give | |
| Pausing in battle, and in the tears that fall | |
| Over the vanquished foe, and in the highest, | |
| Among the Danaan gods, I am the last | |
| Council of mercy in their hearts where they | 30 |
| Mete justice from a thousand starry thrones. | |
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