I WOKE in the Land of Night, With a dream of Day at my heart; Its golden outlines vanished, But its charm would not depart;
Like music still remaining, But its meaning–no man can say In the Land of Night where they know not Of Day, nor the things of Day.
I dwelt in the chiefest city Of all the Land of Night; Where the fires burn ever brighter That give the people light; Where the sky above is darkened, And never a star is seen, And they think it but children's fancy That ever a star hath been.
But out from that city early I fled by a doubtful way; And faltering oft and lonely I sought my dream of Day; Till I came at last to a Mountain That rose exceeding high, And I thought I saw on its summit A glint as of dawn from the sky.
'Twas midway on that Mountain That I found an altar-stone, Deep-cut with runes forgotten, And symbols little known; And scarce could I read the meaning Of the legends carven there, But I lay me out on that altar, Breathing an ancient prayer:
'By the God of the timeless Sky, O Saint of the Altar, say What gift hast thou for me? For I have dreamed of Day: But I seek nor gift nor power, I pray for naught but light; And only for light to lead me Out of the Land of Night!'
Long I lay on that altar, Up-gazing fearfully Through the awful cold and darkness That now encompassed me; Till it seemed as I were lying drowned Under a lifeless sea.
There shone as a pale blue Star, Intangible–serene– And I saw a spark from it fall As it were a crystal keen; And it flashed as it fell and pierced My temples white and cold; Then round that altar-stone once more The awful darkness rolled.
But there was light on my brow, And a calm that steeled me through, And I was strong with a strength That never before I knew; With a strength for the trackless heights, And scorn of the world below– But I rose not up from that altar-stone, I would not leave it so.
'O Saint of the Altar, say How may this light redeem? For though on my brow like a jewel Its Star hath left a gleam, O Saint, 'tis a light too cold and cruel To be the light of my dream!'
Anon 'twas a crimson Star That over the Altar shone, And there sank as a rose of flame To my heart ere the Star was gone; And out from the flames thereof A subtle fragrance then Went stealing down the mountain-side O'er the lowly ways of men.
The Star was gone, but it brought To light in its crimson glow The lovely things forgotten I dreamed of long ago; And gladly then I had given My life to all below; Yet I rose not up from the altar-stone, I would not leave it so.
And at last was a golden Star; But I scarce know how nor where; For it melted all around me, And the other Stars were there; And all in one blissful moment The light of Day had come; Then I reeled away from that altar-stone, Old, and blind, and dumb.
I dwell again in the city, I seek no more for light; But I go on a mission of silence To those who would leave the Night; And for this–and this thing only, Through the evil streets I stray; I who am free to the timeless Sky Illumined forever with Day.
----
Illumined
Tom McInnes 1867-1951
----
Graphic - Hilma af Klint 1862 – 1944
