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(Four Zoas, Night IX, II. 386–452.)
‘COME forth, O Vala! from the grass and from the silent dew; | |
| Rise from the dews of death, for the Eternal Man is risen!’ | |
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| She rises among flowers and looks toward the eastern clearness; | |
| She walks, yea runs—her feet are wing’d—on the tops of the bending grass; | |
| Her garments rejoice in the vocal wind, and her hair glistens with dew. | 5 |
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| She answer’d thus: ‘Whose voice is this in the voice of the nourishing air, | |
| In the spirit of the morning, awaking the Soul from its grassy bed? | |
| Where dost thou dwell? for it is thee I seek, and but for thee | |
| I must have slept eternally, nor have felt the dew of thy morning. | |
| Look how the opening dawn advances with vocal harmony! | 10 |
| Look how the beams foreshow the rising of some glorious power! | |
| The Sun is thine; he goeth forth in his majestic brightness. | |
| O thou creating voice that callest! and who shall answer thee? | |
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| ‘Where dost thou flee, O Fair One! where dost thou seek thy happy place? | |
| To yonder brightness? There I haste, for sure I came from thence; | 15 |
| Or I must have slept eternally, nor have felt the dew of morning.’ | |
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| ‘Eternally thou must have slept, nor have felt the morning dew, | |
| But for yon nourishing Sun: ’tis that by which thou art arisen. | |
| The birds adore the Sun; the beasts rise up and play in his beams, | |
| And every flower and every leaf rejoices in his light. | 20 |
| Then, O thou Fair One, sit thee down, for thou art as the grass, | |
| Thou risest in the dew of morning, and at night art folded up.’ | |
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| ‘Alas! am I but as a flower? Then will I sit me down; | |
| Then will I weep; then I’ll complain, and sigh for immortality, | |
| And chide my maker, thee O Sun, that raisedst me to fall.’ | 25 |
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| So saying she sat down and wept beneath the apple-trees. | |
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| ‘O! be thou blotted out, thou Sun, that raisedst me to trouble, | |
| That gavest me a heart to crave, and raisedst me, thy phantom, | |
| To feel thy heart, and see thy light, and wander here alone, | |
| Hopeless, if I am like the grass, and so shall pass away.’ | 30 |
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| ‘Rise, sluggish Soul! Why sitt’st thou here? why dost thou sit and weep? | |
| Yon Sun shall wax old and decay, but thou shalt ever flourish. | |
| The fruit shall ripen and fall down, and the flowers consume away, | |
| But thou shalt still survive. Arise! O dry thy dewy tears!’ | |
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| ‘Ha! shall I still survive? Whence came that sweet and comforting voice, | 35 |
| And whence that voice of sorrow? O Sun! thou art nothing now to me: | |
| Go on thy course rejoicing, and let us both rejoice together! | |
| I walk among His flocks and hear the bleating of His lambs. | |
| O! that I could behold His face and follow His pure feet! | |
| I walk by the footsteps of His flocks. Come hither, tender flocks! | 40 |
| Can you converse with a pure Soul that seeketh for her Maker? | |
| You answer not: then am I set your mistress in this garden. | |
| I’ll watch you and attend your footsteps. You are not like the birds | |
| That sing and fly in the bright air; but you do lick my feet, | |
| And let me touch your woolly backs: follow me as I sing; | 45 |
| For in my bosom a new Song arises to my Lord: | |
| ‘Rise up, O Sun! most glorious minister and light of day! | |
| Flow on, ye gentle airs, and bear the voice of my rejoicing! | |
| Wave freshly, clear waters, flowing around the tender grass; | |
| And thou, sweet-smelling ground, put forth thy life in fruit and flowers! | 50 |
| Follow me, O my flocks, and hear me sing my rapturous song! | |
| I will cause my voice to be heard on the clouds that glitter in the sun. | |
| I will call, and who shall answer me? I shall sing; who shall reply? | |
| For, from my pleasant hills, behold the living, living springs, | |
| Running among my green pastures, delighting among my trees! | 55 |
| I am not here alone: my flocks, you are my brethren; | |
| And you birds, that sing and adorn the sky, you are my sisters. | |
| I sing, and you reply to my song; I rejoice, and you are glad. | |
| Follow me, O my flocks! we will now descend into the valley. | |
| O, how delicious are the grapes, flourishing in the sun! | 60 |
| How clear the spring of the rock, running among the golden sand! | |
| How cool the breezes of the valley! And the arms of the branching trees | |
| Cover us from the sun: come and let us sit in the shade. | |
| My Luvah here hath plac’d me in a sweet and pleasant land, | |
| And given me fruits and pleasant waters, and warm hills and cool valleys. | 65 |
| Here will I build myself a house, and here I’ll call on His name; | |
| Here I’ll return, when I am weary, and take my pleasant rest.’ | |
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