PhilosophyBk.II.vv. 1-60
Bk.II.vv. 1-60
“Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar!See! a ship drifts on a lee shore!“Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead.Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed.And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn.Thousands will not wake at next dawn!To be killed, or kill—life or death for those—I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!”Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes,They witness neighbours’ agonies.Bodily ills all; how should bodies careFor others’ ills? Each has its own to bear.Easily flow our tears when others weep;As easily we fall asleep;When Havoc stalks abroad, content we seeOther flesh in pain from which ours is free!Let flesh be flesh; we by rough ways and bleakWill climb up to the mountain peak;And entering through guarded ramparts thereFind peace from flesh in temples stately, fair;Work of wise builders, where a welcome waits,With keys to life, within the gates.That riddle many have tried, and not guessed;They wander, spirit in flesh; nowhere rest.Spirit trumpets down from tower, spire and hall;They cannot hearken to the call.Smothered in that they worship—wealth, power, birth—Dream they are growing wings, and rot on earth!Self-courted woes, suicide of the brain,Dark chos’n for light, tortures in vainEndured; this particle of life we have—A spark at best—o’erdriven to the grave!All but to pamper bodies, that, so longAs they are painless, hale, and strong,Are warranted by Nature, watch-dog kind,To press no further wants upon the Mind.This commonwealth of limbs, together broughtTo be a tenement for Thought,Asks but to be exempt from fell disease,Joy in mere breath, and feel itself at ease.When the lamps’ flame from golden statues gleams,Do the lights vie with the sun’s beams?Must music to stir hearts to leap and bound,From frescoed walls and fretted roofs resound?Or if some time hot fever racks the head,Are you, tossing on a sick bed,Easier at all that you chance to lieOn cedarn couch purple with Tyrian dye?Know you not, wastrels, that what Mind you giveTo flesh you steal from power to live?The spirit is the root of life; therebyWe live; and if we starve it, then we die.When spirit-comrades by cool brook recline,Beneath the shade of beech or pine,They reck not which the rich, and which the poor.Nor envious, nor jealous of neighbours’ store.Enough to feel the warm blood answeringThe joyousness of the sweet Spring:While the soft turf, to offer greetings due,Dresses itself in flow’rs of ev’ry hue.Sense feels the charm, and Nature all approves;While spirit talks with spirit, as it loves.Ah! know how nought to flesh itself the wholeYou sell life for; how hateful to the soul!
“Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar!See! a ship drifts on a lee shore!“Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead.Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed.And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn.Thousands will not wake at next dawn!To be killed, or kill—life or death for those—I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!”Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes,They witness neighbours’ agonies.Bodily ills all; how should bodies careFor others’ ills? Each has its own to bear.Easily flow our tears when others weep;As easily we fall asleep;When Havoc stalks abroad, content we seeOther flesh in pain from which ours is free!Let flesh be flesh; we by rough ways and bleakWill climb up to the mountain peak;And entering through guarded ramparts thereFind peace from flesh in temples stately, fair;Work of wise builders, where a welcome waits,With keys to life, within the gates.That riddle many have tried, and not guessed;They wander, spirit in flesh; nowhere rest.Spirit trumpets down from tower, spire and hall;They cannot hearken to the call.Smothered in that they worship—wealth, power, birth—Dream they are growing wings, and rot on earth!Self-courted woes, suicide of the brain,Dark chos’n for light, tortures in vainEndured; this particle of life we have—A spark at best—o’erdriven to the grave!All but to pamper bodies, that, so longAs they are painless, hale, and strong,Are warranted by Nature, watch-dog kind,To press no further wants upon the Mind.This commonwealth of limbs, together broughtTo be a tenement for Thought,Asks but to be exempt from fell disease,Joy in mere breath, and feel itself at ease.When the lamps’ flame from golden statues gleams,Do the lights vie with the sun’s beams?Must music to stir hearts to leap and bound,From frescoed walls and fretted roofs resound?Or if some time hot fever racks the head,Are you, tossing on a sick bed,Easier at all that you chance to lieOn cedarn couch purple with Tyrian dye?Know you not, wastrels, that what Mind you giveTo flesh you steal from power to live?The spirit is the root of life; therebyWe live; and if we starve it, then we die.When spirit-comrades by cool brook recline,Beneath the shade of beech or pine,They reck not which the rich, and which the poor.Nor envious, nor jealous of neighbours’ store.Enough to feel the warm blood answeringThe joyousness of the sweet Spring:While the soft turf, to offer greetings due,Dresses itself in flow’rs of ev’ry hue.Sense feels the charm, and Nature all approves;While spirit talks with spirit, as it loves.Ah! know how nought to flesh itself the wholeYou sell life for; how hateful to the soul!
“Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar!See! a ship drifts on a lee shore!“Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead.Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed.
“Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar!
See! a ship drifts on a lee shore!
“Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead.
Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed.
And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn.Thousands will not wake at next dawn!To be killed, or kill—life or death for those—I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!”
And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn.
Thousands will not wake at next dawn!
To be killed, or kill—life or death for those—
I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!”
Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes,They witness neighbours’ agonies.Bodily ills all; how should bodies careFor others’ ills? Each has its own to bear.
Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes,
They witness neighbours’ agonies.
Bodily ills all; how should bodies care
For others’ ills? Each has its own to bear.
Easily flow our tears when others weep;As easily we fall asleep;When Havoc stalks abroad, content we seeOther flesh in pain from which ours is free!
Easily flow our tears when others weep;
As easily we fall asleep;
When Havoc stalks abroad, content we see
Other flesh in pain from which ours is free!
Let flesh be flesh; we by rough ways and bleakWill climb up to the mountain peak;And entering through guarded ramparts thereFind peace from flesh in temples stately, fair;
Let flesh be flesh; we by rough ways and bleak
Will climb up to the mountain peak;
And entering through guarded ramparts there
Find peace from flesh in temples stately, fair;
Work of wise builders, where a welcome waits,With keys to life, within the gates.That riddle many have tried, and not guessed;They wander, spirit in flesh; nowhere rest.
Work of wise builders, where a welcome waits,
With keys to life, within the gates.
That riddle many have tried, and not guessed;
They wander, spirit in flesh; nowhere rest.
Spirit trumpets down from tower, spire and hall;They cannot hearken to the call.Smothered in that they worship—wealth, power, birth—Dream they are growing wings, and rot on earth!
Spirit trumpets down from tower, spire and hall;
They cannot hearken to the call.
Smothered in that they worship—wealth, power, birth—
Dream they are growing wings, and rot on earth!
Self-courted woes, suicide of the brain,Dark chos’n for light, tortures in vainEndured; this particle of life we have—A spark at best—o’erdriven to the grave!
Self-courted woes, suicide of the brain,
Dark chos’n for light, tortures in vain
Endured; this particle of life we have—
A spark at best—o’erdriven to the grave!
All but to pamper bodies, that, so longAs they are painless, hale, and strong,Are warranted by Nature, watch-dog kind,To press no further wants upon the Mind.
All but to pamper bodies, that, so long
As they are painless, hale, and strong,
Are warranted by Nature, watch-dog kind,
To press no further wants upon the Mind.
This commonwealth of limbs, together broughtTo be a tenement for Thought,Asks but to be exempt from fell disease,Joy in mere breath, and feel itself at ease.
This commonwealth of limbs, together brought
To be a tenement for Thought,
Asks but to be exempt from fell disease,
Joy in mere breath, and feel itself at ease.
When the lamps’ flame from golden statues gleams,Do the lights vie with the sun’s beams?Must music to stir hearts to leap and bound,From frescoed walls and fretted roofs resound?
When the lamps’ flame from golden statues gleams,
Do the lights vie with the sun’s beams?
Must music to stir hearts to leap and bound,
From frescoed walls and fretted roofs resound?
Or if some time hot fever racks the head,Are you, tossing on a sick bed,Easier at all that you chance to lieOn cedarn couch purple with Tyrian dye?
Or if some time hot fever racks the head,
Are you, tossing on a sick bed,
Easier at all that you chance to lie
On cedarn couch purple with Tyrian dye?
Know you not, wastrels, that what Mind you giveTo flesh you steal from power to live?The spirit is the root of life; therebyWe live; and if we starve it, then we die.
Know you not, wastrels, that what Mind you give
To flesh you steal from power to live?
The spirit is the root of life; thereby
We live; and if we starve it, then we die.
When spirit-comrades by cool brook recline,Beneath the shade of beech or pine,They reck not which the rich, and which the poor.Nor envious, nor jealous of neighbours’ store.
When spirit-comrades by cool brook recline,
Beneath the shade of beech or pine,
They reck not which the rich, and which the poor.
Nor envious, nor jealous of neighbours’ store.
Enough to feel the warm blood answeringThe joyousness of the sweet Spring:While the soft turf, to offer greetings due,Dresses itself in flow’rs of ev’ry hue.
Enough to feel the warm blood answering
The joyousness of the sweet Spring:
While the soft turf, to offer greetings due,
Dresses itself in flow’rs of ev’ry hue.
Sense feels the charm, and Nature all approves;While spirit talks with spirit, as it loves.Ah! know how nought to flesh itself the wholeYou sell life for; how hateful to the soul!
Sense feels the charm, and Nature all approves;
While spirit talks with spirit, as it loves.
Ah! know how nought to flesh itself the whole
You sell life for; how hateful to the soul!