Exile

Look’d at, when in the streetsTrue sorrow, seal’d with soresAnd wrap’d in rags, entreatsA charity from ours,Manhood can best control;But this dark exile hathWorse wounds, and of the soul—A misery and a wrath.

Look’d at, when in the streetsTrue sorrow, seal’d with soresAnd wrap’d in rags, entreatsA charity from ours,

Look’d at, when in the streets

True sorrow, seal’d with sores

And wrap’d in rags, entreats

A charity from ours,

Manhood can best control;But this dark exile hathWorse wounds, and of the soul—A misery and a wrath.

Manhood can best control;

But this dark exile hath

Worse wounds, and of the soul—

A misery and a wrath.

ExileIHappy the man who ploughsAll day his native croft;He looks to heaven and knows,Smiling, the lark aloft.Happy the man whose toilLeads on laborious hills;The rock beneath the soilThe measure of his ills.Happiest, who can go forthThro’ every age and clime,His home the whole of earth,His heritage all time.In vasty Wilds and withNo crimson petals prancktThe shallow briars breatheAnd bloom and die unthankt.And we the useless Briar,And round us Desert spreadThe red Sun rolls his fireAnd smites the Desert dead;Death, Silence, and the StarWith scornful nostrils curl’d;And half-forgotten, far,The movements of the world.IIOne hour released I rushtAbout the world again;The living thousands crusht;The streets were full of rain;

ExileIHappy the man who ploughsAll day his native croft;He looks to heaven and knows,Smiling, the lark aloft.

Exile

Happy the man who ploughs

All day his native croft;

He looks to heaven and knows,

Smiling, the lark aloft.

Happy the man whose toilLeads on laborious hills;The rock beneath the soilThe measure of his ills.

Happy the man whose toil

Leads on laborious hills;

The rock beneath the soil

The measure of his ills.

Happiest, who can go forthThro’ every age and clime,His home the whole of earth,His heritage all time.

Happiest, who can go forth

Thro’ every age and clime,

His home the whole of earth,

His heritage all time.

In vasty Wilds and withNo crimson petals prancktThe shallow briars breatheAnd bloom and die unthankt.

In vasty Wilds and with

No crimson petals pranckt

The shallow briars breathe

And bloom and die unthankt.

And we the useless Briar,And round us Desert spreadThe red Sun rolls his fireAnd smites the Desert dead;

And we the useless Briar,

And round us Desert spread

The red Sun rolls his fire

And smites the Desert dead;

Death, Silence, and the StarWith scornful nostrils curl’d;And half-forgotten, far,The movements of the world.

Death, Silence, and the Star

With scornful nostrils curl’d;

And half-forgotten, far,

The movements of the world.

One hour released I rushtAbout the world again;The living thousands crusht;The streets were full of rain;

One hour released I rusht

About the world again;

The living thousands crusht;

The streets were full of rain;

I felt the north wind stingAnd glory’d in the sleet;I heard my footsteps ringAlong the frosty street;And saw—less seen than felt—Swift-flashing Italy,And that bright city builtUpon the mirroring Sea.IIIMy country, my England, home,Are thy flowers bright, thy bellsRinging the spring welcome,The winter long farewells?Are thy fields fair—each flowerFill’d with the heav’nly dew,My country, at this hourWhen I am thinking of you?Art thou so far, so fair?Across what leagues of foam,My country? Art thou still there,My England, my country, my home?IVThis hateful desert landIs pent by a great seaThat booms upon the strandFor ever. Salt the seaAnd salt the shore; the thornAnd cactus stand and gazeUpon these waves; new-bornThe young grass ends her days;Straightly the beach is lined.I wander to the shore.The sunset dies behind,The full moon springs before.Of these great Deeps that linkThe land I love with this,I wander to the brink,I watch the waters kissThis lonely shore. O Waves,O Winds and Waters, whereMy country? Sing, O Waves,And tell me of it here.O Night? O Moon that comest,A sad face fronting mine?O dusking Deep that boomest,What tidings of it thine?VO Homeland, at this hourWhat joys are thine? This moonWhat lovers in what bowerSees? and what jocund tuneFrom smoky villagesIs heard? What homely lightShines welcome through the trees?What watch-dog barks delight?What lingering linnet flingsHer good-night in the air?What honeysuckle ringsHer chime of fragrance there?One moment, and I seeThe cot, the lane, the light,The moon behind the tree,The evening turn to night;One moment know the scentOf smoke of fragrant fires,And hear the cattle pentWithin the wattled byres.

I felt the north wind stingAnd glory’d in the sleet;I heard my footsteps ringAlong the frosty street;

I felt the north wind sting

And glory’d in the sleet;

I heard my footsteps ring

Along the frosty street;

And saw—less seen than felt—Swift-flashing Italy,And that bright city builtUpon the mirroring Sea.

And saw—less seen than felt—

Swift-flashing Italy,

And that bright city built

Upon the mirroring Sea.

III

My country, my England, home,Are thy flowers bright, thy bellsRinging the spring welcome,The winter long farewells?

My country, my England, home,

Are thy flowers bright, thy bells

Ringing the spring welcome,

The winter long farewells?

Are thy fields fair—each flowerFill’d with the heav’nly dew,My country, at this hourWhen I am thinking of you?

Are thy fields fair—each flower

Fill’d with the heav’nly dew,

My country, at this hour

When I am thinking of you?

Art thou so far, so fair?Across what leagues of foam,My country? Art thou still there,My England, my country, my home?

Art thou so far, so fair?

Across what leagues of foam,

My country? Art thou still there,

My England, my country, my home?

This hateful desert landIs pent by a great seaThat booms upon the strandFor ever. Salt the sea

This hateful desert land

Is pent by a great sea

That booms upon the strand

For ever. Salt the sea

And salt the shore; the thornAnd cactus stand and gazeUpon these waves; new-bornThe young grass ends her days;

And salt the shore; the thorn

And cactus stand and gaze

Upon these waves; new-born

The young grass ends her days;

Straightly the beach is lined.I wander to the shore.The sunset dies behind,The full moon springs before.

Straightly the beach is lined.

I wander to the shore.

The sunset dies behind,

The full moon springs before.

Of these great Deeps that linkThe land I love with this,I wander to the brink,I watch the waters kiss

Of these great Deeps that link

The land I love with this,

I wander to the brink,

I watch the waters kiss

This lonely shore. O Waves,O Winds and Waters, whereMy country? Sing, O Waves,And tell me of it here.

This lonely shore. O Waves,

O Winds and Waters, where

My country? Sing, O Waves,

And tell me of it here.

O Night? O Moon that comest,A sad face fronting mine?O dusking Deep that boomest,What tidings of it thine?

O Night? O Moon that comest,

A sad face fronting mine?

O dusking Deep that boomest,

What tidings of it thine?

O Homeland, at this hourWhat joys are thine? This moonWhat lovers in what bowerSees? and what jocund tune

O Homeland, at this hour

What joys are thine? This moon

What lovers in what bower

Sees? and what jocund tune

From smoky villagesIs heard? What homely lightShines welcome through the trees?What watch-dog barks delight?

From smoky villages

Is heard? What homely light

Shines welcome through the trees?

What watch-dog barks delight?

What lingering linnet flingsHer good-night in the air?What honeysuckle ringsHer chime of fragrance there?

What lingering linnet flings

Her good-night in the air?

What honeysuckle rings

Her chime of fragrance there?

One moment, and I seeThe cot, the lane, the light,The moon behind the tree,The evening turn to night;

One moment, and I see

The cot, the lane, the light,

The moon behind the tree,

The evening turn to night;

One moment know the scentOf smoke of fragrant fires,And hear the cattle pentWithin the wattled byres.

One moment know the scent

Of smoke of fragrant fires,

And hear the cattle pent

Within the wattled byres.

One moment—and I wake;The vision fades and falls;These lifeless deserts makeMe adamantine walls.

One moment—and I wake;

The vision fades and falls;

These lifeless deserts make

Me adamantine walls.

III

Soul-ScornNo cloak of cloudy wrackThe mistless mystery mars,But all the desert is blackBeneath the quivering stars.I hear the pinions creakOf night-birds, beating by;And lost hyaenas shriekUnto the spectral sky.The Stars, immortal SonsOf God, are full of fire;But we, rejected ones,Know heav’n but in desire.My Soul said, ‘Art thou dead?The chasm of night is riv’n;What dost thou see?’ I said,‘The full-fired fires of heav’n.’‘Look not but see,’ he said.I said, ‘I know not whetherThey are the hosts of GodClashing their spears together.So bright the stars appearTheir splendour smokes in heav’n;I think indeed I hearTheir distant voices ev’n.’He said, ‘See not but know.’I said, ‘I cannot see;I think perhaps they goTo some great victory.’

Soul-ScornNo cloak of cloudy wrackThe mistless mystery mars,But all the desert is blackBeneath the quivering stars.

Soul-Scorn

No cloak of cloudy wrack

The mistless mystery mars,

But all the desert is black

Beneath the quivering stars.

I hear the pinions creakOf night-birds, beating by;And lost hyaenas shriekUnto the spectral sky.

I hear the pinions creak

Of night-birds, beating by;

And lost hyaenas shriek

Unto the spectral sky.

The Stars, immortal SonsOf God, are full of fire;But we, rejected ones,Know heav’n but in desire.

The Stars, immortal Sons

Of God, are full of fire;

But we, rejected ones,

Know heav’n but in desire.

My Soul said, ‘Art thou dead?The chasm of night is riv’n;What dost thou see?’ I said,‘The full-fired fires of heav’n.’

My Soul said, ‘Art thou dead?

The chasm of night is riv’n;

What dost thou see?’ I said,

‘The full-fired fires of heav’n.’

‘Look not but see,’ he said.I said, ‘I know not whetherThey are the hosts of GodClashing their spears together.

‘Look not but see,’ he said.

I said, ‘I know not whether

They are the hosts of God

Clashing their spears together.

So bright the stars appearTheir splendour smokes in heav’n;I think indeed I hearTheir distant voices ev’n.’

So bright the stars appear

Their splendour smokes in heav’n;

I think indeed I hear

Their distant voices ev’n.’

He said, ‘See not but know.’I said, ‘I cannot see;I think perhaps they goTo some great victory.’

He said, ‘See not but know.’

I said, ‘I cannot see;

I think perhaps they go

To some great victory.’

He said, ‘For ever they go,Still onward, on and on;And that is why they knowThe victory’s clarion.’I said, ‘I am too weakTo do more than I must.’He said, ‘Then cease to seekAnd perish in the dust.’

He said, ‘For ever they go,Still onward, on and on;And that is why they knowThe victory’s clarion.’

He said, ‘For ever they go,

Still onward, on and on;

And that is why they know

The victory’s clarion.’

I said, ‘I am too weakTo do more than I must.’He said, ‘Then cease to seekAnd perish in the dust.’

I said, ‘I am too weak

To do more than I must.’

He said, ‘Then cease to seek

And perish in the dust.’

ResolveBound in misfortune’s bands,Blindfold and brought to nought,I would reach out my handsAnd touch eternal thought.I cannot choose but tryBehind these prison barsTo measure earth and skyAnd know the whole of stars;And what I rede I write,Vain visions as they rise,Vain visions of the night,Unworthy others’ eyes.I said, ‘Tho’ dungeon’d hereIn these deep dens of night,My soul shall persevereTo seek supernal light;Untainted Truth to knowFrom that fair face of LiesWhose heav’nly features glowLike Truth’s, save in the eyes;Till, after all these years,The wisdom come unsoughtTo see the stars as spheresAnd sound the bounds of thought.’

ResolveBound in misfortune’s bands,Blindfold and brought to nought,I would reach out my handsAnd touch eternal thought.

Resolve

Bound in misfortune’s bands,

Blindfold and brought to nought,

I would reach out my hands

And touch eternal thought.

I cannot choose but tryBehind these prison barsTo measure earth and skyAnd know the whole of stars;

I cannot choose but try

Behind these prison bars

To measure earth and sky

And know the whole of stars;

And what I rede I write,Vain visions as they rise,Vain visions of the night,Unworthy others’ eyes.

And what I rede I write,

Vain visions as they rise,

Vain visions of the night,

Unworthy others’ eyes.

I said, ‘Tho’ dungeon’d hereIn these deep dens of night,My soul shall persevereTo seek supernal light;

I said, ‘Tho’ dungeon’d here

In these deep dens of night,

My soul shall persevere

To seek supernal light;

Untainted Truth to knowFrom that fair face of LiesWhose heav’nly features glowLike Truth’s, save in the eyes;

Untainted Truth to know

From that fair face of Lies

Whose heav’nly features glow

Like Truth’s, save in the eyes;

Till, after all these years,The wisdom come unsoughtTo see the stars as spheresAnd sound the bounds of thought.’

Till, after all these years,

The wisdom come unsought

To see the stars as spheres

And sound the bounds of thought.’

Desert-ThoughtsI hold with them who seeNor only idly standThe deed of thought to beWorth many deeds of hand.Ever as we journey sinkThe old behind the new,And Heav’n commands we thinkAs justly as we do.One golden virtue moreThan virtue we must prize,One iron duty moreThan duty, to be wise.Who to himself hath said,‘This chamber must be closed;This tract of truth I dread,This darkness God-imposedMay not be lifted,’ keepsAn ever-open doorThro’ which deception creeps,Confounding more and more,Until to wild extremesOf falsehood driv’n he dies,Intoxicate with dreamsAnd drunk with a thousand lies.And more if he have takenA secret lie for friend,He shall be found forsaken,And terrible his end.So one doth travelling ride;A dreadful forest fears;Rejoiced at length a guideHe meeteth unawares.

Desert-ThoughtsI hold with them who seeNor only idly standThe deed of thought to beWorth many deeds of hand.

Desert-Thoughts

I hold with them who see

Nor only idly stand

The deed of thought to be

Worth many deeds of hand.

Ever as we journey sinkThe old behind the new,And Heav’n commands we thinkAs justly as we do.

Ever as we journey sink

The old behind the new,

And Heav’n commands we think

As justly as we do.

One golden virtue moreThan virtue we must prize,One iron duty moreThan duty, to be wise.

One golden virtue more

Than virtue we must prize,

One iron duty more

Than duty, to be wise.

Who to himself hath said,‘This chamber must be closed;This tract of truth I dread,This darkness God-imposed

Who to himself hath said,

‘This chamber must be closed;

This tract of truth I dread,

This darkness God-imposed

May not be lifted,’ keepsAn ever-open doorThro’ which deception creeps,Confounding more and more,

May not be lifted,’ keeps

An ever-open door

Thro’ which deception creeps,

Confounding more and more,

Until to wild extremesOf falsehood driv’n he dies,Intoxicate with dreamsAnd drunk with a thousand lies.

Until to wild extremes

Of falsehood driv’n he dies,

Intoxicate with dreams

And drunk with a thousand lies.

And more if he have takenA secret lie for friend,He shall be found forsaken,And terrible his end.

And more if he have taken

A secret lie for friend,

He shall be found forsaken,

And terrible his end.

So one doth travelling ride;A dreadful forest fears;Rejoiced at length a guideHe meeteth unawares.

So one doth travelling ride;

A dreadful forest fears;

Rejoiced at length a guide

He meeteth unawares.

With thunder overthrownDay dies in solitude;The guide, a monster grown,Devours him in the wood.Idle and base the cry‘If it be so, so be it;But if it be so, then IWill look not lest I see it.’Or this, ‘If it be soWe lose this thing or that;’Twere better not to know.’The lightning spareth notThe timorous soul who hidesHis head in danger thus:The iron fact abides;Things were not made for us.Who answers, who repines?Not he who works in love,But he who thinks divinesThe thing he cannot prove.He takes his stand and rollsThe phrase he hopes for Heav’n,But cheats the hungry soulsAnd gives them bread of leav’n.His ears are filled with wax,His bandaged eyeballs blind,And yet no doubts perplex,And he can see the wind.Though all in science good,By incessant question found,Beyond it strayed we broodAnd argue round and round;And where we hoped the end,Such distance we have come,Amazed we only findThe point we started from;

With thunder overthrownDay dies in solitude;The guide, a monster grown,Devours him in the wood.

With thunder overthrown

Day dies in solitude;

The guide, a monster grown,

Devours him in the wood.

Idle and base the cry‘If it be so, so be it;But if it be so, then IWill look not lest I see it.’

Idle and base the cry

‘If it be so, so be it;

But if it be so, then I

Will look not lest I see it.’

Or this, ‘If it be soWe lose this thing or that;’Twere better not to know.’The lightning spareth not

Or this, ‘If it be so

We lose this thing or that;

’Twere better not to know.’

The lightning spareth not

The timorous soul who hidesHis head in danger thus:The iron fact abides;Things were not made for us.

The timorous soul who hides

His head in danger thus:

The iron fact abides;

Things were not made for us.

Who answers, who repines?Not he who works in love,But he who thinks divinesThe thing he cannot prove.

Who answers, who repines?

Not he who works in love,

But he who thinks divines

The thing he cannot prove.

He takes his stand and rollsThe phrase he hopes for Heav’n,But cheats the hungry soulsAnd gives them bread of leav’n.

He takes his stand and rolls

The phrase he hopes for Heav’n,

But cheats the hungry souls

And gives them bread of leav’n.

His ears are filled with wax,His bandaged eyeballs blind,And yet no doubts perplex,And he can see the wind.

His ears are filled with wax,

His bandaged eyeballs blind,

And yet no doubts perplex,

And he can see the wind.

Though all in science good,By incessant question found,Beyond it strayed we broodAnd argue round and round;

Though all in science good,

By incessant question found,

Beyond it strayed we brood

And argue round and round;

And where we hoped the end,Such distance we have come,Amazed we only findThe point we started from;

And where we hoped the end,

Such distance we have come,

Amazed we only find

The point we started from;

And fancies, like the breathWe utter, do but proveA cloud above, beneath,To fog us as we move.We climb from cloud to cloudThe airy precipice;Fain would we reach to God;We fall thro’ the abyss.The vapours will not bear.Wild-clutching we are hurl’dThro’ measurements of airAgain upon the world.Clear rings the answer high,‘The mystery makes itself;The mystery is a lie;Be cleansed and know thyself.’If with unshaken will,Resolving not to strayBut to be rising still,We clamber day by dayFrom truth to truth, at last,In valleys of the nightNot lost, we know the vastAnd simple upper light,Only one labouring knows.The base, tumultuous wreckOf rock and forest shows;The summit, a single peak.So sought, so seen, so found.And what the end so high?A summit splendour crown’dBetween the earth and sky,Where with sidereal blazeThe mistless planets glow,And stars unsully’d gazeOn unpolluted snow.

And fancies, like the breathWe utter, do but proveA cloud above, beneath,To fog us as we move.

And fancies, like the breath

We utter, do but prove

A cloud above, beneath,

To fog us as we move.

We climb from cloud to cloudThe airy precipice;Fain would we reach to God;We fall thro’ the abyss.

We climb from cloud to cloud

The airy precipice;

Fain would we reach to God;

We fall thro’ the abyss.

The vapours will not bear.Wild-clutching we are hurl’dThro’ measurements of airAgain upon the world.

The vapours will not bear.

Wild-clutching we are hurl’d

Thro’ measurements of air

Again upon the world.

Clear rings the answer high,‘The mystery makes itself;The mystery is a lie;Be cleansed and know thyself.’

Clear rings the answer high,

‘The mystery makes itself;

The mystery is a lie;

Be cleansed and know thyself.’

If with unshaken will,Resolving not to strayBut to be rising still,We clamber day by day

If with unshaken will,

Resolving not to stray

But to be rising still,

We clamber day by day

From truth to truth, at last,In valleys of the nightNot lost, we know the vastAnd simple upper light,

From truth to truth, at last,

In valleys of the night

Not lost, we know the vast

And simple upper light,

Only one labouring knows.The base, tumultuous wreckOf rock and forest shows;The summit, a single peak.

Only one labouring knows.

The base, tumultuous wreck

Of rock and forest shows;

The summit, a single peak.

So sought, so seen, so found.And what the end so high?A summit splendour crown’dBetween the earth and sky,

So sought, so seen, so found.

And what the end so high?

A summit splendour crown’d

Between the earth and sky,

Where with sidereal blazeThe mistless planets glow,And stars unsully’d gazeOn unpolluted snow.

Where with sidereal blaze

The mistless planets glow,

And stars unsully’d gaze

On unpolluted snow.

No strife the vast revealsBut perfect peace indeed—The thunder of spinning wheelsAt rest in eternal speed.

No strife the vast reveals

But perfect peace indeed—

The thunder of spinning wheels

At rest in eternal speed.

The Gains of TimeLoll’d in the lap of home;Full-fed with fruits of timeRipen’d on labour’d loamBy others, since the prime;Ingrate, we give no thoughtTo all these golden thingsThe toiling past hath brought,The toiling present brings.But on this silent shoreAnd waste barbarian,We hear the engines roarAnd mind the might of man.So one in savage lands:He enters all alone;No weapon in his hands.The secret spears unthrown,The creepers lose their guile,Seeing his face, distrestThey know not why. A smile,A sign or two, a jest,And all on bended kneesWithhold the savage stroke.With beating heart he seesThe lessening steamer-smoke.He draws a power to beFrom powers sacrificed;And in his eyes we seeThe teaching of the Christ,And all the great beside,The oracles of timeFrom Delphic clefts have criedOr crasht in thundering rhyme.

The Gains of TimeLoll’d in the lap of home;Full-fed with fruits of timeRipen’d on labour’d loamBy others, since the prime;

The Gains of Time

Loll’d in the lap of home;

Full-fed with fruits of time

Ripen’d on labour’d loam

By others, since the prime;

Ingrate, we give no thoughtTo all these golden thingsThe toiling past hath brought,The toiling present brings.

Ingrate, we give no thought

To all these golden things

The toiling past hath brought,

The toiling present brings.

But on this silent shoreAnd waste barbarian,We hear the engines roarAnd mind the might of man.

But on this silent shore

And waste barbarian,

We hear the engines roar

And mind the might of man.

So one in savage lands:He enters all alone;No weapon in his hands.The secret spears unthrown,

So one in savage lands:

He enters all alone;

No weapon in his hands.

The secret spears unthrown,

The creepers lose their guile,Seeing his face, distrestThey know not why. A smile,A sign or two, a jest,

The creepers lose their guile,

Seeing his face, distrest

They know not why. A smile,

A sign or two, a jest,

And all on bended kneesWithhold the savage stroke.With beating heart he seesThe lessening steamer-smoke.

And all on bended knees

Withhold the savage stroke.

With beating heart he sees

The lessening steamer-smoke.

He draws a power to beFrom powers sacrificed;And in his eyes we seeThe teaching of the Christ,

He draws a power to be

From powers sacrificed;

And in his eyes we see

The teaching of the Christ,

And all the great beside,The oracles of timeFrom Delphic clefts have criedOr crasht in thundering rhyme.

And all the great beside,

The oracles of time

From Delphic clefts have cried

Or crasht in thundering rhyme.

A book his finger parts;He moves thro’ adverse cries;Master of many artsAnd careless of the skies.What are thy mighty deeds,O Past, thy gains, O Time?A dust of ruin’d creeds,A scroll or two of rhyme?A temple earthquake-dasht?A false record of things?A picture lightning-flashtOf cruel eyes of kings?No, these: a wiser rule;A science of ampler span;A heart more pitiful;More mind; a nobler man.

A book his finger parts;He moves thro’ adverse cries;Master of many artsAnd careless of the skies.

A book his finger parts;

He moves thro’ adverse cries;

Master of many arts

And careless of the skies.

What are thy mighty deeds,O Past, thy gains, O Time?A dust of ruin’d creeds,A scroll or two of rhyme?

What are thy mighty deeds,

O Past, thy gains, O Time?

A dust of ruin’d creeds,

A scroll or two of rhyme?

A temple earthquake-dasht?A false record of things?A picture lightning-flashtOf cruel eyes of kings?

A temple earthquake-dasht?

A false record of things?

A picture lightning-flasht

Of cruel eyes of kings?

No, these: a wiser rule;A science of ampler span;A heart more pitiful;More mind; a nobler man.

No, these: a wiser rule;

A science of ampler span;

A heart more pitiful;

More mind; a nobler man.

InvocationIThee most we honour, thee,Great Science. Hold thy way.The end thou canst not see,But in the end the day.Seek without seeking ends,And shatter without ruth;On thee our fate depends;Be faithful, keep the truth.We think it false to dreamBeyond the likely fact;We grant thee, Truth, supreme,Whatever thou exact.I pray thee, Truth, controlMy destiny distraught,And move my sightless soulIn thy high ways of thought.Hold thou my hand. I goWherever thou wilt guide,Tho’ bleak the bitter snowAnd black the mountain side.Or if thou bid’st descend,I fear not for myself,Tho’ raging thunders rendAnd lightnings lash, the gulf.My deeds I will endow,My spirit render clean,O Truth, with thee; and thouWilt make the desert green;And haply show withalThe wells that will not sink,Sweet pastures for the soul,And in the desert drink.Confounded by these briars,Thy stars will compass meAnd be the beacon firesTo light mine eyes to thee.IIBut in my state infirmThat Spirit comes and criesTo me in wrath, ‘O worm,They see not who have eyes,How thou that hast not? Know,My children drink the sun,Taking them wings to goWhere others walk or run:Yet scarcely one life-taughtCan ever rightly heedThe issue of a thoughtOr do a fruitful deed.’

InvocationIThee most we honour, thee,Great Science. Hold thy way.The end thou canst not see,But in the end the day.

Invocation

Thee most we honour, thee,

Great Science. Hold thy way.

The end thou canst not see,

But in the end the day.

Seek without seeking ends,And shatter without ruth;On thee our fate depends;Be faithful, keep the truth.

Seek without seeking ends,

And shatter without ruth;

On thee our fate depends;

Be faithful, keep the truth.

We think it false to dreamBeyond the likely fact;We grant thee, Truth, supreme,Whatever thou exact.

We think it false to dream

Beyond the likely fact;

We grant thee, Truth, supreme,

Whatever thou exact.

I pray thee, Truth, controlMy destiny distraught,And move my sightless soulIn thy high ways of thought.

I pray thee, Truth, control

My destiny distraught,

And move my sightless soul

In thy high ways of thought.

Hold thou my hand. I goWherever thou wilt guide,Tho’ bleak the bitter snowAnd black the mountain side.

Hold thou my hand. I go

Wherever thou wilt guide,

Tho’ bleak the bitter snow

And black the mountain side.

Or if thou bid’st descend,I fear not for myself,Tho’ raging thunders rendAnd lightnings lash, the gulf.

Or if thou bid’st descend,

I fear not for myself,

Tho’ raging thunders rend

And lightnings lash, the gulf.

My deeds I will endow,My spirit render clean,O Truth, with thee; and thouWilt make the desert green;

My deeds I will endow,

My spirit render clean,

O Truth, with thee; and thou

Wilt make the desert green;

And haply show withalThe wells that will not sink,Sweet pastures for the soul,And in the desert drink.

And haply show withal

The wells that will not sink,

Sweet pastures for the soul,

And in the desert drink.

Confounded by these briars,Thy stars will compass meAnd be the beacon firesTo light mine eyes to thee.II

Confounded by these briars,

Thy stars will compass me

And be the beacon fires

To light mine eyes to thee.

But in my state infirmThat Spirit comes and criesTo me in wrath, ‘O worm,They see not who have eyes,

But in my state infirm

That Spirit comes and cries

To me in wrath, ‘O worm,

They see not who have eyes,

How thou that hast not? Know,My children drink the sun,Taking them wings to goWhere others walk or run:

How thou that hast not? Know,

My children drink the sun,

Taking them wings to go

Where others walk or run:

Yet scarcely one life-taughtCan ever rightly heedThe issue of a thoughtOr do a fruitful deed.’

Yet scarcely one life-taught

Can ever rightly heed

The issue of a thought

Or do a fruitful deed.’

DespairsII call no curse on fate,I call no curse on thee,O barren bitter stateOf exile, such to me.I would but only this:I wish that I could goAnd see the thing that is,And, seeing, better know;And take things in my handAnd find if false or fit;But in this far-off landWhat hope is there of it?There is no hope of it;I see but sad despair,Unless it may be writGod cureth care by care.So one in prison thrust;He ages span by span,But in the prison dustBecomes a better man.So one is blind from birth;All day he sitteth still;He cannot see the earth,But heaven when he will.III thought that I might riseAnd, looking to the stars,Lift up my blinded eyesAnd bless God unawares,

DespairsII call no curse on fate,I call no curse on thee,O barren bitter stateOf exile, such to me.

Despairs

I call no curse on fate,

I call no curse on thee,

O barren bitter state

Of exile, such to me.

I would but only this:I wish that I could goAnd see the thing that is,And, seeing, better know;

I would but only this:

I wish that I could go

And see the thing that is,

And, seeing, better know;

And take things in my handAnd find if false or fit;But in this far-off landWhat hope is there of it?

And take things in my hand

And find if false or fit;

But in this far-off land

What hope is there of it?

There is no hope of it;I see but sad despair,Unless it may be writGod cureth care by care.

There is no hope of it;

I see but sad despair,

Unless it may be writ

God cureth care by care.

So one in prison thrust;He ages span by span,But in the prison dustBecomes a better man.

So one in prison thrust;

He ages span by span,

But in the prison dust

Becomes a better man.

So one is blind from birth;All day he sitteth still;He cannot see the earth,But heaven when he will.II

So one is blind from birth;

All day he sitteth still;

He cannot see the earth,

But heaven when he will.

I thought that I might riseAnd, looking to the stars,Lift up my blinded eyesAnd bless God unawares,

I thought that I might rise

And, looking to the stars,

Lift up my blinded eyes

And bless God unawares,

In words whose merit this—Poor buds of blighting air—To know no lovelinessBut breathe the scent of prayer;Since Heaven hath decreedWho suffers lives with God,And he who writes indeedMust write in his own bloodI thought, tho’ fetter’d fast,I yet might move my handsTo cast or to recastSome labour—sift the sandsFor knowledge—search the vastSome hidden hope to find—Perhaps to help at lastThe cause of humankind.O hope abandon’d! NotIn me the worth or wit.God gave this lowly lotBecause I merit it.In humble ways I moveMyself to little things;The heated hands I prove,I watch the light that springsOr fades in fever’d eyes;My only solace here,Not to be rich or wiseBut to have done with fear.God sees the silent spaceWhere footstep never trod;And in the lonely placeThe listener is God.

In words whose merit this—Poor buds of blighting air—To know no lovelinessBut breathe the scent of prayer;

In words whose merit this—

Poor buds of blighting air—

To know no loveliness

But breathe the scent of prayer;

Since Heaven hath decreedWho suffers lives with God,And he who writes indeedMust write in his own blood

Since Heaven hath decreed

Who suffers lives with God,

And he who writes indeed

Must write in his own blood

I thought, tho’ fetter’d fast,I yet might move my handsTo cast or to recastSome labour—sift the sands

I thought, tho’ fetter’d fast,

I yet might move my hands

To cast or to recast

Some labour—sift the sands

For knowledge—search the vastSome hidden hope to find—Perhaps to help at lastThe cause of humankind.

For knowledge—search the vast

Some hidden hope to find—

Perhaps to help at last

The cause of humankind.

O hope abandon’d! NotIn me the worth or wit.God gave this lowly lotBecause I merit it.

O hope abandon’d! Not

In me the worth or wit.

God gave this lowly lot

Because I merit it.

In humble ways I moveMyself to little things;The heated hands I prove,I watch the light that springs

In humble ways I move

Myself to little things;

The heated hands I prove,

I watch the light that springs

Or fades in fever’d eyes;My only solace here,Not to be rich or wiseBut to have done with fear.

Or fades in fever’d eyes;

My only solace here,

Not to be rich or wise

But to have done with fear.

God sees the silent spaceWhere footstep never trod;And in the lonely placeThe listener is God.

God sees the silent space

Where footstep never trod;

And in the lonely place

The listener is God.

IndurationDeep, deep in league with Fate,Fate fast in league with Sorrow,And Sorrow with my state,I would that I could borrow,O Deep, a depth from thee,O Fate, thy fixèd calm,O Sorrow, what to meThou givest not, thy balm;That I might worthier showA scorn of your controls,And let Misfortune knowIron chains make iron souls.If chain’d we could but takeContagion from the steel,And wisdom’s mantle shakeAround us head to heel,And chill the eyes and restNo longer violent,The steel, still more imprest,Would banish discontent.The strongest chains are burstWhen we have done with care;A joy lives in the worst,A gladness in despair.So when great clouds all nightHold high debate of thunderIn awful tones that frightThe huddled cities under;

IndurationDeep, deep in league with Fate,Fate fast in league with Sorrow,And Sorrow with my state,I would that I could borrow,

Induration

Deep, deep in league with Fate,

Fate fast in league with Sorrow,

And Sorrow with my state,

I would that I could borrow,

O Deep, a depth from thee,O Fate, thy fixèd calm,O Sorrow, what to meThou givest not, thy balm;

O Deep, a depth from thee,

O Fate, thy fixèd calm,

O Sorrow, what to me

Thou givest not, thy balm;

That I might worthier showA scorn of your controls,And let Misfortune knowIron chains make iron souls.

That I might worthier show

A scorn of your controls,

And let Misfortune know

Iron chains make iron souls.

If chain’d we could but takeContagion from the steel,And wisdom’s mantle shakeAround us head to heel,

If chain’d we could but take

Contagion from the steel,

And wisdom’s mantle shake

Around us head to heel,

And chill the eyes and restNo longer violent,The steel, still more imprest,Would banish discontent.

And chill the eyes and rest

No longer violent,

The steel, still more imprest,

Would banish discontent.

The strongest chains are burstWhen we have done with care;A joy lives in the worst,A gladness in despair.

The strongest chains are burst

When we have done with care;

A joy lives in the worst,

A gladness in despair.

So when great clouds all nightHold high debate of thunderIn awful tones that frightThe huddled cities under;

So when great clouds all night

Hold high debate of thunder

In awful tones that fright

The huddled cities under;

And roar their rage and moveAbout the breadths of space,And sudden flashes proveThe madness in their face;At length, when break of dayShows heav’nly peace newborn,They muttering melt awayBefore the might of morn.

And roar their rage and moveAbout the breadths of space,And sudden flashes proveThe madness in their face;

And roar their rage and move

About the breadths of space,

And sudden flashes prove

The madness in their face;

At length, when break of dayShows heav’nly peace newborn,They muttering melt awayBefore the might of morn.

At length, when break of day

Shows heav’nly peace newborn,

They muttering melt away

Before the might of morn.

Wisdom’s CounselIBut Wisdom wearying said,‘I know a nobler way.Let Fate with Sorrow wedAnd give the Deep his day;But turn thine eyes and seeWith some more love sincereThe prisoners that with theeAre also dungeon’d here—The pale flower in the chink,The spider at the grate,The bird that comes to drinkHis tollage from thy plate.’Grief, sitting sad’ning stillWith cold eyes inward cast,Looks round the empty willAnd dreary chambers vastOf thought. She cannot sit;She loathes her selfish tears;She looks once more without,And lo! worse grief appears.Her tears bechidden freeze;She watches the world’s need,And deeper sorrow sees,And that that weeps indeed.There is no miseryAttired in mourning wear,Worse misery may not see,And that that goeth bare.We have no heavy crossTo some one’s is not small;We weep no heavy lossBut some one weeps his all;And not the grief unseen,And not the aching mind,Cries like the sorrow seenAnd shivering in the wind.IIHalf stun’d I look aroundAnd see a land of death—Dead bones that walk the groundAnd dead bones underneath;A race of wretches caughtBetween the palms of NeedAnd rub’d to utter naught,The chaff of human seed;And all like stricken leaves,Despondent multitudesThe wind of winter drivesAbout the broken woods.The toiler tills the field,But at his bosom coil’dThe blood-leach makes him yieldThe pence for which he toil’d,And grows and drops off fatFrom these poor breathless ones,Who know not this or thatBut work themselves to bones;And this one fever’d flags,And that one hopeless tries,Or uncomplaining dragsA giant leg, and dies.

Wisdom’s CounselIBut Wisdom wearying said,‘I know a nobler way.Let Fate with Sorrow wedAnd give the Deep his day;

Wisdom’s Counsel

But Wisdom wearying said,

‘I know a nobler way.

Let Fate with Sorrow wed

And give the Deep his day;

But turn thine eyes and seeWith some more love sincereThe prisoners that with theeAre also dungeon’d here—

But turn thine eyes and see

With some more love sincere

The prisoners that with thee

Are also dungeon’d here—

The pale flower in the chink,The spider at the grate,The bird that comes to drinkHis tollage from thy plate.’

The pale flower in the chink,

The spider at the grate,

The bird that comes to drink

His tollage from thy plate.’

Grief, sitting sad’ning stillWith cold eyes inward cast,Looks round the empty willAnd dreary chambers vast

Grief, sitting sad’ning still

With cold eyes inward cast,

Looks round the empty will

And dreary chambers vast

Of thought. She cannot sit;She loathes her selfish tears;She looks once more without,And lo! worse grief appears.

Of thought. She cannot sit;

She loathes her selfish tears;

She looks once more without,

And lo! worse grief appears.

Her tears bechidden freeze;She watches the world’s need,And deeper sorrow sees,And that that weeps indeed.

Her tears bechidden freeze;

She watches the world’s need,

And deeper sorrow sees,

And that that weeps indeed.

There is no miseryAttired in mourning wear,Worse misery may not see,And that that goeth bare.

There is no misery

Attired in mourning wear,

Worse misery may not see,

And that that goeth bare.

We have no heavy crossTo some one’s is not small;We weep no heavy lossBut some one weeps his all;

We have no heavy cross

To some one’s is not small;

We weep no heavy loss

But some one weeps his all;

And not the grief unseen,And not the aching mind,Cries like the sorrow seenAnd shivering in the wind.II

And not the grief unseen,

And not the aching mind,

Cries like the sorrow seen

And shivering in the wind.

Half stun’d I look aroundAnd see a land of death—Dead bones that walk the groundAnd dead bones underneath;

Half stun’d I look around

And see a land of death—

Dead bones that walk the ground

And dead bones underneath;

A race of wretches caughtBetween the palms of NeedAnd rub’d to utter naught,The chaff of human seed;

A race of wretches caught

Between the palms of Need

And rub’d to utter naught,

The chaff of human seed;

And all like stricken leaves,Despondent multitudesThe wind of winter drivesAbout the broken woods.

And all like stricken leaves,

Despondent multitudes

The wind of winter drives

About the broken woods.

The toiler tills the field,But at his bosom coil’dThe blood-leach makes him yieldThe pence for which he toil’d,

The toiler tills the field,

But at his bosom coil’d

The blood-leach makes him yield

The pence for which he toil’d,

And grows and drops off fatFrom these poor breathless ones,Who know not this or thatBut work themselves to bones;

And grows and drops off fat

From these poor breathless ones,

Who know not this or that

But work themselves to bones;

And this one fever’d flags,And that one hopeless tries,Or uncomplaining dragsA giant leg, and dies.

And this one fever’d flags,

And that one hopeless tries,

Or uncomplaining drags

A giant leg, and dies.

ImpatienceVain drug! If I am sickCan others’ sickness heal?Or dead, death make me quick?I care not what they feel.What reck I? Let me go.Is not my bosom full?The sorrow that I knowMakes others’ sorrow dull.I will shut up the soul,For only joy is just.Stones with the river roll,And we ev’n as we must.Why should I think of thee,O Wisdom, and thy lies?Better laugh and foolish beThan laugh not and be wise.The wild-birds heed thee not;Of thee no torrents roar;The deep seas know no jotOf all thy little lore;But man who cannot ’scapeTo follow thee and trust,Thou takest by the napeAnd grindest in the dust.

ImpatienceVain drug! If I am sickCan others’ sickness heal?Or dead, death make me quick?I care not what they feel.

Impatience

Vain drug! If I am sick

Can others’ sickness heal?

Or dead, death make me quick?

I care not what they feel.

What reck I? Let me go.Is not my bosom full?The sorrow that I knowMakes others’ sorrow dull.

What reck I? Let me go.

Is not my bosom full?

The sorrow that I know

Makes others’ sorrow dull.

I will shut up the soul,For only joy is just.Stones with the river roll,And we ev’n as we must.

I will shut up the soul,

For only joy is just.

Stones with the river roll,

And we ev’n as we must.

Why should I think of thee,O Wisdom, and thy lies?Better laugh and foolish beThan laugh not and be wise.

Why should I think of thee,

O Wisdom, and thy lies?

Better laugh and foolish be

Than laugh not and be wise.

The wild-birds heed thee not;Of thee no torrents roar;The deep seas know no jotOf all thy little lore;

The wild-birds heed thee not;

Of thee no torrents roar;

The deep seas know no jot

Of all thy little lore;

But man who cannot ’scapeTo follow thee and trust,Thou takest by the napeAnd grindest in the dust.

But man who cannot ’scape

To follow thee and trust,

Thou takest by the nape

And grindest in the dust.

World-SorrowsILo! here accursèd casteHath made men things that creep;The beggars totter past,The baser sultans sleep;The limping lepers crawl,The tricking traders cheat;The lean ones cry and fall,The fat ones curse and beat;Never hath freedom’s cryThe stifling stillness cleaved;The hopeless millions dieThat yet have never lived.No noble god of earth,Man can but snatch and eat;Starvation murders worth,Wealth makes the beast complete.What horror here! Is thisThy revelation, Truth?I shake at the abyss.What hunger, rage, and ruth,How hopeless! Heaven, we menAre not the gods we think!—Base pismires of the fenThat fight and bite and sink.IIO myriad-childed Mother,Sitting among their gravesWho thee and one anotherHave made for ever slaves,

World-SorrowsILo! here accursèd casteHath made men things that creep;The beggars totter past,The baser sultans sleep;

World-Sorrows

Lo! here accursèd caste

Hath made men things that creep;

The beggars totter past,

The baser sultans sleep;

The limping lepers crawl,The tricking traders cheat;The lean ones cry and fall,The fat ones curse and beat;

The limping lepers crawl,

The tricking traders cheat;

The lean ones cry and fall,

The fat ones curse and beat;

Never hath freedom’s cryThe stifling stillness cleaved;The hopeless millions dieThat yet have never lived.

Never hath freedom’s cry

The stifling stillness cleaved;

The hopeless millions die

That yet have never lived.

No noble god of earth,Man can but snatch and eat;Starvation murders worth,Wealth makes the beast complete.

No noble god of earth,

Man can but snatch and eat;

Starvation murders worth,

Wealth makes the beast complete.

What horror here! Is thisThy revelation, Truth?I shake at the abyss.What hunger, rage, and ruth,

What horror here! Is this

Thy revelation, Truth?

I shake at the abyss.

What hunger, rage, and ruth,

How hopeless! Heaven, we menAre not the gods we think!—Base pismires of the fenThat fight and bite and sink.

How hopeless! Heaven, we men

Are not the gods we think!—

Base pismires of the fen

That fight and bite and sink.

O myriad-childed Mother,Sitting among their gravesWho thee and one anotherHave made for ever slaves,

O myriad-childed Mother,

Sitting among their graves

Who thee and one another

Have made for ever slaves,

Great East; O aged Mother,Too old for Fear and Hope—Fear that is Pleasure’s brother,And Sorrow’s sister, Hope—As erst in ages gone,So now, thou art half dead,Thy countenance turned to stoneBy an eternal dread.With lips that dare not moveAnd awful lids apart,While yet faint pulses proveThe life about thy heart,Thou sitt’st at dreadful gazeInto the dreadful Vast:For thou canst well appraiseThe future by the past,Where thou beholdest DeathConfound and desolate,And men like ants beneathThe giant feet of Fate.IIIAre these thy mighty deeds,O Past, thy gains, O Time?This wrack of ruin’d creeds,This scroll or two of rhyme?—A temple earthquake-dasht;A false record of things;A picture, lightning-flasht,Of cruel eyes of kings;A mangled race that bleedsIn cruel custom’s claws,Besotted by their creeds,And murder’d by their laws?

Great East; O aged Mother,Too old for Fear and Hope—Fear that is Pleasure’s brother,And Sorrow’s sister, Hope—

Great East; O aged Mother,

Too old for Fear and Hope—

Fear that is Pleasure’s brother,

And Sorrow’s sister, Hope—

As erst in ages gone,So now, thou art half dead,Thy countenance turned to stoneBy an eternal dread.

As erst in ages gone,

So now, thou art half dead,

Thy countenance turned to stone

By an eternal dread.

With lips that dare not moveAnd awful lids apart,While yet faint pulses proveThe life about thy heart,

With lips that dare not move

And awful lids apart,

While yet faint pulses prove

The life about thy heart,

Thou sitt’st at dreadful gazeInto the dreadful Vast:For thou canst well appraiseThe future by the past,

Thou sitt’st at dreadful gaze

Into the dreadful Vast:

For thou canst well appraise

The future by the past,

Where thou beholdest DeathConfound and desolate,And men like ants beneathThe giant feet of Fate.III

Where thou beholdest Death

Confound and desolate,

And men like ants beneath

The giant feet of Fate.

III

Are these thy mighty deeds,O Past, thy gains, O Time?This wrack of ruin’d creeds,This scroll or two of rhyme?—

Are these thy mighty deeds,

O Past, thy gains, O Time?

This wrack of ruin’d creeds,

This scroll or two of rhyme?—

A temple earthquake-dasht;A false record of things;A picture, lightning-flasht,Of cruel eyes of kings;

A temple earthquake-dasht;

A false record of things;

A picture, lightning-flasht,

Of cruel eyes of kings;

A mangled race that bleedsIn cruel custom’s claws,Besotted by their creeds,And murder’d by their laws?

A mangled race that bleeds

In cruel custom’s claws,

Besotted by their creeds,

And murder’d by their laws?

Right easily understoodFate’s lesson is, tho’ slow;She takes a nation’s bloodTo jot a word or two.And for sufficient spaceTo write a line of hers,She wipes away a raceAnd dashes down the verse,And cries, ‘So much to each,And man may mark or not;But what I choose to teachShall never be forgot.’

Right easily understoodFate’s lesson is, tho’ slow;She takes a nation’s bloodTo jot a word or two.

Right easily understood

Fate’s lesson is, tho’ slow;

She takes a nation’s blood

To jot a word or two.

And for sufficient spaceTo write a line of hers,She wipes away a raceAnd dashes down the verse,

And for sufficient space

To write a line of hers,

She wipes away a race

And dashes down the verse,

And cries, ‘So much to each,And man may mark or not;But what I choose to teachShall never be forgot.’

And cries, ‘So much to each,

And man may mark or not;

But what I choose to teach

Shall never be forgot.’

PhilosophiesIIf it be not to be,Or being be in vain,That high philosophyShall ever counsel menTo mend this mindless stateIn which, as in the East,We drift on floods of fate,As helpless as the beast,Then here the issue is—Look on this land and weep—A race as ruin’d as this,A misery as deep.IISeeing how pent we areWithin our human ways,That save in ceaseless warWe cannot spend our days,In struggle each with eachTo get a breathing space,While Heaven, out of reach,Looks on with scornful face;I wonder, for man’s sake,Cannot that mind of hisWhich made the engine makeA better state than this?Here sitting in my placeThere comes to me unsoughtThe beautiful sad faceOf this undying thought.

PhilosophiesIIf it be not to be,Or being be in vain,That high philosophyShall ever counsel men

Philosophies

If it be not to be,

Or being be in vain,

That high philosophy

Shall ever counsel men

To mend this mindless stateIn which, as in the East,We drift on floods of fate,As helpless as the beast,

To mend this mindless state

In which, as in the East,

We drift on floods of fate,

As helpless as the beast,

Then here the issue is—Look on this land and weep—A race as ruin’d as this,A misery as deep.

Then here the issue is—

Look on this land and weep—

A race as ruin’d as this,

A misery as deep.

Seeing how pent we areWithin our human ways,That save in ceaseless warWe cannot spend our days,

Seeing how pent we are

Within our human ways,

That save in ceaseless war

We cannot spend our days,

In struggle each with eachTo get a breathing space,While Heaven, out of reach,Looks on with scornful face;

In struggle each with each

To get a breathing space,

While Heaven, out of reach,

Looks on with scornful face;

I wonder, for man’s sake,Cannot that mind of hisWhich made the engine makeA better state than this?

I wonder, for man’s sake,

Cannot that mind of his

Which made the engine make

A better state than this?

Here sitting in my placeThere comes to me unsoughtThe beautiful sad faceOf this undying thought.

Here sitting in my place

There comes to me unsought

The beautiful sad face

Of this undying thought.

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