And lo, these ghosts of old desire, These lagging throbs of impulse crost, Are paupers in a palace lost, Sick tapers in the auroral fire. When shall the moon my vision bathe, That seeks to plume the eternal streams Of darkness, and about my dreams Her slow cerulean raiment swathe? AMEN At length the consecrating hour is here That sains the slave's extenuated sleep. And I who wait shall see its hands appear, Full of white roses in these caverns deep. I wait--at length to feel its cooling wind Strike on my heart, impregnable to lies, A paschal lamb lost amid marshes blind, A wound o'er which the surging waters rise. I wait--for nights no morrow shall defy, I wait--for weakness nothing shall avail; To feel upon my hands its shadow lie, To see in peaceful tides its image pale. I wait until those nights of thine shall show All my desires with cleansed eyes go by, For then my dreams shall bathe in evening's glow, And then within their crystal castle die. THE DIVING BELL Lo, the diver, forever within his bell! And a whole sea of glass, a sea eternally warm! A whole motionless world, a world of slow green rhythms! So many curious creatures beyond those walls of glass, And any contact eternally prohibited! And yet there is so much life in those bright waters yonder! Look! The shadows of great sailing-ships-- they glide over the flowers, the dahlias of the submarine forest! And I stand for a moment in the shadow of whales that are voyaging to the Pole! And at this very moment, I doubt not, my fellow-men in the harbour Are discharging the vessels that sail hither laden with ice: A glacier was there, in the midst of the July meadows! And men are swimming and floating in the green waters of the creek, And at noon they enter shadowy caverns... And the breezes of ocean are fanning the roofs and balconies. Lo, the flaming tongues of the Gulf-Stream! Take heed lest their kisses touch the walls of lassitude! They have ceased to lay ice on the brows of the fevered, And the patients have lit a bonfire And are casting great handfuls of green lilies into the flames! Lean your brows upon the cooler panes, While waiting for the moonlight to enter the bell from above, And close your eyes tightly, to the forest of colour, The pendulous blues and albuminous violets, And close your ears to the suggestions of the tepid water.