The Summons

Straight to his death he went,
A smile on his lips,
All his life's joy unspent,
Into eclipse.

The song of the shell he heard
Cleaving the dark,
As though 'twere the song of a bird,
Linnet or lark.

Why would he go so fast
Out to the dead,
All in a heavenly haste
Not to be stayed?

What did he see afar
That drew him after?
Light from a merry star,
Singing and laughter?

Nay, but a face was his
Only in dreams,
Only in dreams of bliss
In the star-gleams.

Nay, but a face that watched
Long years to see
Who came by the door unlatched,
If it were he.

What was the voice before
That lured him on?
'Oh, thou long-hungered for,
My son, my son!'

Lo, he hath heard, hath seen,
He hath slipped over
Where the great days begin
For friend and lover.