Monday, 19 May 2008

Overheard on a Saltmarsh

Overheard on a Saltmarsh by Harold Monro


Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.

No.

Give them me. Give them me.

No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds,
Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, Why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads, I want them.

I will howl in a deep lagoon
For your green glass beads, I love them so.
Give them me. Give them me.

No
.

Lucifer


*

THE LADY OF THE LIGHT
(Written for Lucifer)
VOL 1. London, October 15th 1887, No2 from 'LUCIFER - A Theosophical Magazine edited by Madam Blavatsky and Mabel Collins

STar of the Day and the Night!
Star of the Dark that is dying;
Star of the Dawn that is nighing,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Still with the purest in white,
Still art thou Queen of Seven;
Thou hast not fallen from Heaven
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

How large in thy lustre, how bright
The beauty of promise thou wearest!
The message of Morning thou bearest,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Aid us in putting to flight
The Shadows that darken about us,
Illumine within, as without, us,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Shine through the thick of our fight;
Open the eyes of the sleeping;
Dry up the tears of the weeping,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Purge with thy pureness our sight,
Thou light of the lost ones who love us,
Thou lamp of the Leader above us,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

With the flame of thy radiance smite
The clouds that are veiling the vision
Of Woman's millennial mission,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Shine in the Depth and the Height,
And show us the treasures olden
Of wisdom, the hidden, the golden,
Lucifer, Lady of Light!

Gerald Massey
*

TO THE MORNING STAR
Vol 1, London, January 15th, 1888, No 5, Lucifer: A Theosophical Magazine edited by H. P. Blavatsky and Mabel Collins

Lucifer, Lucifer, Son of the Morning,
Trembling and fair on the opening skies,
Heralding, truly, a day that is dawning,
Telling the 'Light of the World' shall arise.

Lucifer, Lucifer, all through the Ages
Weary hearts struggled and watched for the light,
Now it is coming, and thou the forerunner,
Mystical prophet, the herald of Right.

There in the desert of Night where thou dwellest,
Round thee in myriads the feebler lights stand;
Lucifer, Lucifer, ever thou tallest
The glorious Kingdom of Right is at hand.

Rising and setting, O, Star of the Morning!
Strangely prophetic, thou atom of light;
Revealing in silence the law of creation.
Out from the unseen abyss of the night,

Into the world where the stars, sympathetic,
Seem to be fraught with a pulsating breath;
Brilliant, yet shining like tear-drops pathetic,
But sinking at last in oblivion of death!

Sinking, but wrapped in the shroud of the Morning,
Folded in splendour as light shall arise;
Lucifer, herald of Truth that is dawning,
Ride through thy glorious pathway, the skies!

Soon in the east, with a splendour triumphant,
Morning shall break like a great altar-fire,
Ignorance, darkness, and gross superstition,
Shall melt in its beams, and in silence expire!

Helen Fagg