Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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REHOBOTH. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
REHOBOTH.
In the world of toil I laboured as rolled periods by,
Not like others drummed and tabored to the victory;
But with grief for ever wearing, crushed by burdens, as if bearing
All eternity.
Foes with longer arms and stronger wills were surging round in wrath,
And they thrust me farther off not without contempt and scoff
From the purpose of my path.
Insolence and purple pride swept above me in the tide
Of a cruel art,
As on pavement stone;
And unheeded and unneeded I appeared apart,
Outside pity and a place where each had a resting-space,
Useless and alone.
Unto Bel they bowed the knee, or to naked Ashtaroth;
But a whisper spoke to me—“Rehoboth.”
Not like others drummed and tabored to the victory;
But with grief for ever wearing, crushed by burdens, as if bearing
All eternity.
275
And they thrust me farther off not without contempt and scoff
From the purpose of my path.
Insolence and purple pride swept above me in the tide
Of a cruel art,
As on pavement stone;
And unheeded and unneeded I appeared apart,
Outside pity and a place where each had a resting-space,
Useless and alone.
Unto Bel they bowed the knee, or to naked Ashtaroth;
But a whisper spoke to me—“Rehoboth.”
In the many realms of Nature, lo, I wandered far;
Seeking for some legislature which upraised no bar
To my lordship, where no other quarrelled with me, if my brother
Swayed a lofty star.
Weeds had holy tasks and lowly insects office set and sure,
And a niche of honour each beyond vulgar wreck or reach
Ordered and at last secure.
But I was a wasted thing, bloomless flower and throneless king
Separate from the rest,
And to nothing born
Out of season with no reason for a singing breast;
Never meant to blossom true into scarlet robes or blue,
Just a barren thorn.
I escaped the service seal, laid on even the midge or moth;
But I heard a trumpet peal—“Rehoboth.”
Seeking for some legislature which upraised no bar
To my lordship, where no other quarrelled with me, if my brother
Swayed a lofty star.
Weeds had holy tasks and lowly insects office set and sure,
And a niche of honour each beyond vulgar wreck or reach
Ordered and at last secure.
But I was a wasted thing, bloomless flower and throneless king
Separate from the rest,
And to nothing born
Out of season with no reason for a singing breast;
Never meant to blossom true into scarlet robes or blue,
Just a barren thorn.
I escaped the service seal, laid on even the midge or moth;
But I heard a trumpet peal—“Rehoboth.”
Thinkers rose with broad opinions covering all Time,
And tall Poets had dominions over every clime;
While most ripe and reverend sages, with the murmur of their pages,
Made a solemn chime.
I was singing too and ringing bells that could not do a wrong,
In my humble quiet nook as I read the Sacred Book,
For the pensive evensong.
But they drowned my tiny note when I darkly sung, and wrote
Now a tender line,
Then a pretty thought;
And their louder strains and prouder echoed through the shrine,
While my sad and sober tune like a rose too late for June
Looked but idly wrought.
Death seemed better, had I tied round my frame the burial cloth;
But a call in mercy cried—“Rehoboth.”
And tall Poets had dominions over every clime;
While most ripe and reverend sages, with the murmur of their pages,
Made a solemn chime.
276
In my humble quiet nook as I read the Sacred Book,
For the pensive evensong.
But they drowned my tiny note when I darkly sung, and wrote
Now a tender line,
Then a pretty thought;
And their louder strains and prouder echoed through the shrine,
While my sad and sober tune like a rose too late for June
Looked but idly wrought.
Death seemed better, had I tied round my frame the burial cloth;
But a call in mercy cried—“Rehoboth.”
Crowded were the courts, and gilded nobles went and came
Up the steps of marble builded to the Blessed Name;
Souls of light and souls of learning, with the insufferable yearning
Kindled to a flame,
For that knowledge which no college of the largest lore can give;
Ah, they held the wiser plan and the wisdom true, that man
Not by bread alone may live.
Faces crowned with mystic might, awfully intent and bright,
Moved on missions vast
Under that blue dome,
Armed with grateful love and fateful powers from their high past,
And about the shine and shades of the temple colonnades
Sped, within their Home.
With one servant of His choice, could the master break His troth?
And afar a thunder Voice—“Rehoboth.”
Up the steps of marble builded to the Blessed Name;
Souls of light and souls of learning, with the insufferable yearning
Kindled to a flame,
For that knowledge which no college of the largest lore can give;
Ah, they held the wiser plan and the wisdom true, that man
Not by bread alone may live.
Faces crowned with mystic might, awfully intent and bright,
Moved on missions vast
Under that blue dome,
Armed with grateful love and fateful powers from their high past,
And about the shine and shades of the temple colonnades
Sped, within their Home.
With one servant of His choice, could the master break His troth?
And afar a thunder Voice—“Rehoboth.”
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |