At twilight in the starlight, Wistful One,
I heard thy piping, — saw thee in the cool
Of evening, by a blue and placid pool
Of pallid-coloured water, whereupon
Some early stars were lying;
Behind thee, olive and tall cypress trees
O'erlaid the rosy end of day's down-dying;
While in low tones and plaining minor keys
Thou madest thine illusive melodies,
And alway calledst, " Hither, O come hither. "
I followed, sighing, " Whither,
O whither wilt thou lead me, Wistful One? "
Unwearied seeker after Paradise,
O Pilgrim with all visions in thine eyes,
Already art thou gone?
I hear thee, yet do hardly see;
Stay yet a while, wilt thou not wait for me,
O Wistful One?
Thou rovest now some heavy-wooded steep
On yonder darkling Apennines:
The shepherds, when thou comest, leave their sheep,
And thou disturbest the deep-dreaming pines:
Sea-wearied mariners, no sooner home,
Than hearing thee, lie wakeful half a night,
Then kiss their brides, and quickly in moonlight
Unfurl their sails, and on again they roam.
O thou that fallest with soft-falling rains,
Thou sigh that follow'st the departing sun,
How many faces to their window-panes
Thou drawest, Wistful One:
Thou callest up light-sleeping Princesses,
O midnight mover among palace trees
And wakener of birds in coverts green;
And weaving maidens in their tower room,
Turn, when they hear thee, leave the humming loom,
And from their casements, lost in wonder, lean.
Thou worshipper of clouds in distant skies,
I see thee, when the moon begins to dawn,
Down the long sweep of some wide stately lawn,
With arms uplift and hope-entranced eyes:
Or where the road, far-travelling, vanishes
In curving under low-embowered trees,
One moment, and no more,
Thy fingers beckon, and thine eyes implore.
Unhappy here, thou wouldst be journeying far
Over the blue verge of the watery plain,
Beyond the sun's, beyond the moon's domain:
O alien, from the land where angels are,
Here hast thou strayed, and lost thy way, and fain
Wouldst find thine own fair fields again.
Ever thou roamest by the winding streams,
Between the hills to far leaf-hidden springs,
Roaming and seeking, while thy sad heart sings
Of times that are not the long-treasured themes;
We hear thee when the faint moon gleams:
And lo, all lovelier things,
Lo, all our deep divine imaginings,
Are wakings from thy songs, thy songs and dreams
When on the midnight wind sing spirit-choirs
Thy voice the Poet inspires,
In chiming words, keyed low, blent tones of Fancy's wreathing:
'Tis by thy breathing
The violin moans her infinite desires:
Cathedrals, where tall pillars rise and rise,
Are builded of thy longing for lost Paradise.
I saw thy maidens round thee, circle-wise,
Even in a place apart, an hallow'd hill,
At twilight, when the air is blue and still;
Their oval faces lifted in surmise
Were silver-lighten'd out of starry skies,
And there was star-light in their wakeful eyes.
With finely-taper'd fingers,
They woke the hidden note that lingers
Deep in the lute's heart and mute cithern strings,
The song of wished, dim-discerned things,
That always on the listless strings
Lingers, and only waits and stays
Till it may sail on villanelle and spiral virelays.
They gave the lorn note wings,
What time they touched the trembling strings,
Singing of Avalon the haunted isle,
Far over-sea, so long a while
Sought on horizons ever vanishing.
I heard them sing
Their passion-yearning, wild and sweet,
Until, where dusk and fair dreams meet,
The far sea-island floated near, and lo
The opal gates, the frail tall towers aglow
In gems of emerald and warm, ruby hues,
Soft-lighted, under evening's deep'ning blues.
So near, and yet I could but know,
I could but hear, mid their heart-piercing strain,
That all the sweet was only born of pain,
Seeing that no man shall that isle attain:
Dream, dream; aye, all a dream, and are not dreams but vain?
Yet out of dusty cities, parching lands,
I saw men lifting up imploring hands,
For on them, too, the gracious vision shone;
And they were moved, and ill-satisfied,
The while they heard thee, and their hearts out-cried,
" O thither, bring us thither, Wistful One. "
I heard thy piping, — saw thee in the cool
Of evening, by a blue and placid pool
Of pallid-coloured water, whereupon
Some early stars were lying;
Behind thee, olive and tall cypress trees
O'erlaid the rosy end of day's down-dying;
While in low tones and plaining minor keys
Thou madest thine illusive melodies,
And alway calledst, " Hither, O come hither. "
I followed, sighing, " Whither,
O whither wilt thou lead me, Wistful One? "
Unwearied seeker after Paradise,
O Pilgrim with all visions in thine eyes,
Already art thou gone?
I hear thee, yet do hardly see;
Stay yet a while, wilt thou not wait for me,
O Wistful One?
Thou rovest now some heavy-wooded steep
On yonder darkling Apennines:
The shepherds, when thou comest, leave their sheep,
And thou disturbest the deep-dreaming pines:
Sea-wearied mariners, no sooner home,
Than hearing thee, lie wakeful half a night,
Then kiss their brides, and quickly in moonlight
Unfurl their sails, and on again they roam.
O thou that fallest with soft-falling rains,
Thou sigh that follow'st the departing sun,
How many faces to their window-panes
Thou drawest, Wistful One:
Thou callest up light-sleeping Princesses,
O midnight mover among palace trees
And wakener of birds in coverts green;
And weaving maidens in their tower room,
Turn, when they hear thee, leave the humming loom,
And from their casements, lost in wonder, lean.
Thou worshipper of clouds in distant skies,
I see thee, when the moon begins to dawn,
Down the long sweep of some wide stately lawn,
With arms uplift and hope-entranced eyes:
Or where the road, far-travelling, vanishes
In curving under low-embowered trees,
One moment, and no more,
Thy fingers beckon, and thine eyes implore.
Unhappy here, thou wouldst be journeying far
Over the blue verge of the watery plain,
Beyond the sun's, beyond the moon's domain:
O alien, from the land where angels are,
Here hast thou strayed, and lost thy way, and fain
Wouldst find thine own fair fields again.
Ever thou roamest by the winding streams,
Between the hills to far leaf-hidden springs,
Roaming and seeking, while thy sad heart sings
Of times that are not the long-treasured themes;
We hear thee when the faint moon gleams:
And lo, all lovelier things,
Lo, all our deep divine imaginings,
Are wakings from thy songs, thy songs and dreams
When on the midnight wind sing spirit-choirs
Thy voice the Poet inspires,
In chiming words, keyed low, blent tones of Fancy's wreathing:
'Tis by thy breathing
The violin moans her infinite desires:
Cathedrals, where tall pillars rise and rise,
Are builded of thy longing for lost Paradise.
I saw thy maidens round thee, circle-wise,
Even in a place apart, an hallow'd hill,
At twilight, when the air is blue and still;
Their oval faces lifted in surmise
Were silver-lighten'd out of starry skies,
And there was star-light in their wakeful eyes.
With finely-taper'd fingers,
They woke the hidden note that lingers
Deep in the lute's heart and mute cithern strings,
The song of wished, dim-discerned things,
That always on the listless strings
Lingers, and only waits and stays
Till it may sail on villanelle and spiral virelays.
They gave the lorn note wings,
What time they touched the trembling strings,
Singing of Avalon the haunted isle,
Far over-sea, so long a while
Sought on horizons ever vanishing.
I heard them sing
Their passion-yearning, wild and sweet,
Until, where dusk and fair dreams meet,
The far sea-island floated near, and lo
The opal gates, the frail tall towers aglow
In gems of emerald and warm, ruby hues,
Soft-lighted, under evening's deep'ning blues.
So near, and yet I could but know,
I could but hear, mid their heart-piercing strain,
That all the sweet was only born of pain,
Seeing that no man shall that isle attain:
Dream, dream; aye, all a dream, and are not dreams but vain?
Yet out of dusty cities, parching lands,
I saw men lifting up imploring hands,
For on them, too, the gracious vision shone;
And they were moved, and ill-satisfied,
The while they heard thee, and their hearts out-cried,
" O thither, bring us thither, Wistful One. "