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A laughter in the diamond air, a music in the trembling grass, And one by one the words of light as joy-drops through my being pass.

"I am the sunlight in the heart, the silver moon-glow in the mind;

My laughter runs and ripples through the wavy tresses of the wind.

I am the fire upon the hills, the dancing flame that leads afar Each burning hearted wanderer, and I the dear and homeward


A myriad lovers died for me, and in their latest yielded breath I woke in glory giving them immortal life though touched by death.

They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rainbow wings,

If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo sings,

It matters not, the name, the land: my joy in all the gods abides:

Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and hides.

For joy of me the day-star glows, and in delight and wild desire

The peacock twilight rays aloft its plumes and blooms of shadowy fire,

Where in the vastness too I burn through summer nights and ages long,

And with the fiery-footed planets wave in myriad dance and song."


Tarry thou yet, late lingerer in the twilight's glory:
Gay are the hills with song: earth's faery children leave
More dim abodes to roam the primrose-hearted eve,
Opening their glimmering lips to breathe some wondrous story.
Hush, not a whisper! Let your heart alone go dreaming.
Dream unto dream may pass: deep in the heart alone
Murmurs the Mighty One his solemn undertone.
Canst thou not see adown the silver cloudland streaming
Rivers of rainbow light, dewdrop on dewdrop falling,
Starfire of silver flames, lighting the dark beneath?
And what enraptured hosts burn on the dusky heath!

Come thou away with them, for Heaven to Earth is calling.
These are Earth's voice-her answer-spirits thronging.
Come to the Land of Youth: the trees grown heavy there
Drop on the purple wave the ruby fruit they bear.
Drink the immortal waters quench the spirit's longing.
Art thou not now, bright one, all sorrow past, in elation,
Filled with wild joy, grown brother-hearted with the vast,
Whither thy spirit wending flits the dim stars past
Unto the Light of Lights in burning adoration?


"The soul is its own witness and its own refuge."

Unto the deep the deep heart goes,

It lays its sadness nigh the breast:
Only the Mighty Mother knows

The wounds that quiver unconfessed.

It seeks a deeper silence still;

It folds itself around with peace,
When thoughts alike of good or ill

In quietness unfostered cease.

It feels in the unwounding vast

For comfort for its hopes and fears:
The Mighty Mother bows at last;

She listens to her children's tears.

Where the last anguish deepens there
The fire of beauty smites through pain:
A glory moves amid despair,

The Mother takes her child again.


It's a lonely road through bogland to the lake at Carrowmore, And a sleeper there lies dreaming where the water laps the


Though the moth-wings of the twilight in their purples are unfurled

Yet his sleep is filled with gold light by the masters of the world.

There's a hand is white as silver that is fondling with his hair: There are glimmering feet of sunshine that are dancing by him there:

And half-open lips of faery that were dyed to richest red
In their revels where the Hazel Tree its holy clusters shed.

"Come away," the red lips whisper, "all the world is weary now;

"T is the twilight of the ages, and it 's time to quit the plow. Oh, the very sunlight's weary ere it lightens up the dew, And its gold is changed to graylight before it falls to you.

"Though your colleen's heart be tender, a tenderer heart is


What's the starlight in her glance when the stars are shining clear?

Who would kiss the fading shadow when the flower face glows above?

"T is the Beauty of all Beauty that is calling for your love." .

Oh, the mountain gates of dreamland have opened once again, And the sound of song and dancing falls upon the ears of men; And the Land of Youth lies gleaming flushed with opal light

and mirth,

And the old enchantment lingers in the honey heart of earth.


Those delicate wanderers

The wind, the star, the cloud

Ever before mine eyes,

As to an Altar bowed,
Light and dew-laden airs
Offer in sacrifice.

The offerings arise:

Hazes of rainbow light,

Pure crystal, blue, and gold,

Through dreamland take their flight;

And 'mid the sacrifice

God moveth as of old.

In miracles of fire

He symbols forth His days;
In gleams of crystal light
Reveals what pure pathways
Lead to the soul's desire,
The silence of the height.


I am the tender voice calling "Away," Whispering between the beatings of the heart, And inaccessible in dewy eyes

I dwell, and all unkissed on lovely lips,
Lingering between white breasts inviolate,
And fleeting ever from the passionate touch
I shine afar, till men may not divine
Whether it is the stars or the beloved
They follow with rapt spirit. And I weave
My spells at evening, folding with dim caress,
Aerial arms, and twilight-dropping hair,
The lonely wanderer by shore or wood,
Till filled with some vast tenderness he yields,
Feeling in dreams for the dear mother heart
He knew ere he forsook the starry way,
And clings there pillowed far above the smoke
And the dim murmur from the dûns of men;
I can enchant the trees and rocks, and fill
The dumb brown lips of earth with mystery,
Make them reveal or hide the god. I breathe
A deeper pity than all love, myself
Mother of all, but without hands to heal,
Too vast and vague-they know me not!
I am the heartbreak over fallen things,
The sudden gentleness that stays the blow;
And I am in the kiss that warriors give
Pausing in battle, and in the tears that fall
Over the vanquished foe; and in the highest
Among the Danann gods I am the last
Council of mercy in their hearts, where they
Mete justice from a thousand starry thrones.

But yet


Now when the giant in us wakes and broods,

Filled with home-yearnings, drowsily he flings From his deep heart high dreams and mystic moods,

Mixed with the memory of the loved earth-things; Clothing the vast with a familiar face, Reaching his right hand forth to greet the starry race.

Wondrously near and clear the great warm fires

Stare from the blue; so shows the cottage light To the field laborer whose heart desires

The old folk by the nook, the welcome bright From the housewife long parted from at dawn— So the star villages in God's great depth withdrawn

Nearer to Thee, not by delusion led,

Though there no house-fires burn nor bright eyes gaze; We rise, but by the symbol charioted,

Through loved things rising up to Love's own ways; By these the soul unto the vast has wings, And sets the seal celestial on all mortal things.


Image of beauty, when I gaze on thee,
Trembling I waken to a mystery;
How through one door we go to life or death,
By spirit kindled or the sensual breath.
Image of beauty, when my way I go,

No single joy or sorrow do I know;
Elate for freedom leaps the starry power,
The life which passes mourns its wasted hour.

And, ah! to think how thin the veil that lies
Between the pain of hell and paradise!
Where the cool grass my aching head embowers,
God sings the lovely carol of the flowers.

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