Burning Wheel

<SPAN name="MOLE"></SPAN>MOLE.<br/> <br/> <br/> Tunnelled in solid blackness creeps<br/> The old mole-soul, and wakes or sleeps,<br/> He knows not which, but tunnels on<br/> Through ages of oblivion;<br/> Until at last the long constraint<br/> Of each-hand wall is lost, and faint<br/> Comes daylight creeping from afar,<br/> And mole-work grows crepuscular.<br/> Tunnel meets air and bursts; mole sees<br/> Men hugely walking ... or are they trees?<br/> And far horizons smoking blue,<br/> And chasing clouds for ever new?<br/> Green hills, like lighted lamps aglow<br/> Or quenching 'neath the cloud-shadow;<br/> Quenching and blazing turn by turn,<br/> Spring's great green signals fitfully burn.<br/> Mole travels on, but finds the steering<br/> A harder task of pioneering<br/> Than when he thridded through the strait<br/> Blind catacombs that ancient fate<br/> Had carved for him. Stupid and dumb<br/> And blind and touchless he had come<br/> A way without a turn; but here,<br/> Under the sky, the passenger<br/> Chooses his own best way; and mole<br/> Distracted wanders, yet his hole<br/> Regrets not much wherein he crept,<br/> But runs, a joyous nympholept,<br/> This way and that, by all made mad&mdash;<br/> River nymph and oread,<br/> Ocean's daughters and Lorelei,<br/> Combing the silken mystery,<br/> The glaucous gold of her rivery tresses&mdash;<br/> Each haunts the traveller, each possesses<br/> The drunken wavering soul awhile;<br/> Then with a phantom's cock-crow smile<br/> Mocks craving with sheer vanishment.<br/> <br/> Mole-eyes grow hawk's: knowledge is lent<br/> In grudging driblets that pay high<br/> Unconscionable usury<br/> To unrelenting life. Mole learns<br/> To travel more secure; the turns<br/> Of his long way less puzzling seem,<br/> And all those magic forms that gleam<br/> In airy invitation cheat<br/> Less often than they did of old.<br/> <br/> The earth slopes upward, fold by fold<br/> Of quiet hills that meet the gold<br/> Serenity of western skies.<br/> Over the world's edge with clear eyes<br/> Our mole transcendent sees his way<br/> Tunnelled in light: he must obey<br/> Necessity again and thrid<br/> Close catacombs as erst he did,<br/> Fate's tunnellings, himself must bore<br/> Through the sunset's inmost core.<br/> The guiding walls to each-hand shine<br/> Luminous and crystalline;<br/> And mole shall tunnel on and on,<br/> Till night let fall oblivion.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />