X.* * * * *If after all we should mistake,And so renounce life for the sakeOf death and nothing else? You hearOur friends we jeered at, send the jeerBack to ourselves with good effect—“There were my beetles to collect!“My box—a trifle, I confess,“But here I hold it, ne’ertheless!”Poor idiots, (let us pluck up heartAnd answer) we, the better partHave chosen, though ’twere only hope,—Nor envy moles like you that gropeAmid your veritable muck,More than the grasshoppers would truck,For yours, their passionate life away,That spends itself in leaps all dayTo reach the sun, you want the eyesTo see, as they the wings to riseAnd match the noble hearts of them!Thus the contemner we contemn,—And, when doubt strikes us, thus we wardIts stroke off, caught upon our guard,—Not struck enough to overturnOur faith, but shake it—make us learnWhat I began with, and, I wis,End, having proved,—how hard it isTo be a Christian!
X.* * * * *If after all we should mistake,And so renounce life for the sakeOf death and nothing else? You hearOur friends we jeered at, send the jeerBack to ourselves with good effect—“There were my beetles to collect!“My box—a trifle, I confess,“But here I hold it, ne’ertheless!”Poor idiots, (let us pluck up heartAnd answer) we, the better partHave chosen, though ’twere only hope,—Nor envy moles like you that gropeAmid your veritable muck,More than the grasshoppers would truck,For yours, their passionate life away,That spends itself in leaps all dayTo reach the sun, you want the eyesTo see, as they the wings to riseAnd match the noble hearts of them!Thus the contemner we contemn,—And, when doubt strikes us, thus we wardIts stroke off, caught upon our guard,—Not struck enough to overturnOur faith, but shake it—make us learnWhat I began with, and, I wis,End, having proved,—how hard it isTo be a Christian!
X.
X.
* * * * *
* * * * *
If after all we should mistake,And so renounce life for the sakeOf death and nothing else? You hearOur friends we jeered at, send the jeerBack to ourselves with good effect—“There were my beetles to collect!“My box—a trifle, I confess,“But here I hold it, ne’ertheless!”Poor idiots, (let us pluck up heartAnd answer) we, the better partHave chosen, though ’twere only hope,—Nor envy moles like you that gropeAmid your veritable muck,More than the grasshoppers would truck,For yours, their passionate life away,That spends itself in leaps all dayTo reach the sun, you want the eyesTo see, as they the wings to riseAnd match the noble hearts of them!Thus the contemner we contemn,—And, when doubt strikes us, thus we wardIts stroke off, caught upon our guard,—Not struck enough to overturnOur faith, but shake it—make us learnWhat I began with, and, I wis,End, having proved,—how hard it isTo be a Christian!
If after all we should mistake,
And so renounce life for the sake
Of death and nothing else? You hear
Our friends we jeered at, send the jeer
Back to ourselves with good effect—
“There were my beetles to collect!
“My box—a trifle, I confess,
“But here I hold it, ne’ertheless!”
Poor idiots, (let us pluck up heart
And answer) we, the better part
Have chosen, though ’twere only hope,—
Nor envy moles like you that grope
Amid your veritable muck,
More than the grasshoppers would truck,
For yours, their passionate life away,
That spends itself in leaps all day
To reach the sun, you want the eyes
To see, as they the wings to rise
And match the noble hearts of them!
Thus the contemner we contemn,—
And, when doubt strikes us, thus we ward
Its stroke off, caught upon our guard,
—Not struck enough to overturn
Our faith, but shake it—make us learn
What I began with, and, I wis,
End, having proved,—how hard it is
To be a Christian!
His friend now reproaches him with the thanklessness of the task he is undertaking, in trying to so little purpose to disturb the peace of a man who has no such high-flown views of duty; whereupon he relates to him a wonderful experience he had on Easter-morn three years before:—
XIV.I commenceBy trying to inform you, whenceIt comes that every Easter-nightAs now, I sit up, watch, till light,Upon those chimney-stacks and roofs,Give, through my window-pane, grey proofsThat Easter-day is breaking slow.On such a night three years ago,It chanced that I had cause to crossThe common, where the chapel was,Our friend spoke of, the other day—You’ve not forgotten, I dare say.I fell to musing of the timeSo close, the blessed matin-primeAll hearts leap up at, in some guise—One could not well do otherwise.Insensibly my thoughts were bentToward the main point; I overwentMuch the same ground of reasoningAs you and I just now. One thingRemained, however—one that taskedMy soul to answer; and I asked,Fairly and frankly, what might beThat History, that Faith, to me—Me there—not me in some domainBuilt up and peopled by my brain,Weighing its merits as one weighsMere theories for blame or praise,—The kingcraft of the Lucumons,Or Fourier’s scheme, its pros and cons,—But my faith there, or none at all.“How were my case, now, did I fall“Dead here, this minute—should I lie“Faithful or faithless?”
XIV.I commenceBy trying to inform you, whenceIt comes that every Easter-nightAs now, I sit up, watch, till light,Upon those chimney-stacks and roofs,Give, through my window-pane, grey proofsThat Easter-day is breaking slow.On such a night three years ago,It chanced that I had cause to crossThe common, where the chapel was,Our friend spoke of, the other day—You’ve not forgotten, I dare say.I fell to musing of the timeSo close, the blessed matin-primeAll hearts leap up at, in some guise—One could not well do otherwise.Insensibly my thoughts were bentToward the main point; I overwentMuch the same ground of reasoningAs you and I just now. One thingRemained, however—one that taskedMy soul to answer; and I asked,Fairly and frankly, what might beThat History, that Faith, to me—Me there—not me in some domainBuilt up and peopled by my brain,Weighing its merits as one weighsMere theories for blame or praise,—The kingcraft of the Lucumons,Or Fourier’s scheme, its pros and cons,—But my faith there, or none at all.“How were my case, now, did I fall“Dead here, this minute—should I lie“Faithful or faithless?”
XIV.
XIV.
I commenceBy trying to inform you, whenceIt comes that every Easter-nightAs now, I sit up, watch, till light,Upon those chimney-stacks and roofs,Give, through my window-pane, grey proofsThat Easter-day is breaking slow.On such a night three years ago,It chanced that I had cause to crossThe common, where the chapel was,Our friend spoke of, the other day—You’ve not forgotten, I dare say.I fell to musing of the timeSo close, the blessed matin-primeAll hearts leap up at, in some guise—One could not well do otherwise.Insensibly my thoughts were bentToward the main point; I overwentMuch the same ground of reasoningAs you and I just now. One thingRemained, however—one that taskedMy soul to answer; and I asked,Fairly and frankly, what might beThat History, that Faith, to me—Me there—not me in some domainBuilt up and peopled by my brain,Weighing its merits as one weighsMere theories for blame or praise,—The kingcraft of the Lucumons,Or Fourier’s scheme, its pros and cons,—But my faith there, or none at all.“How were my case, now, did I fall“Dead here, this minute—should I lie“Faithful or faithless?”
I commence
By trying to inform you, whence
It comes that every Easter-night
As now, I sit up, watch, till light,
Upon those chimney-stacks and roofs,
Give, through my window-pane, grey proofs
That Easter-day is breaking slow.
On such a night three years ago,
It chanced that I had cause to cross
The common, where the chapel was,
Our friend spoke of, the other day—
You’ve not forgotten, I dare say.
I fell to musing of the time
So close, the blessed matin-prime
All hearts leap up at, in some guise—
One could not well do otherwise.
Insensibly my thoughts were bent
Toward the main point; I overwent
Much the same ground of reasoning
As you and I just now. One thing
Remained, however—one that tasked
My soul to answer; and I asked,
Fairly and frankly, what might be
That History, that Faith, to me
—Me there—not me in some domain
Built up and peopled by my brain,
Weighing its merits as one weighs
Mere theories for blame or praise,
—The kingcraft of the Lucumons,
Or Fourier’s scheme, its pros and cons,—
But my faith there, or none at all.
“How were my case, now, did I fall
“Dead here, this minute—should I lie
“Faithful or faithless?”
To this solemn question a friendly answer seems to come from Common Sense, assuring him that all would be right; for, though his ship might not sail very grandly into the eternal haven, it was enough if, in whatever state of wreck, it arrived at all; which leads him to utter the deepest wish and expectation of his heart:—
Would the ship reach home!I wish indeed “God’s kingdom come—”The day when I shall see appearHis bidding, as my duty, clearFrom doubt! And it shall dawn, that day,Some future season; Easter mayProve, not impossibly, the time—Yes, that were striking—fates would chimeSo aptly! Easter-morn, to bringThe Judgment!—deeper in the springThan now, however, when there’s snowCapping the hills; for earth must showAll signs of meaning to pursueHer tasks as she was wont to do—The skylark, taken by surpriseAs we ourselves, shall recogniseSudden the end. For suddenlyIt comes; the dreadfulness must beIn that; all warrants the belief—“At night it cometh like a thief,”I fancy why the trumpet blows;—Plainly, to wake one. From reposeWe shall start up, at last awakeFrom life, that insane dream we takeFor waking now.* * * * *
Would the ship reach home!I wish indeed “God’s kingdom come—”The day when I shall see appearHis bidding, as my duty, clearFrom doubt! And it shall dawn, that day,Some future season; Easter mayProve, not impossibly, the time—Yes, that were striking—fates would chimeSo aptly! Easter-morn, to bringThe Judgment!—deeper in the springThan now, however, when there’s snowCapping the hills; for earth must showAll signs of meaning to pursueHer tasks as she was wont to do—The skylark, taken by surpriseAs we ourselves, shall recogniseSudden the end. For suddenlyIt comes; the dreadfulness must beIn that; all warrants the belief—“At night it cometh like a thief,”I fancy why the trumpet blows;—Plainly, to wake one. From reposeWe shall start up, at last awakeFrom life, that insane dream we takeFor waking now.* * * * *
Would the ship reach home!I wish indeed “God’s kingdom come—”The day when I shall see appearHis bidding, as my duty, clearFrom doubt! And it shall dawn, that day,Some future season; Easter mayProve, not impossibly, the time—Yes, that were striking—fates would chimeSo aptly! Easter-morn, to bringThe Judgment!—deeper in the springThan now, however, when there’s snowCapping the hills; for earth must showAll signs of meaning to pursueHer tasks as she was wont to do—The skylark, taken by surpriseAs we ourselves, shall recogniseSudden the end. For suddenlyIt comes; the dreadfulness must beIn that; all warrants the belief—“At night it cometh like a thief,”I fancy why the trumpet blows;—Plainly, to wake one. From reposeWe shall start up, at last awakeFrom life, that insane dream we takeFor waking now.
Would the ship reach home!
I wish indeed “God’s kingdom come—”
The day when I shall see appear
His bidding, as my duty, clear
From doubt! And it shall dawn, that day,
Some future season; Easter may
Prove, not impossibly, the time—
Yes, that were striking—fates would chime
So aptly! Easter-morn, to bring
The Judgment!—deeper in the spring
Than now, however, when there’s snow
Capping the hills; for earth must show
All signs of meaning to pursue
Her tasks as she was wont to do
—The skylark, taken by surprise
As we ourselves, shall recognise
Sudden the end. For suddenly
It comes; the dreadfulness must be
In that; all warrants the belief—
“At night it cometh like a thief,”
I fancy why the trumpet blows;
—Plainly, to wake one. From repose
We shall start up, at last awake
From life, that insane dream we take
For waking now.
* * * * *
* * * * *
The next stanza gives the famous description of the fiery aurora, when even “the south firmament with north-fire did its wings refledge!” (Compare description of lunar rainbow in “Christmas-Eve.”) He feels sure that his wish is realized, and the Judgment Day has come!
XV.* * * * *I foundSuddenly all the midnight roundOne fire. The dome of heaven had stoodAs made up of a multitudeOf handbreadth cloudlets, one vast rackOf ripples infinite and black,From sky to sky. Sudden there went,Like horror and astonishment,A fierce vindictive scribble of redQuick flame across, as if one said(The angry scribe of Judgment) “There—“Burn it!” And straight I was awareThat the whole ribwork round, minuteCloud touching cloud beyond compute,Was tinted, each with its own spotOf burning at the core, till clotJammed against clot, and spilt its fireOver all heaven, which ’gan suspireAs fanned to measure equable,—Just so great conflagrations killNight overhead, and rise and sink,Reflected. Now the fire would shrinkAnd wither off the blasted faceOf heaven, and I distinct might traceThe sharp black ridgy outlines leftUnburned like network—then, each cleftThe fire had been sucked back into,Regorged, and out it surging flewFuriously, and night writhed inflamed,Till, tolerating to be tamedNo longer, certain rays world-wideShot downwardly. On every sideCaught past escape, the earth was lit;As if a dragon’s nostril split,And all his famished ire o’erflowed;Then as he winced at his lord’s goad,Back he inhaled: whereat I foundThe clouds into vast pillars bound,Based on the corners of the earth,Propping the skies at top: a dearthOf fire i’ the violet intervals,Leaving exposed the utmost wallsOf time, about to tumble inAnd end the world.XVI.I felt beginThe Judgment-Day: to retrocedeWas too late now. “In very deed,”(I uttered to myself) “that Day!”The intuition burned awayAll darkness from my spirit too:There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew,Choosing the world. The choice was made;And naked and disguiseless stayed,And unevadable, the fact.My brain held ne’ertheless compactIts senses, nor my heart declinedIts office; rather, both combinedTo help me in this juncture. ILost not a second,—agonyGave boldness: since my life had endAnd my choice with it—best defend,Applaud both! I resolved to say,“So was I framed by thee, such way“I put to use thy senses here!“It was so beautiful, so near,“Thy world,—what could I then but choose“My part there? Nor did I refuse“To look above the transient boon“Of time; but it was hard so soon“As in a short life, to give up“Such beauty: I could put the cup“Undrained of half its fulness, by;“But, to renounce it utterly,“—That was too hard! Nor did the cry“Which bade renounce it, touch my brain“Authentically deep and plain“Enough to make my lips let go.“But thou, who knowest all, dost know“Whether I was not, life’s brief while,“Endeavouring to reconcile“Those lips (too tardily, alas!)“To letting the dear remnant pass,“One day,—some drops of earthly good“Untasted! Is it for this mood,“That thou, whose earth delights so well,“Hast made its complement a hell?”XVII.A final belch of fire like blood,Overbroke all heaven in one floodOf doom. Then fire was sky, and skyFire, and both, one brief ecstasy,Then ashes. But I heard no noise(Whatever was) because a voiceBeside me spoke thus, “Life is done,“Time ends, Eternity’s begun,“And thou art judged for evermore.”
XV.* * * * *I foundSuddenly all the midnight roundOne fire. The dome of heaven had stoodAs made up of a multitudeOf handbreadth cloudlets, one vast rackOf ripples infinite and black,From sky to sky. Sudden there went,Like horror and astonishment,A fierce vindictive scribble of redQuick flame across, as if one said(The angry scribe of Judgment) “There—“Burn it!” And straight I was awareThat the whole ribwork round, minuteCloud touching cloud beyond compute,Was tinted, each with its own spotOf burning at the core, till clotJammed against clot, and spilt its fireOver all heaven, which ’gan suspireAs fanned to measure equable,—Just so great conflagrations killNight overhead, and rise and sink,Reflected. Now the fire would shrinkAnd wither off the blasted faceOf heaven, and I distinct might traceThe sharp black ridgy outlines leftUnburned like network—then, each cleftThe fire had been sucked back into,Regorged, and out it surging flewFuriously, and night writhed inflamed,Till, tolerating to be tamedNo longer, certain rays world-wideShot downwardly. On every sideCaught past escape, the earth was lit;As if a dragon’s nostril split,And all his famished ire o’erflowed;Then as he winced at his lord’s goad,Back he inhaled: whereat I foundThe clouds into vast pillars bound,Based on the corners of the earth,Propping the skies at top: a dearthOf fire i’ the violet intervals,Leaving exposed the utmost wallsOf time, about to tumble inAnd end the world.XVI.I felt beginThe Judgment-Day: to retrocedeWas too late now. “In very deed,”(I uttered to myself) “that Day!”The intuition burned awayAll darkness from my spirit too:There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew,Choosing the world. The choice was made;And naked and disguiseless stayed,And unevadable, the fact.My brain held ne’ertheless compactIts senses, nor my heart declinedIts office; rather, both combinedTo help me in this juncture. ILost not a second,—agonyGave boldness: since my life had endAnd my choice with it—best defend,Applaud both! I resolved to say,“So was I framed by thee, such way“I put to use thy senses here!“It was so beautiful, so near,“Thy world,—what could I then but choose“My part there? Nor did I refuse“To look above the transient boon“Of time; but it was hard so soon“As in a short life, to give up“Such beauty: I could put the cup“Undrained of half its fulness, by;“But, to renounce it utterly,“—That was too hard! Nor did the cry“Which bade renounce it, touch my brain“Authentically deep and plain“Enough to make my lips let go.“But thou, who knowest all, dost know“Whether I was not, life’s brief while,“Endeavouring to reconcile“Those lips (too tardily, alas!)“To letting the dear remnant pass,“One day,—some drops of earthly good“Untasted! Is it for this mood,“That thou, whose earth delights so well,“Hast made its complement a hell?”XVII.A final belch of fire like blood,Overbroke all heaven in one floodOf doom. Then fire was sky, and skyFire, and both, one brief ecstasy,Then ashes. But I heard no noise(Whatever was) because a voiceBeside me spoke thus, “Life is done,“Time ends, Eternity’s begun,“And thou art judged for evermore.”
XV.
XV.
* * * * *
* * * * *
I foundSuddenly all the midnight roundOne fire. The dome of heaven had stoodAs made up of a multitudeOf handbreadth cloudlets, one vast rackOf ripples infinite and black,From sky to sky. Sudden there went,Like horror and astonishment,A fierce vindictive scribble of redQuick flame across, as if one said(The angry scribe of Judgment) “There—“Burn it!” And straight I was awareThat the whole ribwork round, minuteCloud touching cloud beyond compute,Was tinted, each with its own spotOf burning at the core, till clotJammed against clot, and spilt its fireOver all heaven, which ’gan suspireAs fanned to measure equable,—Just so great conflagrations killNight overhead, and rise and sink,Reflected. Now the fire would shrinkAnd wither off the blasted faceOf heaven, and I distinct might traceThe sharp black ridgy outlines leftUnburned like network—then, each cleftThe fire had been sucked back into,Regorged, and out it surging flewFuriously, and night writhed inflamed,Till, tolerating to be tamedNo longer, certain rays world-wideShot downwardly. On every sideCaught past escape, the earth was lit;As if a dragon’s nostril split,And all his famished ire o’erflowed;Then as he winced at his lord’s goad,Back he inhaled: whereat I foundThe clouds into vast pillars bound,Based on the corners of the earth,Propping the skies at top: a dearthOf fire i’ the violet intervals,Leaving exposed the utmost wallsOf time, about to tumble inAnd end the world.
I found
Suddenly all the midnight round
One fire. The dome of heaven had stood
As made up of a multitude
Of handbreadth cloudlets, one vast rack
Of ripples infinite and black,
From sky to sky. Sudden there went,
Like horror and astonishment,
A fierce vindictive scribble of red
Quick flame across, as if one said
(The angry scribe of Judgment) “There—
“Burn it!” And straight I was aware
That the whole ribwork round, minute
Cloud touching cloud beyond compute,
Was tinted, each with its own spot
Of burning at the core, till clot
Jammed against clot, and spilt its fire
Over all heaven, which ’gan suspire
As fanned to measure equable,—
Just so great conflagrations kill
Night overhead, and rise and sink,
Reflected. Now the fire would shrink
And wither off the blasted face
Of heaven, and I distinct might trace
The sharp black ridgy outlines left
Unburned like network—then, each cleft
The fire had been sucked back into,
Regorged, and out it surging flew
Furiously, and night writhed inflamed,
Till, tolerating to be tamed
No longer, certain rays world-wide
Shot downwardly. On every side
Caught past escape, the earth was lit;
As if a dragon’s nostril split,
And all his famished ire o’erflowed;
Then as he winced at his lord’s goad,
Back he inhaled: whereat I found
The clouds into vast pillars bound,
Based on the corners of the earth,
Propping the skies at top: a dearth
Of fire i’ the violet intervals,
Leaving exposed the utmost walls
Of time, about to tumble in
And end the world.
XVI.
XVI.
I felt beginThe Judgment-Day: to retrocedeWas too late now. “In very deed,”(I uttered to myself) “that Day!”The intuition burned awayAll darkness from my spirit too:There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew,Choosing the world. The choice was made;And naked and disguiseless stayed,And unevadable, the fact.My brain held ne’ertheless compactIts senses, nor my heart declinedIts office; rather, both combinedTo help me in this juncture. ILost not a second,—agonyGave boldness: since my life had endAnd my choice with it—best defend,Applaud both! I resolved to say,“So was I framed by thee, such way“I put to use thy senses here!“It was so beautiful, so near,“Thy world,—what could I then but choose“My part there? Nor did I refuse“To look above the transient boon“Of time; but it was hard so soon“As in a short life, to give up“Such beauty: I could put the cup“Undrained of half its fulness, by;“But, to renounce it utterly,“—That was too hard! Nor did the cry“Which bade renounce it, touch my brain“Authentically deep and plain“Enough to make my lips let go.“But thou, who knowest all, dost know“Whether I was not, life’s brief while,“Endeavouring to reconcile“Those lips (too tardily, alas!)“To letting the dear remnant pass,“One day,—some drops of earthly good“Untasted! Is it for this mood,“That thou, whose earth delights so well,“Hast made its complement a hell?”
I felt begin
The Judgment-Day: to retrocede
Was too late now. “In very deed,”
(I uttered to myself) “that Day!”
The intuition burned away
All darkness from my spirit too:
There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew,
Choosing the world. The choice was made;
And naked and disguiseless stayed,
And unevadable, the fact.
My brain held ne’ertheless compact
Its senses, nor my heart declined
Its office; rather, both combined
To help me in this juncture. I
Lost not a second,—agony
Gave boldness: since my life had end
And my choice with it—best defend,
Applaud both! I resolved to say,
“So was I framed by thee, such way
“I put to use thy senses here!
“It was so beautiful, so near,
“Thy world,—what could I then but choose
“My part there? Nor did I refuse
“To look above the transient boon
“Of time; but it was hard so soon
“As in a short life, to give up
“Such beauty: I could put the cup
“Undrained of half its fulness, by;
“But, to renounce it utterly,
“—That was too hard! Nor did the cry
“Which bade renounce it, touch my brain
“Authentically deep and plain
“Enough to make my lips let go.
“But thou, who knowest all, dost know
“Whether I was not, life’s brief while,
“Endeavouring to reconcile
“Those lips (too tardily, alas!)
“To letting the dear remnant pass,
“One day,—some drops of earthly good
“Untasted! Is it for this mood,
“That thou, whose earth delights so well,
“Hast made its complement a hell?”
XVII.
XVII.
A final belch of fire like blood,Overbroke all heaven in one floodOf doom. Then fire was sky, and skyFire, and both, one brief ecstasy,Then ashes. But I heard no noise(Whatever was) because a voiceBeside me spoke thus, “Life is done,“Time ends, Eternity’s begun,“And thou art judged for evermore.”
A final belch of fire like blood,
Overbroke all heaven in one flood
Of doom. Then fire was sky, and sky
Fire, and both, one brief ecstasy,
Then ashes. But I heard no noise
(Whatever was) because a voice
Beside me spoke thus, “Life is done,
“Time ends, Eternity’s begun,
“And thou art judged for evermore.”
As in “Christmas-Eve,” the question rises of a Presence in the awful scene.
XIX.* * * * *What if, ’twixt skiesAnd prostrate earth, he should surpriseThe imaged vapour, head to foot,Surveying, motionless and mute,Its work, ere, in a whirlwind raptIt vanish up again?—So haptMy chance.Hestood there. Like the smokePillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,—I saw him. One magnific pallMantled in massive fold and fallHis head, and coiled in snaky swathesAbout his feet: night’s black, that bathesAll else, broke, grizzled with despair,Against the soul of blackness there.A gesture told the mood within—That wrapped right hand which based the chinThat intense meditation fixedOn his procedure,—pity mixedWith the fulfilment of decree.Motionless, thus, he spoke to me,Who fell before his feet, a mass,No man now.
XIX.* * * * *What if, ’twixt skiesAnd prostrate earth, he should surpriseThe imaged vapour, head to foot,Surveying, motionless and mute,Its work, ere, in a whirlwind raptIt vanish up again?—So haptMy chance.Hestood there. Like the smokePillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,—I saw him. One magnific pallMantled in massive fold and fallHis head, and coiled in snaky swathesAbout his feet: night’s black, that bathesAll else, broke, grizzled with despair,Against the soul of blackness there.A gesture told the mood within—That wrapped right hand which based the chinThat intense meditation fixedOn his procedure,—pity mixedWith the fulfilment of decree.Motionless, thus, he spoke to me,Who fell before his feet, a mass,No man now.
XIX.
XIX.
* * * * *
* * * * *
What if, ’twixt skiesAnd prostrate earth, he should surpriseThe imaged vapour, head to foot,Surveying, motionless and mute,Its work, ere, in a whirlwind raptIt vanish up again?—So haptMy chance.Hestood there. Like the smokePillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,—I saw him. One magnific pallMantled in massive fold and fallHis head, and coiled in snaky swathesAbout his feet: night’s black, that bathesAll else, broke, grizzled with despair,Against the soul of blackness there.A gesture told the mood within—That wrapped right hand which based the chinThat intense meditation fixedOn his procedure,—pity mixedWith the fulfilment of decree.Motionless, thus, he spoke to me,Who fell before his feet, a mass,No man now.
What if, ’twixt skies
And prostrate earth, he should surprise
The imaged vapour, head to foot,
Surveying, motionless and mute,
Its work, ere, in a whirlwind rapt
It vanish up again?—So hapt
My chance.Hestood there. Like the smoke
Pillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,—
I saw him. One magnific pall
Mantled in massive fold and fall
His head, and coiled in snaky swathes
About his feet: night’s black, that bathes
All else, broke, grizzled with despair,
Against the soul of blackness there.
A gesture told the mood within—
That wrapped right hand which based the chin
That intense meditation fixed
On his procedure,—pity mixed
With the fulfilment of decree.
Motionless, thus, he spoke to me,
Who fell before his feet, a mass,
No man now.
Then follows the Sentence, excluding him from the heaven of spirit, and leaving him to the world of sense, hopeless for ever of anything higher—a sentence which seemed to him at first to be rather a reward than a punishment, as he thought of “earth’s resources—vast exhaustless beauty, endless change of wonder!” Even a fern-leaf a museum in itself!
The answer of the Voice to this shallow thought leads us into the very loftiest regions of the imagination, suggesting views of the future of the redeemed which make the soul thrill with eager expectancy—
XXIV.Then the Voice, “Welcome so to rate“The arras-folds that variegate“The earth, God’s antechamber, well!“The wise, who waited there, could tell“By these, what royalties in store“Lay one step past the entrance-door.“For whom, was reckoned, not too much,“This life’s munificence? For such“As thou,—a race, whereof scarce one“Was able, in a million,“To feel that any marvel lay“In objects round his feet all day;“Scarce one in many millions more,“Willing, if able, to explore“The secreter, minuter charm!“—Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm“Of power to cope with God’s intent,—“Or scared if the south firmament“With north-fire did its wings refledge!“All partial beauty was a pledge“Of beauty in its plenitude:“But since the pledge sufficed thy mood,“Retain it! plenitude be theirs“Who looked above!”
XXIV.Then the Voice, “Welcome so to rate“The arras-folds that variegate“The earth, God’s antechamber, well!“The wise, who waited there, could tell“By these, what royalties in store“Lay one step past the entrance-door.“For whom, was reckoned, not too much,“This life’s munificence? For such“As thou,—a race, whereof scarce one“Was able, in a million,“To feel that any marvel lay“In objects round his feet all day;“Scarce one in many millions more,“Willing, if able, to explore“The secreter, minuter charm!“—Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm“Of power to cope with God’s intent,—“Or scared if the south firmament“With north-fire did its wings refledge!“All partial beauty was a pledge“Of beauty in its plenitude:“But since the pledge sufficed thy mood,“Retain it! plenitude be theirs“Who looked above!”
XXIV.
XXIV.
Then the Voice, “Welcome so to rate“The arras-folds that variegate“The earth, God’s antechamber, well!“The wise, who waited there, could tell“By these, what royalties in store“Lay one step past the entrance-door.“For whom, was reckoned, not too much,“This life’s munificence? For such“As thou,—a race, whereof scarce one“Was able, in a million,“To feel that any marvel lay“In objects round his feet all day;“Scarce one in many millions more,“Willing, if able, to explore“The secreter, minuter charm!“—Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm“Of power to cope with God’s intent,—“Or scared if the south firmament“With north-fire did its wings refledge!“All partial beauty was a pledge“Of beauty in its plenitude:“But since the pledge sufficed thy mood,“Retain it! plenitude be theirs“Who looked above!”
Then the Voice, “Welcome so to rate
“The arras-folds that variegate
“The earth, God’s antechamber, well!
“The wise, who waited there, could tell
“By these, what royalties in store
“Lay one step past the entrance-door.
“For whom, was reckoned, not too much,
“This life’s munificence? For such
“As thou,—a race, whereof scarce one
“Was able, in a million,
“To feel that any marvel lay
“In objects round his feet all day;
“Scarce one in many millions more,
“Willing, if able, to explore
“The secreter, minuter charm!
“—Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm
“Of power to cope with God’s intent,—
“Or scared if the south firmament
“With north-fire did its wings refledge!
“All partial beauty was a pledge
“Of beauty in its plenitude:
“But since the pledge sufficed thy mood,
“Retain it! plenitude be theirs
“Who looked above!”
At this answer “sharp despairs shot through” him, at the thought of what he had missed; but on reflection he finds comfort in the prospect of the possibilities of Art. Again the inexorable voice is heard, pronouncing loss unspeakable. Even if he could be a Michelangelo (Buonarroti), it would be only the initial earthly stage of his development that was possible for him. (The whole passage is magnificent; but perhaps the exquisitely wrought-out illustration of the lizard in its narrow rock-chamber will be most enjoyed.)
XXVI.* * * * *“If such his soul’s capacities,“Even while he trod the earth,—think, now,“What pomp in Buonarroti’s brow,“With its new palace-brain where dwells“Superb the soul, unvexed by cells“That crumbled with the transient clay!“What visions will his right hand’s sway“Still turn to form, as still they burst“Upon him? How will he quench thirst,“Titanically infantine,“Laid at the breast of the Divine?“Does it confound thee,—this first page“Emblazoning man’s heritage?—“Can this alone absorb thy sight,“As pages were not infinite,—“Like the omnipotence which tasks“Itself, to furnish all that asks“The soul it means to satiate?“What was the world, the starry state“Of the broad skies,—what, all displays“Of power and beauty intermixed,“Which now thy soul is chained betwixt,—“What else than needful furniture“For life’s first stage? God’s work, be sure,“No more spreads wasted, than falls scant!“He filled, did not exceed, man’s want“Of beauty in this life. But through“Life pierce,—and what has earth to do,“Its utmost beauty’s appanage,“With the requirement of next stage?“Did God pronounce earth ‘very good’?“Needs must it be, while understood“For man’s preparatory state;“Nothing to heighten nor abate:“Transfer the same completeness here,“To serve a new state’s use,—and drear“Deficiency gapes every side!“The good, tried once, were bad, retried.“See the enwrapping rocky niche,“Sufficient for the sleep, in which“The lizard breathes for ages safe:“Split the mould—and as this would chafe“The creature’s new world-widened sense,“One minute after day dispense“The thousand sounds and sights that broke“In on him at the chisel’s stroke,—“So, in God’s eye, the earth’s first stuff“Was, neither more nor less, enough“To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil.“Man reckoned it immeasurable?“So thinks the lizard of his vault!“Could God be taken in default,“Short of contrivances, by you,—“Or reached, ere ready to pursue“His progress through eternity?“That chambered rock, the lizard’s world,“Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled“To nothingness for ever; so,“Has God abolished at a blow“This world, wherein his saints were pent,—“Who, though found grateful and content,“With the provision there, as thou,“Yet knew he would not disallow“Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,—“Unsated,—not unsatable,“As paradise gives proof. Deride“Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside!”
XXVI.* * * * *“If such his soul’s capacities,“Even while he trod the earth,—think, now,“What pomp in Buonarroti’s brow,“With its new palace-brain where dwells“Superb the soul, unvexed by cells“That crumbled with the transient clay!“What visions will his right hand’s sway“Still turn to form, as still they burst“Upon him? How will he quench thirst,“Titanically infantine,“Laid at the breast of the Divine?“Does it confound thee,—this first page“Emblazoning man’s heritage?—“Can this alone absorb thy sight,“As pages were not infinite,—“Like the omnipotence which tasks“Itself, to furnish all that asks“The soul it means to satiate?“What was the world, the starry state“Of the broad skies,—what, all displays“Of power and beauty intermixed,“Which now thy soul is chained betwixt,—“What else than needful furniture“For life’s first stage? God’s work, be sure,“No more spreads wasted, than falls scant!“He filled, did not exceed, man’s want“Of beauty in this life. But through“Life pierce,—and what has earth to do,“Its utmost beauty’s appanage,“With the requirement of next stage?“Did God pronounce earth ‘very good’?“Needs must it be, while understood“For man’s preparatory state;“Nothing to heighten nor abate:“Transfer the same completeness here,“To serve a new state’s use,—and drear“Deficiency gapes every side!“The good, tried once, were bad, retried.“See the enwrapping rocky niche,“Sufficient for the sleep, in which“The lizard breathes for ages safe:“Split the mould—and as this would chafe“The creature’s new world-widened sense,“One minute after day dispense“The thousand sounds and sights that broke“In on him at the chisel’s stroke,—“So, in God’s eye, the earth’s first stuff“Was, neither more nor less, enough“To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil.“Man reckoned it immeasurable?“So thinks the lizard of his vault!“Could God be taken in default,“Short of contrivances, by you,—“Or reached, ere ready to pursue“His progress through eternity?“That chambered rock, the lizard’s world,“Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled“To nothingness for ever; so,“Has God abolished at a blow“This world, wherein his saints were pent,—“Who, though found grateful and content,“With the provision there, as thou,“Yet knew he would not disallow“Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,—“Unsated,—not unsatable,“As paradise gives proof. Deride“Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside!”
XXVI.
XXVI.
* * * * *
* * * * *
“If such his soul’s capacities,“Even while he trod the earth,—think, now,“What pomp in Buonarroti’s brow,“With its new palace-brain where dwells“Superb the soul, unvexed by cells“That crumbled with the transient clay!“What visions will his right hand’s sway“Still turn to form, as still they burst“Upon him? How will he quench thirst,“Titanically infantine,“Laid at the breast of the Divine?“Does it confound thee,—this first page“Emblazoning man’s heritage?—“Can this alone absorb thy sight,“As pages were not infinite,—“Like the omnipotence which tasks“Itself, to furnish all that asks“The soul it means to satiate?“What was the world, the starry state“Of the broad skies,—what, all displays“Of power and beauty intermixed,“Which now thy soul is chained betwixt,—“What else than needful furniture“For life’s first stage? God’s work, be sure,“No more spreads wasted, than falls scant!“He filled, did not exceed, man’s want“Of beauty in this life. But through“Life pierce,—and what has earth to do,“Its utmost beauty’s appanage,“With the requirement of next stage?“Did God pronounce earth ‘very good’?“Needs must it be, while understood“For man’s preparatory state;“Nothing to heighten nor abate:“Transfer the same completeness here,“To serve a new state’s use,—and drear“Deficiency gapes every side!“The good, tried once, were bad, retried.“See the enwrapping rocky niche,“Sufficient for the sleep, in which“The lizard breathes for ages safe:“Split the mould—and as this would chafe“The creature’s new world-widened sense,“One minute after day dispense“The thousand sounds and sights that broke“In on him at the chisel’s stroke,—“So, in God’s eye, the earth’s first stuff“Was, neither more nor less, enough“To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil.“Man reckoned it immeasurable?“So thinks the lizard of his vault!“Could God be taken in default,“Short of contrivances, by you,—“Or reached, ere ready to pursue“His progress through eternity?“That chambered rock, the lizard’s world,“Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled“To nothingness for ever; so,“Has God abolished at a blow“This world, wherein his saints were pent,—“Who, though found grateful and content,“With the provision there, as thou,“Yet knew he would not disallow“Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,—“Unsated,—not unsatable,“As paradise gives proof. Deride“Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside!”
“If such his soul’s capacities,
“Even while he trod the earth,—think, now,
“What pomp in Buonarroti’s brow,
“With its new palace-brain where dwells
“Superb the soul, unvexed by cells
“That crumbled with the transient clay!
“What visions will his right hand’s sway
“Still turn to form, as still they burst
“Upon him? How will he quench thirst,
“Titanically infantine,
“Laid at the breast of the Divine?
“Does it confound thee,—this first page
“Emblazoning man’s heritage?—
“Can this alone absorb thy sight,
“As pages were not infinite,—
“Like the omnipotence which tasks
“Itself, to furnish all that asks
“The soul it means to satiate?
“What was the world, the starry state
“Of the broad skies,—what, all displays
“Of power and beauty intermixed,
“Which now thy soul is chained betwixt,—
“What else than needful furniture
“For life’s first stage? God’s work, be sure,
“No more spreads wasted, than falls scant!
“He filled, did not exceed, man’s want
“Of beauty in this life. But through
“Life pierce,—and what has earth to do,
“Its utmost beauty’s appanage,
“With the requirement of next stage?
“Did God pronounce earth ‘very good’?
“Needs must it be, while understood
“For man’s preparatory state;
“Nothing to heighten nor abate:
“Transfer the same completeness here,
“To serve a new state’s use,—and drear
“Deficiency gapes every side!
“The good, tried once, were bad, retried.
“See the enwrapping rocky niche,
“Sufficient for the sleep, in which
“The lizard breathes for ages safe:
“Split the mould—and as this would chafe
“The creature’s new world-widened sense,
“One minute after day dispense
“The thousand sounds and sights that broke
“In on him at the chisel’s stroke,—
“So, in God’s eye, the earth’s first stuff
“Was, neither more nor less, enough
“To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil.
“Man reckoned it immeasurable?
“So thinks the lizard of his vault!
“Could God be taken in default,
“Short of contrivances, by you,—
“Or reached, ere ready to pursue
“His progress through eternity?
“That chambered rock, the lizard’s world,
“Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled
“To nothingness for ever; so,
“Has God abolished at a blow
“This world, wherein his saints were pent,—
“Who, though found grateful and content,
“With the provision there, as thou,
“Yet knew he would not disallow
“Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,—
“Unsated,—not unsatable,
“As paradise gives proof. Deride
“Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside!”
The poem proceeds in the same lofty strain, till—humbled to the dust at the thought of the unutterable folly of his choice, especially in view of the love of God expressed on Calvary, a love which he had slighted in the happy days gone by—he presents the touching plea of the 31st stanza, the result of which appears in what follows, spoken of by Professor Kirkman of Cambridge, as “the splendid consummation of Easter-Day so closely resembling the well-known crisis in Faust.”
XXXI.And I cowered deprecatingly—“Thou Love of God! Or let me die,“Or grant what shall seem heaven almost!“Let me not know that all is lost,“Though lost it be—leave me not tied“To this despair, this corpse-like bride!“Let that old life seem mine—no more—“With limitation as before,“With darkness, hunger, toil, distress:“Be all the earth a wilderness!“Only let me go on, go on,“Still hoping ever and anon“To reach one eve the Better Land!”XXXII.Then did the form expand, expand—I knew him through the dread disguiseAs the whole God within his eyesEmbraced me.XXXIII.When I lived again,The day was breaking,—the grey plainI rose from, silvered thick with dew.Was this a vision? False or true?Since then, three varied years are spent,And commonly my mind is bentTo think it was a dream—be sureA mere dream and distemperature—The last day’s watching: then the night,—The shock of that strange Northern LightSet my head swimming, bred in meA dream. And so I live, you see,Go through the world, try, prove, reject,Prefer, still struggling to effectMy warfare; happy that I canBe crossed and thwarted as a man,Not left in God’s contempt apart,With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart,Tame in earth’s paddock as her prize.Thank God, she still each method triesTo catch me, who may yet escape,She knows, the fiend in angel’s shape!Thank God, no paradise stands barredTo entry, and I find it hardTo be a Christian, as I said!Still every now and then my headRaised glad, sinks mournful—all grows drearSpite of the sunshine, while I fearAnd think, “How dreadful to be grudged“No ease henceforth, as one that’s judged,“Condemned to earth for ever, shut“From heaven!”But Easter-Day breaks! ButChrist rises! Mercy every wayIs infinite,—and who can say?
XXXI.And I cowered deprecatingly—“Thou Love of God! Or let me die,“Or grant what shall seem heaven almost!“Let me not know that all is lost,“Though lost it be—leave me not tied“To this despair, this corpse-like bride!“Let that old life seem mine—no more—“With limitation as before,“With darkness, hunger, toil, distress:“Be all the earth a wilderness!“Only let me go on, go on,“Still hoping ever and anon“To reach one eve the Better Land!”XXXII.Then did the form expand, expand—I knew him through the dread disguiseAs the whole God within his eyesEmbraced me.XXXIII.When I lived again,The day was breaking,—the grey plainI rose from, silvered thick with dew.Was this a vision? False or true?Since then, three varied years are spent,And commonly my mind is bentTo think it was a dream—be sureA mere dream and distemperature—The last day’s watching: then the night,—The shock of that strange Northern LightSet my head swimming, bred in meA dream. And so I live, you see,Go through the world, try, prove, reject,Prefer, still struggling to effectMy warfare; happy that I canBe crossed and thwarted as a man,Not left in God’s contempt apart,With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart,Tame in earth’s paddock as her prize.Thank God, she still each method triesTo catch me, who may yet escape,She knows, the fiend in angel’s shape!Thank God, no paradise stands barredTo entry, and I find it hardTo be a Christian, as I said!Still every now and then my headRaised glad, sinks mournful—all grows drearSpite of the sunshine, while I fearAnd think, “How dreadful to be grudged“No ease henceforth, as one that’s judged,“Condemned to earth for ever, shut“From heaven!”But Easter-Day breaks! ButChrist rises! Mercy every wayIs infinite,—and who can say?
XXXI.
XXXI.
And I cowered deprecatingly—“Thou Love of God! Or let me die,“Or grant what shall seem heaven almost!“Let me not know that all is lost,“Though lost it be—leave me not tied“To this despair, this corpse-like bride!“Let that old life seem mine—no more—“With limitation as before,“With darkness, hunger, toil, distress:“Be all the earth a wilderness!“Only let me go on, go on,“Still hoping ever and anon“To reach one eve the Better Land!”
And I cowered deprecatingly—
“Thou Love of God! Or let me die,
“Or grant what shall seem heaven almost!
“Let me not know that all is lost,
“Though lost it be—leave me not tied
“To this despair, this corpse-like bride!
“Let that old life seem mine—no more—
“With limitation as before,
“With darkness, hunger, toil, distress:
“Be all the earth a wilderness!
“Only let me go on, go on,
“Still hoping ever and anon
“To reach one eve the Better Land!”
XXXII.
XXXII.
Then did the form expand, expand—I knew him through the dread disguiseAs the whole God within his eyesEmbraced me.
Then did the form expand, expand—
I knew him through the dread disguise
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.
XXXIII.
XXXIII.
When I lived again,The day was breaking,—the grey plainI rose from, silvered thick with dew.Was this a vision? False or true?Since then, three varied years are spent,And commonly my mind is bentTo think it was a dream—be sureA mere dream and distemperature—The last day’s watching: then the night,—The shock of that strange Northern LightSet my head swimming, bred in meA dream. And so I live, you see,Go through the world, try, prove, reject,Prefer, still struggling to effectMy warfare; happy that I canBe crossed and thwarted as a man,Not left in God’s contempt apart,With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart,Tame in earth’s paddock as her prize.Thank God, she still each method triesTo catch me, who may yet escape,She knows, the fiend in angel’s shape!Thank God, no paradise stands barredTo entry, and I find it hardTo be a Christian, as I said!Still every now and then my headRaised glad, sinks mournful—all grows drearSpite of the sunshine, while I fearAnd think, “How dreadful to be grudged“No ease henceforth, as one that’s judged,“Condemned to earth for ever, shut“From heaven!”But Easter-Day breaks! ButChrist rises! Mercy every wayIs infinite,—and who can say?
When I lived again,
The day was breaking,—the grey plain
I rose from, silvered thick with dew.
Was this a vision? False or true?
Since then, three varied years are spent,
And commonly my mind is bent
To think it was a dream—be sure
A mere dream and distemperature—
The last day’s watching: then the night,—
The shock of that strange Northern Light
Set my head swimming, bred in me
A dream. And so I live, you see,
Go through the world, try, prove, reject,
Prefer, still struggling to effect
My warfare; happy that I can
Be crossed and thwarted as a man,
Not left in God’s contempt apart,
With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart,
Tame in earth’s paddock as her prize.
Thank God, she still each method tries
To catch me, who may yet escape,
She knows, the fiend in angel’s shape!
Thank God, no paradise stands barred
To entry, and I find it hard
To be a Christian, as I said!
Still every now and then my head
Raised glad, sinks mournful—all grows drear
Spite of the sunshine, while I fear
And think, “How dreadful to be grudged
“No ease henceforth, as one that’s judged,
“Condemned to earth for ever, shut
“From heaven!”
But Easter-Day breaks! But
Christ rises! Mercy every way
Is infinite,—and who can say?
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Transcriber’s note:
Transcriber’s note:
Transcriber’s note:
Page vi, ‘implicity’ changed to ‘implicitly,’ “explicitly or implicitly affirmed”
Page 13, apostrophe inserted before ‘Twas,’ “’Twas moonset at starting”
Page 15, single quote changed to double quote before ‘How,’ ““How they’ll greet us!”
Page 42, comma changed to full stop after ‘chivalry,’ “of chivalry. In those days”
Page 50, double quote inserted after ‘awhile,’ “since, and lost awhile.””
Page 51, single quote changed to double quote before ‘Touch,’ ““Touch him ne’er so”
Page 54, full stop inserted after ‘shone,’ “his presence shone.”
Page 61, full stop inserted after ‘sight,’ “soul was in sight.”
Page 67, double quote inserted after ‘sound,’ “new sense was sound.””
Page 77, full stop inserted after ‘end,’ “uninterruptedly to the end.”
Page 81, single quote changed to double quote before ‘Here,’ ““Here, the creature”
Page 108, quoting regularized in stanza VIII.
Page 122, single quote inserted before ‘My,’ “‘My list of coleoptera!”
Page 133, ‘omipotence’ changed to ‘omnipotence,’ “Like the omnipotence which”