Quo Vadis?

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume 1, Issue 8, 1 May 1900, Page 581

Quo Vadis?

He volunteers for service ; site (em pis

Nay — wilt thou go? — this little ring of mine That binds our souls — that mystic spirit link In life and death — -shall hold thee to my side A Merlin wrapt in mist. The flashing shall That wheels from out this glorious molting gem Answers the duller challenge of thy si eel ; Power unto beauty — beauty unto power. Who wins? — canst ask? — dost thou not love the si-one, The changing humours as the landscape shifts Its light and shade — the curtain'd crimson sleeve Wrapping the sun that sinks in blood-red mists, All forms of art — the shafts of wheeling light That turning, vainly seek to pierce the cloud We call the soul — the low dying wail Tearing the spirit from the painted wood ; The mad, wild whirling cry as shrieking leaps . The spirit from the master's bow — the line That moves the heart — the joys of Bayreuth where The crashing Wagner chorus holds the night, This hand of thiue that feebly clutches at The hilt — the symbol of a trade so far Removed from thee — lo ! I have heard it pluck The soul from out the mellow wood, and (ling It quivering to the answering stars — wilt thou Leave these for senseless acts ? Wilt thou depart And mingle thy sweet dust with that of fools, Who scorn the high, divine, and holy things We love, and love the things we needs must scorn Behold — I love thee — Heaven and Earth have not The measure of my love — nor distant worlds That spin their awful years — and watch — unseen. Come ! Let our love-lined dwelling be apart — The peaceful centre of a circling storm— The cries o£ things we garnish with the name That thou alone shouldst bear — the name .of man.

He answers : Nay — wrong me not —for though 'tis true I dream A mystic life away — unknown to act That makes the man —yet higher far I hold Those "brainless fools " — whose wills relentless strong Stem the strong flood that sweeps a flotsam will Like mine away— than we, thy hallowed saints, Yet cursed by curse of thought divorced from act Well do I know the power of mind, and how Strong thought and act in one clean-welded whole Must make the perfect man — yet higher far Is he whose mmd — not subtle — no — nor deep, Has yet the power to push his keener will Home to the farthest limit of success — Thau he who glides through purple lotos-life Shrinking from deed. And true it is I love the ocean sound Of Bayreuth's song — but nobler far they hold The quick " crescendo " as the line swings home, Then leap.-* the blood to flame, and manhood s fire Sweeps like a blast across the duller earth. And sweeter far the sharp staccato song As sword bites sword— or shriller treble when The ribboned sabre wreathes the smoking head Of some huge Titan form — indeed I love Thee — know it well — but think I rather choose To end a useless life as honour bids, and go To death through one short hour of life divine. And now farewell — in life — in death Farewell ! The empire-spirit calls me and I go. A. E. Mulga-N