But not in the world as voices storm-shatter'd,
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
Lascelles Abercrombie - Emblems of Love
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Emblems Of Love, by Lascelles Abercrombie
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. net
Title: Emblems Of Love
Author: Lascelles Abercrombie
Release Date: March 26, 2005 [EBook #15472]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMBLEMS OF LOVE ***
Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, S. R. Ellison
and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
INTERLUDES AND POEMS
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
DESIGNED IN SEVERAL DISCOURSES
BY LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE
_"Wonder it is to see in diverse mindes
How diversly love doth his pageaunts play"
"Ego tamquam centrum, circuli, cui simili modo
se habent circumferentiæ partes"_
TO MY WIFE
TABLE
page
HYMN TO LOVE 3
PART I DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE 7
VASHTI 16
PART II IMPERFECTION
THREE GIRLS IN LOVE:
MARY: A LEGEND OF THE '45 77
JEAN 94
KATRINA 109
PART III VIRGINITY AND PERFECTION
JUDITH 127
THE ETERNAL WEDDING 188
MARRIAGE SONG 200
EPILOGUE: DEDICATION 209
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
HYMN TO LOVE
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
As thóu, Lóve, were the déep thóught
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
Thy fires of thought out-spoken:
But burn'd not through us thy imagining
Like fiérce móod in a sóng cáught,
We were as clamour'd words a fool may fling,
Loose words, of meaning broken.
For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,--
The lives travelling dark fears,
And as a boy throws pebbles in a pool
Thrown down abysmal places?
Hazardous are the stars, yet is our birth
And our journeying time theirs;
As words of air, life makes of starry earth
Sweet soul-delighted faces;
As voices are we in the worldly wind;
The great wind of the world's fate
Is turned, as air to a shapen sound, to mind
And marvellous desires.
But not in the world as voices storm-shatter'd,
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
For Love doth use us for a sound of song,
And Love's meaning our life wields,
Making our souls like syllables to throng
His tunes of exultation.
Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,
As rain blown along earth's fields;
Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,
Sung joys of adoration;
Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,
We go charged with a strong flame;
For as a language Love hath seized on life
His burning heart to story.
Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee.
Thy thought's golden and glad name,
The mortal conscience of immortal glee,
Love's zeal in Love's own glory.
PART I
DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE
_Night on bleak downs; a high grass-grown trench runs
athwart the slope.
But not in the world as voices storm-shatter'd,
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
For Love doth use us for a sound of song,
And Love's meaning our life wields,
Making our souls like syllables to throng
His tunes of exultation.
Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,
As rain blown along earth's fields;
Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,
Sung joys of adoration;
Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,
We go charged with a strong flame;
For as a language Love hath seized on life
His burning heart to story.
Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee.
Thy thought's golden and glad name,
The mortal conscience of immortal glee,
Love's zeal in Love's own glory.
PART I
DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE
_Night on bleak downs; a high grass-grown trench runs
athwart the slope. The earthwork is manned by
warriors clad in hides. Two warriors, BRYS and
GAST, talking_.
_Gast_.
This puts a tall heart in me, and a tune
Of great glad blood flowing brave in my flesh,
To see thee, after all these moons, returned,
My Brys. If there's no rust in thy shoulder-joints,
That battle-wrath of thine, and thy good throwing,
Will be more help for us than if the dyke
Were higher by a span. --Ha! there was howling
Down in the thicket; they come soon, for sure.
_Brys_.
Has there been hunger in the forest long?
_Gast_.
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. net
Title: Emblems Of Love
Author: Lascelles Abercrombie
Release Date: March 26, 2005 [EBook #15472]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMBLEMS OF LOVE ***
Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, S. R. Ellison
and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
INTERLUDES AND POEMS
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
DESIGNED IN SEVERAL DISCOURSES
BY LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE
_"Wonder it is to see in diverse mindes
How diversly love doth his pageaunts play"
"Ego tamquam centrum, circuli, cui simili modo
se habent circumferentiæ partes"_
TO MY WIFE
TABLE
page
HYMN TO LOVE 3
PART I DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE 7
VASHTI 16
PART II IMPERFECTION
THREE GIRLS IN LOVE:
MARY: A LEGEND OF THE '45 77
JEAN 94
KATRINA 109
PART III VIRGINITY AND PERFECTION
JUDITH 127
THE ETERNAL WEDDING 188
MARRIAGE SONG 200
EPILOGUE: DEDICATION 209
EMBLEMS OF LOVE
HYMN TO LOVE
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
As thóu, Lóve, were the déep thóught
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
Thy fires of thought out-spoken:
But burn'd not through us thy imagining
Like fiérce móod in a sóng cáught,
We were as clamour'd words a fool may fling,
Loose words, of meaning broken.
For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,--
The lives travelling dark fears,
And as a boy throws pebbles in a pool
Thrown down abysmal places?
Hazardous are the stars, yet is our birth
And our journeying time theirs;
As words of air, life makes of starry earth
Sweet soul-delighted faces;
As voices are we in the worldly wind;
The great wind of the world's fate
Is turned, as air to a shapen sound, to mind
And marvellous desires.
But not in the world as voices storm-shatter'd,
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
For Love doth use us for a sound of song,
And Love's meaning our life wields,
Making our souls like syllables to throng
His tunes of exultation.
Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,
As rain blown along earth's fields;
Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,
Sung joys of adoration;
Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,
We go charged with a strong flame;
For as a language Love hath seized on life
His burning heart to story.
Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee.
Thy thought's golden and glad name,
The mortal conscience of immortal glee,
Love's zeal in Love's own glory.
PART I
DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE
_Night on bleak downs; a high grass-grown trench runs
athwart the slope.
But not in the world as voices storm-shatter'd,
Not borne down by the wind's weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness filled with fires.
For Love doth use us for a sound of song,
And Love's meaning our life wields,
Making our souls like syllables to throng
His tunes of exultation.
Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,
As rain blown along earth's fields;
Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,
Sung joys of adoration;
Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,
We go charged with a strong flame;
For as a language Love hath seized on life
His burning heart to story.
Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee.
Thy thought's golden and glad name,
The mortal conscience of immortal glee,
Love's zeal in Love's own glory.
PART I
DISCOVERY AND PROPHECY
PRELUDE
_Night on bleak downs; a high grass-grown trench runs
athwart the slope. The earthwork is manned by
warriors clad in hides. Two warriors, BRYS and
GAST, talking_.
_Gast_.
This puts a tall heart in me, and a tune
Of great glad blood flowing brave in my flesh,
To see thee, after all these moons, returned,
My Brys. If there's no rust in thy shoulder-joints,
That battle-wrath of thine, and thy good throwing,
Will be more help for us than if the dyke
Were higher by a span. --Ha! there was howling
Down in the thicket; they come soon, for sure.
_Brys_.
Has there been hunger in the forest long?
_Gast_.
