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FAND, SELECTION, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Come to the summer of my beauty, come!
Last Line: And choose thou immortality and fand.'


'COME to the summer of my beauty, come!
Leave thou the cold pale spring;
Winter is in its heart;
And, born of chill, to chill will it return:
But I am summer eternal,
That have not ripened, being perfect ever,
And shall not thence decline.

'The raw weak years of youth I have not known;
Therefore there is no part of me,
Whereby can ever age take hold,
To draw me down to death:
With steps reluctant down the deep'ning chill,
To where in ever-during gloom he sits,
And frost, that ne'er is frighted of the sun.

'On full-grown pinions I have for ever soared.
And ne'er have lain unfledged,
Helpless within the nest,
Nor learnt by feeble flutterings to rise:
In the mid heights of air I have been born:
My jewelled wings shall never lose their treasures,
Never to earth descend.

'I am the moon, that having ne'er been crescent,
From fulness ne'er shall wane:
Vainly thou shalt not search for me in heaven:
But over thee the river of my beauty
Shall roll in floods, unstinted and unceasing,
Shedding delight and bliss upon thy being,
As the full moon pours light upon the sea.

'Come to me, come, Cuhoolin!
Open wide have I flung to thee
The gates of the golden land, whose air giveth life that dies not:
Feelest thou not upon thy cheek the breezes,
Fanning thy flame of mortal to divine?
Feel'st thou not that its bliss floweth round thee, soft as the waters,
Into thy soul's mid core to the likeness of gods transforming?
Surely into thy being already so deeply the glow divine hath entered,
Never could'st thou endure the dull sad world again:
The cold dark world of men and death;
Turn from it, once and for ever,
And choose thou immortality and Fand.'





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