Part 3 (1/2)
XII
Yet--no! She dared not go to him, To her he could not come.
Then, sudden a thought her being swept And struck her loud heart dumb.
Till in her rose confusion dim, Fear fighting with Desire-- Which to O-s.h.i.+chi took the shape of Fudo, G.o.d of fire.
XIII
And Fudo won her: for that night Did fond O-s.h.i.+chi dare To set aflame her father's house, Hoping again to share The temple with her acolyte, Her lover-priest, who, spent With speechless pa.s.sion for her face, in vain strove to repent.
XIV
But ah! what destiny can do Is not for folly's hand.
The flames O-s.h.i.+chi kindled were From sea to s.h.i.+ba fanned.
And it was learned a love-sick girl Had charred a thousand homes.
Then were the fury-smitten folk like to a sea that foams.
XV
And so they seized her: but not in The temple--O not there Had she been led again by priests In pity--led to share Her lover's eyes; no, but her sin Brought not one dear delight To poor O-s.h.i.+chi--who was now to look on her last rite.
XVI
For to the stake they bound her--fire They lit--to be her fate....
O-s.h.i.+chi, have I dreamt it all?
Your face, the temple gate, The fair boy-priest shut from desire In Buddhahood to-be?
Then let me dream and ever dream, O flower by Yedo's sea.
AS OF OLD
The fishermen bade their wives farewell, (The sun floated merry up the morning) They sang, to the rhythm of the low-swung swell, ”O come, lads, scorning The highlands high, There's no warning In the blue south sky, There's no warning, O come, lads, free, We'll cross the harbor bar and put to sea!”
The fisherwives prayed, the sails blew fast, (O home it is happy where there's hoping) They prayed--till the mist dimmed each dim mast: Then ”We're not moping,”
They sweetly sang, ”Winds come groping And clouds o'erhang, But we're not moping Tho left ash.o.r.e; They'll come to us at dusk when day is o'er.”
But swifter than G.o.d the sea-quake came, (The fishers they were swallowed in its swirling) O swifter than men could name G.o.d's name.
And white waves curling Hissed in to sh.o.r.e.
The sea-birds whirling Saw what, dashed h.o.a.r?
The sea-birds whirling Saw dead upborne The fishers that went forth upon the morn.