PART IV.

By Conrad Aiken

‘ This envelope you say has something in it

Which once belonged to your dead son — or something

He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?—

The soul flies far, and we can only call it

By things like these... a photograph, a letter,

Ribbon, or charm, or watch...'

... Wind flows softly, the long slow even wind,

Over the low roofs white with snow;

Wind blows, bearing cold clouds over the ocean,

One by one they melt and flow,—

Streaming one by one over trees and towers,

Coiling and gleaming in shafts of sun;

Wind flows, bearing clouds; the hurrying shadows

Flow under them one by one...

'... A spirit darkens before me... it is the spirit

Which in the flesh you called your son... A spirit

Young and strong and beautiful...

He says that he is happy, is much honored;

Forgives and is forgiven... rain and wind

Do not perplex him... storm and dust forgotten..

The glittering wheels in wheels of time are broken

And laid aside...'

‘ Ask him why he did the thing he did!’

‘ He is unhappy. This thing, he says, transcends you:

Dust cannot hold what shines beyond the dust...

What seems calamity is less than a sigh;

What seems disgrace is nothing.’

‘ Ask him if the one he hurt is there,

And if she loves him still!’

‘ He tells you she is there, and loves him still,—

Not as she did, but as all spirits love...

A cloud of spirits has gathered about him.

They praise him and call him, they do him honor;

He is more beautiful, he shines upon them.’

... Wind flows softly, the long deep tremulous wind,

Over the low roofs white with snow...

Wind flows, bearing dreams; they gather and vanish,

One by one they sing and flow;

Over the outstretched lands of days remembered,

Over remembered tower and wall,

One by one they gather and talk in the darkness,

Rise and glimmer and fall...

‘ Ask him why he did the thing he did!

He knows I will understand!’

‘ It is too late:

He will not hear me: I have lost my power.’

‘ Three times I've asked him! He will never tell me.

God have mercy upon him. I will ask no more.’