"Of Death's dark doors--to me alone
"Smote in thy awful dying groan--
"My soul recall'd its blood and bone.
"Viewless the cord which draws from far
"To the round sun some mighty star;
"Viewless the strong-knit soul-cords are!
"I felt thy dying gasp--thy soul
"Towards mine a kindred wave in roll,
"I left the harps--I left the bowl.
"I sought the Hellway--I--the blest;
"That thou, new death-born son should rest
"Upon the strong rock of my breast.
"What dost thou here, young, fair and bold?
"Sleek with youth's gloss thy locks of gold;
"Thy years by flow'rs might yet be told!
"What dost thou at the ghostly goal,
"While yet thy years were to thy soul,
"As mead yet shallow in the bowl?"
His arm about the pale ghost cast,
The warrior blew a clear, loud blast;
Like frighten'd wolves the mists fled past.
Grew firm the way; worlds flame to light
The awful peak that thrusts its height,
With swift throbs upward, like a flight.
Of arrows from a host close set
Long meteors pierc'd its breast of jet--
Again the trump his strong lips met--
And at its blast blew all the day,
In broad winds on the awful Way;
Sun smote at Sun across the grey;
As reindeer smite the high-pil'd snow
To find the green moss far below--
They struck the mists thro' which did glow
Bright vales--and on a sea afar,
Lay at a sunlit harbour bar,
A galley gold-sail'd like a star!
Spake the pale ghost as onward sped
Heart-press'd to heart the valiant dead;
Soft the green paths beneath their tread.
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