ABSTRACT
Edward Carpenter. From Narcissus and Other Poems, 1873. Upward all day we toiled athwart the rain, Henry and I, through Alpine pastures green And great firwoods that overhung the vale Far spread below; but ever, as evening fell Day’s cloudy curtain parted, and the mists Thinned more and more, and fled among the hills, Or dropped beneath, or clung in silver threads To tresses of dim forest; and we saw A clear blue arch of space spanned high above, And, burning behind the utmost mountain edge, Gold altar-glories of the stricken sun. And high amid the snows we found a crag, Hung darkly on that argent slope, within Stamped hollows as by rage of Titan tost; And there we lit the flame, and made ourselves Good cheer, while round us dreamed a silent world. But ere we slept he, my beloved, arose And lightly left our firelit cave and stood Night circled on a jutting rock beyond; And with the setting stars about his head And at his feet that purple vale profound, He sang the song he sings me evermore. He sang to watchful heaven and weary earth, To glittering peak and star and crescent moon, And high Love, and the lovelorn Heart of all. And all the vales were filled with melody, And o’er the wide wide night and clear profound, And over the blank snows and barren crags, His song came floating back unto his feet: Unto his feet, and deep into my heart, There as I lay by the fire and saw him stand, Saw him there in the night, and see him now, Now, and for ever, For he came not back. At morning dawn, when earth was dashed with light, Beside the golden summit he slipped and fell, And slid, and passed to his own home beyond.
