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Ranolf and Amohia

IX

IX.

You know it, dearest! and just now,
To see you looking forth and far,
As bright, soft, bold and beautiful
As some outstanding steady Star,
With full assurance so serene,
Such radiant love upon your brow—
Might make the wretch most doubting, dull,
Catch confidence from yours, my queen!"
page 325 "Nay, surely 'twere a little thing,
My soul to yours should choose to cling;
Not stay to vex, as others do,
Poor wretches who may break taboo"

"So then you think, if this sweet breath
Were stopped—these kindling eyes were closed—
These lovely living limbs reposed
In rigid, stirless, icy death,
My loving Amo would not be
Gone—perished—-done with utterly! "

"Nay, what have these to do with me—
With me who speak to—love you so?
How strange a fancy!—tell me then
For you know all things, you white men,
What course my Spirit, down below,
If to that land before your own
It chanced to go (I know, behind
It could not, would not stay alone!)
Should take with least delay to find
And fly to your dear heart, and show
The deep and deathless love, I know,
It would be burning to bestow? "—

"What can I tell you! you know more,
Dearest, yourself—as much at least;
Do you remember, once before
I told you, love, I was no priest,
No learned Tóhunga—not I——"
page 326 "But tell me what your wise men say,
And all about us when we die;
You laughed at us, I know, that day,
Too proud to give a true reply!"

"Our wise men, Amo!—sooth to say, the most
Of these, just now seem doing as one day
A great white War-chief did to find a way
O'er shallow sea-flats when the ford was lost.
Straight through the rising tide his band he sent
In all directions radiating round,
Resolved to follow him who furthest went,
And footing most secure the longest found.
So seem our Sages wandering, all and each.
Some struggle through the weltering waves and sink,
Still panting for the shore they never reach;
Some plod along complacently and think
Already they enjoy the wished-for beach;
Some crouch upon a rock-reef close at hand
Whence leads no path, and swear the vaunted land
Is but a film that dims the seeker's eye,
A passing cloud that mocks the groping band;
Content to perish where gulf-girt they stand
They hug their barren rock with dreary cheer—
Confess to no confinement—vow they hear
No wanderer's wail—no plaintive breeze's sigh,
No moauings of the melancholy main:
Life after death—that any Spirit can
Exist apart from Matter—God or Man—
To them a dream, how visionary—vain!
What their minute sensorium may contain.
What they could touch, taste, smell or hear or see,
Is all that in the Universe can be!
page 327 Did ever brain conceive an idler notion!—
Might they not just as well—these hardy men—
Strive to compress the blue tremendous Ocean
In all its dim far-sparkling boundlessness
nto yon yellow calabash! And when
They failed—declare with confidence no less,
With self-complacent doggedness insist,
That all it would not hold did ne'er exist:
That no reflections on its outer side,
No dancing day-gleams from the waters wide,
Are any signs that Seas or Oceans roll
Beyond the circlet of that narrow bowl? "

"Well, that I cannot understand, you know
But tell me what you think yourself is true;
That I am certain must be right—and so
Will I believe, and only trust in you."

"In me, dear Child!—but that indeed
Were trusting to a broken reed!"

"That reed no whit the less shall be
A staff of trust and truth for me!"

"Well then, suppose your eyes you close,
And on my shoulder rest your head,
While lasts, my sweet! this noontide heat,
And that shrill music sunshine-bred;
And try to sleep while I devise
Some answer wondrous deep and wise
To my fond querist, little dreaming
What mysteries questions may comprise
To her so plain and simple-seeming."
page 328 "There—then; I will be still as death—"
And soon the soft-recurring breath
Long-drawn, and breast that gently heaves,
Tell how the life that gushed and glanced
So brightly, lies in sleep entranced—
Sleep, placid, light and infantine—
Serene as those green-imaged leaves
That up through crystal pointing shine.