Part 3 (1/2)

Hope that you may understand!

What can books of men that wive In a dragon-guarded land, Paintings of the dolphin-drawn Sea-nymphs in their pearly waggons Do, but awake a hope to live That had gone With the dragons?

I

THE WITCH

Toil, and grow rich, What's that but to lie With a foul witch And after, drained dry, To be brought To the chamber where Lies one long sought With despair.

II

THE PEAc.o.c.k

What's riches to him That has made a great peac.o.c.k With the pride of his eye?

The wind-beaten, stone-grey, And desolate Three-rock Would nourish his whim.

Live he or die Amid wet rocks and heather, His ghost will be gay Adding feather to feather For the pride of his eye.

THE MOUNTAIN TOMB

Pour wine and dance if Manhood still have pride, Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain side, Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.

Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet That there be no foot silent in the room Nor mouth from kissing, nor from wine unwet; Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.

In vain, in vain; the cataract still cries The everlasting taper lights the gloom; All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb.

TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND

I

Dance there upon the sh.o.r.e; What need have you to care For wind or water's roar?

And tumble out your hair That the salt drops have wet; Being young you have not known The fool's triumph, nor yet Love lost as soon as won, Nor the best labourer dead And all the sheaves to bind.

What need have you to dread The monstrous crying of wind?