Classic Poem

( A FRAGMENT )

The Persons of the Masque:

The Dawn that shall wear a saffron gown, and in her hair daffodils .
H IGH N OON that shall wear a golden dress and necklets of amber .
E VENTIDE that shall be habited in grey and have glowworms on her brow .
Night that shall be dressed in black with a coronal of stars and the crescent moon .
The Scene shall be a hilltop, high in air, with the blue sky painted fair on the backcloths. There shall be a great gilt framework Sphere of the Universe, set with jewels for the stars, and with the Signs of the Zodiac. It shall revolve slowly, and within shall sit the Dawn , H IGH N OON and others. In its centre there shall be a great Globe of the Earth with the lands and the seas fairly marked. Round about it shall go one score and four men bearing the four-and-twenty torches of the Hours. Without, shall stand a Man and a Woman.
A Chorus habited like a reverend old man shall enter and shall tell how that the Times of Day, being weary of long contentions for the Dominion of the earth, have set this Man and this Woman to choose which of these four shall have sole Empire .
The Music shall sound, and when it shall have ceased, the Dawn shall step forth from the Sphere as it revolves and shall say :

I AM the Dawn, beloved by those that watch.

Then H IGH N OON :

I am the Noon, beloved by those that toil.

Then E VENTIDE :

I am the Eve, beloved by those that tire.

Then T HE Night :

I am the Night beloved by them that love.

Then shall those four dance together until the Dawn stands forth from among them and sings :

I am the Dawn, beloved by those that watch,
I come a-creeping, I come a-stealing
Over eastern mountains, over dewy lawns,
Pale, golden, slender, pale and very tender,
Unto you who 've watched the night through hoping for the dawn's
Rise to usher Hope back.

A dance again, and then H IGH N OON shall sing :

I am High Noon, beloved by those that toil.
I bring your resting times, ring your midday feasting chimes,
Pan's hour that brings you panting to the hedgerows,
Dalliance in the river rushes,
In the shadows and deep hushes,
Over bee-filled beds of potherbs, over bird-filled, quivering woodlands,
Blessed rest in summer days, surcease 'neath the Summer haze.

A dance again, and in her turn the E VENTIDE shall sing :

I am the Eve, beloved by those that tire.

All along the sunken lanes
And across the parching plains
I set dewy winds a-blowing,
Bring the cattle byrewards, lowing;
Bring the bats out, lure the owls out, lure the twilight beasts and fowls out;
Bid a broadening path of moonbeams hunt the homing smacks from seaward,
Flitting past the harbour lanthorns, trailing in a flight to leeward;
Set the harbour tumult rounding up the misty windings of the mountains;
Set my tiny horns a-sounding by the rillets, by the woodland fountains . . .
Tiny, tiny gnat-horns sounding in an intermitting cadence,
Cry, " Stroll homewards men and maidens,
Done is done and over's over,
Leave the wheatfields, quit the clover,
Masters, hired ones, all you tired ones,
Troop along the dog-rose lanes, troop across the misty plains,
Done is done . . . is done, and over's over. "

The Night shall step forward and shall catch at the arm of the Eve. Then shall Night say :

( To the Eve ) Enough, enough,
You steal too many of my silent hours . . .
( To the Man and the Woman ) I am the Night beloved by them that love
As you do love.

I am that Night
That was in the beginning, I am she
That shall be the end . . . You come from me
And hasten back to me, and all the rest
Is shadow.
What's the Dawn?
The shadow of a dream . . . And what High Noon?
A vague unrest, a shadow on your slumbers . . .
And ling ring Eve has shadows in her hair,
The shadows of a shadow. . . . She's a thief
That steals my attributes, and is beloved
Because she is my shadow.
I am Truth,
A darkness, a soft darkness. And in that
Is all that's worth the seeing. In my arms
Is all that's worth the having. I'm august
But tender . . . tender . . . Oh, you mortal things,
That pass from Night to Night, from womb to womb
I am the best.

She sings.

Over my grasses go, for a little while
I'll bid my flowers breathe their faint night scents.
For a little while
Go close together, straining lip to lip,
Go close together, straining heart to heart,
For a little while . . . for all the time you have.

She speaks again.

The soft warm darkness shall hang overhead,
The great white planets wheel from the horizon,
You shall not know the nakedness of shame,
Nor know at all of sorrow on the earth,
The while I hang above you with the face
Of a wan mother, white with light of stars.

She sings again.

Over my grasses go for a little while,
Hearing no sound, seeing no sight of earth,
For a little while
Cling close together, straining lip to lip,
Cling close together, straining breast to breast,
For a little while . . . for all the time you have . . .

(She speaks very low, as if to herself.)

And at the last
A wind shall sigh among my whispering grasses,
The planets fail behind a brooding cloud,
Your eyelids shall fall down upon your eyes
And it shall be the end . . .

She sings as if triumphantly.

Under my grasses lie for the rest of time,
Hearing no sound, thinking no thought of earth,
For the rest of time.
Lie close together, silent, ear to ear,
Lie close together, slumb'ring hand in hand,
For the rest of time, for all the time you have.
Then shall men unseen in the roof of the hall hoist out of sight the gilt Sphere of the Zodiac, and there shall be disclosed a great globe of the Earth which had been hid within the other. Then shall the four Times of Day Dance a solemn measure round the globe to the sound of music. There shall be sundry devices. As that, there shall come a Woman called the Autumn habited in russet and garlanded with streamers of berries of the hawthorn. And this Autumn would have the Times of Day observe a nice distance, equal one from the other, and a flight of the birds called starlings shall be set free. Then shall a reverend man dressed in furs, and bearing a heavy burden of thorns cut faggot wise, enter. He shall be the Winter, and shall dispute with the Autumn as to the manner of the dance. He shall wish the Dawn and the E VE to stand nearer H IGH N OON . And he shall prevail, and a flight of great wood doves shall cross the hall. And in like manner shall come the Spring and the Summer each with their due attributes. These last four shall join hands and dance round about the Times of Day. Then shall come men to the number of the cycles that have passed since the year of our Lord's birth, and shall dance a solemn measure round them all. And a salvo of musquetoons shall be shot off without, beneath the windows of the hall. And when the dance is ended

The End Piece shall be sung —

What if we say:
" These too shall pass away. "
Whether we say it
Now, or delay it
How we may,
These too shall pass away.