The House of the Titans and other Poems

Thus did the laughing king, the magic maker, Draw me into the wind-glittering wood By an enchantment of blown boughs and lights, And faint and myriad flickerings within The many-pillared palace of leaves. The air, A flying girl, flame-limbed, before me runs Sprinkling the dark with jewels. Eyes are dizzy With sudden color. O, the hyacinths! I fall on knees watching the laughing king Hide stars in wild blossoms. On moss I lie, My eyes arc shuttered but the earth is airy, Dense to the body, to the spirit most clear. O, it was so in the golden age. Men lived In the bright fire, in air, in earth. They knew Only the being of the laughing king And had no name for themselves. A night Of many million years breaks now to dawn. As the numbed limb quickening to life becomes Once more the body we knew, so the whole star Quickens within me. Why was the spirit numb In a little dust? I glow to the full orb. Upon its burnished uplands what shining dancers, With what unfallen beauty, what wild innocence Make visible the laughter of their king! By what fleet witchery of limb the inaudible Becomes music to the eye, joy in the heart! What secret lies behind the lovely light? What lovelier darkness, from which spirit-clear Voices call to me, "O, come home, come home!"