Mathilde Blind

Our Souls Have Touched Each Other

Gill Washington Mathilde Blind, Poems , , 0 Comment

 

Mathilde Blind

OUR souls have touched each other,
Two fountains from one jet;
Like children of one mother
Our leaping thoughts have met.

We were as far asunder
As green isles in the sea;
And now we ask in wonder
How that could ever be.

I dare not call thee lover
Nor any earthly name,
Though love’s full cup flows over
As water quick with flame.

When two strong minds have mated
As only spirits may,
The world shines new created
In a diviner day.

Yea, though hard fate may sever
My fleeting self from thine,
Thy thought will live for ever
And ever grow in mine.

Thou Walkest With Me

Gill Washington Mathilde Blind, Poems , , 0 Comment

 

Mathilde Blind

THOU walkest with me as the spirit-light
Of the hushed moon, high o’er a snowy hill,
Walks with the houseless traveller all the night,
When trees are tongueless and when mute the rill.
Moon of my soul, O phantasm of delight,
Thou walkest with me still.

The vestal flame of quenchless memory burns
In my soul’s sanctuary. Yea, still for thee
My bitter heart hath yearned, as moonward yearns
Each separate wave-pulse of the clamorous sea:
My Moon of love, to whom for ever turns
The life that aches through me.

I Was Again Beside Thee in a Dream

Gill Washington Mathilde Blind, Poems , , 0 Comment

 

Mathilde Blind

I WAS again beside thee in a dream:
Earth was so beautiful, the moon was shining;
The muffled voice of many a cataract stream
Came like a love-song, as, with arms entwining,
Our hearts were mixed in unison supreme.

The wind lay spell-bound in each pillared pine,
The tasselled larches had no sound or motion,
As my whole life was sinking into thine–
Sinking into a deep, unfathomed ocean
Of infinite love–uncircumscribed, divine.

Night held her breath, it seemed, with all her stars:
Eternal eyes that watched in mute compassion
Our little lives o’erleap their mortal bars,
Fused in the fulness of immortal passion,
A passion as immortal as the stars.

There was no longer any thee or me;
No sense of self, no wish or incompleteness
The moment, rounded to Eternity,
Annihilated time’s destructive fleetness:
For all but love itself had ceased to be.

Nirvana

Gill Washington Mathilde Blind, Poems , , 0 Comment

 

Mathilde Blind

DIVEST thyself, O Soul, of vain desire!
Bid hope farewell, dismiss all coward fears;
Take leave of empty laughter, emptier tears,
And quench, for ever quench, the wasting fire
Wherein this heart, as in a funeral pyre,
Aye burns, yet is consumed not. Years on years
Moaning with memories in thy maddened ears–
Let at thy word, like refluent waves, retire.

Enter thy soul’s vast realm as Sovereign Lord,
And, like that angel with the flaming sword,
Wave off life’s clinging hands. Then chains will fall
From the poor slave of self’s hard tyranny–
And Thou, a ripple rounded by the sea,
In rapture lost be lapped within the All.

 

Saving Love

Gill Washington Mathilde Blind , , 0 Comment

Mathilde Blind

WOULD we but love what will not pass away!
The sun that on each morning shines as clear
As when it rose first on the world’s first year;
The fresh green leaves that rustle on the spray.
The sun will shine, the leaves will be as gay
When graves are full of all our hearts held dear,
When not a soul of those who loved us here,
Not one, is left us–creatures of decay.

Yea, love the Abiding in the Universe
Which was before, and will be after us.
Nor yet for ever hanker and vainly cry
For human love–the beings that change or die;
Die–change–forget: to care so is a curse,
Yet cursed we’ll be rather than not care thus.