Love and liberation; the Songs of Adsched of Meru and other poems

Front matter

LOVE AND LIBERATION

THE SONGS OF ADSCHED OF MERU AND OTHER POEMS

BY

Contents

SONGS OP ADSCHED OF MERU PAQB

THE NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 1

IN THE MIDNIGHT OP THY LOCKS 13

II I WOULD that I were a flower

That encloses forevermore The "You" and the "Me" together,

One in the deep heart's core.

The lover and the beloved

She bears in her breast alone, Inextricably interwoven,

Deep in her breast made one.

There in the being beloved

The lover is rapt away; The lover, drenched through with the loved one,

Laughs upward to greet the day.

In the chalice and cup of her beauty

Their mingled beauties unite, Their ecstasies mingled in choir

Make odor of the dim light.

Ah there the lover with longing,

In the self beloved the most Slips into the peace of her being,

In the depths of her being is lost.

We strive, and fall backward from beauty, Twain from the war to be one,

But the pain of their warring is ended, The race of their longing is run;

In the infinite peace of her bosom Where silently bloom and blend

The longing for beauty, and beauty — , The origin and the end.

Ill

O TO be part of all I love the most,

Touch you, and live you, and breathe of you, and

die, Sweet, of yourself, part of your blood and breath,

And pass into your beauty with a cry!

IV APRIL all my bosom

Was breaking and my heart, Sorrowful in the Springtime

I wandered, and apart.

I sought among the great, I sought among the wise;

Scornful from my face

They turned away their eyes.

But the beloved knew,

She took me to her breast,

With her heart she stilled The heart of my unrest.

All the life within me

I was so fain to give She touched with tears of pity,

She took, and bade it live.

In the silence of her being, Her coverts dark and deep,

The secret of her beauty, My sorrow fell asleep.

Whence my life forever

Has found a flowering place, In the quiet of her bosom,

The peace of her embrace.

O FAR beyond the sorrow of myself

I move to you, as the waning Winter moves

Toward the dear Spring, leaving himself behind, Lest with one touch he mar the self he loves!