Act 4 — THE LIGHTHOUSEMAN

When at evening smothered lightnings Burn the clouds with opal fires; When the stars forget to glisten, And the winds refuse to listen To the song of my desires, Oh, my love, unto thee! When the livid breakers angered Churn against my stormy tower; When the petrel flying faster Brings an omen to the master Of his vessel's fated hour— Oh, the reefs! ah, the sea! Then I climb the climbing stairway, Turn the light across the storm; You are watching, fisher-maiden, For the token flashes laden With a love death could not harm— Lo, they come, swift and free! One—that means, "I think of thee!" Two—"I swear me thine!" Three—Ah, hear me tho' you sleep!— Is, "Love, I know thee mine!" Thro' the darkness, One, Two, Three, All the night they sweep: Thro' raging darkness o'er the deep, One—and Two—and Three.

Thou art late, O Moon, Late, I have waited thee long. The nightingale's flown to her nest, Sated with song. The champak hath no odour more To pour on the wind as he passeth o'er— But my heart it will not rest. Thou art late, O Love, Late, For the moon is a-wane. The kusa-grass sighs with my sighs, Burns with my pain. The lotus leans her head on the stream— Shall I not lean to thy breast and dream, Dream ere the night-cool dies? Thou art late, O Death, Late, For he did not come! A pariah is my heart, Cast from him—dumb! I cannot cry in the jungle's deep— Is it not time for Nirvana's sleep? O Death, strike with thy dart!