Chapter 21

THE METEMPSYCHOSIS

I know my own creation was divine.Strewn on the breezy continents I seeThe veined shells and burnished scales which onceEnclosed my being,—husks that had their use;I brood on all the shapes I must attainBefore I reach the Perfect, which is God,And dream my dreams and let the rabble go;For I am of the mountains and the seaThe deserts, and the caverns in the earthThe catacombs and fragments of old worlds.I was ere Romulus and Remus were;I was ere Nineveh and Babylon;I was and am, and evermore shall be,Progressing, never reaching to the end.A hundred years I trembled in the grass;Under the earth in fragrant glooms I dwelt,There in the veins and sinews of a pineOn a lone isle, where ...... to and fro I swayed,Drawing the sunlight from the stooping clouds.Suns came and went, and many a mystic moon;Wild music, and strange shadows floated bySome moaning and some singing. So the yearsClustered about me till the hand of GodLet down the lightning from a sultry sky,Splintered the pine and split the iron rock;And from my odorous prison house a bird,I in its bosom, darted; so we flew,Turning the brittle edge of one high waveIsland and tree and sea-gods left behind!A century was a single day.What is a day to an immortal soul?A breath, no more. And yet I hold one hourBeyond all price—that hour when from the skyI circled near and nearer to the earth,Nearer and nearer, till I brushed my wingsAgainst the pointed chestnut trees,...... and there,Gathering wild flowers in a cool ravine,Wandered a woman more divinely shapedThan any of the creatures of the air,Or river-goddesses, or restless shadesOf noble matrons marvellous in their timeFor beauty and great suffering; and I sung,I charmed her thought, I gave her dreams, and thenDown from the dewy atmosphere I stoleAnd nestled in her bosom. There I sleptFrom moon to moon, while in her eyes a thoughtGrew sweet and sweeter, deepening like thedawn—A mystical forewarning! When the stream,Breaking through leafless brambles and dead leaves,Piped shriller treble and from chestnut-boughsThe fruit dropt noiseless through the autumn night,I gave a low, quick cry as infants do:We weep when we are born, not when we die!So was it destined; and thus came I here,To walk the earth and wear the form of Man,To suffer bravely as becomes my state,One step, one grade, one cycle nearer God.Thomas Bailey Aldrich.

I know my own creation was divine.

Strewn on the breezy continents I see

The veined shells and burnished scales which once

Enclosed my being,—husks that had their use;

I brood on all the shapes I must attain

Before I reach the Perfect, which is God,

And dream my dreams and let the rabble go;

For I am of the mountains and the sea

The deserts, and the caverns in the earth

The catacombs and fragments of old worlds.

I was ere Romulus and Remus were;

I was ere Nineveh and Babylon;

I was and am, and evermore shall be,

Progressing, never reaching to the end.

A hundred years I trembled in the grass;

Under the earth in fragrant glooms I dwelt,

There in the veins and sinews of a pine

On a lone isle, where ...

... to and fro I swayed,

Drawing the sunlight from the stooping clouds.

Suns came and went, and many a mystic moon;

Wild music, and strange shadows floated by

Some moaning and some singing. So the years

Clustered about me till the hand of God

Let down the lightning from a sultry sky,

Splintered the pine and split the iron rock;

And from my odorous prison house a bird,

I in its bosom, darted; so we flew,

Turning the brittle edge of one high wave

Island and tree and sea-gods left behind!

A century was a single day.

What is a day to an immortal soul?

A breath, no more. And yet I hold one hour

Beyond all price—that hour when from the sky

I circled near and nearer to the earth,

Nearer and nearer, till I brushed my wings

Against the pointed chestnut trees,...

... and there,

Gathering wild flowers in a cool ravine,

Wandered a woman more divinely shaped

Than any of the creatures of the air,

Or river-goddesses, or restless shades

Of noble matrons marvellous in their time

For beauty and great suffering; and I sung,

I charmed her thought, I gave her dreams, and then

Down from the dewy atmosphere I stole

And nestled in her bosom. There I slept

From moon to moon, while in her eyes a thought

Grew sweet and sweeter, deepening like thedawn—

A mystical forewarning! When the stream,

Breaking through leafless brambles and dead leaves,

Piped shriller treble and from chestnut-boughs

The fruit dropt noiseless through the autumn night,

I gave a low, quick cry as infants do:

We weep when we are born, not when we die!

So was it destined; and thus came I here,

To walk the earth and wear the form of Man,

To suffer bravely as becomes my state,

One step, one grade, one cycle nearer God.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich.

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