Orion, and Other Poems

by Charles G.D. Roberts




A SMALL blue flower with yellow eye
    Hath mightier spell to move my soul
    Than even the mightiest notes which roll
From manís most perfect minstrelsy.
    A flash, a momentary gleam,                                                        
    A glimpse of some celestial dream,
And tears alone are left to me.

Filled with a longing vague and dim,
    I hold the flower in every light;
    To purge my soulís redarkened sight                                          
I grope till all my senses swim.
    In vain; I feel the ecstasy
    Only when suddenly I see
This pale star with the sapphire rim.

Nor hath the blossom such strange power                                      
    Because it saith "Forget me not"
    For some heart-holden, distant spot,
Or silent tongue, or buried hour.
    Methinks immortal memories
    Of some past scenes of Paradise                                               
Speak to my spirit through the flower.

Forgotten is our ancient tongue;
    Too dull our ears, our eyes too blind,
    Even quite to catch its notes, or find
Its symbols written bright among                                                    
    All shapes of beauty. But ítis hard,
    When one can hear, to be debarred
From knowledge of the meaning sung.