I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of celestial journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of celestial journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
Stefan George - Selections from His Works and Others
49
Now let me call across the snow-clad meadows 50
There were no ruins, neither fragments 51
In sorrow day and night the disciple watched 52
Sunlight slantingly flows 53
The wild resplendence of the year resolves 54
Doth live for thee again, Beloved that October? 55
In white and glowing blossomy undulation 57
Stars ascend up there 58
Par from the harbour's noise 59
My child came home 60
Love calls not worthy him whoe'er renounced 61
Behold the crossways 62
Windows where I gazed with you 63
Whene'er I stand upon your bridge 64
? FROM
HYMNS, PILGRIMAGES, ALGABAL
ERRATA
Page 20, line 11, for " Brief " read " Grief. "
Page 34, line 5, for " put" read "but. "
Page 63, line 8, for " through " read " threw. "
?
? From--" Visions
I may not lean across the wicket, turning
My gaze so long towards the lawn,
I hear a mellow flute's afar-off yearning.
Amid the laurels laughs a fawn.
Whene'er I meet you at the ruddy tower,
You ne'er reward me with more gentle tread,
You know not how I prize this sacred hour,
How sad I am when it is dead.
Denying that which mine own spirit guesses
--Our great and ancient fame is also known--
Can I tear off the scarf which veils my tresses,
And with an early widowhood atone?
Oh may he glean my lips delights unbidden,
--I gleaned them all since as a dream he rose--
The oleanders "mid the fragrance hidden
And others smiling as the jasmin blows.
I may not lean across the wicket, turning
My gaze so long towards the lawn,
I hear a mellow flute's afar-off yearning,
Amid the laurels laughs a fawn.
11
? From--" Days"
As on the languorous settle
Slumber evaded me long,
Then bring me no wondrous saga,
Nor sooth me with slumbrous song
From maidens of mythical regions
That favoured my fancy erewhile,
But snare me into your bondage
Flute-players from the Nile.
I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of celestial journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
Before my burning eyelids
At last me with slumber beguile,
O! carry me distant and kill me
Flute-players from the Nile!
12
? Auguration
Silvery swallows I saw flying,
Swallows snow and silver white,
In the breezes lullabying,
In the breezes hot and light.
Coloured jackdaws I saw hiding,
Paroquets and kolibri,
Through the magic branches gliding
In the woods of Tusfery.
Great black ravens I saw flutt'ring,
Caddows black and sombre gray,
In the enchanted coppice strutting
'Mid the adders on the way.
And again I see them flying,
Swarms of swallows silver white,
In the breezes lullabying,
In the breezes brisk and bright.
13
?
? FROM
THE BOOK OF THE SHEPHERDS,
OF PRIZE POEMS, SONGS AND
SAYINGS, AND THE HANGING
GARDENS
?
? Songs of a Strolling Player
THROUGH the blossoms softly simmer
Drops profound and fair
Since the light-beams o'er them shimmer.
And if I should languish, jaded,
That which was erewhile unknown
Now to me this day is clear,
That my final hope hath flown:
That your joys for me have faded
New-born sun, and youthful year.
17
? WERE it much to implore thee,
If devoutly, once,
I might kneel before thee
After suffering long?
Now let me call across the snow-clad meadows 50
There were no ruins, neither fragments 51
In sorrow day and night the disciple watched 52
Sunlight slantingly flows 53
The wild resplendence of the year resolves 54
Doth live for thee again, Beloved that October? 55
In white and glowing blossomy undulation 57
Stars ascend up there 58
Par from the harbour's noise 59
My child came home 60
Love calls not worthy him whoe'er renounced 61
Behold the crossways 62
Windows where I gazed with you 63
Whene'er I stand upon your bridge 64
? FROM
HYMNS, PILGRIMAGES, ALGABAL
ERRATA
Page 20, line 11, for " Brief " read " Grief. "
Page 34, line 5, for " put" read "but. "
Page 63, line 8, for " through " read " threw. "
?
? From--" Visions
I may not lean across the wicket, turning
My gaze so long towards the lawn,
I hear a mellow flute's afar-off yearning.
Amid the laurels laughs a fawn.
Whene'er I meet you at the ruddy tower,
You ne'er reward me with more gentle tread,
You know not how I prize this sacred hour,
How sad I am when it is dead.
Denying that which mine own spirit guesses
--Our great and ancient fame is also known--
Can I tear off the scarf which veils my tresses,
And with an early widowhood atone?
Oh may he glean my lips delights unbidden,
--I gleaned them all since as a dream he rose--
The oleanders "mid the fragrance hidden
And others smiling as the jasmin blows.
I may not lean across the wicket, turning
My gaze so long towards the lawn,
I hear a mellow flute's afar-off yearning,
Amid the laurels laughs a fawn.
11
? From--" Days"
As on the languorous settle
Slumber evaded me long,
Then bring me no wondrous saga,
Nor sooth me with slumbrous song
From maidens of mythical regions
That favoured my fancy erewhile,
But snare me into your bondage
Flute-players from the Nile.
I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of celestial journeys,
Ye sang of the glorious dead.
Before my burning eyelids
At last me with slumber beguile,
O! carry me distant and kill me
Flute-players from the Nile!
12
? Auguration
Silvery swallows I saw flying,
Swallows snow and silver white,
In the breezes lullabying,
In the breezes hot and light.
Coloured jackdaws I saw hiding,
Paroquets and kolibri,
Through the magic branches gliding
In the woods of Tusfery.
Great black ravens I saw flutt'ring,
Caddows black and sombre gray,
In the enchanted coppice strutting
'Mid the adders on the way.
And again I see them flying,
Swarms of swallows silver white,
In the breezes lullabying,
In the breezes brisk and bright.
13
?
? FROM
THE BOOK OF THE SHEPHERDS,
OF PRIZE POEMS, SONGS AND
SAYINGS, AND THE HANGING
GARDENS
?
? Songs of a Strolling Player
THROUGH the blossoms softly simmer
Drops profound and fair
Since the light-beams o'er them shimmer.
And if I should languish, jaded,
That which was erewhile unknown
Now to me this day is clear,
That my final hope hath flown:
That your joys for me have faded
New-born sun, and youthful year.
17
? WERE it much to implore thee,
If devoutly, once,
I might kneel before thee
After suffering long?
