Ain Soph Aur, or The Limitless LightA Poem by Christopher Kelly Poetry... Ain Soph Aur, or The Limitless Light Christopher Kelly
Back, Bog! Move, Mog!
Leaf-strewing gales Utter low wails Like violins,-- Till on my soul Their creeping dole Stealthily wins.... Days long gone by! In such hour, I, Choking and pale, Call you to mind,-- Then like the wind Weep I and wail. And, as by wind Harsh and unkind, Driven by grief, Go I, here, there, Recking not where, Like the dead leaf.
Oh, heavy, heavy my despair, Because, because of One so fair. My misery knows no allay, Although my heart has come away. Although my heart, although my soul, Have fled the fatal One's control. My misery knows no allay, Although my heart has come away. My heart, the too, too feeling one, Says to my soul, "Can it be done, "Can it be done, too feeling heart, That we from her shall live apart?" My soul says to my heart, "Know I What this strange pitfall should imply, "That we, though far from her, are near, Yea, present, though in exile here?"
The keyboard, over which two slim hands float, Shines vaguely in the twilight pink and gray, Whilst with a sound like wings, note after note Takes flight to form a pensive little lay That strays, discreet and charming, faint, remote, About the room where perfumes of Her stray. What is this sudden quiet cradling me To that dim ditty's dreamy rise and fall? What do you want with me, pale melody? What is it that you want, ghost musical That fade toward the window waveringly A little open on the garden small?
It weeps in my heart As it rains on the town. What is this dull smart Possessing my heart? Soft sound of the rain On the ground and the roofs! To a heart in pain, O the song of the rain! It weeps without cause In my heart-sick heart. In her faith, what? no flaws? This grief has no cause. 'Tis sure the worst woe To know not wherefore My heart suffers so Without joy or woe.
Since shade relents, since 'tis indeed the day, Since hope I long had deemed forever flown, Wings back to me that call on her and pray, Since so much joy consents to be my own,-- The dark designs all I relinquish here, And all the evil dreams. Ah, done am I Above all with the narrowed lips, the sneer, The heartless wit that laughed where one should sigh. Away, clenched fist and bosom's angry swell, That knave and fool at every turn abound. Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell, Oblivion in a hated brewage found! For I mean, now a Being of the Morn Has shed across my night excelling rays Of love at once immortal and newborn,-- By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace, I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand, Wherein mine trembles,--led, sweet eyes, by you, To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew. Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight, Patient of all, unanxious of the goal, Void of all envy, violence, or hate It shall be duty done with cheerful soul. And as I may, to lighten the long way, Go singing airs ingenuous and brave, She'll listen to me graciously, I say,-- And, verily, no other heaven I crave.
Before your light quite fail, Already paling star, (The quail Sings in the thyme afar!) Turn on the poet's eyes That love makes overrun-- (See rise The lark to meet the sun!) Your glance, that presently Must drown in the blue morn; (What glee Amid the rustling corn!) Then flash my message true Down yonder,--far away!-- (The dew Lies sparkling on the hay.) Across what visions seek The Dear One slumbering still. (Quick, quick! The sun has reached the hill!)
O'er the wood's brow, Pale, the moon stares; In every bough Wandering airs Faintly suspire. . . . O heart's-desire! Two willow-trees Waver and weep, One in the breeze, One in the deep Glass of the stream. . . . Dream we our dream! An infinite Resignedness Rains where the white Mists opalesce In the moon-shower. . . . Stay, perfect hour!
Tranquil in the twilight dense By the spreading branches made, Let us breathe the influence Of the silence and the shade. Let your heart melt into mine, And your soul reach out to me, 'Mid the languors of the pine And the sighing arbute-tree. Close your eyes, your hands let be Folded on your slumbering heart, From whose hold all treachery Drive forever, and all art. Let us with the hour accord! Let us let the gentle wind, Rippling in the sunburnt sward, Bring us to a patient mind! And when Night across the air Shall her solemn shadow fling, Touching voice of our despair, Long the nightingale shall sing.
In the deserted park, silent and vast, Erewhile two shadowy glimmering figures passed. Their lips were colorless, and dead their eyes; Their words were scarce more audible than sighs. In the deserted park, silent and vast, Two spectres conjured up the buried past. "Our ancient ecstasy, do you recall?" "Why, pray, should I remember it at all?" "Does still your heart at mention of me glow? Do still you see my soul in slumber?" "No!" "Ah, blessed, blissful days when our lips met! You loved me so!" "Quite likely,--I forget." "How sweet was hope, the sky how blue and fair!" "The sky grew black, the hope became despair." Thus walked they 'mid the frozen weeds, these dead, And Night alone o'erheard the things they said.
Since shade relents, since 'tis indeed the day, Since hope I long had deemed forever flown, Wings back to me that call on her and pray, Since so much joy consents to be my own,-- The dark designs all I relinquish here, And all the evil dreams. Ah, done am I Above all with the narrowed lips, the sneer, The heartless wit that laughed where one should sigh. Away, clenched fist and bosom's angry swell, That knave and fool at every turn abound. Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell, Oblivion in a hated brewage found! For I mean, now a Being of the Morn Has shed across my night excelling rays Of love at once immortal and newborn,-- By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace, I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand, Wherein mine trembles,--led, sweet eyes, by you, To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew. Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight, Patient of all, unanxious of the goal, Void of all envy, violence, or hate It shall be duty done with cheerful soul. And as I may, to lighten the long way, Go singing airs ingenuous and brave, She'll listen to me graciously, I say,-- And, verily, no other heaven I crave. © 2010 Christopher Kelly |
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1 Review Added on July 10, 2010 Last Updated on July 10, 2010 Author
Christopher KellyLong Island, NYAboutI spend most of my time (when not staring at the heaventree of stars hung in humid nightblue fruit!) writing my 800+ page novel which after seven years of research, revision, and writing, is now, alas.. more..Writing
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