Chamber Music

He who hath glory lost, nor hath 
  Found any soul to fellow his, 
Among his foes in scorn and wrath 
  Holding to ancient nobleness, 
That high unconsortable one - 
His love is his companion.

Strings in the earth and air 
  Make music sweet; 
Strings by the river where 
  The willows meet. 

There's music along the river 
  [For Love wanders there,]1
Pale [flowers]2 on his mantle, 
  Dark leaves on his hair. 

All softly playing, 
  With head to [the]3 music bent, 
And fingers straying 
  Upon an instrument.

My dove, my beautiful one, 
  Arise, arise! 
  The night-dew lies 
Upon my lips and eyes. 

The odorous winds are weaving 
  A music of sighs: 
  Arise, arise, 
My dove, my beautiful one! 

I wait by the cedar tree, 
  My sister, my love. 
  White breast of the dove, 
My breast shall be your bed. 

The pale dew lies 
  Like a veil on my head. 
  My fair one, my fair dove, 
Arise, arise!1

I hear an army charging upon the land,
  And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
  Disdaining the reins, with flutt'ring whips, the charioteers.

They cry unto the night their battlename:
  I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,
  Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.

They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
  They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
  My love, my love, why have you left me alone?

O cool is the valley now 
  And there, love, will we go 
For many a choir is singing now 
  Where Love did sometime go. 

And hear you not the thrushes calling, 
  Calling us away? 
O cool and pleasant is the valley 
  And there, love, will we stay.