I AM the tender voice calling "Away," <br />Whispering between the beatings of the heart, <br />And inaccessible in dewy eyes <br />I dwell, and all unkissed on lovely lips, <br />Lingering between white breasts inviolate, <br />And fleeting ever from the passionate touch, <br />I shine afar, till men may not divine <br />Whether it is the stars or the beloved <br />They follow with rapt spirit. And I weave <br />My spells at evening, folding with dim caress, <br />Aerial arms and twilight dropping hair, <br />The lonely wanderer by wood or shore, <br />Till, filled with some deep tenderness, he yields, <br />Feeling in dreams for the dear mother heart <br />He knew, ere he forsook the starry way, <br />And clings there, pillowed far above the smoke <br />And the dim murmur from the duns of men. <br />I can enchant the trees and rocks, and fill <br />The dumb brown lips of earth with mystery, <br />Make them reveal or hide the god. I breathe <br />A deeper pity than all love, myself <br />Mother of all, but without hands to heal: <br />Too vast and vague, they know me not. But yet, <br />I am the heartbreak over fallen things, <br />The sudden gentleness that stays the blow, <br />And I am in the kiss that foemen give <br />Pausing in battle, and in the tears that fall <br />Over the vanquished foe, and in the highest, <br />Among the Danaan gods, I am the last <br />Council of mercy in their hearts where they <br />Mete justice from a thousand starry thrones.<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dana/
