Classic Poem

L — S of Kamba

Seeing the stars and groping in the dust

Love is a lonely mountain tinged with dawn,
Rising unmov'd and dumb among the hills,
Rain-wash'd, and swept by winds that do not wait,
Giant, pathetic, turning to the skies.
Stone eyes that measure distance, while the base
Grapples with granite hands the shrinking plain;
A shatter'd power, fetter'd by itself,
Seeing the stars, but groping in the dust.

So Kamba thought. Beneath the heavy boughs
Dew-laden, in the early dust of dawn,
He stirr'd the dying fire and gaz'd out
Unto the fading stars and the high peak
And mock'd; and curs'd the dawn-wind, and the cold
Great drops that dripp'd like diamonds from the leaves.

All the camp slept; the restless sleep of dawn;
That sleep that feels the morning but is loth
To change a chilly rest for chillin toil;
The huddled Kafirs wrapp'd in greasy cloths
Drew nearer for the warmth; the shaking dogs
Cuddled their heads beneath their spangled paws.
Kamba glanc'd round, and shiver'd; at the guns
Propp'd to his hand and glittering with the dew,
The wet tins in the skoff-box, the fresh hides
Stretch'd on the boughs, the haunches of raw meat
The empty skulls, the scraps of wasted food,
The rusted axes and the frosted loads —
Silent, he seiz'd his rifle and went forth
Wiping the barrel with a tatter'd rag.

Love, art thou born of day-dawn? When the East
Shyly withdraws the curtains of the night
Stretching warm arms, rose-finger'd to the Earth
Her laggard sister, to awake and stir.
Art thou in league with morning — with pale stars
That laugh, and go; with that faint golden beam
That gilds the summit of the lonely peak,
Kissing his furrow'd brow, his steadfast eyes
That yearn so patiently towards the sky?
Art thou compact with shadows in the grass —
With whisper'd secrets in the waking leaves —
What that deep gloom that lingers under boughs
Above the gleam of undiscover'd pools?

Or art thou, Love, as Kamba held re-bent;
A vast sad peak that dominates the plains;
A mighty landmark, seen, but seldom scaled;
Ungainly and ridiculous; a target
For errant arrows, and a home for winds,
But barren and impossible; A dream
Gilt to the East, but shadow'd in the West?