tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post2366978465692539207..comments2024-03-24T17:49:05.886-04:00Comments on The Robert Moss BLOG: Yeats and the dusky path of a dreamMarcia Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04530003059608361331noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-48823084354490075322010-11-05T18:28:50.382-04:002010-11-05T18:28:50.382-04:00This comment has been removed by the author.ninahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07681001278538562028noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-32629175394483124522010-11-05T15:04:54.143-04:002010-11-05T15:04:54.143-04:0069. The Faces of Memory
DREAM faces bloom arou...69. The Faces of Memory<br /> <br /> <br />DREAM faces bloom around your face <br /> Like flowers upon one stem; <br />The heart of many a vanished race <br /> Sighs as I look on them. <br /> <br />The sun rich face of Egypt glows, 5<br /> The eyes of Eire brood, <br />With whom the golden Cyprian shows <br /> In lovely sisterhood. <br /> <br />Your tree of life put forth these flowers <br /> In ages past away: 10<br />They had the love in other hours <br /> I give to you to-day. <br /> <br />One light their eyes have, as may shine <br /> One star on many a sea, <br />They look that tender love on mine 15<br /> That lights your glance on me. <br /> <br />They fade in you; their lips are fain <br /> To meet the old caress: <br />And all their love is mine again <br /> As lip to lip we press. 20Angelohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17129139209636650196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-54663167938516315052010-11-05T15:03:52.905-04:002010-11-05T15:03:52.905-04:00Here are two poems of AE (George William Russell),...Here are two poems of AE (George William Russell), a contemporary of Yeats.<br /><br />68. Babylon<br /> <br /> <br />THE BLUE dusk ran between the streets: my love was winged within my mind, <br />It left to-day and yesterday and thrice a thousand years behind. <br />To-day was past and dead for me, for from to-day my feet had run <br />Through thrice a thousand years to walk the ways of ancient Babylon. <br />On temple top and palace roof the burnished gold flung back the rays 5<br />Of a red sunset that was dead and lost beyond a million days. <br />The tower of heaven turns darker blue, a starry sparkle now begins; <br />The mystery and magnificence, the myriad beauty and the sins <br />Come back to me. I walk beneath the shadowy multitude of towers; <br />Within the gloom the fountain jets its pallid mist in lily flowers. 10<br />The waters lull me and the scent of many gardens, and I hear <br />Familiar voices, and the voice I love is whispering in my ear. <br />Oh real as in dream all this; and then a hand on mine is laid: <br />The wave of phantom time withdraws; and that young Babylonian maid, <br />One drop of beauty left behind from all the flowing of that tide, 15<br />Is looking with the self-same eyes, and here in Ireland by my side. <br />Oh light our life in Babylon, but Babylon has taken wings, <br />While we are in the calm and proud procession of eternal things.Angelohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17129139209636650196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-19250766595537824342010-11-05T08:54:43.708-04:002010-11-05T08:54:43.708-04:00And in a multi dimensional world within our own fa...And in a multi dimensional world within our own family of selves connected by golden cords to certain other families of selves, is there not a likelihood of encountering within the time and space we believe we are now in, profound loves that are being enacted in other dimensions? And then is the experience less wistful and perhaps more like a fire bursting in the heart, or the deep certainty of homecoming, leaving the heart aglow and opening gateways heretofore unknown?Dianahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02877662692937041007noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-65577163240372431522010-11-04T20:00:59.870-04:002010-11-04T20:00:59.870-04:00Savannah - "wistful" is a good, old Engl...Savannah - "wistful" is a good, old English term for some of the emotions being expressed and discussed here. It means to be full of longing in a quiet and attentive way. It may be derived from "wist", a noun that has slipped out of the language, but meant "intent" in medieval times. Some link it to "wisht", meaning silent. Sounds like wishful...and full of intent...Robert Mosshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09231870716685877709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-3436003209115524772010-11-04T16:26:50.961-04:002010-11-04T16:26:50.961-04:00This is a lovely thread, and one that seems perfec...This is a lovely thread, and one that seems perfect for the wistful days of autumn (when my heart will readily leap to the Other longing also...). Thank you!Savannahhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17742991823988063247noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-71768452576427150692010-11-04T13:57:00.389-04:002010-11-04T13:57:00.389-04:00Nancy - the discussion here is becoming a beautifu...Nancy - the discussion here is becoming a beautiful exploration of the heart's deepest longing and the nature of the immortal Beloved, who can of course put on many faces and guises.<br /><br />And yet, I think that Yeats and Tagore are singing quite specifically about the very human longing for one who is known and loved in another mortal lifetime, which may be not only in the "past" but going on NOW.Robert Mosshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09231870716685877709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-71888092921310626512010-11-04T13:08:44.856-04:002010-11-04T13:08:44.856-04:00I've felt that longing too and struggled to pi...I've felt that longing too and struggled to pin it down and name it. My working theory now is that it's not a longing for a particular person (in this life or a former one) but maybe for our own best Selves, or God, or Life itself. In your Gore journey years ago based on Dante's sliver and black and red giant steps we had to struggle to ascend, at the end I found my true Love to be ..... my deceased father! Maybe the Love takes the guise we can best connect with at the time, so we can get the learning most clearly, as you say about Dante and Beatrice.Nancyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05156176014470929754noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-57390980777713370022010-11-04T11:24:57.783-04:002010-11-04T11:24:57.783-04:00Nina - you remind me that the Beloved of the soul ...Nina - you remind me that the Beloved of the soul may assume the mask of an earthly lover, as Dante found when he encountered Beatrice.Robert Mosshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09231870716685877709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-75087354140220910682010-11-04T09:42:20.147-04:002010-11-04T09:42:20.147-04:00Wanda - Yes, I feel something similar. It's th...Wanda - Yes, I feel something similar. It's the kind of nostalgia the Portuguese call saudade. Perhaps there is a word in Irish Gaelic for that.Robert Mosshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09231870716685877709noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-84864682264792973152010-11-04T08:25:29.314-04:002010-11-04T08:25:29.314-04:00I always find for myself a deep sense of nostalgia...I always find for myself a deep sense of nostalgia when Yeats writes of the love of a former life. Nostalgia for what in my own life? That is hard for me to grasp, but I feel it in the shadows and feel that I almost have my mind wrapped around it but then it vanishes. In some of his words I also sense a tension - in my search for their meaning in my life - that is both mysterious and beautiful.Wanda Burchhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15451187361106279187noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-925549664214256461.post-62978886193072030782010-11-04T00:42:44.865-04:002010-11-04T00:42:44.865-04:00This comment has been removed by the author.ninahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07681001278538562028noreply@blogger.com