Classic Poem

As I do live, these things I tell
Are true and written with my hand. —
Like Lucifer from heaven I fell,
And dropped at night in No Man's Land.
My feet took root in shifting sand,
Whose grains were broken bones of men;
But from that ghastly grinding strand
I writhed my body free again.

I came upon a grove of fir,
And found a cone-ypaven street
Which led where scented juniper
Did hedge an arbour warm and sweet,
For goddesses' appointments meet.
There were old roses, autumn-proof,
And violets sleeping at my feet,
And woven woodbine made the roof.

Sleep wound me in her purple zone,
And laid me on a bed of moss
Like dark green taffeta that's sewn
With golden lace of rusted gloss.
No need had I to turn and toss:
I slumbered like a babe new-born;
But knew the moon had struck across
My head when I awoke at morn.

I dipped my face among the dew;
The rosy odours were my food;
I knelt where valley-lilies blew,
And agates all the channel strewed,
To drink with birds; I was endued
With power to understand their notes;
They lauded love as lovers should,
With eager hearts and trembling throats.

As through the wood I took my way
They flew along from tree to tree,
And cheered me with their roundelay;
And I was glad as I could be.
But when I heard the moaning sea,
And reached the forest's bourn, they fled,
And left me on an upland lea,
An empty heaven overhead.

And straightway then I understood
That it was evening; half an hour
Had seemed my journey through the wood,
And yet a day had passed; the bower,
The birds, the time were in the power
Of some enchantment, as I thought;
I wondered whose could be the dower
Of witchcraft that this thing had wrought.

Soon I was ware who wove the spell:
There stood between me and the west
That burned with sunset, on the swell
Of the high lea, a woman, dressed
In crimson, with a golden vest;
A crescent crown, with jewels proud,
Among her hair, half-loose, half-tressed,
Sat like a rainbow on a cloud.

Her head upon her shoulder hung,
As she undid her hair; one arm
Was naked; to herself she sung;
And that is how she works her charm
On souls of men to do them harm.
I shook, and shrieking would have gone,
But natheless all my soul's alarm,
With her bright eyes she drew me on.

Low, low she laughed and kissed my mouth,
Then wrapped me in her golden hair.
She was a sorceress in sooth,
And held me with a mother's care
Close to her bosom pressed; and there
Her strong heart did the charm conclude,
Entuning mine until it bare
A burden to her beating blood.

She took me to a curtained cave,
Where lamps, like moonlight, white and still,
Shed perfumed lustre. The bright wave
That furthest dares when great thoughts fill
The ocean's heart of love, and spill
In swelling tides, stole up and laid
One kiss upon the cavern's sill,
Then shrank away as if afraid.

At moments music, soft and rich,
From hidden minstrels came in gusts;
Anon the rainbow-crested witch
Sang piercing songs of loves and lusts;
And once she spake: " Behold where rusts
The armour of an elfin knight!
Behold! with thrice three deadly thrusts
I killed him: he defied my might. "

Night sank: the moon hung o'er the wave,
But such a radiant flood was thrown
Across the waters from the cave,
The moon was like a ghost — her own;
No palest star beside her shone;
And pageants through that bright sea-room
Whose heaven-high walls were night, swept on
From gloom to glare, from glare to gloom.

I saw the ocean fairies float;
And Venus and her island passed;
I saw Ulysses in his boat —
His struggles bent the seasoned mast.
I, too, prayed madly to be cast
Among the waves, when close in-shore
The Syrens, singing, came at last;
But the witch wove her spell once more.

I saw a ship become a wrack;
Charybdis laughed, and Scylla bayed;
Arion on the dolphin's back,
By Nereids courted, sang and played;
And Proteus like a phantom strayed;
Old Neptune passed with locks of white;
When Dian came, the heavenly maid,
I saw the moon had vanished quite.

Then voices rose and trumpets rolled;
And broidered, silken sails appeared,
And crowded decks, and masts of gold,
And heavy, blazoned banners reared —
The burning eye, the swarthy beard,
The glittering arms with gems inlaid,
The starry swords the Paynim feared,
The glory of the first crusade.

Straight came a storm; from thunder-clouds
The golden lightning streamed and flashed,
And fired the twisted, silken shrouds.
And gilt the foam; the thunder crashed,
And rain like arrows stung and lashed
The pallid knights, whose armour rang;
Ship smote on straining ship and thrashed
The waves, and shrill the wild wind sang.

Then suddenly the sun arose,
And from her cave she made me pack,
That wanton witch, with gibes and blows.
I prayed her to be taken back
And see more visions, when — alack! —
Fast rooted in the grinding strand
I found myself, the human wrack,
The ghastly verge of No Man's Land.