Here you will find the Long Poem The Flower Of Flame of poet Robert Nichols
I AS round the cliff I came alone The whole bay bared its blaze to me; Loud sang the wind, the wild sun shone The tumbled clouds fled scattering on, Light shattered on wave and winking stone, And in the glassy midst stood one Brighter than sun or cloud or sea. She with flame-vehement hair untied, Virginal in her fluttering dress, Watched, deafened and all dazzle-eyed, Each opulent breaker's crash and glide And now flung arms up high and wide As if, possessing all, she cried Her beauty, youth and happiness. Loud rang the waves and higher, higher The surge in chains of light was flung, The wind as in a wild desire Licked round her form?she seemed a spire Of sunny drift ! a fount of fire! The hymn of some triumphant lyre Which sounded when the world was young! Purified by the scalding glare, Swept clear by the salty sea-wind's flow, My eyes knew you for what you are? The daemon thing for which we dare, Which breaks us, which we bid not spare. The life, the light, the heavenly snare, The turretted city's overthrow, Helen, I knew you standing there! II The long, low wavelets of summer Glide in and glitter along the sand; The fitful breezes of summer Blow fragrantly from the land. Side by side we lie silent Between sunned cliffs and blown seas: Our eyes more bright than sea ripples, Our breaths more light than the breeze. When a gust meets a wave that advances The wave leaps, flames, falls with a hiss So lightly, so brightly each heart leaps When our dumb lips touch in a kiss. III Foamless the gradual waters well From the sheer deep, where darkness lies, Till to the shoulder rock they swell With a slow cumulance of sighs. O, waters gather up your strength From the blind caves of your unrest, Loose your load utterly at length Over the moonlight-marbled breast. There sleep, diffused, the long dim hours, Nor let your love-locks be withdrawn Till round the world-horizon glowers The wrath and chaos of the dawn. IV She picked a whorled shell from the beach And laid it close beside her ear; Then held it, frightened, at full reach Toward my face that I might hear. And while she leaned and while I heard Our dumb eyes dared not meet for shame, Our hearts within us sickly stirred, Our limbs ran wax before the flame. For in the despairing voice and meek An echo to our hearts we found Who through love-striving vainly seek To coop the infinite in bound. V All is estranged to-day. Chastened and meek, Side by side taking our way, With what anguish we seek To dare each to face the other or even to speak! The sun like an opal drifts Through a vapourous shine Or overwhelms itself in dark rifts, On the sea's far line Sheer light falls in a single sword like a sign. The sea, striving in its bed Like a corpse that awakes, Slowly heaves up its lustreless head, Crowned with weeds and snakes, To strike at the shore bareing fangs as it breaks. Something threatening earth Aims at our love;? Gone is our ignorant mirth, Love like speech of the dove; The Sword and the Snake have seen and proclaim now 'Enough!' VI The narrow pathway winds its course Through dwarfish oaks and junipers Till suddenly beyond the gorse We glimpse the copse of stunted firs, That tops the headland, round whose base The cold tide flings a drowned man's bones All day against the cliff's sheer face, All night prolongs his lasting groans. The Drowned?who in the copse once stood Waiting the Dead: to end both vows? Heard, as we hear, the split of wood And shrieking of the writhen boughs Grow shrill and shriller. Pass the spot, The strained boughs arch toward collapse. A whistle and?CRACK! there's the shot! Or is it but a bough which snaps? Ever, when we have left the gorse And through the copse each hastening hies, We, lovers on the self-same course, Dare not look in each other's eyes. VII Before I woke I knew her gone Though nothing nigh had stirred, Now by the curtain inward blown She stood not seen but heard Where the faint moonlight dimmed or shone . . . And neither spoke a word. One hand against her mouth she pressed, But could not staunch its cry, The other knocked upon her breast Impotently . . . while I Glared rigid, labouring, possessed And dared not ask her why. VIII Noon : and now rocks the summer sea All idleness, one gust alone Skates afar off and soundlessly Is gone from me as you are gone. No hull creeps on th' horizon's rim No pond of smoke wreathes the far sky, Only the dazzling sinuous swim Of the fierce tide-maze scalds the eye.