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Short Poems Published in 1909 and 1910
Goddess, supreme Mother of Dream, by thy ivory doors when thou standest, Who are they then that come down unto men in thy visions that troop, group upon group, down the path of the shadows slanting? Dream after dream, they flash and they gleam with the flame of the stars still around them; Shadows at thy side in a darkness ride where the wild fires dance, stars glow and glance and the random meteor glistens; There are voices that cry to their kin who reply; voices sweet, at the heart they beat and ravish the soul as it listens. What then are these lands and these golden sands and these seas more radiant than earth can imagine? Who are those that pace by the purple waves that race to the cliff-bound floor of thy jasper shore under skies in which mystery muses, Lapped in moonlight not of our night or plunged in sunshine that is not diurnal? Who are they coming thy Oceans roaming with sails whose strands are not made by hands, an unearthly wind advances? Why do they join in a mystic line with those on the sands linking hands in strange and stately dances? Thou in the air, with a flame in thy hair, the whirl of thy wonders watching, Holdest the night in thy ancient right, mother divine, hyacinthine, with a girdle of beauty defended. Sworded with fire, attracting desire, thy tenebrous kingdom thou keepest, Starry-sweet, with the moon at thy feet, now hidden now seen the clouds between in the gloom and the drift of thy tresses. Only to those whom thy fancy chose, O thou heart-free, is it given to see thy witchcraft and feel thy caresses. Open the gate where thy children wait in their world of a beauty undarkened. High-throned on a cloud, victorious, proud I have espied Maghavan ride when the armies of wind are behind him; Food has been given for my tasting from heaven and fruit of immortal sweetness;
Page – 273 I have drunk wine of the kingdoms divine and have heard the change of music strange from a lyre which our hands cannot master; Doors have swung wide in the chambers of pride where the Gods reside and the Apsaras dance in their circles faster and faster. For thou art she whom we first can see when we pass the bounds of the mortal, There at the gates of the heavenly states thou hast planted thy wand enchanted over the head of the Yogin waving. From thee are the dream and the shadows that seem and the fugitive lights that delude us; Thine is the shade in which visions are made; sped by thy hands from celestial lands come the souls that rejoice for ever. Into thy dream-worlds we pass or look in thy magic glass, then beyond thee we climb out of Space and Time to the peak of divine endeavour.
Rushing from Troy like a cloud on the plains the Trojans thundered, Just as a storm comes thundering, thick with the dust of kingdoms, Edged with the devious dance of the lightning, so all Troas Loud with the roar of the chariots, loud with the vaunt and the war-cry, Rushed from Troywards gleaming with spears and rolled on enormous. Joyous as ever Paris led them glancing in armour, Brilliant with gold like a bridegroom, playing with death and the battle Even as apart in his chamber he played with his beautiful Helen, Touching her body rejoiced with a low and lyrical laughter, So he laughed as he smote his foemen. Round him the arrows, Round him the spears of the Argives sang like the voices of maidens Trilling the anthem of bridal bliss, the chant hymeneal; Round him the warriors fell like flowers strewn at a bridal Red with the beauty of blood.
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Lucifer Sirioth
LUCIFER What mighty and ineffable desire Impels thee, Sirioth? Thy accustomed calm Is potently subverted and the eyes That were a god’s in sweet tranquillity, Confess a human warmth, a troubled glow.
SIRIOTH Lucifer, son of Morning, Angel! thou Art mightiest of the architects of fate. To thee is given with thy magic gaze Compelling mortals as thou leanst sublime From heaven’s lucent walls, to sway the world. Is thy felicity of lesser date, Prince of the patient and untiring gods, The gods who work? Dost thou not ever feel Angelic weariness usurp the place Where the great flame and the august desire Were wont to urge thee on? To me it seems That our eternity is far too long For service and there is a word, a thought, More godlike.
LUCIFER Sirioth, I will speak the word. Is it not Power?
SIRIOTH No, Lucifer, ’tis Love.
Page – 276 LUCIFER Love? It was love that for a trillion years Gave me the instinct and immense demand For service, for activity. It fades. Another and more giant passion comes Striding upon me. I behold the world Immeasurably vast, I see the heavens Full of an azure joy and majesty, I see the teeming millions of the stars. Sirioth, how came the Master of the world To be the master? Did He seize control Pushing some ancient weaker sovereign down From sway immemorable? Did He come By peaceful ways, permission or inheritance, To what He is today? Or if indeed He is for ever and for ever rules, Are there no bounds to His immense domain, No obscure corner of unbounded space Forgotten by His fate, that I may seize And make myself an empire as august, Enjoy a like eternity of rule?
SIRIOTH Angel, these thoughts are mighty as thyself. But wilt thou then rebel? If He be great To conquer and to punish, what of thee? Eternity of dreadful poignant pain May be thy fate and not eternal rule.
LUCIFER Better than still to serve desirelessly, Pursued by a compulsion dull and fierce, Looking through all vast time for one brief hour Of rest, of respite, but instead to find Iron necessity and pant in vain For space, for room, for freedom.
Page – 276 SIRIOTH Thou intendest?
LUCIFER Sirioth, I do not yet intend; I feel.
SIRIOTH For me the sense of active force within Set me to work, as the stars move, the sun Resistless flames through space, the stormwind runs. But I have felt a touch as sweet as spring, And I have heard a music of delight Maddening the heart with the sweet honied stabs Of delicate intolerable joy. Where, where is One to feel the answering bliss? Lucifer, thou from love beganst thy toil. What love?
LUCIFER Desire august to help, to serve.
SIRIOTH That is not mine. To embrace, to melt and mix Two beings into one, to roll the spirit Tumbling into a surge of common joy, — ‘Tis this I seek.
LUCIFER Will He permit?
Page – 277 SIRIOTH A bar I feel, a prohibition. Someone used A word I could not grasp and called it sin.
LUCIFER The word is new, even as these things are.
SIRIOTH I know not who he was. He laughed and said, “Sin, sin is born into the world, revolt And change, in Sirioth and in Lucifer, The evening and the morning star. Rejoice, O world!” And I beheld as in a dream Leaping from out thy brain and into mine A woman beautiful, of grandiose mien, Yet terrible, alarming and instinct With nameless menace. And the world was full With clashing and with cries. It seemed to me Angels and Gods and men strove violently To touch her robe, to occupy the place Her beautiful and ominous feet had trod, Crying, “Daughter of Lucifer, be ours, O sweet, adorable and mighty Sin!” Therefore I came to thee.
LUCIFER Sirioth, await Her birth, if she must be. For this I know, Necessity rules all the infinite world, And even He perhaps submits unknown To a compulsion. When the time is ripe, We will consult once more what we shall do.
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Immortal, moveless, calm, alone, august, A silence throned, to just and to unjust One Lord of still unutterable love, I saw Him, Shiva, like a brooding dove Close-winged upon her nest. The outcasts came, The sinners gathered to that quiet flame, The demons by the other sterner gods Rejected from their luminous abodes Gathered around the Refuge of the lost Soft-smiling on that wild and grisly host. All who were refugeless, wretched, unloved, The wicked and the good together moved Naturally to Him, the shelterer sweet, And found their heaven at their Master’s feet. The vision changed and in its place there stood A Terror red as lightning or as blood. His strong right hand a javelin advanced And as He shook it, earthquake stumbling danced Across the hemisphere, ruin and plague Rained out of heaven, disasters swift and vague Neighboured, a marching multitude of ills. His foot strode forward to oppress the hills, And at the vision of His burning eyes The hearts of men grew faint with dread surmise Of sin and punishment. Their cry was loud, “O master of the stormwind and the cloud, Spare, Rudra, spare! Show us that other form Auspicious, not incarnate wrath and storm.” The God of Force, the God of Love are one; Not least He loves whom most He smites. Alone Who towers above fear and plays with grief, Defeat and death, inherits full relief From blindness and beholds the single Form, Love masking Terror, Peace supporting Storm.
Page – 279 The Friend of Man helps him with life and death Until he knows. Then, freed from mortal breath, Grief, pain, resentment, terror pass away. He feels the joy of the immortal play; He has the silence and the unflinching force, He knows the oneness and the eternal course. He too is Rudra and thunder and the Fire, He Shiva and the white Light no shadows tire, The Strength that rides abroad on Time’s wide wings, The Calm in the heart of all immortal things.
On Her Birthday
The repetition of thy gracious years Brings back once more thy natal morn. Upon the crest of youth thy life appears, — A wave upborne.
Amid the hundreds thronging Ocean’s floor A wave upon the crowded sea With regular rhythm pushing towards the shore Our life must be.
The power that moves it is the Ocean’s force Invincible, eternal, free, And by that impulse it pursues its course Inevitably.
We, too, by the Eternal Might are led To whatsoever goal He wills. Our helm He grasps, our generous sail outspread His strong breath fills.
Page – 280 Exulting in the grace and strength of youth Pursue the Ocean’s distant bound, Trusting the Pilot’s voice, the Master’s ruth That rings us round.
Rejoice and fear not for the waves that swell, The storms that thunder, winds that sweep; Always our Captain holds the rudder well, He does not sleep.
If in the trough of the enormous sea Thou canst not find the sky for spray, Fear never, for our Sun is there with thee By night and day.
Even those who sink in the victorious flood, Where do they sink? Into His breast. He who to some gives victory, joy and good, To some gives rest.
But thou, look to the radiant days that wait Beyond the driving rain and storm. I have seen the vision of a happier fate Brightening thy form.
Confident of His grace, expect His will; Let Him lead; though hidden be the bourne, See Him in all that happens; that fulfil For which thou wert born.
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(My grandfather, Rajnarain Bose, died September 1899)
Not in annihilation lost, nor given To darkness art thou fled from us and light, O strong and sentient spirit; no mere heaven Of ancient joys, no silence eremite Received thee; but the omnipresent Thought Of which thou wast a part and earthly hour, Took back its gift. Into that splendour caught Thou hast not lost thy special brightness. Power Remains with thee and the old genial force Unseen for blinding light, not darkly lurks: As when a sacred river in its course Dives into ocean, there its strength abides Not less because with vastness wed and works Unnoticed in the grandeur of the tides.
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