A Lady to Her Lord
A Sonnet Sequence
By S. M. Hillis
Author's Dedication
In loving memory of Daniel Paul Buchanan, who departed this life on July 13, 2002.
"So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee."--William Shakespeare
Introduction
These poems may be read individually, but they function best when read as a whole. They were composed over two months in 2004, except for the first two, which were composed in 2001, and which, thank God, I was able to show to my beloved before the shadow of his death had fallen upon us. While they may seem out of place when compared to the rest of the poems, I decided to include them as they provide the background to what comes after. They are about love, loss and hope. I leave them as a monument to love and to the unsearchable depths of the human heart.
I.
Long time ago I left the lays of love.
The harp that once did ring was mute and still.
Where once there was a voice that hearts could move,
Was now a silence, like the winter's chill.
The muse that once inspired me to song
Was gone, and I was left alone to brood;
And so I lived within my castle strong,
Enclosed within a tower of solitude.
But now, behold! I take the harp again;
With faltering fingers I begin to play.
My voice, though hoarse, does rise above the paine,
To sing of love a new and better lay!
I hope to please the one for whom I sing
As it is he who makes my song take wing.
II.
As on a sylvan stream the sunlight plays,
And turns the sand beneath a tauny gold,
And summer leaves do seem like Fall to blaze
Reflected there from oaks and alders old;
So do thy words play over mine and draw
The golden sheen from out the darkest part--
The inmost depth of self--thy voice doth thaw
The ice-bound river of my yearning heart.
Thou art the sun, and I the woodland rill.
Thine alchemy, it is a potent thing.
For from base lead, the metal called most ill,
The burnished gold of goodness thou dost bring.
Thy love inspireth me to leap and soar,
And ever strive to make of myself more.
III.
Two waters met and mingled in a foam,
Two rivers swelled with scented summer rain.
And there, my love, is now thy final home,
Where now thy blessed ashes long have lain.
No fitter place could e'er I find to leave
The last few tokens of thine earthly frame
Than this, for though I now do grieve,
The rivers joined will ever sing thy name.
So now with lifted voice and loosened tongue,
I'll join the chorus of the leaping streams,
And sing of times when our old love was young,
Beyond the bounds of my mere mortal dreams.
So let the foam flow on for evermore,
And let us meet upon another shore.
IV.
In woven woods of living, sun-laced green
We meet and mingle now in silent song.
This forest tall is not by mortals seen,
For it was ancient when the world was young.
So now you clasp my hand in yours and I
Can feel the life within your body beat,
And in that touch I know love cannot die
And that it's here that our two spirits meet.
You clasp me close within your warmth and light,
And I respond in kind and draw you in,
And soon, though we are spirits burning bright,
The dance of flesh and blood we do begin.
And when at last we part, my spirit sings
And soars on high as if on eagle's wings!
V.
I hear the hammer ring upon the steel
In hidden halls beyond all mortal time,
And in it's steady beating do I feel
The ancient power of thy craft sublime.
I come within the smoke of primal flame
And only hear the hammer's ancient voice,
And know the hands that wield it are the same
Which cause the soul within me to rejoice.
The fire leaps and roars in fury chained,
And so I stand in silence and am bound
Within the spell of power unrestrained,
Entwined in mysteries of fire and sound.
I come within the smith's enchanted shrine
And know its ageless master to be mine.
VI.
The body slumbers and the soul flies far
Abroad upon the rapid winds of dream,
And in the realms beyond the dimmest star,
Two souls do meet in love's bright golden beam.
There in a timeless joy our spirits dwell
And mingle in a dance of deep delight,
And more complete than mortal tongue can tell
Am I in you, if only for this night.
You come to me I know not whence or how,
And draw me close, suffusing me in love.
In this communion is our sacred vow
Renewed, from which my heart will never move.
Upon sweet vision's tide my spirit soars,
Aspiring again to meet with yours.
VII.
My love for thee lives still within my breast
And flourishes as rose upon the vine,
And thou, my love, art still a welcome guest,
Because thy soul is ever bound to mine.
In mystic meeting silently we dance,
And yet our spirits speak of things sublime;
And deep within the drifting dream of trance,
To ecstasies untold we coupled climb.
So come whene'er thou wilt, my dearest one,
And I will not deny thy spirit bright.
Although our love upon this earth be done,
We two are joined in pure, celestial light.
Beyond the world thy soul now rangeth free,
And yet, thou dwellest timelessly with me.
VIII.
Beyond all names, beyond all sacred things,
Beyond the far-flung vanity of man,
Beyond the wealth of countesses or kings
Art thou to me, for since the world began,
Our love hath shone more bright than any sun,
And, age to age, the stars have set its course.
Held fast within love's mystery as one,
Together we are stronger than the force
Of death, that raging beast which would devour
All things of mortal beauty, bright and fair,
Both lofty tree and brightly blooming flower,
And even man, whose end is his despair.
Our love was old before man's life was new,
And shall exist long after man is through.
IX.
The smith and poet keep good company,
For both are makers, conduits of power.
The smith presides o'er earth's strange progeny--
O'er metal, and he causes it to flower.
The poet too is smith of word and rhyme,
As dreams untold are woven into sound,
And forged are tales which last throughout all time,
And resonate beyond earth's farthest bound.
The smith was first to take a fallen star
And make it his, to shape its sacred heart.
The poet too first heard from faint and far
The strains of sacred song and secret art.
Thy craft is sacred, love, and so is mine.
We two are priest and priestess of one shrine.
X.
IN spirit unfacaded now by flesh
And bone, unclad and naked in the light
Of truest truth, our essences do mesh,
Comingled now in high, ecstatic flight.
IN lofty spheres untrodden and unguessed
By mortal thought within its walls confined,
In regions vast, unknown and unexpressed
By mortal heart, we travel now combined.
The stars we touch! The ether is our home.
We rest amid the flowering fields of sky.
Beyond the day and night we freely roam.
Unfettered by mortality we fly!
Till once again we meet as humans must,
this bond which has no sundering I trust.
XI.
The fleeting glory of departing day--
The sinking of the sun in crimson fire
Gives way to golden gleam infused with grey,
As does my heart give way to deep desire.
Beyond the ashes of the day's demise,
I know thou waitest in eternal gleam,
and in the fading flame of twilit skies
I seek to meet thee in the depths of dream.
So as the sun descends my heart flies west
To find thee far away in deepest blue,
And there thou greetest me as welcome guest
And by thy love my soul thou dost renew.
When gold doth turn to embers glowing bright,
To thee I fly beyond the day and night.
XII.
When sea-dreams come, to them my soul must hark
And sail afar upon the song of foam.
It soon must speed like arrow to the mark
Unto the shore which is its truest home;
And there upon that shining shore afar
Where flowers brightly bloom and never fade,
Compeled by deepest need my footsteps are
To find the one for whom my soul was made.
Upon a spiral pathway do I climb
Until I reach a ring of ancient stone,
And there in sacred magesty sublime,
My love awaits me, silent and alone.
Although we share a fleeting moment's kiss,
We ever dwell within a timeless bliss.
XIII.
Come silently! Come softly! Come to me,
And I will show thee all the love I bear
Within my heart, and ever honour thee
Above all dreams, above all visions fair!
Come secretly! Come sweetly! Come and live
Within my soul, thy consecrated shrine,
And I will offer thee what I can give
And claim thee for my own as I am thine.
Come sighingly! Come flying! Mount on wings
Of purest love. Speed now toward the light
Which burns in me and ever closer brings
Thy welcome presence tender as the night.
Come silently! Come softly! Come to me,
And in thy temple ever honoured be!
XIV.
The harp of love thrills only to thy touch.
No other hand than thine can make her sing.
Without thy skill, without thy wit, so much
Unused, she would become a tarnished thing.
What hand but thine could cause her so to sigh
In gentle sound, in music clear and sweet?
What hand but thine could to her song reply
With fingertips so supple and so fleet?
'Tis only thou who art her master true,
For thou didst make this harp so fair and wild,
And thou alone canst tame her. Thou canst woo
From her a siren's song surpassing mild.
Thou art a bard of love's great mystery,
And in thy hands her harp will ever be.
XV.
From out the misty east, while still the world
Doth slumber deep, the sun's fair orb doth rise
To burn away the dew that is impearled
Upon the rose, and so the darkness dies.
So when my soul is shrouded in despair
And veiled in dark eclipse, I then do see
A light more bright than that of Phoebus fair
As thou, my love, dost lay thy hand on me.
In that fair touch, and in that fairest beam,
I know the whole entire truth of thee,
And when we meet within that golden gleam,
Thou seeest, touchest, knowest all of me.
My soul may mired deep in darkness stray,
But always after night doth shine the day.
XVI.
Thou art a jewel, the fairest beyond fair,
And in my secret treasury dost lie,
And in this vault is nothing half so rare
As is thy love, which holy is and high.
Thy worth beyond the costliness of gold,
Thy value far beyond the fairest stone,
thy purity and flawlessness untold,
Unequaled thou dost stand, unmatched by none.
And so I keep thee close within my heart,
And burnished bright, thy beauty will not fade,
For though in body we must be apart,
Our souls are bound within a Gordean braid.
So in my treasury I hold thee fast
And know our love will endings all outlast.
XVII.
How is it now that I can write of thee
In such fine form and in such phrases fair?
How is it, when the earthly flesh of me
Doth miss thine own, I can my love declare?
Why mute, or nearly mute, was all mine art,
When thou and I did share this mortal plain?
Why now do I lay bear mine inmost heart
To thee, when most would think such songs were vain?
I do not know, and yet the freshet flows
Of words no longer dammed inside my breast,
And as I write, my admiration grows
For thee, my brightest star, beloved best.
I must our love in lofty numbers trace
That all might know its fair and flowering grace.
XVIII.
How sweet it is to love, though love be lost
Beyond the farthest sight of mortal eye!
How worth the highest, unrelenting cost
To know a love which will not fade nor die.
Though flesh be torn from flesh by death's command,
And life from life as petal from the rose,
Yet still conjoined, the lovers, hand in hand
Are safe in love's great mystery enclosed.
So I must not regret what had to be,
Nor wander ever lost in dark despair,
Because I know thou art a part of me,
And timelessly love's holy bond we share.
Though death be thine, and life be mine to live,
My love to thee will I as ever give.
XIX.
Come now, my love, and linger by my side!
Impart to me some visionary gleam
Of that fair place in which thou dost abide!
Oh come to me, if only in a dream!
What did thine eyes so distantly espy,
All in that final moment of release?
Did they perchance look on unclouded sky
All golden with the light of painless peace?
I yearn, my love, to rise and be with thee,
To touch that paradise where thou dost dwell.
I would no longer sundered from thee be,
For thou couldst make a heaven of this hell.
So come, I bid thee! come and lift me high
Unto the azure gold of sun-washed sky!
XX.
Where Eros and Agape make their tryst
All in a place of green and purest gold,
'Tis there, though lovers part, love's never missed,
And there the timeless tale of love is told.
Where sacred joys and secret passions meet,
There is the truth of love revealed and shown
To those who will but hear her song so sweet
Upon the airy tides of freedom blown.
For love cannot be love if bound or chained
By slavery's cruel tyranny. It must
Be free, its golden beauty never stained,
Or all its fleeting glory falls to dust.
So let love's song be heard throughout all time,
And let it sing within this humble rhyme.
XXI.
With laurel leaves still green upon my brow,
Unwithered, barely plucked from off the vine,
I sit and sing, as bird upon a bough,
This solitary evensong of mine.
That I should be so young and so untried,
And yet be set to sing love's clearest call
So deep, so strong it cannot be denied,
Is something not for my young hands at all.
And yet my muse doth coax with patient care
These numbers from this novice poet's brain,
Because the thing I write of is so fair
That by it I may brighter laurels gaine.
So while my muse doth bid me, I shall lift
My voice in song, and discipline this gift.
XXII.
How often have I sought to search and sound
The depths of love's unfathomable sea,
And travel far beyond the farthest bound
Of death's inexorable mystery?
IN tapestries of rhythm and of rhyme,
With warp and whoof of word enmeshed with word,
I weave a tale of love beyond all time
In silver threads of song till now unheard.
I plumb the deeps and still I cannot find
The inmost centre of this ocean vast,
for thou dost fill my heart and soul and mind,
And hold me in the spell our love doth cast.
The webs I weave are fashioned to adorn
Love's temple walls, by time's teeth never torn.
XXIII.
Where earth and sky do meet beyond the west,
All in the afterglow of setting sun
A gleaming golden door to peace and rest
Doth beckon souls when mortal life is done.
Elusive is that shining golden gate
Unto all those who seek too fervently
As living men to run the seeming straight
And narrow road. What seemeth close will flee.
Yet looking with an inward spirit's eye
To find afar a long-remembered face,
One may a fleeting glimpse of glory spy
And know the splendour of unfading grace.
I know, my love, thou dwellest there afar
And shinest now more bright than any star.
XXIV.
When in the silent watches of the night
I waken from a vision bright of thee,
I still descry the faintest golden light
Behind mine eyes, so beautiful to see.
Upon my lips so lately touching thine,
I taste the sweet enchantment of a kiss,
And for one moment do I lie supine,
Enfolded still in dreamy, drowsy bliss.
I hold this waking moment in my heart
And keep it there for other wakings drear,
When in my breast the pain of loss doth smart,
And wen thy presence seemeth not so near.
If dreams are all I have, then let me sleep
And never more a tearful vigil keep.
XXV.
As from the flower fair doth sip the bee
And with sweet nectar fill the honeycomb,
So too do I, my love, sip love from thee
To fill my hollow heart when thou dost come.
If only in a dream or vision fair,
We meet and, touching, mingle soul with soul,
Yet when I waken, love's sweet self is there
And in my heart no longer gapes a hole.
So come whene'er thou canst, oh flower mine,
And I shall never show my poisoned sting,
But sip and sip the nectar that is thine,
And make of it an even fairer thing.
So let me drink thee in and I will brew
From love's sweet juice a sweeter honey dew.
XXVI.
Oh Death, be not so proud as thou dost seem!
Oh do not gloat o'ermuch in preening pride!
Dost think my love hath faded as a dream
Doth fade when dawn's fair rays are first descried?
Oh thou art but a vain and foolish thing
To think that thou couldst conquer lovers true!
Thou thinkest that thy sharp and bitter sting
Doth sunder love from love and end it too.
Yet still beyond thy parting veil we clasp
And join our hands in love's eternal light,
And though thou hast a strong and clinging grasp,
Thou shouldst be warned that dawn will follow night.
Thou art quite strong, but strongest? Not by far,
For true love is a never-fading star.
XXVII.
Oh come, my love, and tary not too long
Amid the vastly-vaulting heavens blue!
Thy coming will inspire me to song
Again, and will our ancient bond renew.
I seek for thee at morn and eventide.
I seek thy voice upon the flowing breeze.
I seek to find thy presence by my side,
And too much sought, thy welcome presence flees.
I yearn, my love. I yearn in deep desire
To feel again thine earthly hand in mine.
I seek to clasp thee close in passion's fire
And cling to thee as briar and rose entwine.
So come to me, I prithee! Tary not!
Our bond was by the hand eternal wrought.
XXVIII.
And yet I know my seeking is in vain,
For how can I e'er find what ne'er was lost?
Though love of earthly kind come not again,
Thy love is mine and worth the dearest cost!
Though tears I shed at times for thee, I know
That thou art bound to me beyond all time.
Herein must I the boundless beauty show
Of love's sweet self within this humble rhyme.
So why do I with countenance morose
Lament thy passing, love? Why is it so?
Why do I sing in phrases lachrimose
A bitter song of deepest, darkest woe?
Thou art still here! Thy love is mine to keep
Until at last the stars themselves do sleep!
XXVIX.
To linger in the land where lovers meet
Beyond the chasm vast of death's divide
Is what I wish, for there the air is sweet
And song is born upon its flowing tide.
To stay amid the visions bright I see
When in the land of dream I clasp thee near,
I feign would cast away all dear to me
And dwell forever where all things are clear.
The peace thou knowest singeth to my heart
A lilting siren's song of perfect bliss,
And when the pain of losing thee doth smart,
I would all earthly life deny for this.
At times I would renounce mine earthly frame
And join thee where the stars do sing love's name.
XXX.
To be where thou art not is not for me.
I can remain no more without thy touch!
How can I live, my love, apart from thee?
How can I stay while missing thee so much?
And yet I know these thoughts but vain desires,
for I could never seek to end the song
Of life which sings within me and inspires
My love for thee. to end it would be wrong.
A moment then? A fleeting time of bliss?
Is that too much to ask for lovers true?
One gentle touch? one whispered sigh? one kiss?
These simple things my spirit would renew.
So when I dream, I wish to dream of thee,
And know again our love will ever be.
XXXI.
In woodlend aisles, in lofty forest-halls,
Where sun and shadows blend in verdent hue,
A silver-singing fountain softly falls,
And in its song, I hear love's language too.
I sit in silence, hearing waters sing
Of beauty's breathless, ageless mystery,
And know that as the leaping spray doth spring,
So springeth forth my love untold for thee.
Amid the grey-green light of sunlit boughs,
Amid the cool and softly-singing shade,
I sit alone, and yet I know the vows
We two did make, each hand in other's laid.
Those vows will ne'er be broken nor forsworn.
Our spirits each were for the other born!
XXXII.
To be a lover true, one must be loved.
No mere infatuation earns the name.
No matter if thy heart be deeply moved
To say, "I love," from spark may not grow flame.
For only if the love is offered free
From thee to thine and thine to thee in turn,
Oh then is something beautiful to be,
For then the flame of love may truly burn.
And in the darkness of the velvet night,
When all is veiled, the moon and every star,
Why then in love thou mayest find the light,
Which guideth hearts to where their loved ones are.
To love, one must be loved. This truth I know,
For thou and I still bask within its glow.
XXXIII.
Oh love, what can I hope to say of thee?
How can my humble poetry be fair
Enough to capture what thou truly be?
Thou art beyond all things, both rich and rare!
Among the stars, thy dance hath just begun,
And yet thou hast been dancing there as long
As hath the moon danced with the blazing sun
Unto the ancient pulse of star-sung song.
I know that I have danced with thee a while,
Both here on earth and in the heavens vast.
I know that we have travelled mile on mile,
And that our journey will all roads outlast.
So let me sing these humble lays of mine,
That other hearts may see thy beauty shine.
XXXIV.
Oh come to me, my love, my life, my soul!
Oh come with singing voice and ringing tread!
Thy touch can make my battered spirit whole,
If thou wilt say our union be not dead.
OH come! Oh Come! Oh linger not afar
Beyond all time, beyond mortality!
Oh come to me, my brightly-burning star,
And in thy hand my heart shall ever be.
Though death did chill our mortal love as frost
Doth take the summer's blossom from the rose,
Yet still I know our love cannot be lost.
It is a tree which ever-greenly grows.
So come, my love, and I shall not gainsay!
My heart will from thy shelter never stray.
XXXV.
Within this cloistered curtilage of love,
Where winding walks so brightly bordered are
With lilies and forget-me-nots, we rove
Beneath the crimson of the evenstar.
The night is warm and thick with perfumes sweet,
And always is it bright, bewitching June,
And ever do our voices blend and meet
In passion's sweet, intoxicating tune.
Though dust of dreams hath made these ramparts high,
And though these lilies laced by fancy be,
Yet here there can be none but thou and I,
And yet not thou and I, my love, but we!
This bower of delight is mine to share
With only thee, the fairest beyond fair!
XXXVI.
My songs be thine, my love, and every palm
Of victory they may by glory gain.
Thy brow, not mine, should sweetened with the balm
Of gilead be, though laurels I obtain.
If not for thee, this novice poet would
Unto the muses' mount dare not acend.
If not for thee, so gentle and so good,
Before it could begin, my song would end.
So unto thee should go the poet's crown,
And unto thee the praise and the reward.
To thee should go the honour and renown,
For on thy wings this humble bard hath soared.
These numbers fair, though written by my hand,
Are thine, for they have come at love's command.
XXXVII.
With scented bloom, the apple boughs are hung
In palest hues of rose and summer-white.
From tender green, the blossoms now have sprung.
It was thy touch at which they did delight.
Before thy coming, love, the boughs were bare
And chilled beneath a pall of wintry frost.
The tree did stand alone in dark despair,
As if all hope of spring's return were lost.
But then, oh then! What warmth was in thy hand,
As though the sun had floated down to earth,
And at thy kind caress's sweet command,
A miracle did bring the tree's rebirth!
So in thy love, from crown to deepest root
this tree is nourished till it beareth fruit.
XXXVIII.
As starlight dimmeth in the dawning day,
And as the sun doth rise and slay the moon,
So did thy mortal beauty pass away
Eclipsed by something brighter, silver-strewn.
Thou wast my love in life, as fair as fair.
Thou wast the best, the brightest and the most
Beloved one with whom my heart did share
A fleeting, timeless time which now is lost.
But is it truly so? Can love be left
Behind though earthly life exist no more?
Though of thy body now I am bereft,
Will I not meet thee on a brighter shore?
Thy body may be lost, but thou art not.
Thou hast been to a bliss of beauty brought.
XXXIX.
The end is not an end for lovers true.
Though tears be shed, their bitterness is vain.
The bond of love, though ancient, still is new,
and even death can never break that chain.
So thou and I are joined beyond all time,
Beyond the sweep of death's devouring blade,
And only if it live within this rhyme,
Our love will not be dimmed, nor will it fade.
This song is thine, a monument of pride
Unto the love which bindeth us as one,
And as the moon doth draw upon the tide,
So love doth make this sea of music run.
this song may flow and ebb, but will endure
So long as there is love both high and pure.
XL.
'Tis time for me to lay my harp aside,
To bow my head and doff my laurels bright.
As from the flow doth come the ebbing tide,
So song to silence giveth birth. 'Tis right.
As at its crest a wave must start to sink,
And as the sun from zenith must decline,
And as the blooming violet must shrink,
So at its height must fade this song of mine.
Yet though the tide recedeth from the shore,
To other shores it floweth with the moon,
And though my harp shall play this song no more,
Yet shall I keep its sacred threads in tune.
So when my muse inspireth me again,
I shall once more repeat love's glad refrain.
THE END