Muse, in my boyhood’s careless days My rev’rence for thee was not small, Altho’ I roam’d by Star and Sea And left thee, seeking other ways— I left thee, for I knew that all Return by Sea and Star to thee. Not worthy he to hear thy song, Him thou thyself despisest most, Who dares not leave thee and arise To face the World’s discordant throng; Since thou’rt best gain’d by being lost, And Earth is in thy Heav’nly eyes. 1886-7. * * * * * THE STAR AND THE SUN In Darkness, and pacing the Thunder-Beat Shore By many Waves, No sound being near to me there but the hoarse Cicala’s cry, While that unseen Sword, the Zodiacal Light, Falchion of Dawn, Made clear all the Orient, wanning the Silvery Stars, I heard the fine flute of the Fast-Fading Fire, The Morning Star, Pipe thus to the Glimmering Glories of Night, And sing, O World, If I too must leave thee then who can remain? But lo! from the Deep The Thundering Sun upsprang and responded, I. Andamans, 1886-7. * * * * * THE WORLD’S INHERITORS God gazing down from Heaven saw the World. Mighty, himself a heav’n, he fill’d the heavens. His beard fell like a wasted thunder at eve, And all his robe was woven with white stars, And on his breast a star. The World was dark. Deep in a forest there, Where not the rill that routed in the wood Dared break the silence, nor one murmur of night Wound to the stagnant, chill, and listening air, Five children slumbering lay. One ruddy as the red grapes of the south; One duskier, breather of more burning air; One blue-eyed, blond, and golden-crown’d with locks; One finely fashion’d in an even mould; And one hard wrought as steel. Lord of the Woods their Sire; enormous, rough, Hair-tangled like the north-bear: but his Mate Queen of a myriad palaces that shone With chalcedon and jasper, justly wrought, And gems of jewel’d stone. Who when he saw her won her; loved her well; By her abhor’d: and so he slew her then, And gazed upon her beauty dead, and died Himself, lamenting his wild woods. And these Their wondrous offspring were. Europe, A.D. 500. The World beheld them and adored—adored, And fear’d, and sought to slay them; for The battle-brood of gods is battle-born. But they endured; nor in the thunder found Harm, or the bolt of death. And God look’d down and spake, and thro’ the Earth The murmur ran, terranean like the shock When central earthquakes jar, until the Deep Foams tingling to the icèd poles; and said, To these I give the World. Andamans, 1886-7.