{"id":1450,"date":"2013-07-13T01:34:53","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:34:53","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1450"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:34:53","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:34:53","slug":"93-thought-the-paraclete-vol-05-collected-poems-volume-05","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/01-sabcl\/05-collected-poems-volume-05\/93-thought-the-paraclete-vol-05-collected-poems-volume-05","title":{"rendered":"-93_Thought the Paraclete.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n

\n\t\tThought
\nthe <\/font> <\/span><\/b>
\n\t\tParaclete<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span>
\n\t\t<\/font> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t <\/p>\n\n\n
 <\/td>\n\n


\nA<\/span><\/font>s some bright archangel in vision flies
\nPlunged in dream-caught spirit immensities,
\nPast the long green crests of the seas of life,
\nPast the orange skies of the mystic mind
\nFlew my thought self-lost in the vasts<\/span> of God.
\nSleepless wide great glimmering wings of wind
\nBore the gold-red seeking of feet that trod
\nSpace and Time’s mute vanishing ends. The face
\nLustred<\/span>, pale-blue-lined of the hippogriff,
\nEremite, sole, daring the bourneless<\/span> ways,
\nOver world-bare summits of timeless being
\nGleamed; the deep twilights of the world-abyss
\nFailed below. Sun-realms of supernal seeing,
\nCrimson-white mooned oceans of pauseless<\/span> bliss
\nDrew its vague heart-yearning with voices sweet.
\nHungering, large-souled<\/span> to surprise the unconned<\/span>
\nSecrets white-fire-veiled of the last Beyond,
\nCrossing power-swept silences rapture-stunned,
\nClimbing high far ethers eternal-sunned,
\nThought the great-winged wanderer parac1ete
\nDisappeared slow-singing a flame-word rune.
\nSelf was left, lone, limitless, nude, immune.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-582<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n


\n
\nMoon of
\nTwo Hemispheres<\/a><\/font><\/span><\/b>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>
\nA gold moon-raft floats and swings slowly
\nAnd it casts a fire of pale holy blue light
\nOn the dragon tail aglow of the faint night
\nThat glimmers far, – swimming,
\nThe illumined shoals of stars skimming,
\nOverspreading earth and drowning the heart in sight
\nWith the ocean depths and breadths of the Infinite.<\/p>\n

A gold moon-ship sails or drifts ever
\nIn our spirit’s skies and halts never, blue-keeled,
\nAnd it throws its white-blue fire on this grey field,
\nNight’s dragon loop, – speeding,
\nThe illumined star-thought sloops leading
\nTo the Dawn, their harbour<\/span> home, to the Light
\nunsealed,
\nTo the sun-face Infinite, the Untimed<\/span> revealed.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-583<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n


\nRose of
\nGod<\/a><\/font><\/span><\/b>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>
\nRose of God, vermilion stain on the sapphires of heaven,
\nRose of Bliss, fire-sweet, seven-tinged with the ecstasies seven!
\nLeap up in our heart of humanhood<\/span>, 0 miracle, 0
\nflame,
\nPassion-flower of the Nameless, bud of the mystical Name.<\/p>\n

Rose of God, great wisdom-bloom on the summits of being,
\nRose of Light, immaculate core of the ultimate seeing!
\nLive in the mind of our earthhood<\/span>; 0 golden Mystery,
\nflower,
\nSun on the head of the Timeless, guest of the marvellous<\/span>
\nHour.<\/p>\n

Rose of God, damask force of Infinity, red icon of might,
\nRose of Power with thy diamond halo piercing the night!
\nAblaze in the will of the mortal, design the wonder of thy plan,
\nImage of Immortality, outbreak of the Godhead in man.<\/p>\n

Rose of God, smitten purple with the incarnate divine Desire,
\nRose of Life, crowded with petals, colour’s<\/span> lyre!
\nTransform the body of the mortal like a sweet and magical rhyme;
\nBridge our earthhood<\/span> and heavenhood<\/span>,
\nmake deathless the children
\nof Time.<\/p>\n

Rose of God, like a blush of rapture on Eternity’s face,
\nRose of Love, ruby depth of all being, fire-passion of Grace!
\nArise from the heart of the yearning that sobs in Nature’s abyss:
\nMake earth the home of the Wonderful and life beatitude’s kiss.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t\tPage-584<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n<\/div>\n
\n\n\n
\n


\nNOTES<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/span><\/b>
\nIn some of these poems, as in others of the Six Poems (see Bibliography), a quantitative
\nmetrical system has been used which seems to have puzzled some critics,
\napparently because it does not follow the laws of quantity obtaining in the
\nancient classical languages. But those laws are quite alien to the rhythm and
\nsound-structure of the English tongue; the attempt to observe them has always
\nended in deserved and inevitable failure. Another system has been followed here
\nwhich is in agreement with the native rhythm of English speech. There what
\ndetermines the metrical length or brevity of syllables is weight, the weight of
\nthe voice emphasis or the dwelling of the voice upon the sound. Where there is
\nthat emphasis or that dwelling of the voice, the syllable may be considered
\nmetrically long; where both are absent there will be, normally, a recognisable<\/span> shortness which can only be cured by some aid
\nof consonant weight or other lengthening circumstance. All stressed syllables
\nare metrically long in English and cannot be otherwise however short the vowel
\nmay be, for they dominate the verse movement; this is a fact which is ignored
\nin the traditional account of English quantity and which many experimenters in
\nquantitative verse have chosen to disregard with disastrous consequences, – all
\ntheir genius or skill in metrical technique could not save them from failure.
\nOn the other hand, a long-vowel syllable can be regarded as metrically long
\neven if there is no stress upon it. In the quantitative system used in these
\npoems this possibility is converted into a law: metrical length is obligatory
\nfor all such natural syllabic longs, while a short-vowel syllable unstressed is
\nnormally short for metrical purposes unless it is very heavily weighted with
\nconsonants. But the mere occurrence of two or more consonants after a short
\nvowel does not by itself make the syllable long as it necessarily does in
\nGreek, Latin or Sanskrit.<\/p>\n

The system may then be reduced to the following rules: –
\n1. All stressed syllables are regarded as metrically long, as also all
\nsyllables supported on a long vowel.
\n2. All short-vowel syllables not stressed are regarded as<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-585<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

\nshort unless they are heavily weighted with
\nconsonants. But on this last point no fixed rule can be given; in each case the
\near must be the judge.
\n3. There are a great number of sounds in English which can be regarded
\naccording to circumstances either as longs or as shorts. Here too the ear must
\ndecide in each case.
\n4. English quantity metres cannot be as rigid as the metres of ancient tongues.
\nThe rhythm of the language demands a certain variability, free or sparing,
\nwithout which monotony sets in; accordingly, in all English metres modulation
\nis admitted as possible. Even the most regular rhythms do not altogether shut our
\nthe substitution of other feet than those fixed in the normal basic arrangement
\nof the line; they admit at least so much as is needed to give the necessary
\npliancy or variety to the movement. There is sometimes a very free use of such
\nvariations; but they ought not to be allowed to break the basic movement or
\noverburden or overlay it. The same rule must apply in quantitative metres;
\nespecially in long poems modulations are indispensable.<\/p>\n

This system is not only not at discord with the sound-structure of the
\nlanguage, it accords closely with its natural rhythm; it only regulates and
\nintensifies into metrical pitch and tone the cadence that is already there even
\nin prose, even in daily speech. If we take passages from English literature
\nwhich were written as prose but with some intensity of rhythm, its movement can
\nbe at once detected, e.g.,
\n<\/i>
\nCŏnsīdĕr<\/span> | thĕ<\/span>
\nlīlĭĕs<\/span> | ŏf<\/span>
\nthĕ<\/span> fīēld<\/span>, |
\nhōw<\/span> thēy<\/span> grōw<\/span>; | | thēy<\/span> tōīl<\/span> nŏt<\/span>, |
\nnēīthĕr<\/span> do | thēy<\/span>
\nspīn<\/span>; | | yĕt<\/span> Ī
\n| sāy<\/span> ŭntŏ<\/span> |
\nyŏu<\/span> thăt<\/span> ēvěn<\/span> | Sōlŏmŏn<\/span>
\n|
\nĭn<\/span> āll<\/span> hĭs<\/span> | glōrў<\/span> | | wăs<\/span> nŏt<\/span> ărrāyed<\/span> | līke<\/span> ŭntŏ<\/span> | ōne<\/span> ŏf<\/span> thēse<\/span>: | |
\n <\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nor again,<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\nBlēssĕd<\/span> are | thĕ<\/span>
\nmēēk<\/span>; | fŏr<\/span> thēy<\/span> shăll<\/span> | ĭnhērĭt<\/span> | thĕ<\/span>
\nēārth<\/span> | . . . .
\nBlēssĕd<\/span> are | thĕ<\/span>
\npūre<\/span> ĭn<\/span> hēārt<\/span>; | fŏr<\/span> thēy<\/span> shăll<\/span> sēē<\/span> | Gōd<\/span>;
\nor again, from Shakespeare’s prose,
\nThĭs<\/span> gōōdly<\/span> frāme<\/span>, | thĕ<\/span> ēāth<\/span>, sēēms<\/span> tŏ<\/span> | mĕ<\/span> ă stērile<\/span> | prōmŏntŏrў<\/span>;
\n| <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-586<\/font><\/span>
\n<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n


\nthĭs<\/font><\/span><\/span> mōst<\/span>
\nēxcĕl|lĕnt<\/span> cānŏpў<\/span>,
\n| thĕ<\/span> āīr<\/span>, lōōk<\/span> yoŭ<\/span>, | thĭs<\/span> brāve<\/span>
\nō’ērhāng|ĭng<\/span> fīrmăměnt<\/span>,
\n| thĭs<\/span> măjēstĭc|ăl<\/span>
\nrōōf<\/span> frēttěd<\/span>
\n| with gōlděn<\/span> fire |<\/p>\n

and so on with a constant recurrence of the same quantitative movement all
\nthrough; or, yet more strikingly,<\/p>\n

Hōw<\/span> ārt<\/span> thōū<\/span> | făllĕn<\/span>
\nfrŏm<\/span> | Hēāvěn<\/span>,
\n0 | Lūcĭfěr<\/span>, | sōn<\/span>
\nŏf<\/span> thĕ<\/span> mōrnĭng<\/span>!<\/p>\n

This last sentence can be read indeed as a very perfect hexameter. The first of
\nthese passages could be easily presented as four lines of free quantitative
\nverse, each independent in its arrangement of feet, but all swaying in a single
\nrhythm. Shakespeare’s is most wonderfully balanced in a series of differing
\nfour-syllabled<\/span>, with occasional shorter, feet, as if
\nof deliberate purpose, though it is no intention of the mind but the ear of the
\npoet that has constructed this fine design of rhythmic prose. A free
\nquantitative verse in this kind would be perfectly possible.<\/font><\/span> <\/p>\n

\nA more regular quantitative metre can be of
\ntwo kinds. There could be lines all with the same metrical arrangement
\nfollowing each other without break or else alternating lines with a different
\narrangement for each, forming a stanza, – as in the practice of accentual metres. But there could also be an arrangement in strophe and antistrophe as in
\nthe Grtek<\/span> chorus. In Thought the Paraclete<\/span><\/i> the first rule is followed; all the lines are
\non the same model. The metre of this poem has a certain rhythmic similarity to
\nthe Latin hendecasyllable which runs \u00af \u00af<\/span> | \u00af ˘ ˘<\/span> | \u00af ˘ | \u00af ˘ | ˘˘,e.g.<\/p>\n

Sōlēs<\/span> | ōccĭdĕr<\/span>(e)
\n| ēt<\/span> rĕ|dīrĕ<\/span>
\n| pōssūnt<\/span>,
\nNōbīs<\/span> | cūm<\/span> sĕmĕl<\/span> | ōccĭd|īt<\/span>
\nbrĕ|vīs<\/span> lūx<\/span>
\nNōx<\/span> ēst<\/span> | pērpĕtŭ<\/span>(a) | ūnă<\/span>
\n| dōrmĭ|ēndă.<\/font>1<\/font><\/sup><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nBut here the metre runs
\n<\/font> <\/span>–<\/font> ˘ |
\n– –  | – ˘ ˘<\/span> | – ˘ | – – ˘ | ; a trochee
\n <\/font><\/span><\/p>\n


\n1<\/font><\/span><\/sup>Suns may set and come again;
\nFor us, when once our brief light has set,
\nThere is one perpetual night to be slept<\/font>
\n                                      <\/font> CATULLUS<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-587<\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

\nis transferred from the closing flow of
\ntrochees to the beginning of the line, the spondee and dactyl are pushed into
\nthe middle, the last syllable of the closing trochee is most often dropped
\naltogether. Classical metres cannot always with success be taken over just as
\nthey are into the English rhythm; often some modifications are needed to make
\nthem more malleable.
\n        In Moon of Two Hemispheres<\/i> the
\nstrophe antistrophe system has. been used: the lines of the stanza differ from
\neach other in the nature and order of the feet, no identity or approach to
\nidentity is imposed; but each line of the antistrophe follows scrupulously the
\narrangement of the corresponding line of the strophe. An occasional modulation
\nat most is allowed, e.g.,<\/i> the substitution of a trochee for a spondee.
\nThe whole poem, however, in spite of its metrical variations, follows a single
\ngeneral rhythmic movement.
\n   <\/i>     Rose of God<\/i>, like a
\nprevious poem In Horis<\/span> Aeternum<\/span><\/i>,
\nis wntten<\/span> in pure stress metre. As stress and high
\naccentual pitch usually coincide, it is possible to scan accentual metre on the
\nstress principle and stress metre also can be so written that it can be scanned
\nas accentual verse; but pure stress metre depends entirely on stress ictus. In
\nordinary poetry stress and natural syllabic quantity enter in as elements of
\nthe rhythm, but are not, qua<\/i> stress and quantity, essential elements of
\nthe basic metre: in pure stress metre there is a reversal of these values;
\nquantity and accentual inflexion are subordinate and help to build the rhythm,
\nbut stress alone determines the metrical basis. In Rose of God<\/i> each line
\nis composed of six stresses, and the whole poem is built of five stanzas, each
\ncontaining four such lines; the arrangement of feet varies freely to suit the
\nmovement of thought and feeling in each line. Thus,<\/p>\n

R\u00f3se<\/span> of | <\/font> <\/span>
\nG\u00f3d<\/font><\/span><\/span>, | damask f\u00f3rce<\/span> of | <\/font> <\/span>
\nInf\u00ednity<\/font><\/span><\/span>, | red \u00edcon<\/span> of | m\u00edght<\/span>,
\nR\u00f3se<\/span> of | P\u00f3wer<\/span> |<\/font><\/span> with thy <\/span><\/font> d\u00edam<\/span><\/font>|<\/font><\/span>ond<\/span><\/font><\/span><\/span> h\u00e1lo<\/span> <\/span><\/font> <\/span>
\n| pi\u00e9rcing<\/span>
\n| the n\u00edght<\/span>,
\nAbl\u00e1ze<\/span> | in the w\u00edll<\/span> of | the m\u00f3rtal<\/span>, |
\ndes\u00edgn<\/span> | the w\u00f3nder<\/span> of| thy
\n                                                                                               
\npl\u00e1n<\/span>,
\n\u00cdmage<\/span> of |<\/font><\/span> <\/span>
\n<\/font>
\n \u00cdmmor<\/span><\/font>|<\/font><\/span>t\u00e1lity<\/span><\/font><\/span><\/span>, <\/span>
\n<\/font> <\/span>| outbr\u00e9ak<\/span> of | the G\u00f3dhead<\/span> |
\nin man.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-588<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n\n\n
 <\/td>\n\n


\n
\nMusa<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span>
\nSpiritus<\/span><\/font><\/span><\/b><\/a>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>
\nO word concealed in the upper fire,
\nThou who hast lingered through centuries,
\nDescend from thy rapt white desire,
\nPlunging through gold eternities.<\/p>\n

Into the gulfs of our nature leap,
\nVoice of the spaces, call of the Light!
\nBreak the seals of Matter’s sleep,
\nBreak the trance of the unseen height.<\/p>\n

In the uncertain glow of human mind,
\nIts waste of unharmonied<\/span> thronging thoughts,
\nCarve thy epic mountain-lined
\nCrowded with deep prophetic grots.<\/p>\n

Let thy hue-winged lyrics hover like birds
\nOver the swirl of the heart’s sea.
\nTouch into sight with thy fire-words
\nThe blind indwelling deity.<\/p>\n

0 Muse of the Silence, the wideness make
\nIn the unplumbed stillness that hears thy voice,
\nIn the vast mute heavens of the spirit awake
\nWhere thy eagles of Power flame and rejoice.<\/p>\n

Out, out with the mind and its candle flares,
\nLight, light the suns that never die.
\nFor my ear the cry of the seraph stars
\nAnd the forms of the Gods for my naked eye!<\/p>\n

Let the little troubled life-god within
\nCast his veils from the still soul,
\nHis tiger-stripes of virtue and sin,
\nHis c1amour and glamour and thole<\/span> and dole;<\/p>\n

All make tranquil, all make free.
\nLet my heart-beats measure the footsteps of God
\nAs He comes from His timeless infinity
\nTo build in their rapture His burning abode.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-589<\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

\nHis calm pure dawns and His noons<\/span> of force.
\nMy acts for the grooves of His chariot-race,
\nMy thoughts for the tramp of His great steeds’ course!<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n <\/font><\/span><\/p>\n


\n
\nKrishna<\/a><\/font><\/span><\/b>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>CRETICS<\/font><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

O immense Light and thou, O spirit-wide boundless Space,
\nWhom have you clasped and hid, deathless limbs, gloried face?
\nVainly lie Space and Time, "Void are we, there is none."
\nVainly strive Self and World crying, "I, I alone."
\nOne is there, Self of self, Soul of Space, Fount of Time,
\nHeart of hearts, Mind of minds, He alone sits, sublime.
\nOh, no void Absolute self-absorbed, splendid, mute,
\nHands that clasp hold and red lips that kiss blow the flute.
\nAll He loves, all He moves, all are His, all are He!
\nMany limbs sate His whims, bear His sweet ecstasy.
\nTwo in One, Two who know difference rich in sense,
\nTwo to clasp, One to be, this His strange mystery.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>Page-590<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n\n\n
 <\/td>\n\n


\nThe World Game<\/font><\/b><\/span>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/b>
\nTHE ISHWARA TO THE ISHWARI<\/p>\n

In god-years yet unmeasured by a man’s thought or by the earth’s dance or the
\nmoon’s spin
\nI have guarded the law of the Invisible for the sake of thy smile, O sweet;
\nWhile lives followed innumerable winged lives, as if birds crossing a wide sea,
\nI have watched on the path of the centuries for the light of thy running feet.<\/p>\n

The earth’s dancing with tpe<\/span> sun in his fire-robes,
\nwas it not thou circling my flame-soul?
\nThe gazings<\/span> of the moon in its nectar-joy were my
\nlook questing for thee through Space.
\nThe world’s haste and the racing of the tense mind and the long gallop of fleet
\nyears
\nWere my speed to arrive through the flux of things and to neighbour<\/span>
\nat last thy face.<\/p>\n

The earth’s seeking is mine and the immense scope of the slow aeons<\/span> my heart’s way;
\nFor I follow a secret and sublime Will and the steps of thy Mother-might.
\nIn the dim brute and the peering of man’s brain and the calm sight in a god’s
\neyes
\nIt is I who am questing in Life’s broken ways for thy laughter and love and
\nlight.<\/p>\n

When Time moved not yet nor Space was unrolled wide, for thy game of the worlds
\nI gave
\nMyself to thy delightful hands of power to govern me and move and drive;
\nTo earth’s dumbness I fell for thy desire’s sport weaving my spirit stuff
\nIn a million pattern-shapes of souls made with me alive.<\/p>\n

The worlds are only a playfield of Thou-I and a hued masque of the Two-One,
\nI am in thee as thou art in me, 0 Love; we are closer than heart and breast;
\nFrom thee I leaped forth struck to a spirit spark, I mount back in the soul’s
\nfire;<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage-591<\/font>
\n<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

\nTo our motion the stars whirl in the swing of
\nTime, our oneness is Nature’s rest.
\nWhen Light first from the unconscious Immense broke (burst) to create nebula and
\nsun
\n‘Twas<\/span> the meeting of our hands through the empty
\nNight that enkindled the fateful blaze;
\nThe huge systems abandoned their inert trance and this green crater of life
\nrose
\nThat we might look on each other form on form from the depths of a living gaze.<\/p>\n

The Mind travelled<\/span> in its ranges tier on tier with
\nits wide-eyed or its rapt thought,
\nMy thought toiling laboured<\/span> to know all myself in
\nthee to our atoms and widths and deeps,
\nMy all yearned to thy all to be held close, to the heart heart<\/span>
\nand to self self<\/span>,
\nAs a sea with a sea joins or limbs with limbs, and as waking’s<\/span>
\ndelight with sleep’s.<\/p>\n

When mind pinnacled is lost in thy Light-Vasts<\/span> and
\nthe man drowns in the god,
\nThy Truth shall ungirdle<\/span> its golden flames and thy
\ndiamond whiteness blaze;
\nMy souls lumined<\/span> shall discover their joy-self, they
\nshall clasp all in the near One,
\nAnd the sorrow of the heart shall turn to bliss and thy sweetness possess
\nearth’s days.<\/p>\n

Then shall Life be thy arms drawing thy own clasped to thy breast’s rapture or
\ncalm peace,
\nWith thy joy for the spirit’s immortal flame and thy peace for its deathless
\nbase.
\nOur eyes meeting the long love shut in deep eyes and our beings held fast and
\none,
\nI shall know that the game was well worth the toil (strife) whose end is thy
\ndivine embrace.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-592<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

Symbol Moon<\/a><\/font><\/b><\/span><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n


\n <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

Once again thou hast climbed,
\n0 moon, like a white fire on the glimmering edge,
\nFloating up, floating up from the haunted verge of a foam-tremulous sea,
\nMystic-horned here crossing the grey-hued listless nights and days,
\nSpirit-silver craft from the ports of eternity. <\/font> <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n


\nDumbly
\nblithe, shuddering, the air is filled from thy cup of pale mysterious wine:
\nGleam quivers to longing gleam; and the faery<\/span> torches
\nlit for Night’s
\nmysteries, set in her niches stark and deep;
\nThe inconscient<\/span> gulfs stir and are vaguely thrilled,
\nwhile their unheard voices
\ncry to the Wonder-light new-seen
\nTill descending its ray shall unlock with a wizard rod of fire the dumb
\nrecesses of sleep.<\/p>\n

Overhead with thy plunging and swaying prow thou fleetest, 0 ship of the gods,
\nGlorifying the clouds with thy halo, but our hearts with a rose-red rapture
\nshed from the secret breasts of love;
\nAlmost thou seemest<\/span> the very bliss that floats in opaline<\/span> air over heaven’s golden roads,
\nEmbodied here to capture our human lives like a nectar face of light in the
\ndoubtful blue above.<\/p>\n

Bright and alone in a white-foam-glinted delicate dim-blue ocean of sky,
\nEver thou runst<\/span> and thou floatest<\/span>
\nas a magic drifting bowl
\nFlung by the hand of a drunken god in the river of Time goes tossing by,
\n0 icon and chalice of spiritual light whose spots are like Nature’s shadow
\nstains on a white and immaculate soul.<\/p>\n

How like one frail and hunted thou com’st<\/span>, O white
\nmoon, lonely call from thy deep sky-covert heights,
\nA voyager carrying through the myriad-isled archipelago of the spear-pointed
\nquestioning stars
\nThe circle of the occult argent Yes of the Invisible to the dim query of the
\nyearning witness lights
\nThat burn in the dense vault of Matter’s waking mind – innumerable, solitary
\nand sparse.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nPage-593
\n<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

A
\ndisk of a greater Ray that shall come, a white-fire rapture and girdling rose
\nof love,<\/font><\/p>\n

\nTimelessly thou driftest<\/span>,
\n0 sliver boat that set out from the far Unknown,
\nMoon-crystal of silver or gold of some spirit joy spun by Time in his dense aeonic<\/span> groove,
\nA messenger and bearer of an unembodied<\/span> beauty and unseized<\/span> bliss
\nadvancing over our life’s wan sea-significant, bright and alone.<\/font><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n


\n <\/font><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n


\n
\nO pall of
\nblack Night<\/a><\/font><\/span><\/b><\/span>
\n<\/font>
\n<\/span>
\nO pall of black Night painted with still gold stars,
\nHang now thy folds, close, clinging against earth’s bars,
\nO dim Night!
\nThen slumber shall come swinging(parting) the unseen
\nGates, and to lands guarded by a screen
\nOf strange light
\nSet free my soul charioted in a swift dream,
\nFrom earth slipping into the unknown gleam,
\nThe Ray white.<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPagr – 594<\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n


\nA Strong Son of Lightning<\/font><\/b><\/span>
\n<\/font>
\n
\nA strong son of lightning came down to the earth
\nwith fire-feet of swiftness, splendid;
\nLight was born in a womb and thunder’s force filled a human frame.
\nThe calm speed of heaven, the sweet greatness, pure passion, winged power had
\ndescended;
\nAll the gods in a mortal body dwelt, bore a single name.<\/p>\n

A wide wave of movement stirred all the dim globe in each glad and dreaming
\nfold;
\nLife was cast into grandeur, ocean hands took the wheels of Time.
\nMan’s soul was again a bright charioteer of days hired by gods impetuous bold,
\nHurled by One on His storm-winged ways, a shaft aimed at heights sublime.<\/p>\n

The old tablets clanging fell, ancient slow Nature’s dead wall was rent
\nasunder,
\nGod renewed himself in a world of young beauty, thought and flame:
\nDivine voices spoke on men’s lips, the heart woke to white dawns of gleaming wonder,<\/p>\n

Air a robe of splendour<\/span>, breath a joy, life a godlike
\ngame.
\n<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

An Image<\/font><\/b> <\/font>
\n<\/a> <\/p>\n

 <\/font><\/p>\n

Rushing from Troy like a
\ncloud on the plains the Trofans<\/span> thundered,
\nJust as a storm comes thundering, thick with the dust of kingdoms,
\nEdged with the devious dance of the lightning, so all Troas
\nLoud with the roar of the chariots, loud with the vaunt and the war-cry,
\nRushed from Troywards<\/span> gleaming with spears and rolled
\non enormous.
\nJoyous as ever Paris led them glancing in armour<\/span>,
\nBrilliant with gold like a bridegroom, playing with death and the battle
\nEven as apart in his chamber he played with his beautiful Helen,
\nTouching her body rejoiced with a low and lyrical laughter,
\nSo he laughed as he smote his foemen. Round him the arrows,
\nRound him the spears of the Argives<\/span> sang like the
\nvoices of maidens
\nTrilling the anthem of bridal bliss, the chant hymeneal;
\nRound him the warriors fell like flowers strewn at a bridal
\nRed with the beauty of blood.<\/font><\/p>\n

\n
\n

\nPage-595<\/font><\/span> <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Thought the Paraclete     As some bright archangel in vision flies Plunged in dream-caught spirit immensities, Past the long green crests of the seas…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1450","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-05-collected-poems-volume-05","wpcat-32-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1450","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1450"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1450\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1450"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1450"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1450"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}