Lament, fair-hearted queen, lament with me; For when thy seer died no song was sung, Nor for our heroes fall’n by land or sea Hath honor found a tongue, Nor aught of beauty for their tomb can frame Worthy their noble name. Let Mirth go bare; make mute thy dancing string; With thy majestic consolation Sweeten our suffering. Speak thou my woe, that from her pain My spirit arise to see again The Truth unknown that keeps our faith, The Beauty unseen that bates our breath, The heaven that doth our joy renew, And drinketh up our tears as dew.
Man born of desire Cometh out of the night, A wandering spark of fire, A lonely word of eternal thought, Echoing in chance and forgot.
He seeth the sun, He calleth the stars by name, He saluteth the flowers. Wonders of land and sea, The mountain towers Of ice and air He seeth, and calleth them fair. Then he hideth his face:-- Whence he came to pass away Where all is forgot, Unmade,--lost for aye With the things that are not.
He striveth to know, To unravel the Mind That veileth in horror; He wills to adore; In wisdom he walketh And loveth his kind; His laboring breath Would keep evermore. Then he hideth his face:-- Whence he came to pass away Where all is forgot, Unmade,--lost for aye With the things that are not.
He dreameth of beauty, He seeks to create Fairer and fairer, To vanquish his fate; No hindrance he, No curse will brook; He maketh a law No ill shall be.
Then he hideth his face:-- Whence he came to pass away Where all is forgot, Unmade,--lost for aye With the things that are not.
Rejoice, ye dead, where’er your spirits dwell; Rejoice that yet on earth your fame is bright, And that your names, remembered day and night, Live on the lips of those who love you well. ’Tis ye that conquered have the powers of Hell Each with the special grace of your delight; Ye are the world’s creators, and by might Alone of heavenly love ye did excel.
Now ye are starry names, Behind the sun ye climb, To light the glooms of time With deathless flames.
Open for me the gates of delight, The gates of the garden of man’s desire; Where spirits touched by heavenly fire Have planted the trees of life. Their branches in beauty are spread, Their fruit divine To the nations is given for bread And crushed into wine.