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Read Ebook: Ioläus The man that was a ghost by Mackereth James Allan
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Ebook has 152 lines and 14234 words, and 4 pages
Title Poem: Page
Iol?us 13
Sonnets:
IOL?US:
THE MAN THAT WAS A GHOST
Gold light across the golden coomb; The sun went west with horns of fire; Athwart the sweet, sea-breathing room The swallows swooped; the village spire Glowed red against a gleam of broom; While earth its scented secrets told, There, silent, sunset-aureoled, Sat Iol?us, mild and old.
In distance large the moving ships Sailed on into the evening skies. He gazed, and saw not. In eclipse He tensely sat, like one who grips Some semblance that his dream descries, With such a look of far surprise That half-uncanny seemed the man, So warped with age, so weirdly wan: He had such ghostly eyes.
Then half to self, and half to me, Aloof in passion and lone despair, He spoke like one whose secrets flee From silence unaware: Now plaintively from a grief gone blind, Heavy with cumbering care, Now, thrilling thought like a white sea-wind, His words, the echoes of his mind, Haunted the air:
... 'Tis gone like the roses of long ago: Yet a dawn's impassioned thrill Makes blush the blossom's virgin snow Far on in a faery hill. Two faces there in the glamour glow In a place that is strangely still.
On the rim of the world is a ruined tower Sky-poised above wide sea-foam, Where a beautiful spirit waits hour by hour, Far-eyed 'gainst a dawn like a phantom flower, Till a ghostly lover comes home....
To leeward spread the freshening deep Purple beneath a rosy gleam. From a high, mist-engirdled steep Thin anthems to the orient beam Came faint as languid waves of sleep That lap the lonely strands of dream.
We sank our anchor solemnly Into that lustrous, splendid sea; For we, that chased the summer's smile Across the world a wondering while, Hailed at the heart the Happy Isle, The haunted shores of Fa?ry!
Beyond a gently-heaving brine We broke with oars a trembling bay. The swerving water, like rare wine, Slid iridescent from our way. A lovely hand was laid on mine Pensively as to say: "Life is divine!"
The drifting, witching wonder grew. From out the burgeoning bounds of space It seemed some morn unearthly drew To that grave glamourous place, Where, fearful of some far adieu, I talked with one who never knew The peril of her face.
The joy that lives is mightier far Than foretaste of all grief unborn. The earth to youth is a silver star That glitters on the edge of morn, A star! a star! a dancing star.
The fair, the mystic, happy morn! Dawn glimmered on the gladdening sea; Each zephyr blew an elfin horn To echoes in felicity. All sounds to silver rhythm ran: Came flutings as from piping Pan In purpled hills of Arcady!
Seaward we heard the breakers roar; And the belated nightingales Sang all their moonlight raptures o'er, Enchanted still in echoing vales. We lingered by the brightening shore; We leapt upon the roseate strand: The joy that in our hearts we bore We loved, nor longed to understand. Soft siren voices evermore Chanted to chimes in Faeryland.
O, life was like a bird that sings At morning on a vernal bough! The springtide at the heart of things Sang as the spring knows how. And fair was she, and both were young; We knew not what made time so good; Nature with glamour-tutored tongue Spread glory in the blood.
We climbed the dim and dreaming streets: We reached a plateau crowned with pine: The leaning roses breathed their sweets 'Mid many a subtle-scented vine. We wreathed our brows with ivy-twine.
In mouldering majesty sublime, Misty with eld, the mute of time, A castle, dawn-enchanted, there Above th' abyss sheer, shimmering fair, Hung like a perilous dream in air. Poised on a dizzy turret high, Enfolded with the gorgeous sky, We listened, she and I, In wonder, 'mazed. Without a word A soul had spoken, soul had heard. All suddenly came, charged with tears, The sweetness of the human years.
We saw deep forests far away Kindle to meet the kiss of day; And mists with morn's delight uprise Like love thoughts in a maiden's eyes. We shared the dream that never dies.
Our hearts were hushed with vague desire; We breathed in kingdoms wildly new, Enthralled by Memnon's mystic lyre In regions whence the Phnix flew; Dumb splendour round us blown, and higher On heaven's deep dome--the peacock's hue, Bright flakes of crimsoning fire!
Dew-fresh was all the wavering air. We heard the reef's far rollers croon About the ocean's margent, where Loitered the waning moon ... So fond the hour; the scene so fair; And fate came home so soon ... Some sorrow wept,--I knew not where. Some sudden presence made the air Chill as the breathless moon.
Silent, upon a lonelier steep, I gazed across a deeper deep, Where the pale mists pass from the isles of sleep.--
Lost voices called in other years: Old sweetness like a breaking grief Rose in the heart and stung to tears: In that clear moment brief Life's dearest, dead so long before, Returned to bless and die once more.
The faintly crooning sabbath bells At evening in the golden fells I heard; the tinkle of the rills In haunts where childish fancy fed; I saw the orchard daffodils About the calm homestead; Ah, saddest thought that ever fills An errant heart that memory thrills, The heath-smell of his homeland hills To one whose loves are dead ...
What yearnings burn the human breast; What wild desires like prisoned birds Impel the heart from east to west; What urgings baffling words Beat up from nature unexpressed Till soul distinct stands manifest, On guard for heaven, or, wanton, hurled Toward judgment through the world.
Long following beauty's floating flame Beneath the sky from sea to sea No isle of rest, no haven could claim The lonely, homeless heart in me. Sick loneliness no more should be Companion to my soul, for She To fill the questing vision came, Came down the breadths of blossoming foam To give to loveliness a name, To happiness a home!
Yet thought toward passion moved with dread, Like one who, hurrying to be wed, Steps, darkling, on the dead.
Far down we saw mute wavelets leap Feebly as though remembering sleep; The wheeling sea-birds proudly sway In glory o'er the opal bay;-- But at the heart the world grew grey; Some joy had perished from the day; Some love was grieving far away.
No voice stirred through the haunted hill Touched with the morn's inviolate gleam. All fearfully wild heart and will Drank rapture in the face of ill! Our spirits thrilled to answer thrill, And trembled in their dream.
Ah meekness mute with tragedy!... My body stirred as in a grave, And looked forth wonderingly ... The everlasting sea serene 'Neath everlasting sky Shone, and across the morning sheen The deathless winds went by. And a face was there that I never had seen; And a shadow stood where a glory had been; The beauty hung at my heart like pain; And love was lovely, but life was bane, For all should die,--but the wonder remain, And the earth, and the sea, and the sky ...
The hills have winds, the fields have flowers; Not all alone is the wintry tree; The stars that gleam in cloudy bowers Have stars for company; The waste hath peace of the drifting hours; And night brings joy to the hoary sea:
But the heart of man is a lonely thing; And lone the soul of the secret vows, With its wasted love and its wounded wing, In a withered world that hath no spring, No burgeoning boughs: The soul of man is the loneliest thing In life's eternal wandering That God allows ...
O, isle of dreams, and orient shore! Ah miracle in sea and sky! Ah youth that fleeting love made soar To heaven! The glory upon high To dusk hath waned, yet comes once more A wonder and a cry!...
The ship's bell tolled off that fair land; The sails bulged buoyantly: The sun rose mute, and large, and bland; The favouring wind swung free. We stood from that enchanted strand Into the morning sea.
We rode down swinging winds away, Far o'er the moving waters wan, Seen low at pale meridan, The land was grey.
The dusk came down; and like a ghost Rose the sad moon; the waves 'gan moan: There on the deep no kindly coast,-- The dark alone.
And in two faces stared, and stared The being without blood or breath, The stilly spectre, horror-haired, That haunteth all he murdereth; At noon, at midnight stared, and stared When sunrise flashed, when sunset flared, The grizzly phantom horror-haired:--
Stalking frail beauty to her grave I saw him moving evermore A stealthy wanderer on the wave, A shrouded shadow on the shore, The worm his bondsman, and the brave His victims evermore ...
The Power that drives all mortal things, Upbuoys all being's wanderings, Moved in the void his urgent wings ...
On down the weltering world we sped; Across the lonely, drifting noon; Along the wreath?d tides we fled Beneath the memoried moon. Sad love pursued where sorrow led; And beauty, waiting to be dead, Kissed under the dead moon.
Love, speechless, yearned in hopeless eyes; And hearts that hungered craved in vain. Dumb pity heard sad pity's sighs; And grief soothed grief again. Fond smile to smile sent faint replies, And faded back to pain.
Entangled in the toils of fate, Two stood at Eden's open gate-- Banned, in a world found desolate ... And love made league with hate ... All time's long woe since man's wet eyes Peered toward a promised paradise Pressed home,--the weight of smothered cries, Dead dreams, and hopeless pain Of souls in silence slain.
The lustrous clouds trailed proudly by: And through a rift of dazzling sky I cursed God with a dreary cry ...
The silence of the starry night; The silver of the moonlit sea; And loud in secret, stern, and trite, The pulse of destiny. Ah sadness scourged with doomed delight! Ah wondrous misery!
Pale topsails in the offing shone, And faded into foam: And down the noontide, one by one, The pale, proud ships would roam; Each sailor to his love went on; Each wanderer to his home.
And, ceasing not, death's nearing knell Tolled in a heart that dreamed no more. Our lips shook, sad as lips in hell; But, fearful of the rending shore, To fill all time with sad farewell We would have sailed for evermore!
For pleasantly a song she'd croon, And feign the world a kindly place; And tender was the haunting tune To match her haunting grace; And tenderly the witching moon Toyed with her feeling face ...
Our love was like the scent of flowers To her who watches by the bed Of one that dies in the dark hours, The one her youth had wed: At dawn she scares her tears away, And through the cloud-enamelled day Jests bravely for their bread.
She shared with all the brighter part; The witching sallies lightly flew; Her thoughts seemed, spilt by subtle art, Half tear-drops and half dew. They loved her for her gracious heart, And the glad winds blew.
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