{"id":1466,"date":"2013-07-13T01:35:00","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:35:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=1466"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:35:00","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:35:00","slug":"03-songs-to-myrtilla-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\/03-songs-to-myrtilla-vol-05-collected-poems-volume-05","title":{"rendered":"-03_Songs to Myrtilla.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n\n\n
 <\/td>\n\n


\nSongs
\n to Myrtilla<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n


\n<\/font>                        G<\/span>LAUCUS<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sweet is the night, sweet and cool
\nAs to parched lips a running pool;
\nSweet when the flowers have fallen asleep
\nAnd only moonlit rivulets creep
\nLike glow-worms in the dim and whispering wood, <\/p>\n

To commune with the quiet heart and solitude.
\nWhen earth is full of whispers, when
\nNo daily voice is heard of men,
\nBut higher audience brings
\nThe footsteps of invisible things,
\nWhen o\u2019er the glimmering tree-tops bowed
\nThe night is leaning on a luminous cloud,
\nAnd always a melodious breeze
\nSings secret in the weird and charmed trees,
\nPleasant  <\/span>\u2019tis then heart-overawed
\nto lie
\nAlone with that clear moonlight and that listening sky.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                     
\n<\/span>\u00c6THON<\/span>
\nBut day is sweeter; morning bright
\nHas put the stars out ere the light,
\nAnd from their dewy cushions rise
\nSweet flowers half-opening their eyes.
\nO pleasant then to feel as if new-born
\nThe sweet, unripe and virgin air, the air of morn. <\/p>\n

And pleasant are her melodies,
\nRustle of winds, rustle of trees,
\nBirds\u2019 voices in the eaves,
\nBirds\u2019 voices in the green melodious leaves;
\nThe herdsman’s flute among his flocks,
\nSweet water hurrying from reluctant rocks,
\nAnd all sweet hours and all sweet showers
\nAnd all sweet sounds that please the noonday flowers.<\/p>\n

Morning
\n has pleasure, noon has golden peace
\nAnd afternoon repose and eve the heart’s increase.<\/p>\n

All things are subject to sweet pleasure, <\/p>\n

But three things keep her richest measure.<\/p>\n

\n
\nPage -1 <\/p>\n

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

\n
\n<\/div>\n

The breeze that visits heaven
\nAnd knows the planets seven,
\nThe green spring with its flowery truth
\nCreative and the luminous heart of youth.
\nTo all fair flowers and vernal
\nThe wind makes melody diurnal.
\nOn Ocean all night long
\nHe rests, a voice of song.
\nThe blue sea dances like a girl
\nWith sapphire and with pearl
\nCrowning her locks. Sunshine and dew
\nEach morn delicious life renew.
\nThe year is but a masque of flowers,
\nOf light and song and honied showers.
\nIn the soft springtide comes the bird
\nOf heaven whose speech is one sweet word,
\nOne word of sweet and magic power to bring<\/p>\n

 Green branches back and ruddy lights of
\nspring.<\/p>\n

 Summer has pleasant comrades, happy
\nmeetings <\/p>\n

Of lily and rose and from the trees divinest
\ngreetings.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

                              
\n <\/span>GLAUCUS<\/span><\/p>\n

For who in April shall remember,
\n The certain end of drear November?
\n No flowers then live, no flowers
\n Make sweet those wretched hours;
\n From dead or grieving branches spun <\/p>\n

                       
\n\t\tUnwilling leaves lapse
\n wearily one by one; <\/p>\n

The heart is then in pain
\nWith the unhappy sound of rain.
\nNo secret boughs prolong
\nA green retreat of song;
\nSummer is dead and rich repose
\nAnd springtide and the rose,
\nAnd woods and all sweet things make moan; <\/p>\n

The weeping earth is turned to stone.
\nThe lovers of her former face,
\nShapes of beauty, melody, grace,
\nWhere are they? Butterfly and bird
\nNo more are seen, no songs are heard.<\/p>\n

\nPage -2 <\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

They see her beauty spent, her splendours done; <\/p>\n

They seek a younger earth, a surer sun.
\nWhen youth has quenched its soft and magic light, <\/p>\n

Delightful things remain but dead is their
\ndelight.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

      
\n<\/span>\u00c6THON<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAh! for a little hour put by
\nDim Hades and his pageantry;
\nForget the future, leave the past,
\nThe little hour thy life shall last,
\nLearn rather from the violet’s days <\/p>\n

Soft-blooming in retired ways
\nOr dewy bell, the maid undrest
\nWith creamy childhood in her breast,
\nFierce foxglove and the briony
\nAnd sapphire thyme, the work-room of the bee. <\/p>\n

Behold in emerald fire
\nThe spotted lizard crawl
\nUpon the sun-kissed wall
\nAnd coil in tangled brake
\nThe green and sliding shake
\nUnder the red-rose-briar.
\nNay, hither see
\nLured by thy rose of lips the bee
\nTo woo thy petals open, 0 sweet,
\nHis flowery murmur here repeat,
\nForsaking all the joys of thyme.
\nStain not thy perfumed prime
\nWith care for autumn’s pale decay,
\nBut live like these thy sunny day.
\nSo when thy tender bloom must fall,
\nThen shalt thou be’ as one who tasted all <\/p>\n

Life’s honey and must now depart
\nA broken prodigal from pleasure’s mart,
\nA leaf with whom each golden sunbeam sinned,
\nA dewy leaf and kissed by every wandering wind.<\/p>\n

           GLAUCUS<\/span><\/p>\n

How various are thy children, earth!
\nBehold the rose her lovely birth,<\/p>\n

Page-<\/span>3
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

What fires from the bud proceed,
\nAs if the vernal air did bleed..
\nBreezes and sunbeams, bees and dews
\nHer lords and lovers she indues,
\nAnd these her crimson pleasures prove;
\nHer life is but a bath of love;
\nThe wide world perfumes when she sighs
\nAnd, burning all the winds, of love she dies.
\nThe lily liveth pure,
\nYet has she lovers, friends,
\nAnd each her bliss intends;
\nThe bees besides her treasure
\nBesiege of pollened pleasure,
\nNor long her gates endure.
\nThe snowdrop cold  
\nHas vowed the saintly state to hold
\nAnd far from green spring’s amorous guilds
\nHer snowy hermitage she builds.
\nCowslip attends her vernal duty
\nAnd stops the heart with beauty.
\nThe crocus asks no vernal thing,
\nBut all the lovely lights of spring
\nAre with rich honeysuckle boon
\nAnd praise her through one summer moon.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thus the sweet children of the earth
\nFulfil their natural selves and various birth.
\nFor one is proud and one sweet months approve <\/p>\n

Diana\u2019s saint, but most are bondmaidens of
\nLove.<\/p>\n

\nLove\u2019s feet were on the sea
\nWhen he dawned on me.
\nHis wings were purple-grained and slow; \n<\/p>\n

His voice was very sweet and very low; <\/p>\n

His rose-lit cheeks, his eyes\u2019 pale bloom <\/p>\n

Were sorrow\u2019s anteroom;
\nHis wings did cause melodious moan; <\/p>\n

His mouth was like a rose o\u2019erblown; <\/p>\n

The cypress-garland of renown
\nDid make his shadowy crown.<\/b>
\nFair as the spring he gave<\/p>\n

Page-4<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/span>\n<\/div>\n

And sadder than a winter\u2019s wave
\nAnd sweet as sunless asphodel,
\nMy shining lily, Florimel , <\/u><\/p>\n

My heart’s enhaloed moon,
\nMy winter’s warmth, my summer’s shady boon. <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

     <\/span>
\n<\/span><\/span>       
\n<\/span>\u00c6THON<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Not from the mighty sea
\nLove visited me.
\nI found as in a jewelled box
\nLove, rose-red, sleeping with imprisoned locks; <\/p>\n

And I have ever known him wild
\nAnd merry as a child,
\nAs roses red, as roses sweet,
\nThe west wind in his feet,
\nTulip-girdled, kind and bold,
\nWith heartsease in his curls of gold,
\nSince in the silver mist
\nBright Cymothea\u2019s lips I kissed,
\nWhose laughter dances like a gleam
\nOf sunlight on a hidden stream
\nThat through a wooded way
\nRuns suddenly into the perfect day.
\nBut what were Cymothea, placed
\nWhere like a silver star Myrtilla blooms? <\/p>\n

Such light as cressets cast
\nIn long and sun-lit rooms.<\/b>
\nThy presence is to her
\nAs oak to juniper,
\nThy beauty as the gorgeous rose
\nTo privet by the lane that blows, <\/p>\n

Gold-crowned blooms to mere fresh grass, <\/p>\n

Eternal ivy to brief blooms that pass.<\/b><\/p>\n

      <\/span>GLAUCUS<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But Florimel beside thee, sweet,
\nPales like a candle in the brilliant noon. <\/p>\n

Snowdrops are thy feet,
\nThy waist a crescent moon,
\nAnd like a silver wand<\/p>\n

Page-5<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

Thy body slight doth stand
\nOr like a silver beech aspire.
\nThine arms are walls for white caresses, <\/p>\n

Thy mouth a tale of crimson kisses, <\/p>\n

Thine eyes two amorous treasuries of fire.<\/p>\n

To what shall poet liken thee?
\nArt thou a goddess of the sea <\/p>\n

Purple-tressed and laughter-lipped <\/p>\n

From thy choric sisters slipped
\nTo wander on the flowery land?
\nOr art thou siren on the treacherous sand <\/p>\n

Summer-voiced to charm the ear
\nOf the wind-vext mariner?
\nAh! but what are these to thee, <\/p>\n

Brighter gem than knows the sea, <\/p>\n

Lovelier girl than sees the stream
\nNaked, Naiad of a dream;
\nWhiter Dryad than men see
\nDancing round the lone oak-tree, <\/p>\n

Flower and most enchanting birth <\/p>\n

Of ten ages of the earth!
\nThe Graces in thy body move <\/p>\n

And in thy lips the ruby hue of Love.<\/b><\/p>\n

\n                             
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

<\/span>
\n                        <\/span><\/p>\n

Page-6<\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n

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

  Songs to Myrtilla                         GLAUCUS   Sweet is the night, sweet and cool As to parched lips a running pool; Sweet when the flowers…<\/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-1466","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\/1466","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=1466"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1466\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1466"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1466"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1466"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}