346. Preface to ‘Fate in Arcadia’

HERE kneels my word, that may not say

Even to the inward ear of night

More than the laughter of the day

Or the soft weeping of twilight.

No waking hours, no sleep shall find

The world’s continual dream revealed.

The Living Word is silent mind,

And every book is closed and sealed.

Our Mother Earth for daily things

Has given the daily mother-tongue;

But the mute wonder that she brings,

All lips have kissed; no voice has sung.

And even now the usual word

Spread like an empty couch and cold

Measures the sound our fathers heard,

But holds no more the hint untold.

For He is risen whom we seek:

The linen clothes without the form

Are folded, lest too clear they speak

The Divine Body, buried warm.

Then every song is free from blame,

Though silence veil her inmost part

Like the dark centre of the flame,

Or the hot patience of the heart.