 | Christ's Company and Other Poems |  |
46
The Holy Mother at the Cross.
Of Mary's pains may now learn whoso will,
When she stood underneath the groaning tree
Round which the true Vine clung: three hours the mill
Of hours rolled round; she saw in visions three
The shadows walking underneath the sun,
And these seemed all so very faint to be,
That she could scarcely tell how each begun,
And went its way, minuting each degree
That it existed on the dial stone:
For drop by drop of wine unfalteringly,
Not stroke by stroke in blood, the three hours gone
She seemed to see.
When she stood underneath the groaning tree
Round which the true Vine clung: three hours the mill
Of hours rolled round; she saw in visions three
The shadows walking underneath the sun,
And these seemed all so very faint to be,
That she could scarcely tell how each begun,
And went its way, minuting each degree
That it existed on the dial stone:
For drop by drop of wine unfalteringly,
Not stroke by stroke in blood, the three hours gone
She seemed to see.
Three hours she stood beneath the cross; it seemed
To be a wondrous dial stone, for while
Upon the two long arms the sunbeams teemed,
So was the head-piece like a centre stile;
Like to the dial where the judges sat
Upon the grades, and the king crowned the pile,
In Zion town, that most miraculous plat
On which the shadow backward did defile;
And now towards the third hour the sun enorme
Dressed up all shadow to a bickering smile
I' the heat, and in its midst the form of form
Lay like an isle.
To be a wondrous dial stone, for while
Upon the two long arms the sunbeams teemed,
So was the head-piece like a centre stile;
Like to the dial where the judges sat
Upon the grades, and the king crowned the pile,
In Zion town, that most miraculous plat
On which the shadow backward did defile;
47
Dressed up all shadow to a bickering smile
I' the heat, and in its midst the form of form
Lay like an isle.
Because that time so heavily beat and slow
That fancy in each beat was come and gone;
Because that light went singing to and fro,
A blissful song in every beam that shone;
Because that on the flesh a little tongue
Instantly played, and spake in lurid tone;
Because that saintly shapes with harp and gong
Told the three hours, whose telling made them one;
Half hid, involved in alternating beams,
Half mute, they held the plectrum to the zone,
Therefore, as God her senses shield, it seems
A dial stone.
That fancy in each beat was come and gone;
Because that light went singing to and fro,
A blissful song in every beam that shone;
Because that on the flesh a little tongue
Instantly played, and spake in lurid tone;
Because that saintly shapes with harp and gong
Told the three hours, whose telling made them one;
Half hid, involved in alternating beams,
Half mute, they held the plectrum to the zone,
Therefore, as God her senses shield, it seems
A dial stone.
Three hours she stood beside the cross; it seemed
A splendid flower; for red dews on the edge
Stood dropping; petals doubly four she deemed
Shot out like steel knives from the central wedge,
Which quadranted their perfect circle so
As if four anthers should a vast flower hedge
Into four parts, and in its bosom, lo,
The form lay, as the seed-heart holding pledge
Of future flowers; yea, in the midst was borne
The head low drooped upon the swollen ledge
Of the torn breast; there was the ring of thorn;
This flower was fledge.
A splendid flower; for red dews on the edge
Stood dropping; petals doubly four she deemed
Shot out like steel knives from the central wedge,
Which quadranted their perfect circle so
As if four anthers should a vast flower hedge
Into four parts, and in its bosom, lo,
The form lay, as the seed-heart holding pledge
Of future flowers; yea, in the midst was borne
The head low drooped upon the swollen ledge
Of the torn breast; there was the ring of thorn;
This flower was fledge.
48
Because her woe stood all about her now,
No longer like a stream as ran the hour;
Because her cleft heart parted into two,
No more a mill-wheel spinning to time's power;
Because all motion seemed to be suspense;
Because one ray did other rays devour;
Because the sum of things rose o'er her sense,
She standing 'neath its domè as in a bower;
Because from one thing all things seemed to spume,
As from one mouth the fountain's hollow shower;
Therefore it seemed His and her own heart's bloom,
A splendid flower.
No longer like a stream as ran the hour;
Because her cleft heart parted into two,
No more a mill-wheel spinning to time's power;
Because all motion seemed to be suspense;
Because one ray did other rays devour;
Because the sum of things rose o'er her sense,
She standing 'neath its domè as in a bower;
Because from one thing all things seemed to spume,
As from one mouth the fountain's hollow shower;
Therefore it seemed His and her own heart's bloom,
A splendid flower.
Now it was finished; shrivelled were the leaves
Of that pain-flower, and wasted all its bloom,
She felt what she had felt then; as receives,
When heaven is capable, the cloudy stroom
The edge of the white garment of the moon;
So felt she that she had received that doom;
And as an outer circle spins in tune,
Born of the inner on the sky's wide room,
Thinner and wider, that doom's memories,
Broken and thin and wild, began to come
As soon as this: St. John unwrapt his eyes,
And led her home.
Of that pain-flower, and wasted all its bloom,
She felt what she had felt then; as receives,
When heaven is capable, the cloudy stroom
The edge of the white garment of the moon;
So felt she that she had received that doom;
And as an outer circle spins in tune,
Born of the inner on the sky's wide room,
Thinner and wider, that doom's memories,
Broken and thin and wild, began to come
As soon as this: St. John unwrapt his eyes,
And led her home.
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