The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1901-03-17
CURRENT VERSE.
The FIutes of the God.

Oh that knew where to find thee--to fall and
encompass thy knees
Thou, as thou art, sustere, with thy tuTrets and
dungeoning keys.
Thou with the frontage of oak that enshadovs
they grave, straight brOws'
/ would cling TO thy knees till thou wouldst alb
solve the Corybant's VOWS
Even his VOWS Who was mine, the voice from
the forested hill,
With the flutes and the eyrnbals, he followed. and
them he followeth still
He follows he dreams, with wide eyes all bare
of the curtains Of sleep:
lie heeds not the dawn on the height, nor the
shadows upward they creep
II the arrows Of winter be forged, or the fame
Of the summer be fannedl
tie feels not the thong of the priest, the
blade in the lean, wild haud
Crimson the thorn-set path where the foot IN
sandaled hath trod
lie stayeth for none he shall meet-he hears but
the flutes OF the God
The mother that bare him. the father that guided
afeld his young feet.
desolate seat.
At the foot of fir tree they find him. Trembling.
their knees and their speech
Come away, thou, our support Like the vine
in the wind outreach;
Prop have we none; We are stripped, We are
shaken by every gust;
Withers unripened our fruit. and We stoop to be
gathered to dust.
Leave thy dark seat by the fir tree, and hear us
while yet thou mayst heart
Their voices die off the waste, and the sigh OF
the fir tree comes drear.
They wait for the voice in response; ne upTears
his thin form from the sod:
what saw yeY Who speakethr | heart hear
but the flutes OF the GOd''
| was the maiden betr0thed, and surely they
said "thou shalt go,
Shalt touch his dead heart into life, and his
eyes shall regain their lost glow"
Breathless | trod the lone ways. Among the
mad priests, he ranged,
/ beheld whom / loved. but ali! | beheld HIM
how changed, how estrangedi
| had drawn him apart from their throng. l had
whispered the words that charms,
Had touched his dead heart into life and pill
lowed his head in my arms;
But farther and farther alooi 10 the notes Of Wild
music he trod.
''Who follOwsf'' ne cried-''who followsF | hear
but the flutes of the GOd!'
On, that I knew where to find thee! Whether,
mid autumn increase,
With the young of the year around thee, thou
givest them plenty with peace;
Or whether, dark-thoughted, remote through the
waste. thy deity roves
And the eyes OF thy lions glance fire. in the
twilight of dells and of groves.
Bright are their ewes impatient the blast of the
desert their breath.
Who crosseth their path, without thee, shall
surely be doomed unto death.
Yet mother Of gods and of men, of the broods OF
the earth and the rocks
Thou, Berecynthia. heart by thy love, by his DARK
flowing locks,
BY the smile on his lips, by the dream in his
eyes, thou sendest at will,
BY the soft-drawn sigh while thou watchest his
slumber amid the high hill.
Thine Atys thou hast though a sleeper; the care
from his forehead is smOOthed;
But he whom l love never sleeps, and his Wild
eyes never be sOOthed!
Give him but peace and my arms. and quiet
supreme in the end;
Bid some old fir tree his branches above us in
shelter extend;
Then the life to the air the nail substance that
held it awhile to the clOd:
So shall he waken and madden no more TO the
flutes Of the God!
Edith NJ Thomas. in the Atlantic.