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Ranolf and Amohia

XIII

XIII.

"But see! how through the floating, thin,
And tender purple gloom, one star
Is wildly throbbing—faint and far!
And lost in liquid twilight, look,
page 349 Where others lurk its depths within!—
Come, dearest, then! in yonder nook
See how, from its sun-smitten slopes
The snowy-crimson trees outthrow
Their sturdy stems that downward grow,
All firmly laced, securely braced
And cabled to the rocks with ropes
Of their own branches, backward bent
Along each coalescing trunk,
Half in its rugged column sunk
As up to roots again they run,
Stem, branch, and root, distinct yet one!
As if they saw and would prevent,
With conscious aim intelligent,
The great tree's risk so imminent
Of slipping down the steep descent.
But does the risk produce the aim?—
On level ground no cables sprout:
Or if in some rare case thrown out—
Perchance where casual winds create
A partial risk, but not the same—
The listless cable seems to fall
Unreaching earth; its would-be roots,
A tuft of red abortive shoots.
Adaptive Nature's powers are great;
And her organic products mate
And match each shifting change and chance
Of inorganic Circumstance;
Set each to each in ordered dance,
With a discriminating might
Of blindness keener than all sight;
And kindling here, and quenching there
At random—but with luck so rare
page 350 And mutual, ever full and fair
The cycle of Existence leave.
The trees that could their cable weave
Might stand—and those that could not—fall;
I wonder what the cause they call,
Gave this and not some other tree
That cunning first propensity
For veering cables out at all!
No matter, sweet, since there at last,
The pendent trees are anchored fast.
Suppose a fern-filled mat we sling
To one, up high, of those that fling
Their branches out most straight and stout;
So fine the night we need devise
No roof against those loving skies!
How pleasant there to lie awake
And try if any glimmering sheen
Or shimmer of the sleeping Lake
So far beneath—through all the green,
The latticed screen of boughs between.
A leafy labyrinth—could be seen!
How sweet to He up there so high,
And half asleep, so drowsily,
To all the faint night-noises hart
That make the hush more deep; and mark,
Watching the dim o'erbrooding sky,
How one by one and two by two
The moving stars come blinking through
The unmoving leaves—chink after chink—
Slow-pacing!—or if you should sleep
I might alone a vigil keep
Sometimes for mere delight; and think
What mighty Suns we use to link
page 351 Our tiny memories with; and how
Keen Sirius and red-flashing fierce
Aldebaran that deep Space may pierce.
And have no other end just now
For me, but with familiar rays
To call back far-off scenes and days:
How the faint Pleiads are less clear
Than fond regards they bring so dear!
And old Orion upside down,
Mythic Bœotian huntsman brown
Though here such different names he own,
Shines grand as his antique renown;
And flings abroad his giant limbs
In daring splendour nothing dims!
Although head foremost towards the sea
In all his glittering panoply
He plunges, eager to return
To those dear glorious lands below,
Far down below, where long ago
I first beheld his ardours burn!—
And we will settle, nestling there
Which way to-morrow we shall fare;
If back to strange Orákei's stream
Whose dark-green banks are chequered bright
With many a gaudy scar and seam
Sulphureous yellow—red and white,
Where over crusted strata grey
A hundred hot-springs steam and play
Or shall we to the Lake hard by
Of woody Oka-réka hie,
That mocks you with deceitful mien,
By loving cliffs encompassed round—
Fair captive, so resigned, serene,
page 352 Lulled in a seeming sleep profound;
Yet all the while slips off unseen
In secret diving underground;
And bursts out into open day
A beautiful Cascade, they say,
All flash and foam, a mile away!
A sudden startling change, complete
From mimic death to leaping life,
As yours, my wily, winsome cheat,
This mom when starting to your feet
At touch of that rude ready knife!"

What answer? but a laugh of fond assent
From her whose head upon his shoulder leant;
As, gaily springing up, the Maid addrest
Herself to that delightful task—to aid
In building birdlike such a pendulous nest
Mid twisted stems over the waters thrown,
As charmed with thoughts of airy rest
Lightly leaf-canopied and star-inrayed;
Toyed with by tender touches of the Moon;
Bare to each influence of the fine-flecked skies;
And yet secure as ever flung the boon
Of sweet unconsciousness o'er lovers' eyes—
Yet in secluded luxury uplaid
As ever rest enjoyed by lovers lone
In any green serenity of shade.