 | Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge |  |
98
PILGRIMS
Poem delivered at the annual dinner of the New England Society, New York, December, 1906
I
1
Pilgrims!—The choir of their adventured daysSounds to the living, inward ear, and tho'
Their eyes are quenched, their lips are dumb with dust,
Yet, in imperishable communion,
Clear thro' the soundless retrospect of time,
Well may our spirits now to theirs respond.
For we who, in their stead, bear up the fire,
Bear on the torch of life's inherent faith
And inconsiderate will, may well discern,
Illustrious in their lives, the Pilgrim Soul
Of Man on its eternal pilgrimage. ...
Yes, for their deeds bear witness! Yes, for they,
Lit by some spark of the Promethean fire,
Publish their own recognizance,—afford
Proof of the Lord's dominion in his house,—
And by the old, the indefectible signs
Show how they earned their stern and splendid name!
O hearts of perished men, how shall we learn
Your secret, save as all your acts record
What angers vexed you and what loves fulfilled?
99
At least, that here, across the bitter sea,
They rashly ventured into peril and exile
Not for renown or power or merchandise,—
Not for the world's remembrance or reward!
Rather they went abroad with the new Gods
Of their deliverance, for in new, clear wise
Their hearts received the old, austere, divine,
Tremendous guidance of the Cloud and Flame
Which lead the spirit out of bondage, move
Thro' waste and sea to bring the Pilgrim home.
Theirs was no profitable enterprise
Of traffic or of conquering caravels;
Rather their ships were ventured as the soul
Of man goes forth on life's storm-shadowed sea,
To find that better place where dreams come true
Of God's fresh purpose in the heart, and where
Liberty prospers in the wilderness! ...
2
O let us now return in thought and loveTo these rebellious men!—that here and now
Their stern remembrance in the House of Life
May rouse at last the Lord of Life from sleep:
Lest we grow tired and tame and temperate;
Lest we grow stable, settled and secure;
Lest we no longer hear the voice, discern
The light that made them Pilgrims; lest our minds
100
The labour and liberality of love;
Lest we forget that still the Pilgrimage
Fills the long prospect of the Pilgrim Soul!
We are the Pilgrims!—Shall we less deserve,
Than they deserved, that stern and splendid name?
Or, less than they, afford the rightful Heir
His incommensurable heritage?
Rather, as now the light of truth expands
In statelier vistas to the inward eye;—
Rather, as now, with more perfected faith
And more religious ecstasy, we learn
That life and destiny and death and time
And God and all the long captivities,
Creeds and enslavements of the mind of man,
Which tamed the heart and set, on every hand,
Brief bounds to life's insatiable hope,
Are but the myths and symbols of the spirit,
Garments outworn and mansions long outgrown;—
Therefore, as truth is merciless and just
And perfect as each one of us must be,
Inexorably and with deliberate feet
Let us of these and all dead dreams and things
Tread down the dust into the common way,
That man may liberally advance!—for thus
May we with haughtier strength and hardihood
Send forth the vagrant and victorious soul
From dreams and desolate insanities
101
Into the shining night, on to the Road! ...
Well may we know it lies before us still,
Who are the Pilgrims, as it stretched for them
Whose pilgrimage is done!—the self-same road,
Hazardous, hard, unknown, which leads afar,
Thro' lusts and lies, thro' laws and governments,
Thro' settled customs and established creeds,—
Thro' all substantial things and sensible forms.
And well for us if we may find it out,
And walk thereon our spiritual way
Forward to real achievements and progressions,—
Pilgrims, as once they were, in high resolve
Launched on the Pilgrimage that once was theirs! ...
102
II
They are gone. ... They have all left us, one by one:Swiftly, with undissuadable strong tread,
Cuirassed in song, with wisdom helmeted,
They are gone before us, into the dark, alone ...
Upward their wings rush radiant to the sun;
Sea-ward the ships of their emprise are sped;
Onward their star-light of desire is shed;
Their trumpet-call is forward;—they are gone!
Let us take thought and go!—we know not why
Nor whence nor where—let us take wings and fly!
Let us take ship and sail, take heart and dare!
Let us deserve at last, as they have done,
To say of all men living and dead who share
The soul's supreme adventure,—We are gone! ...
103
III
Let us go hence!—however dark the way,Let us at all adventure hasten hence!
Too well we know what secret excellence,
Real and unrealized, brooks no more delay
Of who would make love perfect, and display
In life the spirit's true magnificence ...
Haste!—lest we lose the clear, ambitious sense
Of what is ours to gain and to gainsay.
Let us go hence, lest dreadfully we die—
Die at the core of life where love is great,
Where thought is grave, audacious and serene ...
Thither and hence all vast achievements lie,
There where the truth's transcendent virtues wait
Up the dark distance, radiant tho' unseen! ...
104
IV
O great departures from the thrift and careOf a less love, of a less truth than we
Can hardly, in the last extremity
Of all our powers, believe that we may share!—
Nobler prosperities, that wait us where
We go—if we have strength and will to be
Mariners of whatever wreck-strewn sea,
Waifs on whatever ways shall take us there!—
O great departures!—O prosperities!—
Ventures and consummations!—you are hence:
Hence from the safe denials and pieties
Which life is eased and ruined and pleasured of!—
For the strong heart conceives no bounds of love,
The soul no measure of magnificence! ...
| Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge | |