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{The Book of Orm 1870} INSCRIPTION.
_____ TO F. W. C.
FLOWERS pluckt upon a grave by moonlight, pale
And suffering, from the spiritual light
They grew in: these, with all the love and blessing
That prayers can gain of God, I send to thee! If one of these poor flowers be worthy thee,
The sweetest Soul that I have known on earth,
The tenderest Soul that I can hope to know,
Hold that one flower, and kneel, and pray for me. Pray for me, Comrade! Close to thee I creep,
Touching thy raiment: they good eyes are calm;
But see! the fitful fever in mine eyes—
Pray for me!—bid all good men pray for me! If Love will serve, lo! how I love my Friend—
If Reverence, lo! how I reverence him—
If Faith be asked in something beautiful,
Lo! what a splendour is my faith in him! Now, as thou risest gently from thy knees,
Must we go different ways?—thou followest
Thy path, I mine;—but all go westering,
And all will meet among the Hills of God! Thy face sails with me on a darker path,
And smiles me onward! For a time, farewell;
Wear in thy breast a few of these poor flowers,
And let their scent remind my Friend of me! Flowers of a grave,—yet deathless! Be my love
For thee as deathless! I am beckon’d on;—
But meantime, these, with all the love and blessing
That prayers can gain of God, I give to thee! ROBERT BUCHANAN. Coruisk, 1870.
[Notes:
Alterations in the 1884 edition of ‘The Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan’:
Only the first stanza of the Inscription (To F. W. C.) is included in the Chatto & Windus 1884 edition of ‘The Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan’.
I have been unable to ascertain the identity of F. W. C.] Pg. 1 THE BOOK OF ORM. __________ 1.
2.
Till the soil—bid cities rise—
Be strong, O Celt—be rich, be wise—
But still, with those divine grave eyes,
Respect the realm of Mysteries.
[Notes:
Alterations in the 1884 edition of ‘The Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan’:
This introductory verse is omitted and replaced by the following: PROEM. (TO BOOK OF ORM AND POLITICAL MYSTICS.)
WHEN in these songs I name the Name of God,
I mean not Him who ruled with brazen rod
The rulers of the Jew; nor Him who calm
Sat reigning on Olympus; nay, nor Brahm,
Osiris, Allah, Odin, Balder, Thor,
(Though these I honour, with a hundred more);
Menu I mean not, nor the Man Divine,
The pallid Rainbow lighting Palestine;
Nor any lesser of the gods which Man
Hath conjured out of Night since Time began.
I mean the primal Mystery and Light,
The most Unfathomable, Infinite,
The Higher Law, Impersonal, Supreme,
The Life in Life, the Dream within the Dream,
The Fountain which in silent melody
Feeds the dumb waters of Eternity,
The Source whence every god hath flown and flows,
And whither each departs to find repose. ]
3 THE BOOK OF THE VISIONS SEEN BY ORM THE CELT.
THERE is a mortal, and his name is Orm,
Born in the evening of the world, and looking
Back from the sunset to the gates of morning. And he is aged early, in a time
When all are aged early,—he was born
In twilight times, and in his soul is twilight. O brother, hold me by the hand, and hearken,
For these things I shall phrase are thine and mine,
And all men's,—all are seeking for a sign. Thou wert born yesterday, but thou art old,
Weary to-day, to-morrow thou wilt sleep—
Take these for kisses on thy closing eyelids.
5 I. FIRST SONG OF THE VEIL.
7 I. FIRST SONG OF THE VEIL. I. THE VEIL WOVEN.
IN the beginning,
Ere Man grew,
The Veil was woven
Bright and blue;
Soft mists and vapours
Gather’d and mingled
Over the black world
Stretched below,
While winds of heaven
Blew from all places,
Shining luminous,
A starry snow.
Blindly, dumbly,
Darken’d under 8
Ocean and river,
Mountain and dale,
While over his features,
Wondrous, terrible,
The beautiful Master
Drew the Veil:
Then starry, luminous,
Rolled the Veil of azure
O’er the first dwellings
Of mortal race;
—And since the beginning
No mortal vision,
Pure or sinning,
Hath seen the Face! Yet mark me closely!
Strongly I swear,
Seen or seen not,
The Face is there: [2:4]
When the Veil is clearest 9
And sunniest,
Closest and nearest
The Face is prest;
But when, grown weary
With long downlooking,
The Face withdrawing
For a time is gone,
The great Veil darkens,
And ye see full clearly
Glittering numberless
The gems thereon.
For the lamp of his features
Divinely burning,
Shines, and suffuses
The Veil with light,
And the Face, drawn backward
With that deep sighing
Ye hear in the gloaming,
Leaves ye the Night. [2:24] Thus it befell to men 10
Graveward they journeyed,
From waking to sleeping,
In doubt and in fear,
Evermore hoping,
Evermore seeking,
Nevermore guessing
The Master so near:
Making strange idols,
Rearing fair Temples,
Crying, denying,
Questioning, dreaming,
Nevermore certain
Of God and his grace,— [3:14]
Evermore craving [3:15]
To look on a token,
To gaze on the Face. [3:17] Now an evangel, [4:1]
Whom God loved deep,
Said, “See! the mortals, 11
How they weep!
They grope in darkness,
They blunder onward
From race to race,
Were it not better,
Once and for ever,
To unveil the Face?”
God smiled.
He said—“Not yet! [4:12]
Much is to remember,
Much to forget;
Be thou of comfort!
How should the token
Silence their wail?” And, with eyes tear-clouded,
He gazed thro’ the luminous, [5:2]
Star-inwrought, beautiful,
Folds of the Veil.
12 II. EARTH THE MOTHER.
Beautiful, beautiful, she lay below, [1:1]
The mighty Mother of humanity,
Turning her sightless eyeballs to the glow
Of light she could not see,
Feeling the happy warmth, and breathing slow
As if her thoughts were shining tranquilly.
Beautiful, beautiful the Mother lay,
Crownëd with silver spray,
The greenness gathering hushfully around
The peace of her great heart, while on her breast
The wayward Waters, with a weeping sound,
Were sobbing into rest.
For all day long her face shone merrily,
And at its smile the waves leapt mad and free:
But at the darkening of the Veil, she drew
The wild things to herself, and husht their cries— [1:16]
Then, stiller, dumber, search’d the deepening blue 13 [1:17]
With passionate blind eyes;
And went the old life over in her thought,
Dreamily praying as her memory wrought
The dimly guessed at, never utter’d tale,
While, over her dreaming,
Deepen’d the luminous,
Star-inwrought, beautiful,
Folds of the wondrous Veil. For more than any of her children of clay
The beautiful Mother knows—
She is so old!
Ye would go wild to hearken, if this day
Her dumb lips should unclose,
And the tale be told:
Such unfathomable things,
Such mystic vanishings,
She knoweth about God—she is so old. For oft, in the beginning, long ago, 14
Without a Veil looked down the Face ye know,
And Earth, an infant happy-eyed and bright,
Look’d smiling up, and gladden’d in its sight.
But later, when the Man-Flower from her womb
Burst into brightening bloom,
In her glad eyes a golden dust was blown
Out of the void, and she was blind as stone. [3:8] And since that day
She hath not seen, nor spoken,—lest her say
Should be a sorrow and fear to mortal race,
And doth not know the Lord hath hid away,
But turneth up blind orbs—to feel the Face.
15 III. CHILDREN OF EARTH.
So dumbly, blindly, [1:1]
So cheerly, sweetly,
The beautiful Mother
Of mortals smiled;
Her children marvell’d
And looked upon her—
Her patient features
Were bright and mild;
And on her eyeballs
Night and day,
A sweet light glimmer’d
From far away.
Her children gather’d
With sobs and cries,
To see the sweetness
Of sightless eyes;
But tho’ she held them 16 [1:17]
So dear, so dear,
She could not answer,
She could not hear.
She felt them flutter
Around her knee,
She felt their weeping,
Yet knew not wherefore—
She could not see.
“O Mother! Mother
Of mortal race!
Is there a Father?
Is there a Face?”
She felt their sorrow
Against her cheek,—
She could not hearken,
She could not speak;
With thin lips fluttering,
With blind eyes tearful,
And features pale,
She clasp’d her children, 17
And looked in silence
Upon the Veil. Her hair grew silvern,
The swift days fled,
Her lap was heavy
With children dead;
To her heart she held them,
But could not warm them—
The life within them
Was gone like dew.
Whiter, stiller,
The Mother grew. The World grew hoary,
The World was weary,
The children cried at
The empty air:
“Father of mortals!”
The children murmured, 18
“Father! father! [3:7]
Art thou there?” [3:8]
Then the Master answer’d
From the thunder-cloud:
“I am God the Maker!
I am God the Master!
I am God the Father!”
He cried aloud.
Further, the Master
Made sign on sign—
Footprints of his spirits,
Voices divine;
His breath was a water,
His cry was a wind. But the people heard not,
The people saw not,—
Earth and her children
Were deaf and blind.
19 IV. THE WISE MEN.
“Call the great philosophers!
Call them all hither,—
The good, the wise!”
Their robes were snowy,
Their hearts were holy,
They had cold still eyes.
To the mountain-summits
Wearily they wander’d,
Reaching the desolate
Regions of snow,
Looming there lonely,
They search’d the Veil wonderful [1:12]
With tubes fire-fashion’d
In caverns below . . .
God withdrew backward,
And darker, dimmer, 20
Deepen’d the day:
O’er the philosophers
Looming there lonely
Night gather’d gray.
Then the wise men gazing
Saw the lights above them
Thicken and thicken,
And all went pale—
Ah! the lamps numberless,
The mystical jewels of God,
The luminous, wonderful,
Beautiful Lights of the Veil! [1:28] Alas for the Wise Men!
The snows of the mountain
Drifted about them,
And the wind cried round them,
As the lights of wonder
Multiplied!
The breath of the mountain 21
Froze them into stillness,—
They sighed and died.
Still in the desolate
Heights overhead,
Stand their shapes frozen,
Frozen and dead.
But a weary few,
Weary and dull and cold,
Crept faintly down again,
Looking very old;
And when the people
Gather’d around them,
The heart went sickly
At their dull blank stare—
“O Wise Men answer!
Is there a Father?
Is there a beautiful
Face up there?”
The Wise Men answer’d and said:
“Bury us deep when dead— 22
We have travelled a weary road,
We have seen no more than ye.
’Twere better not to be—
There is no God!” And the people, hearkening,
Saw the Veil above them,
And the darkness deepen’d,
And the lights gleamed pale. [3:4]
Ah! the lamps numberless,
The mystical jewels of God,
The luminous, wonderful,
Beautiful lights of the Veil! [3:8]
[Notes:
Alterations in the 1884 edition of ‘The Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan’:
Part I:
v. 2, l. 4: The Face is there!
v. 2, l. 24: Leaveth the Night.
v. 3, l. 14: Of God and His grace,—
v. 3, l. 15: Evermore craving,
v. 3, l. 17: To gaze on a Face.
v. 4, l. 1: Now an Evangel,
v. 4, l. 12: [stanza break inserted after line 11] He said—‘Not yet?
v. 5, l. 2: He gazed through the luminous,
Part II:
v. 1, l. 1: BEAUTIFUL, beautiful, she lay below,
v. 1, l. 16: The wild things to herself, and husht their cries.
v. 1, l. 17: Then, stiller, dumber, search’d the deepening Blue
v. 3, l. 8: Out of the Void, and she was blind as stone.
Part III:
v. 1, l. 1: SO dumbly, blindly,
v. 1, l. 17: But though she held them
v. 3, l. 7: “Father! Father!
v. 3, l. 8: Art Thou there?”
Part IV:
v. 1, l. 12: They searched the Veil wonderful
v. 1, l. 28: Beautiful lights of the Veil!
v. 3, l. 4: And the Lights gleamed pale.
v. 3, l. 8: Beautiful Lights of the Veil!] ______________________________ The Book of Orm continued _____ The Book of Orm Contents |
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