xt7t1g0htx38 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7t1g0htx38/data/mets.xml Rice, Cale Young, 1872-1943. 1910  books b92-245-31687569 English Doubleday, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Many gods  / Cale Young Rice. text Many gods  / Cale Young Rice. 1910 2002 true xt7t1g0htx38 section xt7t1g0htx38 


MANY GODS

 

















   OTHER BOOKS BY
CALE YOUNG RICE

   Nirvana Days
   Yolanda of Cyprus
   Plays and Lyrics
 A Night in Avignon
 Charles di Tocca
       David

 





MANY G

          BY

   CALE YOUNG



;O D S



RICE



      NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
       MCMX

 







































ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION

INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN


  COPYRIGHT, 1Q10, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

            PUBLISHED, FEBRUARY, 1910

 




















       TO

FINIS KING FARR

     AN OLD

AND DEAR COMRADE

 This page in the original text is blank.

 













CONTENTS



" ALL'S WELL"

THE PROSELYTE RECANT S

LOVE IN JAPAN

MIAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA

TYPHOON

P ENANG

WHEN THE WIND is Low

THE PAGODA SLAVE

THE SHIPS OF THE SEA

KINCHINJUNGA
THE BARREN WOMAN

BY THE TAJ MAHAL

LOVE'S CYNIC

IN A TROPICAL GARDEN.

THE WIND'S WORD

THE SHRINE OF SHRINES

FROM A FELUCCA

THIE EGYPTIAN WAKES

THE IMAM'S PARABLE

SONGS OF A SEA-FARER

A SONG OF'`THE SECTS
THE CITY  .



                    PAGE

                       3
    .   .               6

                      10

             i. .'.. I3


                 ,   I7
                     20

          ,    .   22

                     25
                     26

                     29

                     32

                  35
                     42

                     46

                     47

                     48

                     49

                     50
   .   .    .   .   52

                     54

                     57



vii

 








Viii



CONTENTS



                                            PAGE
VIA AmOROSA.   .                              58
DUSK AT HIROSHIMA             .               6o
THE WANDERER   .   .                          6i
IN A SHINTO TEMPLE GARDEN     .      .   .    64
FAR FUJIYAMA   .65
ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN      .   .      .   .    66
OLD AGE   .    .   .    .   .    .   .    .   68
ON THE YANG-TSE-KIANG   .   .    .   .    .   69
THE SEA-ARMIES .   .    .   .    .   .    .   71
THE CHRISTIAN IN EXILE    .      .            73
THE PARSEE WOMAN   .    .                     75
SHAH JEHAN TO MUMTAZ MAHAL .     .   .    .   77
PRINCESS JEHANARA                         .   79
A CINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT.   .    .   .   .    8o
ON THE ARABIAN GULF.        .        .3
THE RAMESSID     .   .    .     .    .    .
IMMORTAL FOES  .   .    .        .   .    .   85
THE CONSCRIPT  .   .    .   .    .   .    .   87
NAVIS IGNOTA         .    .   .    .          89
THE CROSS OF THE SEPULCHRE  .    .   .    .   91
THE NUN   .    .   .    .   .    .   .   .    92
ALPINE CHANT                .                 94
THE MAN OF MIGHT          .   .    .          96
IN TIME OF AWE .   .    .   .    .   .        97
SUNRISE IN UTAH      .    .   .      .        99
CONSOLATION.   .   .    .   .    .   .   .   100
WAVES.    .    .   .    .   .    .   .   .   102
VIS ULTIMA.    .   .    .   .    .   .   .   104
MEREDITH  .    .   .    .   .    .   .   .   io6

 


MANY GODS

 This page in the original text is blank.

 








"ALL'S WELL"



                 I

The illimitable leaping of the sea,
The mouthing of his madness to the moon,
The seething of his endless sorcery,
His prophecy no power can attune,
Swept over me as, on the sounding prow
Of a great ship that steered into the stars,
I stood and felt the awe upon my brow
Of death and destiny and all that mars.

                 II

The wind that blew from Cassiopeia cast
Wanly upon my ear a rune that rung;
The sailor in his eyrie on the mast
Sang an "All's well," that to the spirit clung
                 3

 




MANY GODS



Like a lost voice from some aerial realm
Where ships sail on forever to no shore,
Where Time gives Immortality the helm,
And fades like a far phantom from life's door.


                   III

"And is all well, 0 Thou Unweariable
Launcher of worlds upon bewildered space,"
Rose in me, "All or did thy hand grow dull
Building this world that bears a piteous race
O was it launched too soon or launched too late
Or can it be a derelict that drifts
Beyond thy ken toward some reef of Fate
On which Oblivion's sand forever shifts"


                   IV

The sea grew softer as I questioned - calm
With mystery that like an answer moved,
And from infinity there fell a balm,
The old peace that God is, tho all unproved.



4

 



               MANY GODS                   5

The old faith that tho gulfs sidereal stun
The soul, and knowledge drown within their deep,
There is no world that wanders, no not one
Of all the millions, that He does not keep.

 









THE PROSELYTE RECANTS



              (In Japan)

  Where the fair golden idols
  Sit in darkness and in silence
While the temple drum beats solemnly and slow;
  Where the tall cryptomerias
  Sway in worship round about
And the rain that is falling whispers low;
  I can hear strange voices
  Of the dead and forgotten,
On the dimly rising incense I can see
  The lives I have lived,
  And my lives unbegotten,
Namu Amida Butsit pity me!
                   6

 

MANY GODS



  I was born this karma
  Of a mother in Chuzenji,
Where Nantti-zan looks down into the lake;
  Where the white-thronged pilgrims
  Climb to altars in the clouds
And behold the holy eastern dawn awake.
  It was there I wandered
  Till a priest of the Christians
With the crucifix he wore compelled my gaze.
  In grief I had grown,
  So upon its grief I pondered.
Namu Arnida Butsu, keep my days!



  It was wrong, he told me,
  To pray Jiso for my children,
And Binzuru for healing of my ills.
  And our gods so many
  Were conceived, he said, in sin,
From Lord Shaka to the least upon the hills.



7

 




MANY GODS



  In despair I listened
  For my heart beat hopeless,
Not a temple of my land had helped me live.
  But alas that day
  When I let my soul be christened!
Namu Amida Butsu, 0 forgive!



  For the Christ they gave me
  As the only Law and Lotus,
As the only way to Light that will not wane,
  May perchance have power
  For the people of the West,
But to me he seemed the servitor of pain.
  For in pain he perished
  As one born to passion:
In some other life no doubt his sin was great,
  Tho they told me no,
  Those who followed him and cherished.
Namu Amida Butsu, such is fate.



8

 


                MANY GODS                   9

  So again to idols
  Of the Buddha who is boundless,
While the temple drum is beating thro the rain,
  I have turned from treason
  Into Meditation's truth,
From the strife the Western god regards as gain.
  And if now I'm dying
  As the voices tell me,
To the lives that I must live I'll meekly go;
  Till my long grief ends
  In Nirvana, and my sighing.
Namu Amida Butsu, be it so!

 








LOVE IN JAPAN



         I

Dragon-fly lighting
On the temple-bell,
Whose soul do you bear
On the Day of the Dead
The soul of my lover
Ah me, the plighting
Between two hearts
That were never wed!



Dragon-fly, quickly,
The priest is coming!
Oh, the boom
Of the bitter bell!
        IO

 


MANY GODS



Now you are gone
And my tears fall thickly.
How of Heaven
Do the gods make Hell!




        II


The semi is silent
  (Autumn rains!)
The wind-bells tinkle
  (How chill it is!)
The quick lights come
On the shoji-panes.
Come, 0 Baku,
Eater of dreams!


The maple darkens
  (Pale grow I!)
The near night shivers
  (The temple fades.)



I I

 


12              MANY GODS

             Haunting love
             Will not cease to cryl
             Come, 0 Baku,
             Eater of dreams!


             The wild mists gather
               (Ah, my tears!)
             The pane-lights vanish
               (For some there is rest.)
             But for me -
             The remembered years!
             Come, 0 Baku,
             Eater of dreams!

 








MAPLE LEAVES ON MIYAJIMA



The summer has come,
The summer has gone,
And the maple leaves lift fairy hands
That ripple upon the winds of dawn
Where the dim pagoda stands.
They ripple and beckon yearningly
To their sister fairies over the sea,
But help comes not,
So they fall and flee
From Autumn over the sands.


And down the mountain.
And into the tide,
Some are blown where the sampans glide,
And some are strewn by the temple's side,
              '3

 



14                MANY GODS

        And some by the torii.
        But Autumn ever
        Pursues them till,
        As ever before,
        She has her will,
        And leaves them desolate, dead and still,
        Ravished afar and wide;
        Leaves them desolate; crying shrill,
        "No beauty shall abide!"

 







TYPHOON



          (At Hong-kong)

I was weary and slept on the Peak;
  The air clung close like a shroud,
And ever the blue-fly's buzz in my ear
  Hung haunting and hot and loud;
I awoke and the sky was dun
  With awe and a dread that soon
Went shuddering thro my heart, for I knew
  That it meant typhoon! typhoon!

In the harbour below, far down,
  The junks like fowl in a flock
Were tossing in wingless terror, or fled
  Fluttering in from the shock.
The city, a breathless bend
  Of roofs, by the water strewn,
                '5

 


MANY GODS



Lay silent and waiting, yet there was none
  Within it but said typhoon!

Then it came, like a million winds
  Gone mad immeasurably,
A torrid and tortuous tempest stung
  By rape of the fair South Sea.
And it swept like a scud escaped
  From craters of sun or moon,
And struck as no power of Heaven could,
  Or of Hell - typhoon! typhoon!

And the junks were smitten and torn,
  The drowning struggled and cried,
Or, dashed on the granite walls of the sea,
  In succourless hundreds died.
Till I shut the sight from my eyes
  And prayed for my soul to swoon:
If ever I see God's face, let it
  Be guiltless of that typhoon!



i6

 








PENANG



I want to go back to Singapore
  And ship along the Straits,
To a bungalow I know beside Penang;
  Where cocoanut palms along the shore
    Are waving, and the gates
Of Peace shut Sorrow out forevermore.
  I want to go back and hear the surf
    Come beating in at night,
Like the washing of eternity over the dead.
  I want to see dawn fare up and day
    Go down in golden light;
I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!


I want to go back to Singapore
  And up along the Straits
                  I7

 

MANY GODS



To the bungalow that waits me by the tide.
  Where the Tamil and Malay tell their lore
    At evening - and the fates
Have set no soothless canker at life's core.
  I want to go back and mend my heart
    Beneath the tropic moon,
While the tamarind-tree is whispering thoughts
        of sleep.
  I want to believe that Earth again
    With Heaven is in tune.
I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!



I want to go back to Singapore
  And ship along the Straits
To the bungalow I left upon the strand.
  Where the foam of the world grows faint before
    It enters, and abates
In meaning as I hear the palm-wind pour.
  I want to go back and end my days
    Some evening when the Cross



18

 



                MANY GODS                  '9

On the southern sky hangs heavily far and sad.
I want to remember when I die
   That life elsewhere was loss.
I want to go back to Penang! I want to go back!

 









WHEN THE WIND IS LOW



               (To A. H. R.)

When the wind is low, and the sea is soft,
  And the far heat-lightning plays
On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest
  On a darker bank of haze;
When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love
  And gaze to my heart's content;
I know that the heavens are there above-
  But you are my firmament.



When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow
And the watch climbs up the shroud;
When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips
Thro the foam that seethes aloud;
                    20

 


             MANY GODS                    21

I know that the years of our life are few,
  And fain as a bird to flee,
That time is as brief as a drop of dew -
  But you are Eternity.

 








THE PAGODA SLAVE



(At Shwe Dagohn, in old Rangoon)

All night long the pagoda slave
Hears the wind-bells high in the air
Tinkle with low sweet tongue and grave
    In praise of Lord Gautama.
All night long where the lone spire sends
Its golden height to the starry light
    He hears their tune
    And watches the moon
And fears he shall never reach Nirvana.


Round and round by a hundred shrines
Glittering at the great Shwe's base
Falls the sound of his feet mid lines
    Droned from the sacred Wisdom.
                 22

 


MANY GODS



Round and round where the idols gaze
So pitiless on his pained distress
    He passes on,
    Pale-eyed and wan-
A pariah like the dogs behind him.


Oh, what sin in a life begot
Thousands of lives ago did he sin
That he is now by all forgot,
    Even by Lord Gautama
Oh, what sin, that the lowest shun
His very name as a thing of shame -
    A sound to taint
    The winds that faint
From the high bells that hear it uttered!



Midnight comes and the hours of morn,
Tapers die and the flowers all
From the most feted altars: lorn
    And desolate is their odour.



23

 



4MANY GODS



Midnight goes, but he watches still
By each cold spire the moon sets fire,
    By every palm
    Whose silvery calm
Pillar and jewelled porch pray under.


Is it dawn that is breaking . . No,
Only a star that falls in the sea,
Only a wind-bell's louder flow
    Of praise to Lord Gautama.
Faithless dawn! with illusive feet
It comes too late to ease his fate.
    He sinks asleep
    A helpless heap,
Tho for it he may never reach Nirvana.



24

 








THE SHIPS OF THE SEA



Into port when the sun was setting
  Rode the ship that bore my love,
Over the breakers wildly fretting,
  Under the skies that shone above.



Down to the beach I ran to meet him;
  He would come as he had said:
And he came -in a sailor's coffin,
      Dead! . . . . . .


O the ships of the sea! the women
  They from all hope but Heaven part!
The tide has nothing now to tell me,
  The breakers only break my heart!



25

 







KINCHINJUNGA



(Which, is the next highest of mountains)

                    I

O white Priest of Eternity, around
Whose lofty summit veiling clouds arise
Of the earth's immemorial sacrifice
To Brahma in whose breath all lives and dies;
o Hierarch enrobed in timeless snows,
First-born of Asia whose maternal throes
Seem changed now to a million human woes,
Holy thou art and still! Be so, nor sound
One sigh of all the mystery in thee found.


                   II

For in this world too much is overclear,
Immortal Ministrant to many lands,
From whose ice-altars flow to fainting sands
                   26

 

MANY GODS



Rivers that each libation poured expands.
Too much is known, 0 Ganges-giving sire;
Thy people fathom life and find it dire,
Thy people fathom death, and, in it, fire
To live again, tho in Illusion's sphere,
Behold concealed as Grief is in a tear.

                    III

Wherefore continue, still enshrined, thy rites,
Tho dark Thibet, that dread ascetic, falls
In strange austerity, whose trance appals,
Before thee, and a suppliant on thee calls.
Continue still thy silence high and sure,
That something beyond fleeting may endure -
Something that shall forevermore allure
Imagination on to mystic flights
Wherein alone no wing of Evil lights.


                    IV

Yea, wrap thy awful gulfs and acolytes
Of lifted granite round with reachless snows.



2 7

 


MANY GODS



Stand for Eternity while pilgrim rows
Of all the nations envy thy repose.
Ensheath thy swart sublimities, unscaled.
Be that alone on earth which has not failed.
Be that which never yet has yearned or ailed,
But since primeval Power upreared thy heights
Has stood above all deaths and all delights.


                    V

And tho thy loftier Brother shall be King,
High-priest be thou to Brahma unrevealed,
While thy white sanctity forever sealed
In icy silence leaves desire congealed.
In ghostly ministrations to the sun,
And to the mendicant stars and the moon-nun,
Be holy still, till East to West has run,
And till no sacrificial suffering
On any shrine is left to tell life's sting.



28

 








THE BARREN WOMAN



          (Benares)

At the burning-ghat, 0 Kali,
  Mother divine and dread,
See, I am waiting with open lips
  Over the newly dead.
I am childless and barren; pity
  And let me catch the soul
Of him who here on the kindled bier
  Pays to Existence toll.


See, by his guileless body
  I cook the bread and eat.
Give me the soul he does not need
  Now, for conception sweet.
Hear, or my lord and husband
  Shall send me from his door
              29

 


30  MANY GODS



And take to his side a fairer bride
  Whose breast shall be less poor.



Oft I have sought thy temples,
  By Ganges now I seek,
Where ashes of all the dead are strewn,
  And is my prayer not meek
The ghats and the shrines and the people
  That bathe in the holy Stream
Have heard my cry, 0 goddess high,
  Shall I not have my dream



The women of Oudh and Jaipur
  Look on my face with scorn.
Children about their garments cling,
  To me shall none be born
The death-fires quiver faster,
  0 hasten, goddess, a sign.
That from this doom into my womb
Thy pledge has passed, divine.



30

 



          MANY GODS                   31

Woe! there is naught but ashes,
  Now, and the weepers go.
Lone on the ghat they leave me, lone,
  With but the River's flow.
Kali, I ask not jewels
  Nor justice, beauty nor shrift,
But for the lowest woman's right,
  A child - tho I die of the gift!

 








BY THE TAJ MAHAL



Under the Indian stars,
Mumtaz Mahal, I am sitting,
WVatching them wind their silent way
Over your wistful Tomb;
Watching the crescent prow
Of the moon among them flitting,
Fair as the shallop that bore your soul
To Paradise's Room.


Under the Indian stars,
With palm and peepul about me,
With dome and kiosk and minaret
Mounting against the sky,
I seem to see your face
In all the fairness without me;
              32

 

MANY GODS



In all the sadness that fills my heart
To hear your lover's cry.


Under the Indian stars
I look for your Jasmine Tower,
Along the River whose barren bed
Lies gray beneath the moon.
And thro its magic doors
You seem like a spirit flower,
Wandering back from Allah's bourne
To seek for some lost boon.



Under the Indian stars
I see you softly moving,
Among your jewel-lit maidens there,
A sweet and ghostly queen.
And the scent of attar flung
In your marble font seems proving
That passion never can die from love,
If truly love has been.



33

 



4MANY GODS



Under the Indian stars
He comes, " the Shadow of Allah,"
Jehan, the lord of Magnificence,
The liege who holds your heart.
The silver doors swing back
And alone with him you hallow
The amorous night-whose moon has made
Such visions in me start.


Under the Indian stars -
But the end of all is moaning!
I hear his dying breath that from
Your Tomb shall never die.
For every jasper flower
He set in its dream seems loaning
To Beauty a grief, Mumtaz Mahal,
And unto Fate a sigh.



34

 









LOVE'S CYNIC



O you poets, ever pretending
  Love is immortal, pipe the truth!
Empty your books of lies, the ending
  Of no passion can be -Youth.
"Heaven," you breathe, " will join the broken "
  Come, was the Infinite e'er wed,
That He must evermore be thinking
  Of your wedding bed


                   II

Pipe the truth! tho it clip the glamour
  Out of your rhymes and rip your dream.
Do you believe words can enamour
  Death and dry up Lethe's stream
                   35

 


MANY GODS



Death it is but a Sponge that passes,
  One the Appeaseless e'er will squeeze
Back into Lethe's flood-whose lasting
  Is eternities.


                 III

"False!" cry you, "and an unbeseeming
  Blasphemy! "- Well, look around.
Is it not only in blaspheming
  Truth is ever to be found
Whether it be, one thing I ask you,
  Lovers and poets, tell, I pray,
Was there ever a love-oath ended
  Ere the Judgment Day


                 IV

"O," you answer, "ill is in all things."
  But in an ancient lie what's good
Is it not better just to call things
  What they are -not what we would



36

 

MANY GODS



When you are clinging to your mistress,
  Love has the face of Eternity.
Cling to her then, but know that Wanting
  Fools the best that be.


               V

"Yet her brows and her eyes that murmur
  All the music," you say, "of God!"
Press her lips but a little firmer -
  You will feel that they are - sod.
"But there is living soul beyond them,
  And it is love's till all things end"
Children alone build Paradises
  With but pence to spend.


               VI

"Ai-ho now! that is like the cynic,"
  Pitying runs your poet-smile,
"He has sat at the Devil's clinic
  With some dead love up the while."



37

 


MANY GODS



Dead or alive are one with passions,
  Under the potent knife of Truth
They will be seen composed of craving-
  And a little ruth.



               VII

"Then the world on a lie is living"
  Many a lie has filled its maw!
"Better illusion tho than giving
  Faith to a fatal loveless Law"
There is a certain Socratean
  Saying that swine of their ditch are sure;
Yet do they prove by their contentment
  That it will endure


              VIII

Clasp her close! But the truth is in you,
  Tho you have rhymed and rammed it down,
Hid it with honey-words that win you
  Wreaths that you know bedeck the clown.



38

 

MANY GODS



Kings they will call you and uplifters
  Of your kind Lord save the mark,
That we are still for fire dependent
  On so false a spark.


                  Ix

And so fond! for you hold immortal
  What has been born a day or two!
"But it was destined"  Ay, your portal
  Only has God to heed - and you!
He with his thrice three million thirsting
  Worlds in the throes of death and life
Surely has time to spare for choosing
  Your behooven wife!


                 x

By my faith, there is not a creature
  Mad as a poet, pants the breeze!
Give him a mistress and he'll preach her
  As creation's Masterpiece.



39

 

MANY GODS



Let him but lean for half an hour
  Over her lips and he will swear
That he would dive thro death unfathomed
  To regain her there.


               XI

And believe that his oath is able!
  That there is not in all the sea
Water enough to quench the fable
  Of his soul's intensity.
Yet there was never a rose that blossomed
  And endured beyond its day.
There was never a fire enkindled
  But the great Cold had its way.


              XII

"Pessimist," is your mortal answer,
  "Wait till the love-wind pierces you!"
Wait I have been the veriest dancer
  To it, and, dupe still, would do



40

 


           MANY GODS                  41

Truth to the death - shall I confess it -
  For but a moment on one breast.
Wherefore I add -and Adam bless it! -
  Who loves once is like the rest.

 









          IN A TROPICAL GARDEN

               (Peradeniya, Ceylon)

                        I

The sun moves here as a master-mage of nature all
      day long,
  With fingers of heat and light that touch to a
      mystical growth all things.
The spell of him puts pale Time to sleep, as an opiate
      strange and strong,
  And a waft of his wand, the wind, enchantment
      brings.

                       II

The python roots of the rubber-tree where the cobra
      slips in peace
  Are wonders that he has waved from the earth as
      a presage of his power.
                      42

 


MANY GODS



And the giant stems of the bamboo-grass, the pool
      astounded, sees,
  Are a marvel to keep it still hour after hour.


                        III

The long lianas that reach in dreamy rout from tree
      to tree
  Are dazed with the sense of sap that he calls to
      the tangle of their sprays.
The scarlet-hearted hibiscus stands entranced and
      the torrid bee
  Is husht upon its rim, as in amaze


                        IV

And there the palms, the talipot with its lofty blossom-
      spire,
  The cocoanut and the slim areca listening await
What sorceries of his trembling rays of equatorial
      fire
  Will next be laid upon some lesser mate.



43

 

MANY GODS



                        V

The river, too, that he winds as a magic circle round
      the wealth
  He has here engendered, has the glide of a serpent
      lost in trance;
And scents of clove and cinnamon that sip cool from
      it, in stealth
  Pour it upon the air like necromance.


                        VI

And down where the rain-tree and the rife bread-
      fruit together lean
  Over its flow, and the flying-foxes hanging head
      to earth
Suddenly drop then flap aloft on large bat-wing, is
      seen
  More of his mazing wizardry in birth.


                       VII

All day long it is so that his hot hypnotic eye
      commands



44

 

                  MANY GODS                    45

  With steady ray; and the earth obedient brings
      enchantment forth.
All night long in the humid dark the high-voiced
      hyla-bands
  Chant of it in chill strain from South to North.

                      Vm

A wondrous mage, in a land whose dreams are made
      reality
  As swift as clouds are made when the young
      Monsoon is in the South.
A land that is born of the sea and by it destined e'er
      to be
  Beyond all fear of famishing and drouth.

 









THE WIND'S WORD



  A star that I love,
  The sea, and I,
Spake together across the night.
  "Have peace," said the star,
  "Have power," said the sea,
"Yea! " I answered, "and Fame's delight!"


  The wind on his way
  To Araby
Paused and listened and sighed and said,
  "I passed on the sands
  A Pharaoh's tomb:
All these did he have - and he is dead."



46

 








THE SHRINE OF SHRINES



There is in Egypt by the ancient Nile
A temple of imperishable stone,
Stupendous, columned, hieroglyphed, and known
To all the world as Faith's supremest shrine.
Half in debris it stands, a granite pile
Gigantic, stayed midway in resurrection,
An awe, an inspiration, a dejection
To all who would the cryptic past divine.
The god of it was Ammon, and a throng
Of worshippers from Thebes the royal-gated
Forever at its fervid pylons waited
While priests poured ever a prophetic song.
And yet this Ammon, who gave Egypt laws,
Is not - and is forgot - and never was!



47

 







FROM A FELUCCA



A white tomb in the desert,
An Arab at his prayers
Beside the Nile's dark water,
Where the lone camel fares.
An ibis on the sunset,
A slow shadouf at rest,
And in the caravansary
Low music for the guest.

Above the tawny city
A gleam of minarets,
Resounding the muezzin's
Clear call as the sun sets.
A mystery, a silence,
A breathing of strange balm,
A peace from Allah on the wind
And on the sky his calm.
           48

 








THE EGYPTIAN WAKES



I woke at night in my eternal tomb
The desert sands had hid a thousand years,
And heard the Nile-crier across the gloom
Calling, "The flood has come! beseech the gods"
I rose in haste, as one who blindly hears,
And sought the barterers of grain and wine
Culled for the praise and service of divine
Great Isis, by the slave who for her plods.
But as I passed along, woe! what was this,
Strange faces and strange fashions and strange fanes
Standing upon the midnight; Oh, the pains
That swept across my startled thought's abyss!
I moaned. My body crumbled into dust.
And then my soul fled Here - where all souls must.



4Q

 








THE IMAM'S PARABLE



Behold, the wind of the Desert rose,
  Khamsin, in a shroud of sand,
And swept the Libyan waste, across
  To far Somali-land.
His voice was thick with the drouth of death
And smote the earth as a burning breath,
Or as a curse which Allah saith
  Unto a demon-band.



The caravan from the oasis
  Of palm-engirt KirkCir
Shuddered and couched in shaken heaps,
  The horror to endure.
Its mighty Sheik, like a soul in Hell
Who longs for the lute of Israfel,
                  50

 


              MANY GODS                    5:

Longed for the trickle of Keneh's well,
  Imperishably pure!


Three days he longed, and the wind three days
  About him whirled the shroud.
Then did a shrill dawn bring the sun -
  And a gaunt vulture-crowd.
A few bleak bones on the Desert still
Lie for the Judgment Day to thrill
Again into life - if Allah will:
  Let not your heart be proud.

 








SONGS OF A SEA-FARER



            I

Many are on the sea to-day
  With all sails set.
The tide rolls in a restive gray,
  The wind blows wet.
The gull is weary of his wings,
And I am weary of all things.


Heavy upon me longing lies,
  My sad eyes gaze
Across the leagues that sink and rise
  And sink always.
My life has sunk and risen so,
I'd have it cease awhile to flow.



52

 


MANY GODS



               II

All the winds of the sea weary,
  All the waves of the sea rest,
All the wants of my heart settle
  Softly now in my breast.
All the stars that in heaven anchor,
  Golden buoys of Elysian light,
Send me across the gulf promise
  That I am faring right.



So while clouds that are left lonely
  At the gates of the far West
Wait, so still, for the moon's stiller
  Stealing from her nest,
I am held by a low vesper
  Haunting afar the vague twilight,
Then with my soul at peace whisper
  Hallowedly good-night.



53

 








A SONG OF THE SECTS



            (In a Jerusalem tavern)

A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian
    and Copt,
And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've
    together sopped.
Not one of us but spits at the creed the others mouth
    and purr,
But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre!

              The Armenian sings

The Copt comes out of Egypt-land and with a brag-
    gart face
He'll tell you that his fathers piled the Pyramids in
    place.
                        54

 

MANY GODS



In his Monophysite Christ we set no faith, the
    blasphemer!
But we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre!

                The Latin sings

The Greek will curse you if you call his Ikons images,
And damns your soul to Hell -no purgatory, if
    you please!
About Procession of the Ghost he's prickly as a burr,
But he believes, as we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre !

                 The Copt sings

Of heretics God leaves unburnt, Armenians are
    worst,
They will not celebrate the Day, that was for Christ
    the first.
No wine with water mixed for them, as well mix
    heathen myrrh -
Or not believe, as we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre !



55

 


MANY GODS



                The Greek sings

The Latin swears his Roman Pope is judge infallible.
Wherefore you may be very sure the Devil from his
    skull
Will drink a toast unto all liars, who such a lie
    aver -
Tho they believe, as we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre!

                 The Four again

A Latin and Greek, praise God, are we, Armenian
    and Copt,
And we're all drunk as drunk can be, for we've
    together sopped.
Not one of us but hankers to hang all Jews on a
    Juniper,
For we all believe, we all believe, in the Holy
    Sepulchre!

 







THE CITY



Soft and fair by the Desert's edge,
  And on the dim blue edge of the sea,
Where white gulls wing all day and fledge
Their young on the high cliff's sandy ledge,
There is a city I have beheld,
Sometime or where, by day or dream,
I know not which, for it seems enspelled
  As I am by its memory.

Pale minarets of the Prophet pierce
  Above it into the white of the skies,
And sails enchanted a thousand years
Flit at its feet while fancy steers.
No face of all its faces to me
Is known - no passion of it or pain.
It is but a city by the sea,
  Enshrined forever beyond my eyes!
                  57

 







VIA AMOROSA



          (To A. H. R.)

When we two walk, my love, on the path
  The moon makes over the sea,
To the end of the world where sorrow hath
  An end that is ecstasy,
Should we not think of the other road
  Of wearying dust and stone
Our feet would fare did each but care
To follow the way alone


When we two slip at night to the skies
  And find one star that we keep
As a trysting-place to which our eyes
  May lead our souls ere sleep,
Should we not pause for a little space
  And think how many must sigh