BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL
(A Mystery Rime for Little Children of All Ages)
The rain comes down and veils the hills.
Ah, tender rain for aching fields!
The hills are clothed in a mist of rain.
(My heart is clothed in a mist of pain.)
Ah, mother rain, that laves the field,
If I to you my poor soul yield,
Will you not cleanse it, soothe it, tend it,
Weep upon it ’til ’tis mended?
’Twas sweet to sow, ’tis hard to reap.
Come, mother rain, and lull me to sleep.
Lull me to sleep and wash me away,
Out of the realm of Night and Day,
Back to the bourne from whence I came,
Seeming alike yet not the same....
Rain, you are more than rain to me.
And Lash of Pain may be a Key.
Ope, then, the door and tread within.
The double Door of Good and Sin
Is vanquished. Lo, with bread and wine,
The table’s spread! The feast is Mine!
LOVE IN THE ABYSS
Amidst the buzz of bawdy tales
And the laughter of drinking men,
I sat and laughed and shouted also.
Yet was I not content.
My seared and restless eyes, turning here and there,—
Like my tired soul,—
Seeking new joys and finding them not,—
How oft swept you unseeing.
Until, suddenly,—
And now I know not how I could have missed it,—
My eyes saw into yours,
And plumbed the deep wells of newly born desire.
Ah, dear my heart, what things your eyes did speak!
Not God’s own music of creation’s dawn,
Revealed to mystic in a holy trance,
Could pleasure me more sweetly.
So dear were your lips—
Your lips so kind and regal red.
My memory of your lips I cherish
As a great possession ...
Ah, flying joy,
Caught on the wings of Time ...
Tender oasis,
Ingemmed in a wilderness of grey!
Kisses, kisses,—
Kisses upon your red lips in the black night ...
When, alone in the long, quiet street,
By the door of the tavern,
Shielded from sight of those within,
The soft rain falling on our heads like a mother’s blessing,—
We bartered the clinging kisses of new desire.
And, as I held you to me,
The whole universe
Became informed of God,
And lay within my arms.