Solitude is like a rain That from the sea at dusk begins to rise; It floats remote across the far-off plain Upward into its dwelling-place, the skies, Then o'er the town it slowly sinks again. Like rain it softly falls at that dim hour When ghostly lanes turn toward the shadowy morn; When bodies weighed with satiate passion's power Sad, disappointed from each other turn; When men with quiet hatred burning deep Together in a common bed must sleep-- Through the gray, phantom shadows of the dawn Lo! Solitude floats down the river wan ... KINGS IN LEGENDS Kings in old legends seem Like mountains rising in the evening light. They blind all with their gleam, Their loins encircled are by girdles bright, Their robes are edged with bands Of precious stones--the rarest earth affords-- With richly jeweled hands They hold their slender, shining, naked swords. THE KNIGHT The Knight rides forth in coat of mail Into the roar of the world. And here is Life: the vines in the vale And friend and foe, and the feast in the hall, And May and the maid, and the glen and the grail; God's flags afloat on every wall In a thousand streets unfurled. Beneath the armour of the Knight Behind the chain's black links Death crouches and thinks and thinks: "When will the sword's blade sharp and bright Forth from the scabbard spring And cut the network of the cloak Enmeshing me ring on ring-- When will the foe's delivering stroke Set me free To dance And sing?" THE BOY I wish I might become like one of these Who, in the night on horses wild astride, With torches flaming out like loosened hair On to the chase through the great swift wind ride. I wish to stand as on a boat and dare The sweeping storm, mighty, like flag unrolled In darkness but with helmet made of gold That shimmers restlessly. And in a row, Behind me in the dark, ten men that glow With helmets that are restless, too, like mine, Now old and dull, now clear as glass they shine. One stands by me and blows a blast apace On his great flashing trumpet and the sound Shrieks through the vast black solitude around Through which, as through a wild mad dream we race. The houses fall behind us on their knees, Before us bend the streets and them we gain, The great squares yieled to us and them we seize-- And on our steeds rush like the roar of rain. INITIATION