An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry/Dithyramb of the Worlds

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The shimmering birth and the quenching
Of a million suns
'Mid the darkness of centuries flaking
In long and in speedy flashes,
Like to the lights that are mirrored
On the blade of a grafter's knife,
At every feverish move of the hand
Of the master.

Worlds that are following one on the other amid the mystery of time,
The mighty spring-tides of tropics eternal!
Carpet of mystical stairs!
Youth-bringing pulsings of blood!
Returning afresh and afresh,
Ever more spirit-like raging,
Whirlwind of passions!

Wingèd seeds that fly for a thousand years,
Budding and girt round by fire!
Bliss of the half-closed hand, scattering seed!
Sprinkling of glowing grain across the abyss of the cosmos,
The milky ways!

The azure of numberless earths, glinting like spring-tide forget-me-nots
On the shores of a river ecstatic,
That flies in the outstretched embrace
Of thine ocean!
A simmering seething from arctic heights,
The shattered ice with itself transporting,
The crystalline fleet
Of worlds that are dead!
Gull—streams of love!

The Word's sacred harvests!
From the fountain of all the grain
A current of corn-ears!
O'er every place where it fell,
Even within the remotest,
A thousand Julys in the fire!

Spirit-like worlds!
Gardens that float, all a-frenzy with birds,
Dream-ridden earths!
Growths that are sparkling with roses aglow,

Jutting from quickening suns!
Worlds that are kindling,
Worlds that are quenching
Whirlpools of justice!

And all the suns
Round the eternal sun are revolving,
Ne'er to be seen,
The glittering, tarrying grave,
The mystery of the new cosmos
In silence!

On lips that with love are aquiver,
As in a wind that is fragrant,
Mighty and quickening,
Over the oceans
Your song is resounding, O mistress,
Unto the new-born.

Slumber-song of the millions,
Thro' all the universe quivering,
Amid whose rhythmical cadence
Worlds in their sorrow are swaying,
Cradles of spirits.


"The Hands".