40 Among the Redwoods The hollow dome is green with empty shade, Struck through with slanted shafts of afternoon; Aloft, a little rift of blue is made, Where slips a ghost that last night was the moon; Beside its pearl a sea-cloud stays its wing, Beneath a tilted hawk is balancing. The heart feels not in every time and mood What is around it. Dull as any stone I lay; then, like a darkening dream, the wood Grew Karnak's temple, where I breathed alone In the awed air strange incense, and up rose Dim, monstrous columns in their dread re pose. Among the Redwoods 41 The mind not always sees; but if there shine A bit of fern-lace bending over moss, A silky glint that rides a spider-line, On a trefoil two shadow-spears that cross, Three grasses that toss up their nodding heads, With spring and curve like clustered fountain-threads, Suddenly, through side windows of the eye, Deep solitudes, where never souls have met; Vast spaces, forest corridors that lie In a mysterious world, unpeopled yet. Because the outward eye elsewhere was caught, The awfulness and wonder come unsought. If death be but resolving back again Into the world's deep soul, this is a kind 42 Among the Redwoods Of quiet, happy death, untouched by pain Or sharp reluctance. mind For I feel my Is interfused with all I hear and see; Listen! A deep and solemn wind on high; The shafts of shining dust shift to and fro; The columned trees sway imperceptibly, And creak as mighty masts when trade winds blow. The cloudy sails are set; the earth-ship swings Along the sea of space to grander things. OPPORTUNITY. HIS I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream: There spread a cloud of dust along a plain; And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes. A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel That blue blade that the king's son bears, but this Blunt thing!" he snapt and flung it from his hand, And lowering crept away and left the field. Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead, And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand, And ran and snatched it, and with battleshout Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down, And saved a great cause that heroic day. |