The Poetry Corner

Musagetes.

By Madison Julius Cawein

For the mountains' hoarse greetings came hollow From stormy wind-chasms and caves, And I heard their wild cataracts wallow Huge bulks in long spasms of waves, And that Demon said, "Lo! you must follow! And our path is o'er myriads of graves." Then I felt that the black earth was porous And rotten with worms and with bones; And I knew that the ground that now bore us Was cadaverous with Death's skeletons; And I saw horrid eyes, heard sonorous And dolorous gnashings and groans. But the night of the tempest and thunder, The might of the terrible skies, And the fire of Hell that, - coiled under The hollow Earth, - smoulders and sighs, And the laughter of stars and their wonder Mingled and mixed in its eyes. And we clomb - and the moon old and sterile Clomb with us o'er torrent and scar! And I yearned towards her oceans of beryl, Wan mountains and cities of spar - "'Tis not well," that one said, "you're in peril Of falling and failing your star." And we clomb - through a murmur of pinions, Thin rattle of talons and plumes; And a sense as of Boreal dominions Clove down to the abysms and tombs; And the Night's naked, Ethiope minions Swarmed on us in legions of glooms. And we clomb - till we stood at the portal Of the uttermost point of the peak, And it led with a step more than mortal Far upward some presence to seek; And I felt that this love was immortal, This love which had made me so weak. We had clomb till the limbo of spirits Of darkness and crime deep below Swung nebular; nor could we hear its Lost wailings and moanings of woe, - For we stood in a realm that inherits A vanquishing virgin of snow.