THE SPHINX THE Sphinx is drowsy, Her wings are furled: She broods on the world. "Who'll tell me my secret, The ages have kept? — I awaited the seer While they slumbered and slept: "The fate of the man-child, The meaning of man ; Dædalian plan; Out of sleeping a waking, Out of waking a sleep; "Erect as a sunbeam, In beautiful motion The thrush plies his wings; Kind leaves of his covert, "The waves, unashamèd, Firmly draw, firmly drive, "Sea, earth, air, sound, silence, Plant, quadruped, bird, By one music enchanted, One deity stirred, — Night veileth the morning, "The babe by its mother Lies bathed in joy; Glide its hours uncounted, The sun is its toy; Shines the peace of all being, Without cloud, in its eyes; And the sum of the world In soft miniature lies. "But man crouches and blushes, Absconds and conceals; He creepeth and peepeth, Jealous glancing around, He poisons the ground.1 "Out spoke the great mother, Beholding his fear; — At the sound of her accents Cold shuddered the sphere: 'Who has drugged my boy's cup? Who has mixed my boy's bread ? Who, with sadness and madness, Has turned my child's head? I heard a poet answer Aloud and cheerfully, "Say on, sweet Sphinx! thy dirges Are pleasant songs to me. Deep love lieth under These pictures of time; They fade in the light of Their meaning sublime. "The fiend that man harries Is love of the Best; Yawns the pit of the Dragon, Can't trance him again, Which his eyes seek in vain. "To vision profounder, Man's spirit must dive; His aye-rolling. orb At no goal will arrive; The heavens that now draw him "Pride ruined the angels, Their shame them restores ; Lurks the joy that is sweetest In stings of remorse. Have I a lover Who is noble and free? I would he were nobler Than to love me. "Eterne alternation Now follows, now flies; And under pain, pleasure,— Under pleasure, pain lies. Love works at the centre, Heart-heaving alway; Forth speed the strong pulses "Dull Sphinx, Jove keep thy five wits; Rue, myrrh and cummin for the Sphinx, Said, "Who taught thee me to name? am thy spirit, yoke-fellow; Of thine eye I am eyebeam. "Thou art the unanswered question ; ' Couldst see thy proper eye, Alway it asketh, asketh ; And each answer is a lie. So take thy quest through nature, Uprose the merry Sphinx, And crouched no more in stone; She silvered in the moon; I |