INVULNERABLE
BY WILLIAM ROSE BENÉT
THE armorers met me at the marge of life,The weapon-bearers, calling each his ware,Praising sword or spear or sinuous knifeFashioned for the strifeIn the forest depths that lay before,To ward off malice or to pierce despair;Shields that could affrightAll the hissing snakes in Envy’s hair;Or, when Peril’s sudden arrow sped,Crying how bucklers, stern of proof and bright,Glanced the shaft, the rancor overbore;Or iron helms, securely vizarded,Turned the thrusts of mockery and spite.Loudly “Arm you! Arm you!” rose their cry;And I chose a shield, Indifference,And a blade, Sharp Wit, for my defense.Close-meshed mail beneath my gaberdineGlittered all unseen.Proud I strode and whirled my sword on high.Then my friend went by,Passing in his shining joy unarmed,With not even an amulet that charmed;Singing for the innocence confessedIn his sparkling eyes, his buoyant breast;Swiftly, gaily thrusting through the treesTo his deep and darkling forest doom,As I thought. But still before me goes,Blithe and wonderful, his candid smileEvery ambushed shadow to illume,And the quickening sympathy that glowsSudden on his cheek when friends seem foes,And his utter radiance without guile,Merry ignorance where I am—wise?Where they lurk and snarl and close with me,All unscathed of foemen passeth he,Seeing no strife, unarmed eternally,And e’en the Terrors turn away their eyes!
THE armorers met me at the marge of life,The weapon-bearers, calling each his ware,Praising sword or spear or sinuous knifeFashioned for the strifeIn the forest depths that lay before,To ward off malice or to pierce despair;Shields that could affrightAll the hissing snakes in Envy’s hair;Or, when Peril’s sudden arrow sped,Crying how bucklers, stern of proof and bright,Glanced the shaft, the rancor overbore;Or iron helms, securely vizarded,Turned the thrusts of mockery and spite.Loudly “Arm you! Arm you!” rose their cry;And I chose a shield, Indifference,And a blade, Sharp Wit, for my defense.Close-meshed mail beneath my gaberdineGlittered all unseen.Proud I strode and whirled my sword on high.Then my friend went by,Passing in his shining joy unarmed,With not even an amulet that charmed;Singing for the innocence confessedIn his sparkling eyes, his buoyant breast;Swiftly, gaily thrusting through the treesTo his deep and darkling forest doom,As I thought. But still before me goes,Blithe and wonderful, his candid smileEvery ambushed shadow to illume,And the quickening sympathy that glowsSudden on his cheek when friends seem foes,And his utter radiance without guile,Merry ignorance where I am—wise?Where they lurk and snarl and close with me,All unscathed of foemen passeth he,Seeing no strife, unarmed eternally,And e’en the Terrors turn away their eyes!
THE armorers met me at the marge of life,The weapon-bearers, calling each his ware,Praising sword or spear or sinuous knifeFashioned for the strifeIn the forest depths that lay before,To ward off malice or to pierce despair;Shields that could affrightAll the hissing snakes in Envy’s hair;Or, when Peril’s sudden arrow sped,Crying how bucklers, stern of proof and bright,Glanced the shaft, the rancor overbore;Or iron helms, securely vizarded,Turned the thrusts of mockery and spite.Loudly “Arm you! Arm you!” rose their cry;And I chose a shield, Indifference,And a blade, Sharp Wit, for my defense.Close-meshed mail beneath my gaberdineGlittered all unseen.Proud I strode and whirled my sword on high.Then my friend went by,Passing in his shining joy unarmed,With not even an amulet that charmed;Singing for the innocence confessedIn his sparkling eyes, his buoyant breast;Swiftly, gaily thrusting through the treesTo his deep and darkling forest doom,As I thought. But still before me goes,Blithe and wonderful, his candid smileEvery ambushed shadow to illume,And the quickening sympathy that glowsSudden on his cheek when friends seem foes,And his utter radiance without guile,Merry ignorance where I am—wise?
THE armorers met me at the marge of life,
The weapon-bearers, calling each his ware,
Praising sword or spear or sinuous knife
Fashioned for the strife
In the forest depths that lay before,
To ward off malice or to pierce despair;
Shields that could affright
All the hissing snakes in Envy’s hair;
Or, when Peril’s sudden arrow sped,
Crying how bucklers, stern of proof and bright,
Glanced the shaft, the rancor overbore;
Or iron helms, securely vizarded,
Turned the thrusts of mockery and spite.
Loudly “Arm you! Arm you!” rose their cry;
And I chose a shield, Indifference,
And a blade, Sharp Wit, for my defense.
Close-meshed mail beneath my gaberdine
Glittered all unseen.
Proud I strode and whirled my sword on high.
Then my friend went by,
Passing in his shining joy unarmed,
With not even an amulet that charmed;
Singing for the innocence confessed
In his sparkling eyes, his buoyant breast;
Swiftly, gaily thrusting through the trees
To his deep and darkling forest doom,
As I thought. But still before me goes,
Blithe and wonderful, his candid smile
Every ambushed shadow to illume,
And the quickening sympathy that glows
Sudden on his cheek when friends seem foes,
And his utter radiance without guile,
Merry ignorance where I am—wise?
Where they lurk and snarl and close with me,All unscathed of foemen passeth he,Seeing no strife, unarmed eternally,And e’en the Terrors turn away their eyes!
Where they lurk and snarl and close with me,
All unscathed of foemen passeth he,
Seeing no strife, unarmed eternally,
And e’en the Terrors turn away their eyes!