He had a vision of a golden throne Fronting an altar; both alike were bare, But o'er the purple of the regal chair Blazed the device, "I wait for him alone Who with the world has held his soul his own." He sadly turned, this height he could not dare. But--Stay--the text upon the altar there-- "I wait for him who has not made a moan Howe'er his kind have used his heaven-sent dower. Fear not, and burn thine incense, lowly heart." And sudden brightness turns the averted face, To holy sense of majesty and power-- And a voice:--"Master--this indeed thou art." Wondrous music trembles thro' the space.
You have not ceased for me. Though stern-browed Fate Laid our two paths apart; when in the West She gave you over to the seas, and great Wide winds of enterprise, and set your breast Against the suns and shadows of the earth; Then with a gilded largess, led my ways Toward the time-worn East, who paints her dearth With purple vain imaginings; the praise Of all her languid incense and the pride Of ancient mysteries and hopeless creeds Hold for my heart no spell when warm and wide I see across the blue of Isis' veil The thunderous breakers of your ocean pale And glints of prairie sun through river reeds.
The pallid waves caress the paler sand, Falter and tremble, then reluctant wane, Fearing advance, yet venturing again. Grey deep sea waves that never knew the land, Tired with the tumult, stretch a crooked hand To win a precious sweet surcease from pain, But, glancing back upon the mighty main, Perforce return to swell the strong command. So fretful Life sees Death's cold sands and faints To fling thereon the wearing of her wave, Yet, turning ere she finds the gloomy shore, Seeing ahead the idle senseless grave, Behind--the Kings, the Patriots and the Saints, She sighing turns to face the fight once more.
I asked for water and they brought me wine; Wine in a jewelled chalice, where the gold Gleamed thro' the purple beads, as if unrolled-- One saw the sun-rays of a life-time shine. So drinking, I forgot my dream divine Of crystal purity, for in my hold Were wealth and Fame and Passions manifold Which with the draught I fancied might be mine.
"Ah, Youth," I said, "Ah, Faith and Love!" I said; "These are but broken lances in the strife! What shall remain when all these things are sped?" Then crashed the dream. I clutched the hand of Fate Amid the ruins of my shattered life, And found the Gods had cheated, all too late.