Conrad Aiken - The Charnel Rose: A Symphony: Part II lyrics

1 And at times it seemed, Walking with her of whom he subtly dreamed, That her young body was ringed with flame, Hover of fire, And that she went and came, Impalpable fiery blossom of desire, Into his heart and out of his heart again, With every breath; and every breath was pain. And if he touched her hand, she drew away, Becoming someone vast; and stretched her hair Suddenly, like black rain, across the sun. Till he grew fearful, seeing her there, To think that he loved such a one, Who rose against the sky to shut out day. But at times it seemed, Walking with her of whom he subtly dreamed, (Music beneath the sea) That she was texture of earth no less than he; Among the leaves her face Gleamed with familiar grace; And walking slowly through old gardens, Among the cool blue cedars, Spreading her hands in the silent dazzle of sunlight, Her voice and the air were sweetly married; Her laughter trembled like music out of the earth; her body was like the cool blue cedars, Fragrant in sunlight. And he quivered, to think that he was the blade, in sunlight, To flash, and strip these boughs, and spill their fragrance. Wind hurried the last year's leaves, their shadows hurried, And clouds blew down the sky. Where would they be with a year gone by? Let us be quick: there is time to overcome: The earth grows old, the moon is already dead, But you are young, you tremble because you love me, It is all we have. Let nothing more be said. What do we care for a star that floats down heaven, That fiery tear of time? It spoke to us once, it will not speak again, It will be no more remembered than last year's rain; There will be other dusks for us to walk through, And other stars will float down heaven. Time is undone: between our hands it slips, Goes out between us, the breath upon our lips. Do not look over your shoulder to see it falling! Shadows gather and brood, under the trees. The world grows silent, it listens to hear us walking; Let the star perish: we wander as we please. Or is the earth beneath us an old star falling, Falling through twilight to leafy seas? The night grows damp: I will take your arm. Follow the lanterns, lest we come to harm. 2 Green-fingered dryad, break from your oak-tree! Flash from your pool, blue nymph! Leaves have whispered your secret, the sands have betrayed you, Water-lilies have told of your hearts. Cold and gold and green-gleamed white, Deep-petalled, and pollened, as they: These are your hearts. Come out, green-fingered! Rise from your pool, blue nymph. She that I knew by the sphinx Imperceptibly shrinks in your eyes: The lotus uncloses and glistens, I drink your mouth in the dark. Now you no longer escape me--I have you! This is you, this light in my fingers; This air in my palm! These grains of sand are worlds of sunlight; These grains of dust are worlds of moonlight; I give them to you that you may love them, Tawny naturtium. Rain slowly falls in the sleepy garden; It patters and purrs and seethes. How the young gra** rejoices in cool bubbles! It drinks cold silver. The slow drops that fall from the eaves Dig little pits among pebbles: Or patter and glance from laurel leaves In tiny shatters of fire. It rains, and the streets are dark; The leaves make a mournful sound in the hidden garden. It rains and the streets are cold . . . But you, who walked alone beside that sea, Or flashed your hands into sunlight out of foam,-- You that I never thought to capture,-- Hearing the rain, you cling to me all night long; Hearing the rain sing a mournful song, You hold my head on your breast and cling to me. Green hills with sunlight flecked, and azure shadows; Dun hills and blue, run down beneath my feet: The sea mourns, and the sheep are scattered. Tired of the shrill flute, I cry through the evening, The stars are rising and I desire you, We will desert our gods and meet. Do we brush the dust from the petal with too much kissing? Is the clear dew gone from the gra**? I am consumed with grief For the dark wet bruise on the leaf. But the seconds drip like raindrops, I fear at the end of night our hearts must pa**, Let us drink this night while we have it, let us drink it all. If I should destroy you! But could I destroy by loving? O my beloved, I dread some d**h in this, Something there is that perishes with the kiss, I hear in your heart the grief of autumnal rains; The pouring of merciless sea-waves along your veins. Is it you, I hold? Is it you? Or the earth, or the sea? Answer me with your mouth and cling to me. Rain slowly falls in the bitter garden; It rains: the streets grow dark. The leaves make a sorrowful sound in the hidden garden; It rains, and the streets grow cold. These are my hands, that tremble upon your face,-- Trembling lest love depart from our shadowy place; Lest suddenly in my arms you become a sea Laughing, with numberless waves, to murder me. 3 White fires were lit on the mountain-tops of towers, Monstrous and black the towers carved the sky. The ghostly fountain shot and tumbled in wavering showers, Gaunt leaves leaned down above it thirstily. The gold fish, and the fish with fins of copper, Quivered in lamplight, rose with motionless eye, And darted into the darkness, silently. To shape this chaos of leaderless ghostly pa**ions-- Or else be mobbed by it--there was the question. Dry leaves above him whispered the slow question, Black ripples on the pool chuckled of pa**ion. And through the shadows drifted his own white face, With ashes in his eyes, where before was fire; And he sorrowed for himself in that strange place, And for a once more unfulfilled desire. Were the hands of lust red with the murder of love? And must desire forever defeat its end? He was tired: he longed for d**h. He turned, but met himself again in darkness, Pacing noiselessly, like a ghost, through darkness; And upon his face came softly his own breath. Cold wind dissolved him: white foam seethed above him: Green darkness drank him down. Here was a cold full music like an ocean Wherein to sink from d**h to d**h and drown. Fishes gaped at him, with eyes like lanterns. The sea-floor spread to take him, smooth and brown. Under this ocean, were there no desires?-- The sands bubbled, and roses shot soft fires. And skeletons whizzed before him, and whistled behind him, And heavily danced wherever the shadows hid them, And stormed dead roses about his feet; Flash, bright scythe of d**h! They danced forever. He heard their drunken footsteps beat and beat. And the music he had heard so long ago, Now failing fainter, seemed ever to grow Deeper and more desirable. He heard The bells of surf on rocks; and shattering water stirred Memory of a woman once seen there, Lifting in moonlight a golden weight of hair: A woman who fled before him, looking backward To laugh in the moonlight, always, before she vanished: . . . A woman of fire, a woman of earth, Dreamed of in every birth. O laughter, heard so little, lost so soon! Come back!--Thus moans the sea to the failing moon. And the moon rose; the moon set; The stars rushed up, and whirled, and set; And again they thronged, after a shaft of sunlight; And the blue dusk closed above him, like an ocean of regret.