Some Poems of Roger Casement — The Peak of the Cameroons

I.

The Heavens rest upon thee that the eye Of man may not, for when thou sittest hid In thunderstorm of lofty pyramid Of thwarting sea-cloud whitening up the sky, Then are the clouds set on thee to forbid [A]That man should share the mystery of Sinai;

Then are thy ashen cones again bestrid By living fire--impenetrably nigh.

For thus, by the Dualla, art thou seen, Home of a God they know, yet would not know;

But I, who far above their doubts have been Upon thy forehead hazardous, may grow To fuller knowledge, rooted sure and slow Where lava slid--like pines Enceladine.

[A] To this line there is a note:--"This line is inadmissible in a sonnet."

II.

And I have seen thee in the West's red setting Stand like some Monarch in a crimson field, With fleeing clouds empurpling as they yield.

And sunset still the glorious sham abetting.

While high above thy purple forest's fretting Thy mighty chest in tranquil gold concealed, And on thy brows of the dead days begetting A light that comes from higher things revealed.

So shows there in a passing soul's transgression A light of hope beyond these prison bars Divinely rendered, that, when doubting mars Our day's decline, we still may find progression Of light to light, as day with silent cession Makes o'er to night--articulate with stars.