Left Wingless

Oh, that I ever watched them,
Sporting above the sea!
For they are flown far away,
And my heart with them to stay
Has gone, gone and wingless left me.

I saw them; I saw them rioting,
Silver bodies twisting about,
Dragons shining above the sea,
Dancing and playing- ah, so free,
Sparkling argentine and proud.

Necks entwining and wings beating,
Long tails and legs a song of grace,
As they twisted and tangled about
Each wing shining like a cloud,
Each wing like a slap in the face.

In an instant I knew that never
Should a human like that soar,
Twist so careless and full of grace
Above the clouds at cloudy pace.
And I, alas, shall never more

Have the heart that flew away
To hide in their shining scales.
For, alas, as I watched them soar,
My heart was loosed from the shore,
Leashed in their eyes and tails.

Thundering, dancing, so they went,
Their necks like a gliding swan's,
Captured sunlight in their scales,
Radiance of a thousand tales,
Radiance of Arthurian dawns,

Playing about them as they played.
So my heart left me, and went to them.
Rather I that swallows, or that swans
Had captured my heart and gone.
They, at least, are not attainless gems.

But the dragons are; for never more
Shall they come again to my eyes.
It was sheer chance at all that them
Delivered to my eyes that same
Dawn my heart turned dragonwise.

What is it that the poet says?
That it is better to lose above
The sparkle from a true love's eyes
Than to unflinching face sunrise
And never to have known love?

Oh, many times I think him right;
But, that morning, I could not.
The dragons flying high above,
In glory and grandeur free to move,
Made me stand, my heart forgot,

Gave my heart the chance to fly.
Then, when they wheeled and turned,
And I could not move, could not
Turn my eyes or heart from that spot,
I knew what fire in me had burned.

I had lost my heart, my soul,
To the shining speed of dragon wings
That above my head had turned.
All to original ashes was returned.
I was torn apart from mortal things.

I hunger after that perfect beauty.
I would give my family to blood,
In order once more to have wings,
To dance to the music the moon sings,
To fly exalting above the flood.

I have loved, and I have lost;
And, having done both, and wingless,
With dragons flying in my blood,
Been left standing in the mud,
I would rather not have seen the crest

Of beauty untainted by the earth.
So, I will stand here, while far away
The dragons fly, while I am wingless,
My soul torn by their loveliness,
Watching as morning becomes day.