“THE CURTAINS NOW ARE DRAWN” (SONG)
Reading edition
I
The curtains now are drawn, And the spindrift strikes the glass, Blown up the jagged pass By the surly salt sou’-west, And the sneering glare is gone Behind the yonder crest, While she sings to me: “O the dream that thou art my Love, be it thine, And the dream that I am thy Love, be it mine, And death may come, but loving is divine.”
II
I stand here in the rain, With its smite upon her stone, And the grasses that have grown Over women, children, men, And their texts that “Life is vain”; But I hear the notes as when Once she sang to me: “O the dream that thou art my Love, be it thine, And the dream that I am thy Love, be it mine, And death may come, but loving is divine.”
1913.
“ACCORDING TO THE MIGHTY WORKING”
I
When moiling seems at cease In the vague void of night-time, And heaven’s wide roomage stormless Between the dusk and light-time, And fear at last is formless, We call the allurement Peace.
II
Peace, this hid riot, Change, This revel of quick-cued mumming, This never truly being, This evermore becoming, This spinner’s wheel onfleeing Outside perception’s range.
1917.