Look! We Have Come Through!

Excerpt

After much struggling and loss in love and in the world of man, the protagonist throws in his lot with a woman who is already married. Together they go into another country, she perforce leaving her children behind. The conflict of love and hate goes on between the man and the woman, and between these two and the world around them, till it reaches some sort of conclusion, they transcend into some condition of blessedness

AND who has seen the moon, who has not seenHer rise from out the chamber of the deep,Flushed and grand and naked, as from the chamberOf finished bridegroom, seen her rise and throwConfession of delight upon the wave,Littering the waves with her own superscriptionOf bliss, till all her lambent beauty shakes towards    usSpread out and known at last, and we are sureThat beauty is a thing beyond the grave,That perfect, bright experience never fallsTo nothingness, and time will dim the moonSooner than our full consummation hereIn this odd life will tarnish or pass away.

THE sun immense and rosyMust have sunk and become extinctThe night you closed your eyes for ever against me.

Grey days, and wan, dree dawningsSince then, with fritter of flowers—Day wearies me with its ostentation and fawnings.

Still, you left me the nights,The great dark glittery window,The bubble hemming this empty existence with   lights.

Still in the vast hollowLike a breath in a bubble spinningBrushing the stars, goes my soul, that skims the   bounds like a swallow!

I can look throughThe film of the bubble night, to where you are.Through the film I can almost touch you.

THE stars that open and shutFall on my shallow breastLike stars on a pool.

The soft wind, blowing coolLaps little crest after crestOf ripples across my breast.

And dark grass under my feetSeems to dabble in meLike grass in a brook.

Oh, and it is sweetTo be all these things, not to beAny more myself.

For look,I am weary of myself!

AH God, life, law, so many names you keep,You great, you patient Effort, and you SleepThat does inform this various dream of living,You sleep stretched out for ever, ever givingUs out as dreams, you august SleepCoursed round by rhythmic movement of all   time,

The constellations, your great heart, the sunFierily pulsing, unable to refrain;Since you, vast, outstretched, wordless SleepPermit of no beyond, ah you, whose dreamsWe are, and body of sleep, let it never be saidI quailed at my appointed function, turned poltroon

For when at night, from out the full surchargeOf a day's experience, sleep does slowly drawThe harvest, the spent action to itself;Leaves me unburdened to begin again;At night, I say, when I am gone in sleep,Does my slow heart rebel, do my dead handsComplain of what the day has had them do?

Never let it be said I was poltroonAt this my task of living, this my dream,This me which rises from the dark of sleepIn white flesh robed to drape another dream,As lightning comes all white and tremblingFrom out the cloud of sleep, looks round aboutOne moment, sees, and swift its dream is over,In one rich drip it sinks to another sleep,And sleep thereby is one more dream enrichened....