AE in the Irish TheosophistRussell, George William
Religion
AE in the Irish Theosophist
Russell, George William
Theosophy
"As within our quiet waters passing
Sun and moon and stars we view,
So the loveliness of life is glassing,
Child, in you.
"In the diamond air the sun-star glowing
Up its feathered radiance threw;
All the jewel glory there was flowing,
Child, for you.
"And the fire divine in all things burning
Yearns for home and rest anew,
From its wanderings far again returning,
Child, to you."
"Oh, voices, voices," cried the child, "what you say I know not,
but I ray back love for love. Father, what is it they tell me?
They embosom me in light and I am far away even though I hold
your hand."
"The gods are about us. Heaven mingles with the earth," said
Tithonius trembling. "Let us go to Diotima. She has grown wise
brooding for many a year where the great caves lead to the underworld.
She sees the bright ones as they pass by where she sits with shut
eyes, her drowsy lips murmuring as nature's self."
That night the island seemed no more earth set in sea, but a music
encircled by the silence. The trees long rooted in antique slumber
were throbbing with rich life; through glimmering bark and drooping
leaf a light fell on the old man and boy as they passed, and vague
figures nodded at them. These were the hamadryad souls of the wood.
They were bathed in tender colours and shimmering lights draping
them from root to leaf. A murmur came from the heart of every one,
a low enchantment breathing joy and peace. It grew and swelled
until at last it seemed as if through a myriad pipes that Pan the
earth spirit was fluting his magical creative song.
They found the cave of Diotima covered by vines and tangled strailers
at the end of the island where the dark-green woodland rose up from
the waters. Tithonius paused, for he dreaded this mystic prophetess;
but a voice from within called them: "Come in, child of light;
come in, old shepherd, I know why you seek me!" They entered,
Tithonius trembling with more fear than before. A fire was blazing
in a recess of the cavern and by it sat a majestic figure robed
in purple. She was bent forward, her hand supporting her face,
her burning eyes turned on the intruders.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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