New Zealand Verse/Love's Treasure House
CXIII.
Love’s Treasure-house.
I went to Love’s old Treasure-house last night,
Through soundless halls of the great Tower of Time,
And saw the miser Memory, grown grey
With years of jealous counting of his gems,
At his old task within the solitude.
By a faint taper the deep-furrowed face,
Heavy with power, lay shadowed on the wall—
Shadow and shadowy face communing there—
While the lean flame a living spear-point leaped
With menace at the night’s dark countenance.
Through soundless halls of the great Tower of Time,
And saw the miser Memory, grown grey
With years of jealous counting of his gems,
At his old task within the solitude.
By a faint taper the deep-furrowed face,
Heavy with power, lay shadowed on the wall—
Shadow and shadowy face communing there—
While the lean flame a living spear-point leaped
With menace at the night’s dark countenance.
“And this,” he said, “is gold from out her hair,
And this the moonlight that she wandered in,
With here a rose, enamelled by her breath,
That bloomed in glory ’tween her breasts, and here
The brimming sun-cup that she quaffed at noon,
And here the star that cheered her in the night;
In this great chest, see curiously wrought,
Are purest of Love’s gems.” A ruby key,
Enclasped upon a golden ring, he took,
With care, from out some secret hiding-place,
And delicately touched the lock, whereat
I staggered, blinded by the light of things
More luminous than stars, and questioned thus—
“What are these treasures, miser Memory?”
And slowly bending his grey head, he spoke:
“These are the multitude of kisses sweet
Love gave so gladly, and I treasure here.”
And this the moonlight that she wandered in,
With here a rose, enamelled by her breath,
That bloomed in glory ’tween her breasts, and here
The brimming sun-cup that she quaffed at noon,
And here the star that cheered her in the night;
In this great chest, see curiously wrought,
Are purest of Love’s gems.” A ruby key,
Enclasped upon a golden ring, he took,
With care, from out some secret hiding-place,
And delicately touched the lock, whereat
I staggered, blinded by the light of things
More luminous than stars, and questioned thus—
“What are these treasures, miser Memory?”
And slowly bending his grey head, he spoke:
“These are the multitude of kisses sweet
Love gave so gladly, and I treasure here.”
D. M. Ross.