Even as leaves enrich the earth Layer on layer, Even as bodies of men enrich the soil Generation on generation, So do the spirits of those departed Enrich our soil of life With delights, wisdoms, purest hopes, And shapes of beauty. But oh beyond all these, is our life enriched With exalted contemplations Of you, O glorious Dead, Who have eaten of the tree of life and become gods, Friendly divinities to us who remain, Dear familiars, as you were with us Fathers, children, lovers, friends. Ye who sense with the inner eye, Since nothing in our days of living Moves uncolored of your splendors, Presences to which all things relate! * * * * * O realm of the Dead, Black Mountain, if you be, Which darkens heaven, And shadows earth, Round which our spirits flutter Like startled moths. Black mountain with whose blackness The light of life is mixed, Whereof all hues are made: All thoughts, all lofty wanderings of the soul, All meanings, divinations Of briefest hours, and frailest joys, All wonders of the spectrum of the soul Out of life and death! * * * * * Realm of the Dead! Supreme Reality All Hail! CREATION Passion flower unfolding in darkness! Glow-worm under a spray of lilac! Flame on the altar of love! Beloved in your chamber! The phoenix moon rising from the ashes of day Spreads her wings of saffron fire Above the enchanted garden. And I brush away the leaves of night To find the star of my love. I part the curtains about the altar, I enter your chamber, beloved. * * * * * I have entered your chamber, beloved, I have found my star. Between kisses and whispers And the silken touch of flesh Breast to breast, lips to lips, Our souls are seeking and drifting! As an albatross hovers and flies With the running sea... Powers of body, powers of spirit, Divinities Awakened never before, Hidden in nerves asleep, in veins without a tide Flow through us. I give you my life, beloved, For life of you, given to me-- O bride of love! * * * * * O hair of fire! O breasts of light, Like double stars! O voice like a lute that whispers At midnight, in a bower of roses! O body luminous as the nebulous waste Across the midnight, Pour on my breast, my hands, my brow The sacred fire, As our flesh becomes one Upborne by your breasts, White as bridal blossoms Where there is yet no milk, But only eddying blood Circling in whirlpools of delirious ecstasy In time with the blood of me. Our lips together, our bodies together While the yearning urn of porphyry Waits to drink the silver stream, And thirsts to drink, And poises like a gold fish waiting For the stream of silver fire.... * * * * *