THE LAKE OF GAUBE

The sun is lord and god, sublime, serene,

And sovereign on the mountains: earth and air

Lie prone in passion, blind with bliss unseen

By force of sight and might of rapture, fair

As dreams that die and know not what they were.

The lawns, the gorges, and the peaks, are one

Glad glory, thrilled with sense of unison

In strong compulsive silence of the sun.

Flowers dense and keen as midnight stars aflame

And living things of light like flames in flower

That glance and flash as though no hand might tame

Lightnings whose life outshone their stormlit hour

And played and laughed on earth, with all their power

Gone, and with all their joy of life made long

And harmless as the lightning life of song,

Shine sweet like stars when darkness feels them strong.

The deep mild purple flaked with moonbright gold

That makes the scales seem flowers of hardened light,

The flamelike tongue, the feet that noon leaves cold,

The kindly trust in man, when once the sight

Grew less than strange, and faith bade fear take flight,

Outlive the little harmless life that shone

And gladdened eyes that loved it, and was gone

Ere love might fear that fear had looked thereon.

Fear held the bright thing hateful, even as fear,

Whose name is one with hate and horror, saith

That heaven, the dark deep heaven of water near,

Is deadly deep as hell and dark as death.

The rapturous plunge that quickens blood and breath

With pause more sweet than passion, ere they strive

To raise again the limbs that yet would dive

Deeper, should there have slain the soul alive.

Whose thought has fathomed and measured

The darkness of life and of death,

The secret within them treasured,

The spirit that is not breath?

Whose vision has yet beholden

The splendour of death and of life?

Though sunset as dawn be golden,

Is the word of them peace, not strife?

Deep silence answers: the glory

We dream of may be but a dream,

And the sun of the soul wax hoary

As ashes that show not a gleam.

But well shall it be with us ever

Who drive through the darkness here,

If the soul that we live by never,

For aught that a lie saith, fear.