Читать книгу The Rosary of Pan - Alexander Maitland Stephen - Страница 10

Table of Contents

YOU will not dream? Self-centred in the mire

And paltry dross of perishable clay,

Proud of your shame and pitiful desire

To shun the message of the larger day

That bids you be and spurn Illusion’s sway.

You will not dream? Nay, rather, purchase pain,

Shadow of joy, with gold and blood as fee,

Building a prison for the soul, in vain

Attempt to stem the surging, crimson sea

Of primal life that wills you to be free.

You will not dream? Your unctuous priests have slain

The song eternal welling in your heart,

Love, Fount of Life, no law can curb or chain,

Is cursed, outcast, a thing unclean, apart,

A chattel bound and sold in street or mart.

You will not dream? Can you not hear the tune

Of tides eternal thunder in your ears

Nor know how, ever, led by sun or moon,

The seasons sing the rhythm of the years—

That Joy is stronger than our utmost fears?

You will not dream? Alas! then Love, the king,

Destroyer of all fleeting forms that bind

The spirit’s splendour in the souls that sing

Love’s ancient paean, slays your sons to find

For them, in death, the freedom you declined.

You will not dream? Then withering fire shall flame

Again to make you clean. The God of War

Shall claim more millions in the sacred name

Of Her, the Queen, beneath whose bleeding star

Earth’s bravest legions died on fields afar.

You will not dream? Then know what poets see,

What sages teach and little children tell

The birds and flowers in play—that Love is free!

And only it endures. Though systems fell

The Spirit lives and Love and all is well.