| Cumhal called out, bending his head, |
| Till Dathi came and stood, |
| With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-
mouth, |
| Between the wind and the wood. |
|
|
|
|
| And Cumhal said, bending his knees, |
| ‘I have come by the
windy way |
| To gather the half of your blessedness |
| And learn to pray when you pray. |
|
|
|
|
| ‘I can bring you
salmon out of the streams |
| And heron out of the skies.’ |
| But Dathi folded his hands and smiled |
| With the
secrets of God in his eyes. |
|
|
|
|
| And Cumhal saw like a drifting smoke |
| All manner of blessed souls, |
| Women
and children, young men with books, |
| And old men with croziers and stoles. |
|
|
|
|
| ‘Praise God and God’s Mother,’
Dathi said, |
| ‘For God and God’s Mother have sent |
| The blessedest souls that walk in the world |
| To fill your
heart with content.’ |
|
|
|
|
| ‘And which is the blessedest,’ Cumhal said, |
| ‘Where all are comely and good? |
| Is it
these that with golden thuribles |
| Are singing about the wood?’ |
|
|
|
|
| ‘My eyes are blinking,’ Dathi said, |
| ‘With
the secrets of God half blind, |
| But I can see where the wind goes |
| And follow the way of the wind; |
|
|
|
|
| ‘And
blessedness goes where the wind goes, |
| And when it is gone we are dead; |
| I see the blessedest soul in
the world |
| And he nods a drunken head. |
|
|
|
|
| ‘O blessedness comes in the night and the day |
| And whither
the wise heart knows; |
| And one has seen in the redness of wine |
| The Incorruptible Rose, |
|
|
|
|
| ‘That drowsily
drops faint leaves on him |
| And the sweetness of desire, |
| While time and the world are ebbing away |
| In
twilights of dew and of fire.’ |
